"Doesn't the Hogwarts Library look impressive?" Robert introduced it with a touch of pride. "Its collection is among the finest in the entire wizarding world. You can find copies or original records of many rare documents here that you can't find anywhere else."
"It really is wonderful," Morris answered honestly. "I think I'll like this place."
Robert smiled. "Every Ravenclaw likes it here... ah, are you looking for something in particular? If you have any questions, feel free to ask me."
"Thank you, but I'm just looking around."
Morris did not mention that he was searching for the recipe for the Draught of Living Death.
Revealing his interest in the recipe for a dangerous, regulated potion would be asking for trouble-even if he had a very good impression of Robert, and Robert quite likely knew about the Draught of Living Death.
His gaze fell on the iron gate to one side. "Is that the Restricted Section?"
When Robert had come out earlier, the iron gate had locked automatically.
"That's right," Robert answered.
Morris paused, then asked, "What should I do if I want to look something up in the Restricted Section?"
Robert gave him a surprised look. "You only need to ask a professor for permission. As long as you have a legitimate reason, I don't think most professors would refuse. I'd recommend Professor Flitwick. He's our Head of House."
"What if I don't have a legitimate reason?" Morris asked, as though in passing.
Robert chuckled twice and lowered his voice. "You can come at night. The lock here isn't enchanted, so all you need is an Unlocking Charm to get in. Also, try to come after midnight. Filch rarely keeps patrolling that late..."
Morris looked at him with some surprise.
Their Prefect seemed very familiar with the process of sneaking into the Restricted Section.
He was even sharing his experience with him.
"Don't look at me like that, Morris." Robert shrugged. "I've never sneaked in here. I have a professor's permission slip."
Morris understood without anything more being said.
Just then, Madam Pince approached from a distance and said to Robert, "Mr. Hilliard, have you found the books you wanted to borrow?"
"Yes, madam."
"Then come over here to check them out."
Before following Madam Pince away, Robert winked at Morris and said lightly, "Well then, Morris, I hope I won't hear that you've lost points for wandering around the library at night. Goodbye."
Watching him leave, Morris understood that Robert was giving him a reminder.
He had also realized something else.
Robert Hilliard was not someone who followed the rules very closely.
Just like him.
"An interesting person."
Morris gathered his thoughts and turned toward the bookshelves.
Over the following week, Morris spent almost all his time outside classes in the library.
Of course, he was in no hurry to find the recipe for the Draught of Living Death.
While leisurely working toward his goal, he also read many books on other subjects.
The Hogwarts Library had books on almost everything, covering virtually every field, including even some newly published essay and poetry collections by wizarding authors.
As Morris had said before, he liked reading books.
Perhaps this place was paradise for him.
He soon became immersed in it.
Under these circumstances, his progress on finding the recipe for the Draught of Living Death was naturally slow.
Besides that, he also visited Hagrid that week to ask about the follow-up to the incident with the centaurs.
According to Hagrid, the centaurs were very sorry about what had happened to him and hoped to apologize in person.
But Morris rejected the proposal. He now had not the slightest fondness for centaurs and even thought it was a trap.
He also asked about the condition of the centaur named Bane and heard that it had taken him a week to recover from the injuries Morris had inflicted on him.
On that point, Morris could only say that he had deserved it.
Mid-September, Saturday, midnight.
Morris had been meditating in his dormitory for three hours.
"It's about time."
He changed into dark casual clothes, carefully tucked his wand at his waist, and slipped silently out of the dormitory.
The moonlight was cold and clear, casting silvery patches across the floor through the windows.
The common room was silent and empty, with only the faint sounds of wind and hooting owls coming from outside the windows.
He was heading to the library's Restricted Section.
There, he might find material about the Draught of Living Death or ways to feign death.
He had been curious about that place for a long time, and now was a good time to go.
That was because he could now proficiently use Shadow Concealment without chanting.
Even if something unexpected happened, such as running straight into Filch, he could easily escape-unless Filch could also sink into the darkness as he could.
Coupled with his knowledge of the castle's nighttime patrol patterns gained over the past week, he felt very confident.
Leaving the common room, Morris avoided the main staircase with its dense concentration of portraits and followed a little-used corridor along the castle's north wing, successfully making his way around to the library entrance.
The library was silent and deserted. He walked straight to the iron gate of the Restricted Section.
Looking at the lock on the gate, he suddenly realized something important.
Although Robert had said that an Unlocking Charm was all it took to open it-
He did not know the Unlocking Charm.
Fortunately, he had another way to solve this problem.
"Shadow Concealment."
As the spell took effect, a layer of flowing blackness enveloped Morris, and he instantly distorted and vanished from the spot.
When he reappeared, he was already inside the Restricted Section.
"Phew-"
Morris let out a breath.
Moving through shadows was extremely physically draining. If he had to describe the feeling, it was like moving underwater with someone on his back.
Fortunately, nothing unexpected had happened.
Now, then, it was time to get to work.
As he ventured deeper into the Restricted Section, Morris discovered a narrow staircase leading down.
The Restricted Section had a basement too?
He immediately chose to go down the stairs.
The staircase was not long, with only a dozen or so steps.
Below was a fairly small room, furnished much like the floor above, with towering bookshelves and heavy wooden tables. It simply looked older, and an even stronger smell of musty parchment hung in the air.
None of that, however, was the point.
The point was-
Someone was in there!
It was a tall, thin old man leaning against the wall, with a scar on his neck and disheveled gray hair. There was dirt on his robes, and he held an open book in his hands.
Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze.
"Um..." Morris steadied his breathing and put on a casual air as he spoke. "Good evening. I didn't know anyone was here. Goodbye."
With that, he took half a step back as though nothing had happened and immediately prepared to turn and leave.
Right, let's just pretend I was never here.
I'm out of here.
Unfortunately, the old man had no intention of letting him go.
"Wait!"
Morris felt a piercing gaze pin his back.