After Loren finished dealing with the alarm ward, he turned and found Hermione practically itching to take a crack at the heavy vault doors deeper in.
Clearly, the goblins' little security setup hadn't satisfied her. Now she wanted to challenge the vault defenses themselves.
Loren had to step up and give the back of her head a light tap, snapping her out of the daydream.
"Loren, what was that for?" Hermione grumbled.
She looked ready to argue about the first half of what he said, but when she heard the rest, her whole face brightened. "We can really come back a few more times?"
"Of course. As long as the passageway we used stays undiscovered, we can come whenever we've got time." He pointed back the way they had come.
In his view, the goblins might never discover that tunnel. He always scrubbed their tracks clean after each trip. The goblins had chosen to build their vaults underground for geography's sake; they'd never expect anyone to literally dig up from the earth and punch into a vault.
On the way out, Hermione led and Loren followed. Loren erased every trace the two of them had left and restored the passage to its original state as they went.
Soon they rode a land cruiser back up to the surface. This time, Loren sealed the entire route.
He didn't underestimate the goblins: once they realized their vault's dragon had gone missing again, they'd launch a massive sweep. Best to leave no tails.
Fresh off the high of a successful caper, Hermione tugged Loren into a taxi for the ride home, chattering the whole way about how they might crack the vault doors next time. Naturally, they had a soundproofing charm up—otherwise the driver might have driven straight to the police station.
The next morning at nine, with all preparations made, Loren brought Hermione through the Floo Network to the Burrow to visit the Weasleys.
Green fire flared in the fireplace, and Loren and Hermione stepped out into the Burrow.
Hermione was stunned by the sight. She had never seen a house like this; the place practically dazzled her with layers upon layers of flickering magical auras.
She'd been excited ever since she learned they were visiting the Weasleys—Loren had told her the Weasleys' home was a wonder, that you could see traces of magic in every nook and cranny. She'd believed him, and the first thing she did on arrival was activate the magic-vision on her alchemical goggles.
Noticing her discomfort, Loren stepped over and turned off the goggles' magic-vision for her. Only then did her sight return to normal.
Mr. Arthur Weasley came forward to greet them. "Welcome to the Burrow!"
He shook Loren's hand enthusiastically and started to tow him out of the house at once.
Hermione was about to ask what was going on when Molly Weasley said from the side, "Let them go. Ever since Arthur got your letter about visiting, he's been so happy he barely slept a wink. He's been nattering on about showing Loren his collection."
"Come along, Hermione, never mind those two men. I hear from George and Fred that you're quite taken with our little house. Ginny! Ginny! We have guests—don't hide in that side room. Show our visitor around."
Hermione hadn't expected that a casual comment to the twins was remembered so clearly—enough that they'd gone and told their mother.
Quick footsteps pattered on the stairs, and the youngest Weasley, Ginny, came down. She blushed a little at the sight of Hermione by Molly's side. Hermione, of course, knew how to talk to a shy girl. After just a few lines of easy conversation, Ginny was calling her "Sister Hermione," and happily took her by the hand to give a tour.
Seeing them get on so well, Mrs. Weasley relaxed, set off with tea and cakes, and went to find Arthur and Loren.
Let's turn to Loren's side.
Right now he was sitting as straight as a board in Arthur Weasley's private storeroom, which was crammed with Arthur's collection of Muggle items. Across from him, Mr. Weasley was proudly showing off his finest treasure—an old hunting shotgun.
Arthur kept waving the shotgun as he talked, waxing lyrical about this marvelous Muggle "wand."
To be honest, even though a firearm couldn't hurt Loren, having the barrel pointed at him was not pleasant.
This went on until Mrs. Weasley arrived.
She pushed open the storeroom door and saw Arthur brandishing his toy at Loren in demonstration. She remembered that just a few days ago, when Arthur had first gotten it, he'd "demonstrated" it for her and wounded a few gnomes on the spot. And now he'd brought out something so dangerous again—some people never learn.
"Arthur, what do you think you're doing?" she roared from the doorway.
Startled, Arthur's hands jerked and the shotgun nearly fell. Loren caught it smoothly.
With the shotgun in hand, he recognized at a glance that it was a World War I–era antique. As he spoke, he deftly checked the mechanism and found it had been fired not long ago—powder residue still clung inside the barrel.
"How did you know—" Arthur began, then fell silent as he watched Loren handle the gun with practiced ease.
"Let's put the gun aside and talk business first," Loren said, noticing Molly stepping in. He casually set the shotgun aside.
Arthur understood that Loren was covering for him. He hurried to haul over two seats recycled from a car, then fished a table out of some corner; after giving it a magical cleaning, he set it between the chairs as a makeshift tea table.
Molly seemed moderately satisfied. She set the tea and cakes down and began to pour.
At this moment, Arthur looked like a very well-behaved schoolboy, sitting primly in his seat.
Mrs. Weasley handed a cup to Loren and said, "We're very glad you're here," then shot Arthur a hard glare. It puzzled Loren, but he answered politely, "George and Fred are lively sorts. Being friends with them is actually comfortable—it's what friends do, helping each other."
"You've helped them too much. The storeroom's about to burst." Molly set a cup down rather firmly in front of Arthur. The sharp clink made Loren worry the cup might crack.
Arthur gave a sheepish smile, lifted the hot tea without hesitation, and took a sip. "Delicious as always, Molly."
"Arthur, mind yourself. Loren is our guest. Don't you go showing off those dangerous collectibles of yours. What if you hurt him?" Molly cut off his attempt to change the subject and shot Loren an apologetic look.
Loren wasn't great at reading looks—he filed it as "an apologetic glance," more or less.
"That's a Muggle-made magical wand," Arthur muttered under his breath.
"George and Fred turned all the money at home into this pile of strange junk—and some of it is dangerous! Last time you only hurt a few gnomes. What if it had been one of the children?" Molly's voice rose.
Listening from the side, Loren felt a bit unwell. So that look before probably wasn't apology—it was a threat. He sank back into the seat a little and quietly pushed his aura-concealment to full, lowering his presence to nearly nothing.
"All right, Molly, that was an accident. I promise it won't happen again," Arthur said, looking around in confusion. He could have sworn someone had been sitting right in front of him—yet in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
"Fine. For Hermione's sake, we'll let this drop. But you be careful from now on—don't you dare bring out anything so dangerous again. Otherwise you and this heap of rubbish—out." With that, Molly picked up the tray and turned to go.
"Molly, make something nice for lunch—Hermione doesn't come by every day," Arthur called after her.
Molly waved a hand in acknowledgement.
"I thought Hermione came with Loren…" Arthur murmured, frowning a little.
Once she'd gone, Loren canceled the concealment. Only then did Arthur notice him again, sitting across the table.
Loren hadn't expected the ability to keep strengthening with his overall power—he could practically erase his presence now.
Seeing Loren suddenly "reappear," Arthur blinked, then broke into a childlike grin. "Loren, how did you do that?"
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