Regardless, Animagus is a very interesting form of magic.
For the next few days, Maurice's greatest pleasure was transforming into a bird and flying between the castle and the Forbidden Forest.
This is a completely different feeling from riding Bone Dragon or traveling in Ship in a Bottle.
The wind rustling through feathers, looking down at the ground from an unfamiliar perspective – these are all novel experiences.
However, the novelty eventually wore off, and Morris quickly turned his attention to other things.
For example, a flying broom.
After this period of hard work, the flying broom he has now created is maneuverable to a degree that satisfies him.
Although it's not as good as Firebolt, this broom has another irreplaceable advantage: speed.
If comfort is not a factor, its speed can reach up to twice that of Firebolt.
This data is enough to allow it to gain a share of the market.
It's a pity that he has to hand-rub each broom. Although it's not too difficult once you get the hang of it, the output is ultimately limited.
Morris carried his briefcase out of the castle, pondering the possibility of mass production as he walked towards the Quidditch Pitch.
He arranged to test brooms with the Weasley Twins.
Although the exams were approaching, Fred and George still accepted his invitation.
Both of them were very interested in the flying broom that was "twice as fast as Firebolt ".
As Quidditch players, they naturally knew what this meant.
Morris had also wanted to invite Harry, but Harry was engrossed in writing in the library, and he felt awkward about disturbing him.
Halfway there, a red-haired figure came into view.
Upon getting closer, he realized it wasn't Fred or George, but Ron.
Ron was talking to a strange woman.
The man was wearing an overly bright red robe, had very curly hair, and looked to be in his forties or fifties.
Morris was certain the other person was not from Hogwarts.
Invited by Dumbledore?
He took a few steps forward, and the sound of their conversation drifted into his ears.
" Ron," the woman said with a smile, "Did you really not know your pet was a criminal?"
Ron stood frozen in place. "I told you I don't want to talk about this, and I don't know you."
"Darling, it's just a casual chat," the woman took a step closer, her smile widening. "I've introduced myself before; I'm a journalist, and my job is to let the public know the truth. You know, the truth is what people need."
"Then let's change the subject. Do you know what happened to Peter now?"
"I don't want to know." Ron said this and hurried away, brushing past Morris without even saying hello.
Meanwhile, a book and a quill pen floated in front of the woman, automatically recording something.
After Ron escaped, the woman's gaze immediately fell on Morris was traveling in the same direction.
"Ah, you must be Morris Black?"
She walked up quickly, her tone deliberately friendly.
Morris paused for a moment, "Who are you?"
"Oh dear, I should introduce myself," the woman laughed, extending her hand to reveal a sparkling gemstone ring on her finger. " Rita Skeeter, a reporter for the Daily Prophet. You've surely heard of me, dear; I've written many sensational reports."
Morris looked at the hand but didn't shake it.
He does indeed see that name frequently in the Daily Prophet.
Moreover, it often appears in gossip news.
Rita didn't mind and naturally withdrew her hand. The green quill pen and notebook had already floated in front of her, hovering in mid-air, ready to be used.
"And then? What are you going to do?" Morris asked, frowning.
"A brief interview," Rita said. "I know you're the student who captured Sirius, though the Ministry of Magic hasn't explicitly stated it, I know."
"Is that so?" Morris didn't seem to care.
He didn't try to hide it.
You can find out immediately by simply asking any student.
"Let's begin the interview," Rita quickly composed herself, a professional smile plastered on her face. "The first question is, can you tell me how..." "I don't give interviews."
Morris politely interrupted her, then turned and left without hesitation.
He didn't have the time to chat idly with the other person.
Moreover, he didn't have a good impression of the reporter from the Daily Prophet.
Rita was stunned.
The green quill pen hung in mid-air, not having written a single word.
"Etc!"
She snapped out of her daze and quickly caught up with him.
Morris didn't even turn his head; he simply drew his wand and flicked it behind him.
An invisible barrier unfolded behind him.
Rita seemed to have bumped into a wall, letting out a startled cry and staggering back a few steps.
"Ouch!" She rubbed her forehead, her smile fading.
But Morris had already walked away, leaving her only with a faint silhouette.
"Okay, very good. Just wait."
Rita snorted coldly.
Her professional intuition told her that this student Morris Maurice Black was hiding a big secret.
Meanwhile, an owl with a ghostly blue flame burning in its eyes was perched on a nearby tree, silently watching him.
When Morris walked into the Quidditch Pitch, Fred and George were flying around happily.
Upon seeing him, the two immediately swooped down and landed steadily in front of him.
"It's really exhilarating to fly a few laps now and then." Fred jumped off his broom and remarked, "I actually miss Wood a bit now; we might not have the chance to play together again."
Morris casually asked, " Wood should be graduating this year, right?"
"Yes," Fred remarked, "I heard he's vying for the backup goalkeeper position at Puddlemere United."
Morris nodded and didn't ask any further questions.
After all, he knew absolutely nothing about Quidditch teams.
"Stop talking nonsense," George said. " Morris, where's the broom you asked us to test?"
Morris opened his briefcase and pulled out two identical brooms, handing them to the two men.
Fred took it and immediately examined it carefully.
The broom hasn't changed much in appearance, but it's lighter.
"Give it a try," Morris said. "If all goes well, this should be the final version that goes on sale."
Fred and George exchanged a glance, then simultaneously jumped onto their brooms, eager to try.
"It's much more comfortable than before," Fred commented.
"Set off."
George shouted, and the two of them instantly darted out, their speed still astonishing.
Morris looked up, watching two blurry figures rapidly traversing the air.
To be honest, it was better than he expected.
Sharp turns, dives, somersaults, and sudden stops—each movement was incredibly fluid, and the speed never decreased.
Fred and George flew for more than ten minutes before slowly landing in front of Morris.
Both of them had that excited blush on their faces.
"That's great, Morris," Fred said, sitting on the floor, panting.
The faster the broom goes, the more physical effort it takes to control it.
He clearly had a great time.
Morris smiled slightly. "That's good."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a flapping sound of wings came from overhead.
He looked up and saw the Yanhua swooping down and landing steadily on his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" Morris asked.
The Yanhua let out a soft cry.
Morris's expression was somewhat subtle.
"You mean, the reporter turned into a little bug?"