The hands of the library's clock reached nine o'clock.
Harry was the first to depart, apologetically gathering his scattered notes and quills. "Sorry to leave you both, but Wood will have my head if I'm late for Quidditch practice again. He's been obsessed with training ever since we lost to Slytherin last month."
Ron followed shortly after, his eyes was already half-lidded with drowsiness despite the early hour. "Can't... keep... reading..." he mumbled, suppressing yet another massive yawn. "Words are starting to swim on the page. I'll just... go rest my eyes in the common room for a bit."
His habit of falling asleep whenever confronted with books was well known among their group. Hermione shot him a disapproving look but said nothing as he shuffled away.
Only Hermione remained at their shared table. Her quill scratched steadily across parchment taking meticulous notes. Occasionally she would pause to rub her reddened eyes with the heels of her palms, blinking rapidly to clear her blurring vision before diving back into another dense passage.
Morris observed her growing discomfort.
"Need some eye drops?" he asked casually, reaching into his robe pocket. His fingers emerged clutching a small crystal vial filled with an eerily glowing green liquid. "I discovered a formula for eye fatigue relief potion in one of the older books. The ingredients were simple enough, so I tried brewing a batch using leftover materials from Potions class."
"Thank you," Hermione said accepting the vial.
"Though I should mention," Morris added honestly, "I haven't actually tested it on myself yet. But theoretically speaking, it should work quite well."
Hermione's expression became subtle. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed the small bottle back toward Morris, as if it might explode at any moment.
"I think I'll pass,"
She didn't quite trust Morris's careless approach to "theory" when it came to experimental potions. This guy seemed brilliant but profoundly unreliable when it came to safety protocols and common sense.
"What a pity," Morris said with a shrug. Without the slightest hesitation or apparent concern, he uncorked the vial and tilted his head back. Holding his eyelids open with one hand, he carefully put two drops into each eye.
A powerful cooling sensation immediately spread through his eyeballs.
He blinked several times experimentally.
"The effect is quite remarkable, actually," Morris commented, turning his gaze toward the dense text before him. The previously swimming letters now stood out quite clear. "I can see much more clearly now when reading. And the color—"
"Morris!" Hermione interrupted urgently. Her voice had tone of panic. "Your eyes! They've turned completely green! Bright green! And they're... they're glowing!"
It was true. Morris's normally silvery-gray irises had transformed into pools of glowing emerald, casting an eerie green glow across his face. He looked like some creature from the deepest parts of the Forbidden Forest, something that hunted at night and could see in the dark.
Morris calmly closed the heavy textbook in his hands.
"Don't worry yourself, Hermione," he said in a calm tone, as if his eyes turning into magical flashlights was a completely normal occurrence. "Some side effects are entirely normal with modified potions. It's still well within my acceptable parameters. I accounted for a margin of error in my calculations."
After all, he had deliberately adjusted several components of the original formula so it was quite reasonable, even expected, that the effects might deviate somewhat from the orthodox recipe.
Hermione found herself completely at a loss for words.
Morris himself should be the one worrying right now! How could he be so calm?
She was certain the potion had gone wrong. His eyes weren't just glowing steadily; they were flashing on and off rapidly like a malfunctioning green lantern, someone frantically working a light switch.
Blink-blink-blink, dark, blink-blink, dark.
The pattern was almost hypnotic and unsettling.
"You must go to the hospital wing immediately and let Madam Pomfrey examine you," Hermione insisted with rising alarm, already gathering her belongings with quick, decisive movements.
Her hands shook slightly as she stuffed parchment into her bag. "This isn't normal, Morris. Something's clearly wrong. I can accompany you there right now—we'll tell her it was an accident, that you didn't know—"
"It's fine, truly. The effect is nearly finished running its course," Morris interrupted with an airy wave of his hand.
Sure enough, even as he spoke those reassuring words, the intense green glow began to fade like a dying ember. The light dimmed gradually until finally, his eyes returned to their usual silvery-gray color.
"See?" Morris smiled with satisfaction. "Everything's perfectly fine. No permanent damage, no adverse effects. Just as I predicted, more or less."
Hermione released a long, shuddering sigh of relief and slowly lowered herself back into her chair. Her heart was still racing from the fright.
Using an unknown, untested potion—one with known modifications to the formula, no less directly on one's own eyes... that was, in her opinion, nothing short of self-harm.
She genuinely couldn't understand his reasoning. The risk-to-reward ratio was absurd.
Wasn't he afraid of going blind? Of magical poisoning? Of causing irreversible damage to delicate eye tissue? Did he have no sense of self-preservation at all?
