Ron had gone home with the Weasleys during lunch.
Loren felt the matter had reached a point where it was best left to Dumbledore. Since reporting the Animagus secret, he hadn't involved himself further.
Harry stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth and asked, "Loren, did you find out—"
"Bang!"
Suddenly, an explosion sounded nearby. Seamus's face was covered in soot, his hair standing on end in a comically frazzled mess.
"Hahaha!" Dean Thomas laughed heartily beside him, showing his teeth. Though usually reserved, Dean always laughed the hardest at Seamus's mishaps.
Dean, a Gryffindor like Seamus and a close friend, had seen this happen many times. Whenever Seamus tried an unfamiliar spell, something blew up—not dangerously, but enough to leave his face blackened.
Loren's curiosity piqued. He approached Seamus, holding a chicken leg and grinning excitedly. "What spell were you trying?"
Dean answered, "He tried to turn water into wine, but it blew up again."
Loren turned serious. "Boy, you're lucky. I have a unique martial art to teach you. Saving the world and upholding justice will be your task."
Seamus wiped his face with a tissue, rolling his eyes. "If you want, I can give you this 'talent' in exchange."
"Hehehe," Loren said, charmed. "I know a super cool spell that fits your style perfectly."
Dean's interest peaked. "Can I try it too?"
After quickly filling their stomachs, the trio linked arms and headed toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry watched them go, a little speechless. He hadn't finished asking his questions yet.
Across the hall, Draco Malfoy sneered at Harry. "Look, the famous Harry Potter left all alone."
Harry was fed up with Draco's arrogance. Since the train ride, Draco had been arrogant and dismissive, especially toward Ron. Their feud was well established, and Draco relished every opportunity to mock Harry.
But luckily, Gryffindor and Slytherin only shared Potions class, so Harry ignored Draco's taunts and quickly returned to the common room.
At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Loren, Seamus, and Dean stopped.
Seamus looked at the dark woods and asked, "Why here? Professors don't allow us into the Forbidden Forest."
Loren smiled. "Because here, you can make all the noise you want."
He picked up some branches and fashioned a simple door frame. Seamus and Dean looked confused.
"Portaberto!" Loren said, waving his wand.
This time, he didn't use all his strength, and the incantation was clear and correct—not a mispronounced mess. A narrow band of red light shot from his wand and struck the wooden frame.
"Boom!"
The branch flew apart, leaving a charred black mark on the ground.
Seamus and Dean exchanged amazed looks and shouted, "Cool!"
Dean asked, "What kind of magic is this? Is it inherited from your family?"
Seamus nodded, pretending to be modest. "This really fits my style. I want to learn from you."
Dean quickly chimed in, "Me too! Me too!"
Loren smirked at their eagerness. "If you'd studied the book Standard Spells beforehand, you'd know this is just an outdated door-opening spell."
Ignoring the first half of his sentence, the two happily exclaimed, "It really opens the door!"
Seamus swore on Sir Nicholas's head he'd master the spell and use it well.
No eleven-year-old resists fireworks, especially when Loren promised an RPG-style lesson. He urged them, "Build some more doors to practice."
Together, they arranged nearly twenty simple doors made of wood, branches, and stones in a circle. Loren demonstrated key details—the precise pronunciation, wand movements, and tone.
Soon the forest's edge echoed repeatedly: "Portaberto!" "Portaberto!" "Portaberto!"
Seamus soon managed to blow apart the black wooden doors, while Dean produced only a faint glow.
"I got it! I got it!" Seamus cheered, flying with joy. He had never learned a spell so quickly.
Loren wondered whether it was real skill or just Seamus's natural talent that made it work.
Dean kept chanting "Portaberto! Portaberto!" He looked at Seamus enviously, grudgingly admiring the talent he'd teased before.
The two cast spells tirelessly. Seamus grew proficient; Dean could shake the doors slightly.
Loren began teaching Seamus the corrected, harder-to-pronounce version of the spell, syllable by syllable. Progress was slower, but Seamus was eager and memorized everything clearly.
The key was to visualize the target as a door to pass through.
Seamus tried the new incantation. The first attempts lagged, producing no explosions.
Though a little disappointed, seeing Dean still managing easy "door open" spells cheered him up.
Then Seamus blasted regular, clean holes in the wooden doors—expanding from the center outward, instead of messy black scorch marks.
Loren confirmed Seamus was truly casting the spell, not just relying on talent.
With Dean's background commentary, Loren and Seamus began blasting at the surrounding trees.
Seamus's blasts only charred the bark; Loren didn't need full power to pierce through.
To put it simply: when holding a sharp weapon, the desire to strike arises naturally. For kids with sticks, everything within reach quickly falls.
Their spells sounded like fireworks—"Swish~ Bang! Swish~ Bang!"
Dean felt left out but comforted himself while chanting "Portaberto…" under his breath, "I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous."
They had been playing for who knew how long when the sound of barking dogs broke through the noise.
Hagrid emerged from the woods, Fang trotting behind. The ground and tree trunks were blackened.
Hagrid's face was soot-streaked, but thankfully no animals were hurt.
"Which house are you from?" Hagrid asked gruffly.
Loren called out, "Gryffindor!"
Hagrid recognized him as Harry's friend and nodded, noting the Gryffindor badges on their robes.
"Only Gryffindors get into this kind of trouble," he said, grinning. "Tsk, what's with that inexplicable pride?"
Hagrid grabbed Seamus and Dean by their robes, lifting them effortlessly.
"Come on, you two. I've got something for you to do."