"Welcome." A witch wearing a checked apron hurried out from behind the counter.
Her gaze lingered briefly on Harold before turning to Morris. "Getting ready for Hogwarts? We have plenty of owls suitable for first-years."
Hoots and the fluttering of wings sounded throughout the shop.
"Yes." Morris's attention was immediately drawn to the owls. "I'd like to look around myself."
"Just call me if you have any questions." The witch nodded in understanding and returned behind the counter, giving Morris plenty of space.
"I'll wait by the door. I'm allergic to birds," Harold said.
Morris nodded and headed for the owl section alone, walking slowly between the neatly arranged perches.
Since he was choosing a mail carrier, the stronger the better.
The owls seemed to know they were merchandise being chosen, tilting their heads and watching the arriving customers curiously.
Other customers were choosing pets in the shop, including several children around Morris's age, presumably also new Hogwarts students.
"Oh, sorry."
A girl engrossed in choosing an owl accidentally bumped into Morris's shoulder.
"It's fine."
Morris answered casually, his eyes fixed on a pure white owl.
It was a snowy owl.
Compared with the other owls, it was noticeably larger and looked more alert.
Just right, Morris thought.
"Um... hello, are you a new Hogwarts student too?"
Morris turned his head and found that the girl who had bumped into him earlier was trying to talk to him.
"Yes," he replied flatly, then returned his gaze to the snowy owl.
"..."
Seeing that Morris had no intention of continuing the conversation, the girl pressed her lips together in disappointment and turned toward another row of shelves.
Just then, the shop assistant seemed to realize that Morris wanted to buy the snowy owl and approached.
"Have you decided? This snowy owl is very healthy," she asked with a smile.
"I'll take this one... wait, isn't there something odd about that owl?"
Morris had been about to make his decision, but a cage farther back caught his attention.
Inside was a jet-black owl.
Its feathers were disheveled and its eyes dull, a stark contrast to the other lively owls.
The shop assistant followed Morris's gaze and sighed softly. "That's a great grey owl, though one this black is quite rare."
"Is it sick?" Morris asked.
"Yes, perhaps." The shop assistant was evasive. "It doesn't have long left. Have a look at the others."
No wonder.
Morris could smell a faint trace of death energy on this owl.
"How much would it cost if I wanted to buy it?" Morris asked.
The shop assistant visibly froze, surprise crossing her face. "You really want to buy it?"
"How much?" Morris repeated.
"To tell you the truth, sir," the shop assistant lowered her voice, "this owl was cursed by a Dark wizard and has only two days left to live. We're keeping it here to care for it, just to make its final moments more comfortable."
"That's all right," Morris said. "Perhaps my uncle can find a way to cure him."
In fact, it would not matter if it died. Morris could find a way to bring it to life, simply by turning it into an undead creature.
Hearing Morris's words, the shop assistant suddenly became flustered.
He composed himself and explained, "Sir, even with the owl in this condition, we can't offer you any discount. Those are the rules."
By then, Morris had already reached into the cage.
The great grey owl weakly raised its head and gently touched his finger with its beak.
"That's fine. I'll take it," Morris said firmly.
The shop assistant hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. "If you insist... ten Galleons. That includes a cage and a month's supply of owl feed."
She brought over an elegant birdcage and carefully transferred the great grey owl into it.
The weak owl fluttered its wings slightly as it entered its new cage, then went still, as though it had fallen asleep.
"Good luck," the shop assistant said softly as she handed Morris the cage.
When Morris returned to the entrance after paying, he saw Harold talking to two strangers.
"Oh, Morris, you're back." Harold introduced them. "This is, this is Mr. Granger and Mrs. Granger. Their daughter is also a new Hogwarts student."
The couple smiled warmly at Morris.
Morris guessed that they had probably approached Harold because he was dressed entirely like a Muggle.
After all, there were not many people wearing suits in Diagon Alley.
"Hello," Morris greeted them politely.
Mr. Granger's attention was involuntarily drawn to the great grey owl in the cage Morris was carrying.
"Your owl looks very nice," he said.
"Yes, very nice," Morris said honestly. "Though it only has two days left to live."
Mr. Granger clearly had not expected that reply and looked puzzled. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to turn it into grilled bird."
"?"
Mr. Granger opened his mouth, then stopped short.
"It's getting late. We should go. Goodbye, Mr. Granger."
"Er... goodbye."
Morris pulled Harold away from the pet shop in a hurry.
Afterward, Mr. Granger walked outside and took another doubtful look at the sign.
Yes, this was a pet shop, not a food shop.
"Why the hurry?" Harold asked in confusion once they were far from the pet shop.
"It's dangerous to talk to strangers," Morris answered without looking back.
Harold froze for a moment, then nodded helplessly.
Fine, you're the wizard. You're right.
But he kept feeling as though his and Morris's roles had been reversed.
"Is this the owl you bought?" Harold changed the subject, looking at the cage in Morris's hand. "It doesn't look very lively."
"It's dying," Morris said casually. "Actually, I wasn't lying earlier. It really only has two days left to live."
"You're not really going to grill it, are you?" Harold blanched.
Morris stopped and gave him a look that said, "Are you an idiot?"
Harold gave a couple of awkward chuckles.
Only when they started walking again did Morris explain, "It doesn't matter even if it dies. I can bring it back to life."
Harold's eyes widened, and even his voice trembled a little. "That's possible? Bringing dead creatures back to life?"
"More or less," Morris answered calmly. "Have you seen any zombie movies?"
The abrupt question left Harold momentarily speechless.
Images of those shambling living dead surfaced in his mind, and his face immediately turned pale. "You're not planning to... turn it into one of those things, are you?"
Morris did not answer directly, merely giving the birdcage a gentle shake. "Don't worry. It'll be much more elegant than that."
For a moment, Harold did not know what to say.
Wizards were truly terrifying.
He carefully thought back.
Yes, he probably had not done anything to offend the young master before him.