"Mind your own business, Black," Malfoy said coldly. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you today. If you know what's good for you, you'll get lost right now before things become unpleasant."
Upon hearing this dismissive threat, Crabbe and Goyle immediately stepped forward, moving to surround their master like loyal guard dogs. Their large body blocked more of the corridor, and their stupid faces tried to show threatening expressions.
The atmosphere in the corridor instantly became tense.
At the same time, Tin-Tin leisurely licked its front paw with a rasping tongue beside Morris's feet, then lazily glanced toward Draco with contempt in its blue-flame eyes.
This human again, the cat thought with irritation. Even though he'd already been taught a lesson last time, he still didn't have the sense to run away the moment he saw their master approaching.
Commendable courage.
Neville, caught between the two opposing forces and completely unable to move due to his cursed legs, was so frightened by the escalating tension that he even forgot to continue sobbing or pleading.
He stared wide-eyed, his face had gone completely pale with terror, watching both sides like a spectator at a duel who'd accidentally found himself standing in the direct line of fire.
It seemed like... something terrible was about to happen?
Should he try to call for a professor? But how could he, when he couldn't even walk?
Morris, in stark contrast to the building tension, raised an eyebrow with amusement but otherwise appeared completely relaxed and unconcerned by the implicit threat.
He chuckled warmly.
"Don't be so tense, Malfoy," Morris said casually. "Remember what the Dungbomb tasted like? That delightful flavor experience we shared several months ago?"
Morris's smile widened. "I brought some with me today too, actually. I heard it's the newest version available at Zonko's with an even longer-lasting flavor profile and improved adhesion properties. Would you like to test it? For science?"
At these seemingly casual words, Malfoy's face instantly turned green.
The unpleasant memory came flooding back against his will.
He remembered again, the Dungbomb that Morris had managed to leave them with several months ago during their first hostile encounter.
He had to 'enjoy' that immersive experience for a full ten agonizing minutes!
Ten minutes of gagging, of that overwhelming stench filling his nose and mouth and throat, of feeling like he was drowning in a sewer.
That smell had become his psychological trauma. Sometimes he still smelled it when there was nothing actually there.
Malfoy shook his head vigorously, trying desperately to dispel that unbearable memory from his mind, but his expression was growing increasingly gloomy and dark with frustrated rage.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to oppose me?" Malfoy asked, his voice sounded dangerous.
"Yes," Morris interrupted cheerfully, nodding. His smile remained bright and completely unintimidated. "I'm quite sure. So, what are you going to do about it? Use the Leg-Locker Curse on me? Let me warn you in advance—that probably won't be very effective."
Looking at Morris's fearless expression, Draco felt an unprecedented surge of anger and humiliated rage burning in his chest.
But even through his anger. There was simply no way around the problem: he couldn't beat Black in a confrontation.
Unless he could somehow bring over those upper-year Slytherin students who were on relatively good terms with him, he had no chance of winning this confrontation.
That bizarre bone cage magic that Morris had used during their last encounter—Draco still hadn't figured out what kind of spell it was, where it came from, or how to counter it.
The uncertainty of facing unknown magic was deeply unsettling.
Malfoy took a deep breath. He understood that if he continued this standoff and escalated to actual spell-exchange, he would definitely be at a severe disadvantage.
Better to retreat and maintain dignity than to fight and lose spectacularly in front of witnesses.
"...We're leaving," Malfoy announced through gritted teeth. "This isn't worth my time anyway."
He jerked his head sharply toward Crabbe and Goyle in a gesture of command, then turned on his back and walked away quickly.
Crabbe and Goyle stood stunned for a long moment, their slow minds were trying to process this unexpected turn of events. They were somewhat confused about why they were leaving when they'd clearly had numerical superiority.
But seeing that Malfoy had already departed and was rapidly putting distance between himself and the confrontation, they exchanged uncertain glances and then hurried to follow their master like the loyal minions they were.
Seeing this satisfying outcome, Morris felt quite pleased with himself and the general effectiveness of his approach.
When dealing with Slytherins—particularly the spoiled, entitled ones like Malfoy who relied more on family name than actual ability, being tough and demonstrating superior strength was indeed the most effective approach.
They respected power and feared humiliation. Show them you were stronger, and they'd back down almost every time rather than risk public defeat.
Morris walked calmly over to where Neville still stood frozen with his legs magically locked together, looking like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
Morris gently waved his wand in the pattern for the counter-curse.
"Finite Incantatem!"
The Leg-Locker Curse binding Neville's legs was instantly lifted and dispelled.