In reality, if Morris had possessed even the slightest ability to read Hermione's thoughts at that moment, he would certainly have felt compelled to correct her misunderstanding.
He wasn't being reckless and gambling with his health on a whim. Although the original formula had been significantly modified, every single adjustment had been made according to solid theoretical foundations grounded in established potion-making principles.
Those dozens of advanced potion-crafting books he'd devoured weren't read in vain—he'd absorbed and synthesized their lessons, applying the knowledge practically.
The substitutions were chemically sound. The brewing process had been executed with precision.
In short, the potion was definitely safe—safe enough that he wouldn't have offered it to Hermione if there were genuine danger.
Morris and Hermione remained in the library until the lunch bell echoed through the halls at noon.
During those productive hours, they engaged in an unexpectedly frank exchange of information about their respective magical progress. They mainly discussed spells each had mastered.
Truthfully, Morris found himself genuinely impressed by Hermione's achievements. In less than half a term at Hogwarts, she had already learned and could competently perform almost every spell contained in their first-year textbooks.
More impressively still, she'd begun tackling advanced spells far beyond the current curriculum like Engorgement Charm and Shrinking Charm.
Those were third-year spells! Magic that wouldn't be taught officially for another two full years!
Her dedication and natural talent were undeniable. Indeed, any student at Hogwarts shouldn't be casually underestimated, he reminded himself. Even the seemingly ordinary could harbor extraordinary abilities.
He absolutely couldn't afford to become arrogant or complacent about his own progress. He had to continue working even harder, pushing himself further, if he wanted to stay ahead.
At the same time, Hermione was experiencing her own profound astonishment, though she kept it carefully hidden behind her composed face.
She studied so seriously every single day, dedicating almost every waking moment outside of classes to learning. She put in her utmost effort, spending almost all her spare time on magical practice and theoretical study. She even secretly practiced upper-year spells in unused classrooms when no one was watching.
Yet somehow, the total number of spells she had mastered was actually fewer than Morris's?
How was that even possible?
Morris... could he perhaps be one of those legendary once-in-a-generation magical prodigies the history books mentioned?
The thought stirred something competitive and fierce within her chest. If he could do it, so could she. She just needed to work harder, study longer, practice more intensely.
Thus, without either quite realizing what was happening, Hogwarts' two greatest academic competitors had secretly begun their long rivalry.
After consuming a satisfying lunch of roasted chicken, buttered potatoes, and fresh bread in the Great Hall, Morris returned to his private dormitory.
He had no particular plans for the remaining daylight hours.
He didn't especially want to visit the Gate Between Two Realms right now, tempting though it was. Not only because he had already thoroughly explored every accessible area within his current range of activity in that strange world between life and death, but also because his supply of Draught of Living Death was nearly depleted.
Though, he still had plenty of Snape's ashes left in reserve.
After settling onto his bed and in a meditation session for approximately thirty minutes, Morris made a decision.
He would pay his Potions professor a long-overdue visit and finally ask Snape those accumulated questions about advanced potion theory that had been piling up in his notebook.
Before setting out on this mission, he habitually checked the Mage's Book as had become his regular routine.
To his delighted surprise, new content had appeared on the previously blank pages.
"Undead Creature Advancement Ritual."
The title alone made Morris's pulse quicken with excitement, his fatigue from meditation was instantly forgotten.
He immediately cast everything else aside and focused his complete attention on studying the newly revealed content with intense concentration.
Just as the intriguing title suggested, this was indeed a systematic, detailed ritual process rather than a simple spell.
It appeared to be an advanced, evolved version of the basic undead creature transformation magic circle he'd already mastered and used successfully three times now.
The basic structure looked quite similar to the pattern he'd memorized, with those same curves and intricate runic inscriptions. But this version was larger, more complex with additional layers.
However, it had one absolutely crucial requirement clearly stated at the bottom of the instructions: a massive, sustained supply of concentrated magical power or ambient energy far exceeding what a single wizard could normally provide.
Reading this specification, Morris felt a surge of triumphant excitement. He immediately thought of the collection of Gate Energy Crystals he had painstakingly created using the Energy Condensation spell during his various explorations in that misty realm between worlds.
He'd made them almost absently, out of boredom during his long walks through that endless pale desert, condensing the ambient death-energy into solid crystals. Now they might finally have a practical purpose!
He absolutely had to start experimenting with this new ritual immediately!
The possibilities were endless. What could his undead creatures become if properly advanced? What new abilities might they develop?
