Morris's proposed collaboration was simple.
Frick would provide the raw materials, access to his customer base and sales channels in Knockturn Alley. Morris would provide the undead creatures through 'ritual' magic. Together, they would jointly provide skeleton dogs for commercial sale, splitting the profits precisely fifty-fifty down the middle.
In reality, Frick wasn't particularly optimistic about this venture's commercial prospects, despite his agreement to participate. His expression carried skepticism even as he nodded along with Morris's enthusiastic pitch.
Most customers who regularly frequented his store came to purchase raw bones for their own magical experiments, potion brewing that required skeleton components, or dark rituals that Morris probably didn't want to know too much about. They wanted materials, not finished products.
Skeleton dogs as pets would most likely not become bestsellers in his usual market customer base.
The business of Knockturn Alley generally had very specific, often disturbing needs, and "cute undead pet" rarely made the list. Only customers like Lady Caroline would show interest in such creatures.
Still, Frick had to admit, it wasn't entirely unfeasible as a business. With his sales channels, his reputation in the area, and his connections to the wealthier eccentrics of the wizarding world, he could probably at least move a few units.
Besides, he personally had nothing to lose from this arrangement. Morris was providing all the actual labor and magical skill. Frick merely had to supply materials he already possessed in abundance and help facilitate sales. The profit margin was quite decent for basically passive income.
"All right, let's try it," Frick said, making his decision. "I'll provide the specimens. You work your magic. We'll see how the market responds."
He immediately turned and walked toward the back room where his warehouse entrance was located, disappearing through the door Morris had seen earlier.
Several minutes later, Frick returned carrying an armload of skeleton specimens.
He'd retrieved five crup dog skeletons from his warehouse inventory. Some were clearly newer ones. Others were older stock that had been sitting on shelves for months or years. Their overall conditions varied considerably, but Frick had selected carefully to ensure they were all relatively complete specimens.
Frick laid the five skeletons out on his shop counter for Morris's inspection, then pulled his wand and cast a practiced Shrinking Charm on each one. "Reducio, reducio, reducio..."
The skeletons diminished rapidly, shrinking down to about one-quarter their normal size. Each miniaturized skeleton was carefully wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, then the whole collection was packaged together in a sturdy cloth bag that Frick handed to Morris with both hands.
"There you are," Frick said. "Five quality specimens, ready for your... process. Whatever that entails."
Morris accepted the surprisingly light package with satisfaction, tucking it into his backpack alongside his other belongings.
"Then it's settled," Morris said with a satisfied nod. "Goodbye, Frick. I'll bring you the finished products in two days. We can complete the transaction with Lady Caroline then if she's available, and you can see the quality of my work."
The fact that skeleton dogs could be reliably sold for money—two hundred fifty Galleons per unit if Lady Caroline's offer was representative of market value was excellent news for Morris. At the very least, it would help alleviate his current dire financial situation considerably.
Of course, Morris had already decided that he would currently only sell skeleton dogs that qualified as first-tier undead creatures. Apart from serving as obedient pets, watchdogs, or curiosities for collectors, these basic skeleton dogs had almost no other practical use.
Advanced skeleton dogs, however those that had undergone the advancement ritual he'd recently discovered, he would never sell to anyone.
Though second-tier undead skeleton dogs had only modest enhanced abilities at present, what about third-tier advancement? Fourth-tier? Fifth-tier and beyond?
Morris had no idea what the upper limits of the advancement system might be. Until his own personal strength and ability to defend himself reached a certain comfortable level, he would never reveal the special nature of skeleton dogs to anyone.
Morris was slinging his backpack over his shoulder, preparing to leave the shop and begin his work, when Frick's voice called out to stop him.
"Wait a moment!" Frick said urgently, raising one hand. "Before you go back out into Knockturn Alley—when walking outside in this area, it's essential to cover your face."
"I understand," Morris replied, appreciating the reminder.
