January at Hogwarts, after the Christmas snows, was a long stretch of cold, drizzling days.
It didn't affect Loren much—he still kept to his routine of morning exercise, classes, research, and sleep. For the Gryffindor Quidditch team, though, it was a kind of hell. To face the coming "unfair" match, Wood pushed everyone harder than ever. The daily training wrung Harry out, but the thought that Snape would referee the next match kept him grinding his teeth and carrying on.
Ever since attending classes as Harrie (non-canon temporary form of Harry), Professor Snape had stopped giving her a hard time; now he was targeting her again, which set Harrie on edge. Maybe Snape could see into people's hearts, maybe he knew she'd realized he was after the Philosopher's Stone—so he was finding new ways to press her. The idea flashed through Harry's head, and he quietly discussed it with Ron and Neville.
When Ron learned what the Stone could do, he spoke up at once.
Harry, remembering Loren's evasive answers before, added, "I think Loren's suspicious too. I asked him about Nicolas Flamel, and he dodged. If Neville hadn't spoken up, I'd have let him brush me off. And Loren's performance in Potions isn't normal. Hermione said Snape gave Loren his personal notebook at Christmas. Looks like they're on the same side. With Loren's brains, he must've noticed everything. Don't forget—he was with us when we found the three-headed dog. He probably wants to cover for Snape. That's why he steered me away when I asked."
Harry grew more excited as he spoke. Neville and Ron exchanged looks. They trusted Loren's character, but some of his actions were hard to explain. Seeing their silence, Harry thought they accepted his view and settled on keeping his distance from Loren—at least until the Philosopher's Stone business was over.
Harry's chill didn't bother Loren—if anything, he leaned into it. Otherwise Harry would come begging for gear or help, and Loren would have to say no.
Hermione noticed Harry's odd behavior too, but once Loren explained the cause, she let it go. She had no interest in the coming "adventure." Right now, her favorite thing was exploring the forest with Shiraori.
When Loren reached the station at the start of term, he had already slipped Shiraori out to head for the Forbidden Forest on her own. Convincing her took almost no effort; in truth, it wasn't persuasion at all. The root cause was that Loren had granted Shiraori access to the small world—free entry and exit. That's a high-level permission; compared to Hermione's, it only lacked admin rights, and it was far above the three "test subjects."
Those three only had one trip per day, and, barring special circumstances, only an hour inside each time. They could store what they brought in, but that was it. Their purpose, per Peter's arrangements, was to source alchemical materials for the small world—and to pick up things Loren wanted from the black market.
Shiraori had it much better. Loren only asked her to go into the Forbidden Forest and lure in rare creatures. Once she had a foothold there, she could fully resume her small-world life—staying home when she liked, heading into the Forest to explore when bored. She had been created from an Acromantula; even though Loren had implanted a sliver of his own memories, an Acromantula's bloodthirst ran deep, sleeping in Shiraori's core.
After Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall asked Loren to stay behind. Loren knew it was time to deal with something. This time he didn't bring Hermione; he sent her to the library. At her puzzled look, he whispered, "Professor McGonagall found out about our cat business. I'll handle it." He couldn't very well admit he'd given the professor catnip on a whim; that excuse would have to do.
McGonagall's office looked the same as before. Loren immediately noticed the jar of catnip he'd gifted her sitting on the desk, mostly hidden beneath a stack of books. From the space inside the jar, it was clear she'd used quite a bit.
"I've got your handle now, Professor," Loren thought. "With this, you'll be my backing. I'll walk this castle sideways. You wouldn't want anyone to know you like catnip in your Animagus form, would you?" He stopped himself. "Hold on—I already walk this castle sideways. Why did I give you catnip again? Was I brain-dead that day? Forget it."
McGonagall had been watching him since he entered and saw the expressions flicker across his face. She didn't guess he'd thought so much; she took it for simple guilt about the catnip. Some things are best left unspoken. She shifted the topic without a ripple: "Loren, your gift is quite good, but you should really give it to Professor Snape or Professor Sprout."
"Is the effect not good?" Loren asked. "I tested it on Crookshanks myself. He can't live without it now."
McGonagall rolled her eyes. So it had been a planned "cat" job after all. The matter had passed; no need to reopen it. "What you gave me is the juice of an ordinary non-magical plant. Handling it like white moss, I can refine it into a white powder. And I've found that powder has a strong pull on any furred creature—mice, rabbits, dogs, and more."
She paused to watch Loren's reaction. He showed none; he'd already discovered uses for the white powder.
Seeing that, she continued, "I wonder—if we give the plant to Professor Sprout, mix it in among magical flora, will it mutate and acquire magic? Then have Professor Snape study it in detail…"
Loren's expression changed at the last line. He'd always avoided pushing catnip extracts in bad directions. Some things were touchy by principle. Hearing her plan, he wanted to slap himself—why had he given her catnip? Still, the priority was to steer her away.
"I've known for a while that this so-called catnip has a peculiar effect on cats. I've extracted the white powder too. I never put it on people—that would take ages to mutate into a magical plant, and mutation is unpredictable; it might lose its special effect. My original plan was to test the magical extract on werewolves."
"Once a person becomes a werewolf, they gain lupine traits. If catnip extract affects wolves, it should have some effect on werewolves too. Even a little is enough—I can use potioncraft to amplify it as far as possible and create something that still works on a werewolf in transformed state."
McGonagall nodded, satisfied. The student had a real head for research. Since he had a direction, she'd let him pursue it.
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