Morris chatted with the two men for a while and discovered that the "antique business" Mundungus Fletcher was referring to was actually tomb raiding.
This man Castor seems to be somewhat well-known in the circle, specializing in targeting ancient wizarding tombs.
It is said that last summer they acquired a set of magical silver ritual implements in France, which are extremely valuable.
When Mundungus Fletcher introduced him, his tone carried an undisguised envy.
This piqued Morris's interest.
After all, one of his future career options was tomb raider... oh wait, I mean archaeologist.
" Morris?"
Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
Morris turned his head and found Professor McGonagall sitting at a table not far away, watching him.
Several other professors were sitting around him, and Professor Flitwick, one of them, waved to him with a smile.
There were several drinks and some food on their table; they were probably having a small get-together over the weekend.
"I'll go over there," Morris said to Mundungus Fletcher, then stood up.
He walked up to the professors and greeted them casually, "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. Did you call me?"
Professor McGonagall glanced past him, looked behind him, and asked, "Who were you talking to just now?"
"Friend," Morris replied.
"A friend?" Professor McGonagall's tone was somewhat displeased. "I know him. His name is Mundungus Fletcher Fletcher. A notorious liar and thief."
Morris raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised.
Is Mundungus Fletcher really that famous?
Even the professors recognize him?
Professor McGonagall looked directly at Morris. "So, are you sure he's your friend?"
"Yeah," Morris shrugged, "But don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I know Fletcher isn't a good guy."
He spoke so matter-of-factly that Professor McGonagall was momentarily at a loss for words.
Professor Flitwick coughed slightly. "Don't associate with bad people, Morris. I trust you can tell the difference."
"You have absolutely nothing to worry about," Morris smiled.
Professor McGonagall sighed softly.
Her student is really a headache.
Despite his excellent grades, you can never guess what's really going on in his head.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall suddenly remembered something and changed the subject, " Morris, you didn't apply to stay on campus for the Christmas break, did you?"
"Yes," Morris nodded, "I have some things to take care of."
Professor McGonagall's tone returned to its usual seriousness as she reminded him, "Remember, no magic is allowed outside."
Okay~
The Christmas holidays are about to begin.
With the sound of the Hogwarts Express, the castle suddenly became empty.
Morris did not board the train.
He piloted the Ship in a Bottle and found an open space near Hogsmeade to moor it.
In the days that followed, he spent almost all his time on the ship, only occasionally going to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley.
Honestly, this kind of life is very comfortable.
The cabin was fully equipped; Morris even installed a television in the living room to pass the time.
Unfortunately, magic severely interferes with the normal operation of electronic devices; the television can only function if the ship is taken to the Muggle world.
It's very troublesome, but there's no other way.
Christmas Day, early morning.
Morris got out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and walked barefoot across the warm wooden floor into the living room.
Outside the window, the endless, snow-covered mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, shimmering with a faint golden hue in the morning light.
He is currently in a mountainous region in central Europe.
As for why he's here...
Morris turned to look at the table, where the parchment Mundungus Fletcher had given him was spread out.
Two days ago, the compass drawn on the parchment led him to this place, but then suddenly stopped working.
The pointer is spinning like a windmill during a typhoon, relentlessly, showing no sign of stopping.
The " Nurmengard " text in the upper right corner has also disappeared.
There is only one explanation for this situation – it's broken.
Ugh, the more I think about it, the angrier I get.
Morris decided to spend one last morning.
If he still hasn't found Nurmengard, he'll go back, hang Mundungus Fletcher up, beat him up, and then make them refund his money.
That guy was definitely unreliable.
When doing business with him, you should always be prepared for the goods not to match the description.
Morris sighed, put away the parchment, and went up the stairs to the deck.
Although it was freezing cold outside and the bottle was covered with a thick layer of snow, it had the ability to automatically regulate the temperature inside, so you wouldn't feel cold standing on the deck.
He leaned against the side of the boat, leisurely looking around.
At least the scenery is decent.
"Get to work!"
Morris called out.
The Bone Dragon, which was perched on top of the bottle, shook its wings, shaking off the snow from its body.
It flew to the front, picked up the rope fixed to the bottle opening, and began to act as the power source for the Ship in a Bottle.
The surrounding scenery began to rush past.
With nothing else to do, Morris set up a cauldron on the deck and leisurely began brewing Potions.
He would occasionally keep some commonly used Potions on hand for emergencies.
This time, he brewed a Potions that could replenish energy; one sip would keep you energized all night.
I don't know how many mountains we've crossed.
As the sun rose higher and higher, suddenly, the Ship in a Bottle stopped.
Morris looked up.
Not far below, a solitary black stone tower stood.
It is surrounded by mountains and completely isolated from the world.
Morris took out the parchment and glanced at it.
The pointer stopped moving and steadily pointed in the direction of the stone tower.
"... and I actually found it." He muttered to himself.
To be honest, he didn't have any hope at all.
After all, finding a small prison in such a vast mountainous area is like finding a needle in a haystack.
You're lucky.
Morris whistled and steered the Ship in a Bottle to a slow descent.
A few minutes later, he stood at the gates of Nurmengard, surveying the somewhat eerie prison.
It was built of black stone, very tall, and had a spire-like shape. The windows were all sealed off, and the only wooden door was also tightly closed.
Above the gate, a line of words is prominently inscribed: For the For the Greater Good.
This is clearly some kind of slogan.
Strangely, there were no guards or prison officers around the prison, and not even any trace of human activity could be found.
It's as if this place has been abandoned.
Morris stepped forward and pushed the door open.
It remained completely still.
He tried several different opening spells, but none of them worked.
It seems that although there are no guards here, the most basic protective measures are still quite in place.
Morris smiled slightly.
" Shadow Concealment."
His body blended into the shadows, and he slipped through the crack in the door.
This trick never fails.