"Oh, right," Kyle suddenly remembered something and asked, "Can you dance, Morris?"
"That shouldn't be a problem," Morris said.
"Really?" Kyle's eyes widened immediately. "When did you learn that?"
"Around first grade," Morris said seriously, "I learned the Manticore Mating Dance."
Manticore Mating Dance?
Kyle froze for a moment, "What is that?"
How come he's never heard of it?
"Imitating the Manticore's movements helps keep Manticore calm," Morris explained. "I learned it from a book by Newt Scamander. If you've looked closely, you'll know he wrote our ' Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Them'."
Kyle knew immediately that this was no serious matter.
He asked doubtfully, "You're going to dance this at the ball? That must be amazing."
"Do you think that's possible?" Morris gave him a strange look. "I just think all dances are interconnected."
Kyle sighed. "Only you would learn such strange things."
"That's not necessarily true," a voice interjected from the side, "I can also dance the Manticore Mating Dance."
The two turned around and found Padma Patil, an Indian witch, who was in the same grade as them.
Padma smiled sweetly at Morris, then turned and walked down the stairs.
Upon hearing this, Kyle fell into deep thought.
Is the Manticore Mating Dance actually quite popular?
Should he go and learn it too?
The news that a dance would be held for Christmas spread quickly throughout the entire school.
In the days that followed, a restless atmosphere permeated Hogwarts Castle.
A few days later, at noon, Morris was stopped again by two Gryffindor girls as he passed through the courtyard.
Without a doubt, they were there to invite him to the ball.
This has happened countless times in the last two days.
Morris naturally refused again—for the same reason as before: he wasn't familiar with the two men.
After receiving a reply, the two girls left disappointed.
Immediately afterwards, Morris ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron strode up, his face full of curiosity. "Did they just come to invite you to the ball?"
"Hmm." Morris nodded.
Just as I expected.
After receiving confirmation, Ron suddenly sighed, his voice filled with melancholy. "I wish I were you, Morris."
Morris asked, somewhat puzzled, "What's wrong?"
"He's jealous of you," Hermione pointed out sharply, "Because you're so popular."
Morris immediately understood— Ron was worried about finding a dance partner.
" Harry and I still don't know who to invite," Ron said dejectedly, glancing at Harry beside him. "I think Harry doesn't need to worry, just like you."
However, Harry seemed to be lost in thought, staring blankly at a tree in the courtyard, completely ignoring him.
"What are you thinking about?" Ron nudged him with his elbow.
Harry immediately snapped out of his daze and said nervously, "It's nothing."
His ears seemed a little red.
Looking at Ron's anxious face, Morris said earnestly, " Ron, what you need is confidence."
In his opinion, Ron wasn't a bad student... just average.
Ron was stunned for a moment. "What?"
Morris patted him on the shoulder and repeated, "What you need is confidence. Finding a dance partner shouldn't be difficult for you."
Ron pursed his lips.
It's easy to talk when you're not the one experiencing it.
If he looked like Morris, he could be just as confident.
Sigh, there's nothing I can do.
This unfair world.
" Morris is right," Hermione agreed.
"If you don't mind," Morris stroked his chin and said to Ron, "I can have my skeleton dance with you."
Skull?
Ron imagined the scene and shuddered. "Let's forget about it."
The dance isn't on Halloween.
If possible, he still wants to be with living people.
Morris chuckled and said, "I was just joking."
"Oh no! Class is about to start!" Hermione exclaimed.
The three said their goodbyes in haste and soon left.
Morris didn't go to class. He went into the courtyard, sat down by a tree, and took a crystal ball out of his pocket.
The crystal ball displayed the scene inside the Potions ingredient warehouse.
Naturally, there was nothing unusual.
Although Snape asked him to find the killer, he probably thought it was hopeless.
After all, he couldn't keep an eye on what was happening inside the crystal ball all the time.
Meow~
The meowing came from above. Morris instinctively looked up and saw a black cat fall from above, landing right in his arms.
Isn't this Guantou?
Morris, holding his pet cat, had a sudden inspiration and slipped the crystal ball into its lap.
"Here you go." He said, "I have a task for you: keep an eye on the screen inside. If you see anything unusual, come and tell me immediately. Understand?"
"Meow!"
The Guantou stood up and raised its front paws in a salute.
It was overjoyed to receive its owner's command after so long.
Morris patted its head.
However, after picking up the crystal Guantou, perhaps due to its feline nature, the cat immediately started playing with it like a ball of yarn.
Morris simply shrugged at the sight.
Oh well, let it be. As long as I can keep an eye on what's happening inside the crystal ball, that's enough.
He put his hands behind his head, leaned against a tree, and squinted, enjoying the rare tranquility of the afternoon. Although it was winter, the sunlight was unusually warm today.
Such weather is rare; in a few more days, this place will probably be covered in a thick blanket of snow.
"Aren't you going to class?"
A voice came from the side, and Morris looked up to see Phoebe.
She wore a light blue robe, and her silvery-white hair Winky in the sunlight.
"Yeah, I skipped class." After saying that, Morris leaned against a tree and continued to rest.
But Phoebe had no intention of ending the conversation there.
She sat down very naturally next to Morris, her long hair falling to the ground, but she didn't seem to care.
"Won't the professor punish you?" Phoebe asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
"No," Morris said calmly.
Meanwhile, his owl Yanhua landed on a branch and stared motionless at Phoebe.
Phoebe noticed Yanhua's gaze. She looked up and, upon seeing the soul fire in Yanhua's eyes, was clearly stunned for a moment.
"What is that?" she asked, a hint of unease in her voice.
"My owl," Morris said succinctly. "is a rather unusual breed."
Whenever someone asks his owl why its eyes are on fire, this is his answer.
Phoebe believed her, stopped paying attention to the owl, and looked back at Morris.
Morris shifted his position and asked, "So what do you want from me?"