Seeing Professor McGonagall's uncertain expression, Loren spoke first. "I drew the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, and after that the house-elves became even more respectful toward me."
Professor McGonagall had been waiting here to give Loren a talk, hoping to keep him from going astray and ending up like Voldemort. Loren's talent was terrifying; if he truly grew into a Voldemort-level figure, the harm to the wizarding world would far surpass Voldemort's. She also harbored a sliver of doubt about Professor Dumbledore's tutelage—after all, Voldemort had risen right under Dumbledore's nose.
But Loren's single sentence blocked everything she'd planned to say. The Sword of Gryffindor was modeled after King Arthur's blade in the stone; the sword in the stone acknowledged only a true king, and the Sword of Gryffindor could be drawn only by one whom Gryffindor himself would recognize. Since Loren had pulled the sword, it meant he was acknowledged by Gryffindor, possessed a character akin to Gryffindor's, and would most likely become a wizard who dared to face things head-on.
After a long hesitation, Professor McGonagall finally forced out a single line.
Hearing her, Loren set down his teacup and smiled. "I've only just started first year. Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about what happens after I graduate?"
In Loren's heart, his goal was the stars and the sea and countless other worlds; a little planet like Earth could never confine him.
On hearing this, Professor McGonagall hurriedly picked up her teacup to hide her embarrassment. She had indeed gotten ahead of herself and forgotten Loren had been in first year for less than two months. "It's already late."
When the awkward air had thinned a little, Professor McGonagall ended the chat with that dry sentence. Loren rose, bowed to her, and left the common room, heading for the dormitory. McGonagall remained seated, the flickering firelight playing over her face—her heart far from calm.
Back in the dorm, Loren found the others still awake, noisily discussing where he'd gone; he could hear the chatter through the door. He pushed it open, and the moment he stepped inside all conversation ceased, everyone staring at him. Ron finally spoke up for the others, asking the question on all their minds. "Loren, what did you do? Why are you back so late?"
Meeting their probing eyes, Loren answered while getting ready to wash up. "Took care of the troll in the castle, then went to the Headmaster's office for tea."
Dealing with a troll and having tea in the Headmaster's office—either one was something a Gryffindor cub would brag about. After a bit, Loren finished washing and prepared to climb into bed. Seeing the boys lost in fantasies, he casually tossed out another bombshell. "Oh, Neville, I already know where the Sword of Gryffindor is. You can try to take it."
His words yanked the boys back to reality, especially Neville, whose voice went dry and trembly as he asked. The other three pricked up their ears, waiting for Loren's reply.
"It's in the Sorting Hat. Just reach in and pull it out. I tested it myself."
After answering, Loren activated the sound-proofing charm he'd placed on his bed curtains and fell straight asleep. The others were left helpless—eager for more details but unwilling to wake him. And the bombshell about the Sword of Gryffindor's appearance also killed any desire to keep chatting; each boy lay down with his own swirling thoughts.
The next day was Halloween, but every student got up early. Friends clustered in small groups, discussing yesterday's events. News that Gryffindor's Loren Angus had handled the troll spread quickly among the student body. At first, few believed a first-year could manage it. Though Loren Angus had quite a name in Gryffindor and was called Gryffindor's Lion King, fame didn't always mean strength. But things soon changed: students heading to the Great Hall for breakfast found that the house-point hourglasses outside showed Gryffindor had been awarded fifty points.
From those same students came another piece of news: Loren had drawn the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat. That, even more than the troll, seized everyone's attention. The sword was one of the four founders' relics; though its name had always been known in the wizarding world, unlike the other three relics, this was the first time in a millennium it had appeared. Truth be told, if the other founders' relics hadn't remained visible through the ages, many would have suspected the Sword of Gryffindor was only a legend.
At last the news was confirmed by Professor McGonagall herself, and Neville—who trained with Loren in the mornings—supplied the detailed information he'd pried from Loren. So when Loren entered the Great Hall for breakfast, it felt like stepping onto an award stage: all of Gryffindor—and a portion of Hufflepuff—were calling his name.
As for Ravenclaw, they watched sensibly from the sidelines; it wasn't their diadem being found, so it didn't concern them much. Among Slytherins, some looked at Loren with respect—they acknowledged his strength. Others looked on with indifference, not recognizing his bloodline.
Loren waved to the cheers, then didn't engage further. He pulled Hermione to their usual spot and started breakfast. With Loren seated, the cheering gradually died. The Gryffindors were tactful enough not to disturb their meal, and the few overeager cubs and badgers who tried to rush over with questions were held back by older students. Even so, almost every gaze in the Great Hall fell upon Loren and Hermione. A few little witches pointed at Hermione and whispered. Though Loren didn't mind, Hermione was mortified; if he hadn't been holding her with one arm, she might have slipped under the table.
Seeing her like this, Loren hurried through breakfast and took Hermione out. The library was out of the question; if they went, half the school would follow and Madam Pince would throw them out. The only option was to head back to the common room. As they left in that direction, a large portion of Gryffindor trailed after them—students fascinated by the Sword of Gryffindor and eager to learn more. Others stayed to finish breakfast—especially their dorm-mates. Sharing a dorm with Loren, they figured they were best placed to benefit.
No sooner had Loren settled Hermione onto a sofa than a crowd of cubs flooded the common room. They swarmed around him, peppering him with questions about the Sword of Gryffindor until the scene turned chaotic. Loren had to raise his wand and pop a few fireworks to calm them down. He swept a glance around. "Pick a representative to ask questions. Too many voices and I can't hear a thing."
They looked at one another, and George and Fred were pushed forward. Familiar with Loren and well-liked in Gryffindor, they were natural choices. Loren nodded. "Ask what you want. I still have things to do in a bit."
"Loren, can you tell us how you discovered the Sword of Gryffindor?"
He wasn't surprised. As Gryffindors, their first concern was, of course, the sword. "At the Sorting, something inside the Hat smacked my head. Yesterday, when I saw the Hat in the Headmaster's office, I stuck my head in to see what had hit me—turned out it was the Sword of Gryffindor, so I pulled it out."
He kept it short and signaled the twins to ask their next question—he'd soon be taking Hermione to hide somewhere quiet.
"Where is the Sword of Gryffindor now?" George asked the question on everyone's mind.
"I stuffed it back into the Sorting Hat before I left the Headmaster's office." As he answered, Loren pulled a large roll of parchment from his robe. With a flick of his wand, copies of the parchment flew to everyone present. "I've marked the Headmaster's office on this new map. As for the password, all I know is that Headmaster Dumbledore likes to use sweets as passwords. That's all I can tell you."
With that, Loren took Hermione and left. The cubs stared at the maps in their hands, already daydreaming. Who knew how many would try to sneak to the Headmaster's office to look for the Sword of Gryffindor? Likely not a few—never underestimate a Gryffindor's sense of 'honor'.
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