He turned back to face Frick properly and gave a slight nod. Then, as soon as the words of agreement had left his lips, Morris raised one hand and concentrated his will.
A mask composed of pale white bone began to gradually appear on his face. The bone spread across his skin, covering his nose, cheeks, and forehead while leaving his eyes visible through openings.
The mask's edges weren't smooth—irregular bone spikes were protruded at various points along the perimeter, creating a rather ferocious, intimidating appearance. The overall effect was unsettling and memorable in exactly the right way for Knockturn Alley.
The Bone Summoning Spell really was remarkably convenient for this sort of practical application, Morris thought with satisfaction.
Watching the pale bone mask appear and shape itself on Morris's young face with such ease, Frick felt, for reasons he couldn't quite articulate, a faint chill run down his spine.
"Be careful out there," Frick said softly, his tone was more serious than before.
Morris nodded once more, then turned and walked out into the gloom of Knockturn Alley.
After heading straight back to Diagon Alley, Morris removed all his disguises. He looked back at the dim alley, feeling somewhat contemplative. Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley were less than a hundred meters apart, yet they were two entirely different worlds.
Morris shook off these thoughts and focused on more practical concerns.
"First priority: I need to find a place to stay for the next few days," Morris thought to himself as he made his way back through Diagon Alley's now-familiar streets toward the Leaky Cauldron's entrance.
Morris walked directly up to the bar where Tom was engaged in wiping glasses.
"Excuse me," Morris said politely, waiting for Tom's attention. "I need to rent a room for four days. How much will that cost?"
Tom paused his movements and looked Morris over. "A single room?" he asked.
"Yes," Morris nodded.
"Ten Galleons," Tom leaned forward and lowered his voice. "If you're running away from home, kid, you'd better go back. We don't have Christmas trees here."
"Oh, I'm not running away," Morris assured him calmly.
He reached into his robe and took out his wallet and counted out ten gold Galleons.
Tom collected the coins then bent down and pulled out a brass key from beneath the counter.
"Third floor, room at the end of the hall on the left," Tom instructed, sliding the key across the bar toward Morris. "Window faces the back courtyard—relatively quiet since it doesn't overlook the main street. You won't get disturbed by drunk singing or late-night revelry. Do you need meals included?"
"Not for now, thank you," Morris replied. He took the key properly and turned toward the narrow, somewhat rickety staircase that led to the upper floors.
Behind him, he heard Tom mutter something under his breath about "kids these days, too independent for their own good" before the barkeeper returned to his glass-wiping.
Morris climbed the creaking stairs, the sounds of the pub was fading with each level until only muffled voices and distant clattering dishes could be heard.
Morris reached the end of the third-floor hallway and turned the key to enter. Inside was an ordinary hotel room with dated facilities, but at least it was clean. Though the room was quite small, it was at least large enough to set up an undead creature transformation magic circle.
He locked the door and arranged the five crup dog skeletons on the floor. The skeletons immediately returned to their normal size.
"All right, time to get to work," Morris said to the empty room, rolling up his sleeves.
Transforming a single undead creature through the ritual magic circle wasn't particularly difficult for Morris at this point. He'd performed the process enough times to have it memorized completely.
However, when the quantity increased significantly, it became an entirely different matter altogether.
Morris had now developed a vague but functional ability to sense the "magical power" within his body. He could roughly judge his current magical power reserves, estimate how much a given spell or ritual would consume, and gauge how close he was to dangerous depletion.
After completing the transformation of the first two crup dog skeletons, Morris decisively stopped and stepped back from the magic circle.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the narrow bed, breathing somewhat harder than normal, and assessed his condition.
Though his magical power reservoir hadn't completely bottomed out, it had dropped to a level that required serious vigilance and caution.
Draining himself completely dry of magical energy would certainly not be a pleasant experience.
Morris glanced out the room's small, grimy window.
