Among the professors, Professor McGonagall received the highest score. Opinions of Professor Snape were polarized: some called him meticulous and decisive, while others said he was verbally abusive and prejudiced.
Professor Quirrell scored the lowest. Everyone commented that he always smelled of garlic and spoke as though eight horses were fighting inside his mouth.
As for the courses, opinions were divided. Some said the lessons were easy and suggested allowing them to borrow books for higher years, while others said the lessons were difficult and wanted empty classrooms where they could form mutual-help groups.
Fortunately, neither group was too self-centered. Both considered the other group and neither asked the teachers to change the pace of their lessons. Most of their requests could at least be attempted.
Issues concerning daily life were the most numerous, and the most trivial.
They were children, after all, and had written down every inconvenience in their daily lives, such as cutting a hand on a particular portrait's frame or having a bed in their dormitory that creaked. Lorne was glad they were willing to include these little things in the questionnaire.
In the questionnaires, roughly two-thirds of the students said their free time was somewhat boring, and three-quarters hoped the school would organize an event.
After all, they were all children and liked things a little livelier.
During a break between lessons the next day, Lorne brought the questionnaires and the parchment containing the compiled results to the Headmaster's Office.
"Professor Dumbledore, you should look at this," Lorne said, handing him the parchment. "These are the issues raised by the first-year students."
Dumbledore sat in his chair and silently read through everything.
"You truly are an outstanding teacher, Lorne. I deeply regret missing out on you back then. Otherwise, there ought to be a place for you among this school's professors."
Lorne merely smiled. And then have me teach as a professor while handling all these miscellaneous duties, right?
"However, I don't believe it's a good thing for the school to solve everything for its students." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Having them look up information themselves and use spells to solve these problems-isn't that excellent practical experience with magic?"
Lorne sighed helplessly and pushed the parchment a little farther forward. "Professor, they're only first-years. Are you going to leave these problems unresolved until they've learned the appropriate spells?"
Dumbledore chuckled, the sound seeming to reverberate from deep within his chest, carrying unmistakable pleasure.
He picked up a Sherbet Lemon wrapped in colorful paper, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "Then do you have any methods for 'forcing their growth'?" he asked indistinctly.
"An event, Professor." Lorne leaned against the back of his chair, his hands folded over his knees. "It was mentioned in the questionnaires too. An event to strengthen unity at Hogwarts."
"I'm sure you've already noticed that bullying and hostility are very serious problems at Hogwarts. The purpose of dividing everyone into four houses isn't to make them stand against one another as hostile rivals. So I've decided to hold an event to help the new students break the ice, make friends, and learn which spells can secure their bed boards while they're at it."
Dumbledore picked up a quill, swiftly signed his name on another blank sheet of parchment, then stamped it with the Hogwarts seal.
"Very well. Approved, Lorne."
"There's something else, Professor. I'd like to have a talk with Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape. I don't intend to interfere with their teaching methods-that's their area of expertise. I simply want to check whether they know what the students are saying, or whether they're having any difficulties."
Dumbledore grew thoughtful.
"I don't think that will go very smoothly, Lorne. Severus is like a cauldron of potion about to boil straight through its bottom. Ask him to spare even a little more patience, and I suspect he'll explode."
"As for Quirinus..." Dumbledore studied Lorne before finally relenting. "I suggest you don't ask him anything about his turban. There may be an unregistered magical creature hidden underneath."
Lorne knew Dumbledore was considering his allegiance and safety.
Perhaps his pitifully small amount of magic had dispelled Dumbledore's suspicion that he was Voldemort's helper, but that same weakness also made Dumbledore worry about whether Voldemort might control him too.
Presumably, no one wanted to see the director of the General Affairs Office also wearing a turban and reeking of garlic.
"One last thing. Do you know Chocolate Frogs contain cards of you? I mean, did the Chocolate Frog company get your authorization?"
"There's no need for any authorization. I'm quite happy to be beside sweets. I wouldn't trade that even for the Order of Merlin, First Class."
"I understand, Professor." Lorne picked up the paper Dumbledore had signed and stood.
"Off you go, Lorne." Dumbledore waved a hand and picked up a thick book again.
Lorne turned toward the door. As his hand rested on the handle, Dumbledore's unhurried voice came from behind him again:
"And Lorne-make sure you rest. Thinking takes a great deal of mental energy, especially when you're trying to help all sorts of young witches and wizards. I see the dark circles under your eyes are worse than Severus's."
The door closed softly behind him. Lorne looked down at the stamped parchment in his hand, and the corners of his mouth rose despite himself.
He stepped off the spiral staircase, and the stone statue closed behind him again.
On his way back to the office, several first-years were huddled together, excitedly discussing how Seamus had tried to turn water into wine at the dining table, only for it to explode again.
Hogwarts never overprotected its students. The young witches and wizards could explore the mysteries of magic to their hearts' content.
As director of the General Affairs Office, Lorne was perfectly justified in collecting students' problems, but he had no intention of becoming a nanny or repairman who personally handled every trivial matter.
He was more like a receptionist, collecting problems, compiling them, and reporting them to the appropriate people.
But some parts were undeniably his responsibility. Even without the Power of Emotion, organizing a large event was a very enjoyable thing to do.
As for this time, he had long since decided what event to hold.
Find your second house.