Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday was exceptionally, almost eerily quiet.
Most students had left for home on the Hogwarts Express.
The next afternoon, Morris found the Weasley twins wandering somewhat aimlessly in the snow-covered courtyard.
They were engaged in what appeared to be a halfhearted attempt at building a snow fort, though from the haphazard construction and frequent pauses for snowball fights with each other, the project seemed more excuse for outdoor activity.
"Fred, George," Morris called out as he approached across the white stretch. His breath misted in the cold air.
Both redheads turned simultaneously.
"Morris!" Fred exclaimed, abandoning his snow construction immediately. "Come to help us build the greatest fortress Hogwarts has ever seen? We're planning to ambush Percy when he does his prefect rounds later."
"Actually," Morris said, getting directly to his purpose, "I have a different proposal. You want to practice dueling with me?"
The request clearly surprised both twins. They exchanged quick glances, their expressions changed from playful to concerned.
"You want to practice dueling with us?" Fred repeated slowly.
After a brief pause to process this unexpected request, Fred immediately asked with concern, "Is someone bullying you at school? Has someone been giving you trouble?"
"Or did something happen to upset you recently?" George chimed in, also casting a puzzled, worried look at Morris.
The twins, despite their constant joking and pranks, were decent people who looked out for their friends. Their concern was obviously genuine.
Morris weighed his wand thoughtfully in his hand, turning it over between his fingers as he voiced his explanation.
"Nothing like that," he assured them calmly. "I just want to get an accurate assessment of my real strength and combat capabilities."
It was a reasonable desire, though perhaps unusual for a first-year student to pursue so deliberately.
Although he had successfully and instantly subdued three adult wizards in Knockturn Alley using the Bone-Summoning Charm, Morris remained clear-eyed about the circumstances of that victory.
At the end of the day, that success was primarily because those particular opponents had been too stupid, too complacent, and too dismissive of a child's potential threat.
But against actually competent opponents? Wizards who took him seriously from the start?
Morris honestly didn't have a clear, practical grasp of his actual combat ability in those conditions. He only had a vague feeling, an intuitive sense that suggested it wasn't too bad but feelings and intuition weren't reliable measures of capability.
"What spells do you actually know?" Fred asked pragmatically, his concern was shifting to curiosity about Morris's capabilities.
Morris considered the question carefully, not wanting to oversell his abilities but also being honest about his repertoire.
"A bit of everything, I suppose," He said, downplaying his knowledge. "If we're specifically talking about spells that can be effectively used in combat situations—I know the Blasting Curse, the Flame-Making Spell, Summoning Charm, Disarming Charm, Shield Charm, Stunning Spell, and a few others. Not a huge arsenal, but barely enough for basic dueling."
He deliberately didn't mention the Bone-Summoning Spell or any of the other more questionable magic from the Mage's Book.
"Are you actually joking right now?" Fred asked incredulously, looking Morris up and down with suspicion and disbelief. "What normal person could possibly learn all those spells in a single term? You're a first-year!"
Morris chuckled lightly.
"I'm a genius, remember?" he said as if stating an obvious truth like 'the sky is blue' or 'water is wet.' "Learning spells quickly is what geniuses do. It's perfectly reasonable that I'd progress faster than average students."
"..."
Fred and George exchanged long glances, their eyebrows raising in synchronization. For several seconds, they were momentarily speechless, trying to determine if Morris was serious or joking.
Although saying such things might strike most people as somewhat arrogant or boastful, Morris genuinely, honestly thought his assessment was accurate and reasonable.
His talent in charms and spell-work was definitely, considerably higher than normal students.
"All right, Mr. Genius," Fred finally said, breaking the silence.
He crossed his arms across his chest and adopted a teasing, challenging tone. "Since you're so remarkably confident in your abilities, let us see this strength you claim to possess. Show us what a first-year 'genius' can actually do."
Morris and Fred took their positions on opposite sides of the snow-covered courtyard, putting about twenty feet of open space between them.
Both raised their wands to ready positions.
George positioned himself halfway between between them, serving as referee and hopefully emergency medical responder if things went badly wrong.
"Wands ready... Begin!"
With George's sharp call, Morris struck first without hesitation.
He had no intention of cautiously testing the waters or feeling out his opponent's capabilities gradually.
His wand swept forward in a precise motion. "Stupefy!"
A red bolt of light erupted from his wand tip, shooting straight toward Fred's chest with impressive speed and accuracy.
