An adult's comprehension and practical skills were far beyond those of first-year little wizards, and the professors were all competent teachers besides. Lorne kept up with his classes with ease.
He spent more of his time poring over books.
He had set aside the Magic Mobile Phone Instructions for now. Everything in the later sections covered how to create software using magic and storage components, including a whole series of subsequent processes such as updating, copying, and downloading. Without storage components to practice on, he could not learn it through theory alone, and even if he did, he would have nowhere to put it to use.
The Detailed Explanation of Basic Magical Theory, a book from the future, covered practically every question concerning magic. Lorne could sense how unusual it was.
For instance, existing books offered no clear summary of how to increase one's total magical power, and Professor McGonagall's explanation about the combined effects of innate and acquired factors was rather vague.
This book, however, laid out every way to increase one's total magical power in precise detail, including but not limited to natural growth with age, concentration and meditation training, frequency of magic use, emotional stimuli, and so on.
Fortunately, the half-step Ron realm the system had given him did not lock his total magical power at that level. He could still increase it through other means.
After these past few days of practice, he should have reached a pseudo-Hermione realm by now.
The book also served as a guide, covering practically every question about magic. For subjects that were profound or substantial enough to warrant a separate book, it thoughtfully included notes saying, "For the answer, see this page of this edition of this book."
In short, although the book was not a particularly powerful golden finger, the knowledge within was enough to keep him from falling behind any first-year little wizard.
Lorne shamelessly compared himself with the new students in every respect.
A week of study soon passed.
During that week, Harry and Ron were the only people who came to Lorne for help with their problems.
Lorne observed the routes of the staircases connecting the Gryffindor dormitories to the hall and noted them down. Although the staircases changed without any pattern, there were still clues to where exactly they led.
He made two copies of this information and gave one each to Harry and Ron.
The two were overjoyed and never arrived late again.
Ron loved coming to Lorne for help. "Every time I call you 'Director Lorne,' it feels like another me is helping myself."
"I don't mean that you're me. I mean, I mean..." Ron was not good with words. He stammered for a long while before finally giving up. "You know what I'm trying to say, Director."
The two also generated a great deal of power of emotion for Lorne.
[Quest: Collect power of emotion from people of your kind] [Progress: 30/100]
Lorne's power of emotion had now reached thirty points.
Dealing with new students really was good. The children's emotions were written all over their faces, allowing Lorne to confirm his guess: power of emotion came from every kind of emotion. Surprise, delight, sadness, regret, anger-it accepted them all, and each produced the same amount.
On this precious weekend, Lorne finally managed to free himself from his schoolwork. With no need to attend classes with the new students, he was about to devote himself to studying his own matters.
He had only just spread the heavy book open on his desk when a familiar knock sounded at the door.
It was Hagrid.
His enormous frame almost completely filled the doorway, and he was carrying a round-bellied bottle wrapped in coarse cloth.
"Long time no see, Lorne!" Hagrid laughed heartily, making the quill on the desk tremble slightly. "Fancy a glass of gigglewine? I picked this up from a mysterious merchant. Supposed to be good stuff from New York. They say you can't stop laughing after you drink it."
"Thanks, Hagrid, but I don't drink."
Lorne declined with a smile. He did not like drinking, and he was also afraid that, if he got drunk, he would become as loose-lipped as Hagrid and reveal some secret he should not.
"Then... was there something else, Hagrid?" Lorne stepped aside and invited the towering gamekeeper into the room.
Hagrid scratched his messy hair and thick beard, looking a little awkward. "Actually... I wanted you to help me pick out a present."
Lorne was a little surprised. "A present? For whom?"
"For Harry," Hagrid lowered his voice, but his tone was full of undisguised pride and joy. "You might not have heard yet, but Harry's been picked as Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team! A first-year! Hogwarts hasn't had a Seeker this young in a whole hundred years! That boy's a genius. He's just like his father James was on the pitch!"