Darkness had fallen while he'd been absorbed in his ritual work, night had arrived without him noticing the transition. Outside, goose-feather-like snowflakes were falling steadily from the black sky, accumulating on windowsills and rooftops, muffling the usual city sounds.
Winter had truly arrived in London.
A thin thread of cold wind somehow managed to drill in through the window cracks despite the closed frame, making Morris shiver. The room's temperature had dropped, and his breath was beginning to show as faint mist.
He pulled out his wand, pointed it toward the small fireplace in the corner, and recited the incantation he'd learned early in his first term: "Incendio."
Blue flames like delicate bluebells emerged from his wand tip and flowed smoothly into the fireplace, igniting with a soft whoosh. The magical fire burned steadily, producing warmth without consuming any actual fuel, instantly dispelling the creeping cold from the small room.
Much better.
Morris settled back on the bed, feeling the pleasant warmth spreading through the space, and smiled slightly.
Indeed, magic was far more convenient than Muggle methods for basic comfort. Asking him to go an entire holiday without using magic for practical purposes would be harder than killing him at this point.
He understood now why wizards looked down on Muggle methods as primitive and inefficient. Once you experienced the magical alternatives, going back seemed absurd.
Over the next two days, Morris's life fell into a very regular pattern of work and rest.
During the daylight hours, he would wander around Diagon Alley at a leisurely pace, browsing shop windows, occasionally purchasing small items he needed, observing the holiday shoppers and their behavior, soaking in the festive atmosphere of the decorated street.
At night, after the sun had set and the streets had emptied somewhat, he would return to his rented room at the Leaky Cauldron and perform the undead creature transformation magic circle rituals with dedication.
Soon, time had come to December twenty-second. Today was the scheduled day of the transaction with Lady Caroline.
In Frick's shop in Knockturn Alley, five fresh skeleton dogs were running about with liveliness and energy.
Lady Caroline had arrived punctually at the agreed-upon time.
She was currently engaged in the pleasant process of selecting a skeleton dog to her liking, examining each of the five creatures.
Finally, she pointed at the skeleton dog with the smoothest, most perfectly formed pelvis bone.
"Oh, that one is quite good!" she exclaimed in admiration. "Look at the quality of those bones! Listen to the sound of those joints articulating as it moves! It is so crisp, so full of vitality!"
"I'll take it!" Lady Caroline said decisively, her mind was made up.
She produced from her robes a beautiful velvet coin purse adorned with small jewels that glittered. The purse appeared modest in size, but Lady Caroline began to continuously pour out gold Galleons from it in a stream.
The coins clinked and clanked as they fell from the purse onto Frick's counter in a growing pile.
At the same time, Morris crouched down to be at eye level with the chosen skeleton dog and spoke: "From today on, Lady Caroline is your master."
The blue flames in the skeleton dog's eye sockets flickered briefly in acknowledgment. Then it turned smoothly and trotted over to Lady Caroline's feet with a clatter of bones.
Lady Caroline was thoroughly satisfied with this display of obedience and immediate bonding. She reached down with her hand and stroked the skeleton dog's smooth skull with gentleness.
"So obedient!!" she praised warmly. "When I get home, I'm going to polish your bones until they shine like ivory, and I'll tie a beautiful dark green velvet ribbon around your neck!"
Morris watched this scene with relief and satisfaction.
The transaction was officially complete.
In fact, Morris could vaguely sense that every skeleton dog he created had a "contractual relationship" with him.
He was the original and most fundamental "master" of each undead creature. Even though he had now transferred control and commanded this particular skeleton dog to accept and serve a new master, this underlying connection hadn't disappeared or broken.
It had merely become extremely faint.
In other words, technically speaking, the skeleton dog was still ultimately under his control.
Of course, Morris hadn't deliberately intended to leave himself such a backdoor into his creations.
Rather, with his current abilities, he simply couldn't completely sever this connection. But it didn't particularly matter. What Lady Caroline wanted was simply an obedient, loyal pet and guard creature—something attractive and unusual to show off to her friends and colleagues.