Fred, who had originally approached this entire exercise with a somewhat playful, casual attitude was genuinely startled by the speed and power of the incoming spell.
His eyes widened in alarm, and he hurriedly waved his wand in the defensive pattern he knew by instinct. "Protego!"
A shimmering shield appeared in the air before him just in time.
"BANG!"
The Stunning Spell struck solidly against the magical barrier, producing a loud, dull impact sound like a hammer hitting a gong.
Fred clearly felt considerable force transmitted through his shield charm despite the successful block. The impact rattled his arm and he staggered back a full step.
"Whoa!" George whistled appreciatively from his position on the sideline, his eyes were lighting up with excitement and surprise. "That was a proper Stunner! Get serious, Fred!"
Fred steadied himself, planting his feet more firmly in the snow, and narrowed his eyes with focus. His casual attitude had completely vanished.
It seemed his opponent was taking this seriously and had real capability to back up his confidence. He couldn't afford to hold back or treat this like a game anymore.
"Right then," Fred muttered, raising his wand. "Let's see what you've really got."
He began his counterstrike. "Rictusem—"
His incantation was only halfway completed when—
"Whoosh! Whoosh!"
Two streaks of red light suddenly shot from the side corridor that opened into the courtyard, coming from an unexpected angle. Both spells curved through the air with precision, one targeting Morris and one targeting Fred.
Too fast!
Morris's combat instincts screamed danger. He didn't have time to properly cast the Shield Charm, which he admittedly wasn't very proficient with yet.
Acting purely on instinct and reflex, Morris used the Bone-Summoning Spell instead. A curved shield of pale white bone appeared instantly in the air before him, deflecting the incoming spell with a sharp crack.
As for Fred, caught mid-casting and unable to defend, he only felt his wand hand go suddenly, completely numb. His wand flew from his loosened grip, spinning through the air toward the corridor in a perfect arc.
It was caught steadily, by a small figure who'd emerged from the shadows.
It was Professor Flitwick!
He stood in the courtyard entrance with Fred's wand held in one small hand while his own wand remained raised and ready in the other.
"Fighting is strictly forbidden on school!" Professor Flitwick said sharply as he walked toward the center of the courtyard with quick, hurried little steps. "Gentlemen, I need an immediate explanation for this display of combat magic!"
The three students looked at each other with expressions mixing frustration and amusement at the absurd situation. This was not how they'd planned for this to go.
Clearly, Professor Flitwick had observed their duel from a distance, misunderstood the situation completely, and assumed they were in some kind of conflict.
Fred quickly stepped forward to clarify before the professor could start deducting house points or assigning detention.
"Professor Flitwick, please, this isn't what it looks like," he said earnestly, raising both hands in a pacifying gesture. "We weren't fighting or having any kind of conflict. We were just practicing charms together."
"Really?" Professor Flitwick turned to Morris with skepticism.
After all, many genuinely malicious conflicts between students used "practicing charms" or "just fooling around" as convenient excuses when caught by faculty. He'd heard that particular explanation countless times over his decades of teaching, and it was rarely true.
Morris nodded firmly, maintaining eye contact to demonstrate honesty.
"This was purely a sparring match for training purposes, Professor. We agreed to practice beforehand. George was serving as our referee and would have stopped things if they got dangerous."
Professor Flitwick's gaze shifted to George, who stood off to the side looking somewhat sheepish, and his stern expression softened slightly with understanding.
Indeed, if this were an actual hostile conflict between students, it would most likely be the twins ganging up together two-on-one against Morris. The fact that George was separate and serving as referee did lend credibility to their story.
He walked over to Fred and returned his wand with a gentle hand, though his voice remained serious.
"When practicing potentially dangerous charms, particularly combat spells—it is essential to have a professor present to supervise, or to conduct your practice in a dedicated classroom with full protective enchantments already in place,"
Professor Flitwick lectured. "What you were doing was reckless and dangerous. Someone could have been seriously hurt."
Fred interjected quickly from the side, trying to demonstrate their responsibility. "It's all right, Professor. We were actually very well prepared for potential injuries. We took precautions."
"Oh?" Professor Flitwick was taken somewhat aback by this claim, his skepticism was returning. "Prepared exactly how? What precautions?"
"We brought a large bottle of Dittany for burns and cuts," Fred explained, pulling the mentioned bottle from his robe pocket to show the professor.
"And we have fluffy, warm blankets!" George added enthusiastically, rushing over and pulling an actual thick woolen blanket from somewhere behind a snowbank where they'd apparently stashed supplies. "See? We thought it through!"