Neville's legs immediately went weak and shaky, partly from the suddenly restored circulation and partly from the adrenaline and fear that had been coursing through his system. He quickly grabbed onto the nearby stone wall for support to prevent himself from falling.
"Th-thank you, Black," he said in a small, somewhat awed voice. "I really... thank you. I don't know what I would have done if..."
"No problem at all," Morris said easily, patting Neville's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "Try to avoid isolated corridors when Malfoy's around. Travel in groups when possible."
Then Morris turned to continue on his way toward the eighth floor and the Room of Requirement, his mind was already returning to thoughts of the advancement ritual he was about to perform.
"Wait!" Neville called out hurriedly behind him, his voice was cracking slightly with urgency and trembling with nervousness.
Morris paused in mid steps and turned around with slight curiosity.
"Is there something else, Longbottom?"
Neville gathered his courage as he forced himself to ask the question that was burning in his mind.
"That... why is Malfoy afraid of you?" he stammered, the words were coming out in an awkward rush. "I mean, why didn't he try to use spells on you? He usually doesn't back down from anyone."
In Neville's understanding and experience, Malfoy feared nothing and no one, certainly not fellow students.
So why had he basically slunk away with his tail between his legs when confronted by this Ravenclaw student who was in the exact same year as himself?
Morris looked at Neville's anxious, genuinely confused expression and smiled.
"Because my magic is stronger than his," Morris explained simply, stating it as obvious fact rather than boasting. "He can't beat me in a direct confrontation, and he knows it from experience. It's really that straightforward."
Such a direct, honest answer left Neville stunned and speechless for a moment.
"Practice the spells more, Longbottom," Morris continued, his tone was becoming slightly more serious and instructive.
"Work on your spell-casting, your wand control, your confidence in using magic. If you could reliably cast even just a Disarming Charm or a decent Impediment Jinx that would be enough to at least slow down Malfoy and give you time to escape or call for help."
Morris paused, making sure Neville was listening carefully.
"If Malfoy knew you could actually fight back, that there was a real chance you might curse him right back and make him look foolish, then when he wants to bully you, he'd have to think twice about whether it's worth the risk and effort."
Morris's expression became more intent.
"Strength is the fundamental reason people don't dare to provoke you lightly in this world. Remember that."
Neville nodded slowly, dumbly, his face showing that he was processing this new perspective on his situation.
"That's all the free wisdom I have to offer today," Morris said with a slight shrug. "Goodbye, Longbottom. Stay out of trouble."
Morris didn't actually know very much about Neville Longbottom personally beyond the basics, only remembering from casual observation and occasional mentions that the boy was rather timid, anxious, and introverted.
For people with malicious personalities like Draco Malfoy, that kind of fearful, non-confrontational temperament was simply the perfect target, an ideal punching bag who wouldn't fight back.
A textbook case of school bullying.
Morris wasn't a savior or a hero. He had no interest in that role and no time to be everyone's personal bodyguard against bullies.
This brief reminder about building strength and one rescue from harassment was already his rare display of kindness.
He couldn't and wouldn't make it a habit.
Morris didn't linger any longer in conversation and walked quickly away toward the eighth floor, his mind was already moving past the minor confrontation to focus on more important matters.
Walking back and forth three times in front of the blank wall opposite the bizarre troll ballet tapestry, while silently chanting "I need a spacious and empty room" three times in his mind with focused intention, the entrance to the Room of Requirement smoothly appeared before him.
The familiar wooden door with its brass handle appeared as if it had always been there.
Morris grasped the metal handle and pushed the door open with excitement, then stepped through into this remarkable magical space.
The room was exactly the same as during his previous visit.
Morris closed the door behind him. He had Sparkles emerge from where it had been concealing in his shadow and stand together with Tin-Tin who'd been walking beside him.
"All right, you two," Morris said, looking between the cat and the owl. "Which one of you wants to undergo the advancement ritual first?"
A gleam of eager excitement flashed immediately in Tin-Tin's eyes, and it was about to step forward enthusiastically to volunteer—
SMACK!
Sparkles moved slapping Tin-Tin aside with one powerful wing sweep. The cat went tumbling across the floor in a sprawl of bones.
"Meow!" Tin-Tin protested indignantly.
The cat got back up with as much dignity as it could muster, arched its spine in a classic aggressive cat posture, bared its teeth at Sparkles in a threatening display—
Then silently and wisely crouched in a corner, recognizing that discretion was the better part of valor.
Fine. You're the boss, you call the shots.
Sparkles raised its head proudly in victory, shaking its black and shiny feathers with satisfaction like a victorious general who'd just won an important battle.
