The two chatted about flying brooms as they walked into the History of Magic classroom.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward and tapped the blackboard.
Soon, Professor Binns floated out from behind the blackboard.
The ghost professor looked no different from usual, with a semi-transparent body and a slightly blank expression, as if he might spout a boring passage from a History of Magic textbook at any moment.
But upon seeing the person who had arrived, his eyes suddenly brightened.
"Hello, Professor Binns, I'm sorry to bother you," Morris said.
Professor Binns smiled and asked, " Morris, is there something you need from me?"
Professor McGonagall's face showed a hint of surprise upon seeing this.
She had clearly noticed Professor Binns ' unusual behavior today.
Morris didn't waste any words.
"Then I'll get straight to the point. Professor Binns, do you have a solution to this?"
He raised his hand and brushed away the white bone mask from his face, revealing eerie black patterns underneath.
"Ah!
Professor Binns immediately stopped smiling, floated up to Morris, almost touching his face, and began to observe him with a serious expression.
Professor McGonagall also frowned.
The distorted black patterns instinctively made her uneasy.
She asked nervously, "What's that on your face, Morris?"
"Some kind of curse," Morris replied, "That's why I've come to see Professor Binns."
He felt that this elderly, ghostly professor might know something.
"A curse?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed in shock. "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Morris, however, spoke calmly, "Just two days ago. I couldn't do anything about it myself."
Professor Binns stared for nearly half a minute before slowly backing away, his expression still grave.
He asked in a low voice, "How did you get involved with this?"
After thinking for a Morris replied, "I met a man a couple of days ago. He called himself Death and we fought. This curse must have been left behind then."
" Death..." Professor Binns muttered to himself, "This is indeed a difficult situation."
Professor McGonagall was somewhat bewildered.
"Wait," she raised her hand to interrupt their conversation, " Morris, who is this Death you're talking about?"
"I don't know," Morris shrugged. "To me, he was just an unreasonable wizard, only with high magical power."
Professor McGonagall's expression immediately turned strange.
A wizard who calls himself the Death?
She even got into a fight with her student?
This story sounds completely fabricated, if Morris didn't have that black mark on his face.
"The identities of Death and Wizard are not contradictory," Professor Binns nodded, his tone becoming serious. " Morris, you've probably encountered the real Death. If I'm not mistaken, the curse on your face contains the aura of death, the unique power of Death."
ah?
It wasn't a fake?
Isn't the Death's prestige a bit too low?
In Morris's understanding, shouldn't Death be a god who governs death and can easily decide a person's life or death?
He and Professor McGonagall looked at Professor Binns almost simultaneously, their expressions identically puzzled.
Morris asked, "Then how do I get rid of it?"
He touched his face and explained, "This thing is draining my life force. If I leave it alone, I estimate I can only live for about five years."
"Five years!?" Professor McGonagall's face turned deathly pale. " Morris, you—"
She suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
What should she say at this moment?
"Don't be nervous, Professor," Morris reassured him. "I have plenty of time to resolve this."
Professor McGonagall managed to calm herself down.
As a professor at Hogwarts, he had encountered many cases of student injuries, but this one was exceptionally serious.
Regardless of whether the Death is real or not, this curse is the most deadly thing right now.
"I know several wizards who specialize in curses," she said eagerly. "They've all dealt with many complex Dark Magic curses. I can write to them right away."
"I'm afraid it will be of little use, McGonagall." Professor Binns gently shook his head, interrupting her. "As I understand it, to break this curse, one must rely on a force with the opposite properties—rebirth, creation, continuation, and hope."
Morris seemed thoughtful. "So I need to find a power that meets certain conditions to counteract this curse?"
"That's the theory," Professor Binns said.
"Understood."
Morris immediately felt a headache coming on.
Although we have some clues, the direction is still too vague.
"Perhaps you could ask the principal," Professor Binns added.
Dumbledore?
Morris had originally intended to seek help if Professor Binns was unable to help.
Professor McGonagall cautioned, "The headmaster is not at school right now. The International Confederation of Wizards held an emergency meeting, and he just left yesterday. He won't be back for another week."
So Morris stayed at Hogwarts for the time being.
Hogwarts Castle was very empty during the summer vacation, with no students and professors only appearing occasionally.
However, the House-elf, who are not usually seen, have started to roam around the castle during the holidays.
They were busy wiping armor, mopping floors, and cleaning portraits.
During this time, Morris practically lived in the library, searching for information about Death and curses.
The harvest was meager.
There was no sign that the curse was getting worse or disappearing.
Finally, one day, Dumbledore returned.
Morris received the news in the afternoon.
Professor McGonagall sent her Patronus to inform him; it was a silver tabby cat.
" Headmaster's Office, now. The spell is Acid Pops."
Morris walked down the empty corridor, recited the command, climbed the spiral staircase, and pushed open the office door.
Dumbledore was resting in a chair, unusually dressed in a black robe—something that seemed out of character for him.
"Hello, Professor," Morris said.
Dumbledore slowly stood up, looking somewhat tired.
He walked up to Morris and said gently, " Professor McGonagall has already told me what happened. You don't seem to have had a very pleasant summer."
"No," Morris shrugged, "It's actually not bad, except for a little accident... uh, a big accident."
"Optimism is a good thing," Dumbledore a smile. "Let me see that thing."
Morris raised his hand and removed the bone mask from his face—he had been wearing it for the past few days.
Upon seeing the black pattern, Dumbledore's smile vanished, and his face tightened.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, " Morris, who exactly are you dueling with? Is it really Death?"
Professor McGonagall had clearly relayed everything she had heard to him.
Morris remained steadfast in his judgment.
"Perhaps," he said, "But I still believe he was just a powerful wizard, not the Death."