Morris immediately told Harry his idea.
"Sincerity?" Harry froze. "You mean... I should go straight to Snape and say-Professor, why do you hate me?"
Just imagining that scene sent a chill down Harry's back.
How would Snape react?
With even colder mockery?
By taking fifty points from Gryffindor?
Or by fixing him with a stare that could freeze someone solid, then spitting out something even nastier?
"Don't let Morris fool you," Ron reminded him quietly from beside him. "This sounds like he's pulling your leg."
Harry nodded.
He agreed with Ron.
Seeing this, Morris shook his head with some regret. "What a shame. If it were me, I'd ask him to his face and get things straight."
He was not lying. If a professor made their dislike of him obvious, he would immediately go and ask why.
If there was a misunderstanding, he would clear it up as soon as possible. If there was no misunderstanding, he would still find a way to resolve it. That was how he did things.
But since Harry was unwilling, there was nothing he could do.
After all, everyone had a different personality.
He could hardly force someone else.
After they chatted a little longer, it was just about noon.
"See you in the library this afternoon," Ron reminded him before leaving. "Remember to bring your Potions homework."
"Thanks for your homework," Harry added.
"You're welcome." Morris waved and watched them disappear around the corner of the corridor.
Now he planned to go back to the dormitory and practice magic for a while.
Just as he was about to turn and leave-
"Meow~"
Guantou, who had jumped onto his shoulder, prodded his cheek with a paw.
"What is it?" Morris asked, turning his head.
Guantou pointed at the stone beast statue beside him.
It was a statue roughly as tall and imposing as Hagrid, standing silently beside the corridor.
"Is there something over there?"
Understanding what Guantou meant, Morris immediately walked around behind the statue.
In the shadows, a tall, thin figure in black was leaning there quietly, arms folded and eyes closed, seemingly resting his eyes.
It was none other than the person they had just been discussing.
Professor Snape.
Morris stopped short.
He did not know when Snape had appeared there.
But he had most likely heard every word of their conversation.
Just as he was debating whether to slip away quietly or say hello-he was a professor, after all-Snape opened his eyes and fixed his gaze squarely on him.
"Hello, Professor."
Morris nodded politely in greeting.
He had no intention of lingering and immediately prepared to turn and leave.
"Stop, Mr. Black," Snape said, his voice calm, betraying neither pleasure nor anger.
"Is there something you need?" Morris asked directly, his manner open.
Unlike Harry, he was not particularly afraid of Snape.
Besides, he had not said anything inappropriate just now.
A few students discussing their professor in private-in his view, that was perfectly normal.
If a professor got angry over such a trivial matter, that would be far too petty.
Snape stared at Morris, his gaze as sharp as a knife.
"I heard you quite clearly," he began slowly, pacing a small step forward, the shadows shifting with him. "You said you were going to lend your homework to your classmates? Ah, how very generous of you, Mr. Black."
"You misheard, Professor," Morris replied without a change in expression.
He had completely forgotten about that.
The man was a professor. Conducting nefarious homework transactions in front of a professor was clearly not very wise.
"I am quite certain there is nothing wrong with my hearing." Snape raised his eyebrows and said coldly, "Ten points from Ravenclaw."
"Can I put up a little resistance?"
"No." Snape sneered. "Let me remind you that if Mr. Potter's and Mr. Weasley's homework matches yours, they will each earn Gryffindor a twenty-point deduction."
"I understand, Professor."
Morris sighed.
It seemed he would not be able to help Harry and Ron with their homework.
At least not in Potions class.
"Very wise."
Snape nodded in satisfaction.
Then he saw Morris take a rather ordinary-looking notebook and a quill out of his pocket.
"What are you doing?"
This abrupt action left him somewhat puzzled.
Morris opened the notebook, his expression serious. "Professor, I happen to have a few questions about Potions. Since you took the initiative to speak to me, I thought I might ask you while I was here."
Snape's eyebrows rose high, and he suddenly found the whole thing rather absurd.
This student had just lost ten House Points and been threatened by him, yet he had actually taken out a notebook in all seriousness and said he wanted to ask questions about potions?
Was he simply thick-skinned, or was this some way of changing the subject?
Incidentally, he remembered the name "Morris Black."
In his Potions classes, Morris always completed every exercise perfectly.
He had even awarded Ravenclaw quite a few points for it.
Of course, he had already confirmed that Morris was not a member of the "Black" family he had in mind.
"Mr. Black," Snape asked coldly, "do you think this is an appropriate time to discuss academic matters?"
Morris blinked. "Is it not?"
Snape gave a cold snort without answering.
His attitude spoke for itself.
"All right." Morris closed the notebook with a trace of regret.
He had thought all the professors at Hogwarts were happy to answer students' questions.
Now it seemed that was not the case.
Perhaps Snape's standing in his eyes would have to drop a notch.
Besides, this was no joke. He really had accumulated quite a few questions about potions-the deeper he delved into the subject, the more questions arose.
There was nothing for it. He would have to trouble the older Ravenclaw boys and girls he knew later.
"Goodbye, then, Professor Snape." Morris turned to leave.
"Wait!"
Morris looked back to find Snape watching him expressionlessly.
"If you really have questions to ask," he said, "ask them now."
Morris blinked, somewhat surprised by this sudden permission.
It seemed his impression had been right-this professor named Snape did not treat students badly.
He simply had a rather odd temper and was especially strict with Harry Potter.
"Thank you, Professor."
Morris happily opened the notebook in his hands. "I don't have many questions. First, about the role of porcupine quills in softening agents... then there's the question of the properties of fig peel... and..."
He asked several questions in succession, forcing Snape to interrupt.
"Let me see your notebook."
Snape's voice cut abruptly into Morris's questions.
Morris obediently handed over the notebook, with no trace of guilt or hesitation on his face.
"..."
Snape silently leafed through the notebook.
Gradually, a look of surprise he could not conceal appeared on his face.
The questions in the notebook were numerous and varied, and most were simple ones.
But that was not the point.
The point was-even he could feel the writer's enthusiasm for Potions between the lines.
This boy truly took Potions seriously!
After all, Morris had only been at Hogwarts for a little over a month.
In other words, he had only been studying Potions for a single short month.
Such enthusiasm was exceedingly rare, even in his long teaching career.
It was just like... his own, all those years ago.