Morris watched this entire amusing scene play out.
It seemed that without his knowledge or deliberate instruction, his three undead creatures had already independently established a clear social hierarchy and pecking order among themselves.
Sparkles was unquestionably at the top, dominant over the others. Then came Tin-Tin in the middle position. The Skeleton Dog occupied the bottom rung.
Sparkles > Tin-Tin > Skeleton Dog.
Morris didn't particularly mind this development.
And from Tin-Tin's relatively casual reaction, it didn't seem that the cat truly minded the established hierarchy either.
They were just playing around like any group of animals, living or undead.
Morris placed his backpack carefully on the ground, unzipped it, and took out all his prepared tools and materials.
Then he began the process of setting up the undead creature advancement ritual in the center of the room.
An hour later, after careful work, the magic circle was successfully completed to Morris's satisfaction.
Everything was ready.
"Go ahead and enter the circle's center," Morris said, nodding toward Sparkles who waited nearby with anticipation.
"The advancement process might be a bit uncomfortable. But you need to bear with it. Don't panic or try to escape the circle once it starts."
Sparkles called out softly in acknowledgment, then waddled over to the precise center of the magic circle.
Seeing this, Morris used Transfiguration magic to create a simple but sturdy wooden perch rising from the ground, better for an owl to stand on something appropriate rather than just the bare earth.
Sparkles hopped onto the perch and gripped it with its bone talons, settling into a stable position.
Then Morris took a deep breath, centered himself mentally, and concentrated his full attention on the ritual.
The undead creature advancement ritual officially began.
Morris began chanting the necessary incantations in the ancient language documented in the Mage's Book.
As he spoke, he activated the magic circle through a series of specific gestures and directed applications of his own magical power, causing the chalk lines to begin glowing brighter with intensity.
Then came the crucial step: adding sufficient Gate Energy crystals into the designated place around the circle's perimeter, feeding power into the ritual structure.
BOOM!
After the magic circle was fully charged with energy and the ritual reached its activation threshold, violent turbulent airflow instantly exploded from the circle's center with tremendous force.
The magical shockwave rippled through the room like an invisible explosion.
Under this powerful impact, even the enchanted torches on the stone walls began to flicker wildly.
Having gone through this process once before with the Skeleton Dog, Morris was prepared this time and had stepped back several cautious paces in advance. He stood at a safe distance, calmly observing the ritual's progression without surprise or concern.
Although the entire magic circle rapidly became completely occupied by dense gray-black fog, making it impossible to see anything within the circle including Sparkles herself, Morris remained confident.
He believed Sparkles should be able to handle the transformation process successfully.
Gradually, all the black fog seemed to be drawn by some powerful attraction or gravitational force and began to contract violently in toward the circle's center, moving faster and faster with increasing momentum.
The mist spiraled, forming a rotating vortex that spun at incredible speed.
It took only a few short minutes for Sparkles to completely absorb all the black fog without leaving even a wisp behind.
The ritual chamber fell suddenly silent.
The ritual was successfully completed!
Morris noted with interest that this entire advancement process had been several times faster than when the Skeleton Dog had undergone its first Undead Creature Advancement Ritual.
Morris walked forward cautiously to the now-quiet magic circle and carefully examined the "brand new" advanced Sparkles with intense curiosity.
From external appearance alone, there was almost no visible change to the owl. It was still the same pitch-black color. Her body size and proportions were roughly the same as before.
The only immediately obvious difference that Morris could detect was that the flames burning in Sparkles's empty eye sockets had become more solid and substantial-looking.
"How do you feel?" Morris asked, reaching out to rub Sparkles's head a few times.
Mm, still the familiar smooth texture.
Sparkles gently nuzzled his fingers and then let out a soft, pleased call.
"You've gained a special ability?" Morris asked eagerly. "Show it to me."
Following Morris's command with enthusiasm, Sparkles turned its head and focused its intensified gaze on Tin-Tin who was still crouching in the corner nearby.
Tin-Tin, suddenly finding itself the target of attention: "?"
Why do I suddenly have a very ominous feeling? the cat thought with growing alarm.
The next second, before Tin-Tin could react, the shadow beneath its feet suddenly began to writhe and move.
The darkness bulged up like something was pushing up from beneath, then stretched and extended, rapidly transforming into several flexible shadow tentacles that looked semi-solid.
The shadow tentacles moved with speed wrapping around Tin-Tin's four limbs with iron-grip strength and lifted the struggling cat into the air where it dangled helplessly.
"Meow meow meow!?" Tin-Tin protested frantically.