However, confronting his enthusiasm was an immediate practical obstacle: space constraints.
According to the precise specifications detailed in the Mage's Book, accompanied by helpful scale illustrations, successfully completing the undead creature advancement ritual required drawing a magic circle approximately fifteen meters in diameter which was roughly half the size of a regulation basketball court.
His dormitory couldn't possibly accommodate something of those size. The circle would extend through walls into neighboring rooms.
Morris sat on his bed, thinking carefully through his options, mentally cataloging possible locations around the castle and grounds.
After several minutes of consideration. He remembered... there was a clearing on the outskirts near the Forbidden Forest's boundary, wasn't there? He'd noticed it during one of his walks with Hagrid.
Roughly half an hour later, after gathering his supplies and making the trek across the grounds, Morris arrived at his destination slightly out of breath from the walk and the weight of his loaded backpack.
The clearing was located just behind a gentle grassy slope on the very outskirts of the Forbidden Forest at the edge where grounds gave way to wild woods. The area was remarkably flat and open, a natural amphitheater of sorts, yet sufficiently secluded that casual observers would never notice it.
Ancient trees formed a natural screen on three sides, their branches were creating a canopy that let the afternoon sunlight into patterns. The ground was covered in short grass and moss.
Under normal circumstances, Morris reasoned, no one would come to this particular spot specifically for any activities. It was too far from the castle for casual strolls, too close to the Forbidden Forest for comfort, too isolated for social gatherings and therefore perfect for his purposes.
Moreover strictly speaking from a technical standpoint, this location wasn't actually within the Forbidden Forest's official boundaries as marked on castle maps. The forest proper began another twenty meters further in, where the trees grew dense and dark.
Therefore, using this space didn't violate the explicit school rule prohibiting unauthorized entry into the Forbidden Forest. He was technically being completely compliant with regulations.
Of course, Morris's selection of this boundary location wasn't motivated by any particular desire to follow school rules or avoid official punishment.
Honestly, he didn't care much about rule violations in general.
Rather, he was primarily concerned about various random dangerous beasts potentially wandering over to disturb him during the delicate ritual process. There were more isolated, secluded places deeper within the Forbidden Forest that would work perfectly for setting up magic circles, places where an encounter with another person would be basically impossible.
But those deeper locations came with risks he wasn't willing to accept right now. He worried about dangerous creatures like adult Acromantulas or worse coming to investigate the magical disturbance. More importantly, he worried about encounters with certain aggressive humanoid creatures.
Like those infuriating beings with human upper bodies and horsey lower bodies.
Oh, those bloody centaurs!
Even now, weeks later, thinking back to that hostile confrontation still made Morris feel genuinely displeased...
Don't let his sweet-looking, baby face fool you readers. He held grudges remarkably well, nurturing them like tended plants. And that particular grudge was still quite fresh.
"Alright then, let's get to work," Morris announced to the empty clearing.
He shrugged off his heavy backpack, setting it down on a flat rock.
The bag was filled entirely with Gate Energy Crystals. Since he genuinely didn't know exactly how much magical fuel would be required for the advancement ritual, he had simply decided to bring his entire accumulated stock rather than risk running short midway through.
Better to have too much than too little when dealing with unknown magical processes.
Around one hour later, with the afternoon sun hanging lower in the western sky, the intricate magic circle was finally complete.
Morris straightened from his crouched position with a satisfied groan, his back was protesting after the long period of detailed work. He'd been bent over for so long that his spine cracked as he stretched, working out the stiffness in his muscles.
Although the pattern and underlying structure didn't differ drastically from the basic undead creature transformation magic circle he'd used before, the sheer visual impact of this massively scaled-up version was genuinely outstanding.
The enormous circular array spread across the clearing like some ancient summoning diagram from forgotten times, its perimeter was about fifteen meters in diameter as specified.
Deep crimson lines glowed with an eerie, pulsing luster in the fading daylight seeming to draw in the surrounding shadows. Complex geometric patterns interlocked within the outer ring, creating layers of meaning that hurt to look at too directly.
The whole construction emanated a strange, oppressive presence.
Morris couldn't shake the feeling that he looked exactly like some dark wizard from old legends, conducting forbidden evil magical experiments in secret locations away from civilized world. The kind of wicked sorcerer that heroic wizards were supposed to stop.
Uh... well, to be completely fair and honest with himself, that description wasn't entirely inaccurate, was it?
He shook his head firmly dismissing these uncomfortable self-reflective thoughts.
Before anyone stumbled upon this clearing and discovered what he was doing, he'd better finish this important experimental business as quickly as possible.