At this, Hagrid's eyes reddened slightly. He went to take out his large handkerchief to wipe his tears, only to discover he had not brought it.
"I wanted to give him something to celebrate, but I really don't know what young people like these days. They all say they can't bite through the rock cakes I like. I don't want the present to be too bulky, or... too eye-catching. After all, he gets enough attention already."
Lorne was a little surprised. "Harry's become a Seeker?"
Lorne did not attend outdoor lessons such as Flying Class, so he had not known that Harry had become a Seeker.
"There's no need, Hagrid," Lorne advised sincerely. "I think what Harry needs is to be treated like everyone else. He's been weighed down by the title of the Chosen One for too long. You could invite him and his friends over to your hut to catch up, and congratulate him in person."
Hagrid nodded, his huge beard shaking like a pine tree. "That makes sense. You'll come along too, won't you, Lorne?"
Lorne chuckled. It seemed the wizarding world also had compulsory after-work socializing.
When Harry arrived at the door of Hagrid's Hut with Ron and Hermione, Hagrid's giggling drifted out from inside.
The three exchanged glances. In the end, Harry stepped forward and knocked.
"Come right in-"
But the voice from inside was not Hagrid's.
Harry pushed the door open.
"Director Lorne," Harry exclaimed in delighted surprise. "What are you doing here? I mean, isn't this Hagrid's hut?"
"If I hadn't come, you'd all be going hungry tonight. Unless you've got iron teeth and bronze jaws that can bite through Hagrid's rock cakes."
All three looked into the hut. The broad wooden table was covered with ingredients, and an iron rack had been set up over the fireplace, where skewers of meat sizzled with dripping fat.
Ron was the first to react. "You're barbecuing indoors? In a wooden hut?"
Hagrid giggled, called the trio over to the other side of the table, and gave each of them a large flatbread.
He took one himself, rolled some already-cooked meat skewers inside it, pulled out the fruitwood sticks, and took a huge bite. "Now this really hits the spot-hee-hee-there's never been a way of eating like this before. Lorne's seasoning is something else, too. He could easily open a shop next to the Leaky Cauldron. If they moved the entrance to Diagon Alley to Lorne's place then, I'd be the first to vote for it."
Holding his flatbread, Harry still introduced his friends first. "This is Ron, and this is Hermione."
Having spent ten years in the muggle world, Lorne was confident in his cooking. In fact, if he had had somewhere to cook, he would have treated himself to something he craved long ago.
It was not that Hogwarts's food tasted bad. The house-elves were very good cooks, too. They simply seemed too concerned with catering to everyone's tastes, and all the dishes were traditional British fare: always just chicken, corn, sandwiches, and chips.
He, on the other hand, liked plenty of salt and oil, and could not do without spice.
And so he had tossed his reading aside and gone with Hagrid to the nearest town to buy other kinds of meat and seasonings.
The local barbecue emphasized smoking and slow cooking, giving it a distinctive flavor. Lorne had eaten it quite a few times over the past ten years, but if anything could satisfy his cravings, it had to be cumin and chili.
He brought over several more skewers of tenderloin and set them on the table. "Don't wait for me. Eat while it's hot."
Ron had already copied Hagrid and wrapped his grilled meat in the flatbread. He clenched his teeth and tugged with his head, looking as though he were fighting Draco.
At last, he tore off a mouthful, grease coating his mouth. "This bread really puts up a fight."
"That's after Lorne steamed it again, too. I thought it was a bit too soft."
With that, Hagrid bit off a mouthful without the slightest effort.
Harry watched Lorne barbecuing beside the fireplace. He had eaten barbecue at the Dursley family's house too, but back then, he had often been the one standing at the grill. Occasionally, Vernon would complain that his cooking was terrible, and he could only stand to one side and learn, or sit downwind with the smoke making his eyes water.
Back then, he had never gotten to eat fragrant, nicely charred meat like this. There had only ever been cold scraps of meat and vegetables that Dudley did not like.