The twins looked genuinely proud of their preparation, as if a bottle of healing essence and some blankets constituted adequate medical facilities.
Professor Flitwick sighed deeply.
"I'll supervise your practice personally," he announced, conjuring himself a chair. "You may continue your duel. But just this once, understand?"
He was genuinely afraid these three students might accidentally send each other or themselves directly to the Hospital Wing or worse, to meet Merlin in the afterlife, if left completely unsupervised.
With a qualified professor presiding over the match and ready to intervene if necessary, Morris and Fred's charm practice and dueling became considerably more uninhibited and aggressive.
They no longer held back or worried excessively about accidentally causing serious injury. Professor Flitwick's presence meant they could push their limits safely.
For several intensive minutes, the light from various spells illuminated the white snow in brilliant, shifting colors.
Professor Flitwick grew increasingly alarmed and impressed the longer he watched the exchange.
Although Fred's theoretical grades in Charms class weren't particularly great, he was undoubtedly a top-tier practical student when it came to actually casting charms in real-time situations.
However... what in Merlin's name was going on with Morris Black?
He had known Morris learned charms quickly—the boy had demonstrated remarkable aptitude from his very first class. But the term had only been four months long. A single academic term!
The level of sophisticated charm work being displayed by this first-year Ravenclaw student was simply incredible! Almost unbelievable!
Looking at the current performance, Flitwick realized with amazement, the somewhat exaggerated boast he'd made to Professor Babbling yesterday at the Three Broomsticks about Morris being able to take on a troll single-handedly might actually be completely true!
"Expelliarmus!"
Finally, after several minutes of intense back-and-forth exchange, Morris's Disarming Charm flew from a particularly tricky angle.
The red light struck Fred's wand hand perfectly, and the wand went flying from his numbed fingers in a spinning arc.
Morris caught it smoothly from the air.
Professor Flitwick blew a sharp blast on a silver whistle that he'd conjured from somewhere mid-duel.
"All right, children, that's quite enough for today!" he announced firmly, vanishing the whistle with a flick of his wand. "Training session is concluded! Excellent work from both of you, but I think we've pushed our luck far enough."
Morris lowered his wands, breathing harder than he'd expected, and wiped accumulated sweat from his brow despite the cold air. He walked forward with a smile of satisfaction and handed Fred's wand back to him.
"That was quite an interesting and educational duel, Fred," he said warmly, meaning every word.
"You little..." Fred panted heavily, his face was flushed from exertion and cold, rubbing his numb wrist where the Disarming Charm had struck. "Where exactly did you come from, you absolute monster? What are you?"
"Not a monster—a genius, remember?" Morris corrected with a completely straight face.
Fred groaned and threw a handful of snow at him, which Morris dodged easily.
Now, after that intensive practical test against a skilled opponent, Morris could roughly and more accurately judge his own actual combat strength and capabilities.
Without using any of the magic from the Mage's Book relying purely on standard curriculum spells and techniques, he was marginally stronger than Fred.
Third-year level, then, he calculated mentally.
It seemed he still needed to work considerably harder to reach the level he aspired to.
After an exhausting afternoon of intensive charm practice and dueling, the twins finally departed to Gryffindor Tower.
Morris headed alone toward the Great Hall as evening approached, his stomach was reminding him that he'd skipped lunch and burned significant magical energy during the duel.
It was genuinely worth praising that although the four long house tables were mostly empty with only scattered students here and there, the Hogwarts house-elves had not been perfunctory or lazy in their duties.
The food was still as abundant and high-quality as ever, despite the reduced student population.
There was roasted chicken, beef stew, fresh bread, vegetables, potatoes, and, Morris's face lit up when he spotted it even his favorite caramel pudding, gleaming golden-brown and perfect in its serving dish.
"This is what true enjoyment is all about," Morris sighed contentedly as he spooned up the first taste of pudding. "This is what I've been missing."
At the Leaky Cauldron during his stay in Diagon Alley, he'd been limited to eating mostly dry, somewhat stale sandwiches and something Tom had called "stew" that tasted predominantly of beer with occasional chunks of mysterious meat floating in it.
This was infinitely better.
Just as Morris was becoming completely immersed in the pudding's perfectly balanced silky sweetness, enjoying the rich caramel flavor with its hints of vanilla and butter, he heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Harry Potter walking toward him.
"Morris, are you free tonight?" Harry asked. "I think you need to see something. There's a mirror and I think you need to see it just as much as I needed to."