The three of them headed towards the Great Hall.
As he moved forward, Morris smelled that same stench he had detected earlier on the stairs.
Moreover, it's getting stronger and stronger.
The stench reached its peak just as I was about to pass by the first-floor restroom.
Fred instinctively covered his nose. "I said, what's going on with this toilet? Did it explode?"
"No," Morris shook his head, "There's someone talking inside."
Fred and George immediately quieted down upon hearing this, and then moved a little closer to the bathroom.
Indeed, they could vaguely hear a conversation inside, and combined with that smell...
Something's not right.
The twins' eyes lit up; they were immediately intrigued.
However, because the toilet door was closed, they couldn't hear what was being said.
Even if they're stuck to the wall, it won't work.
"Let me remind you," Morris said calmly, "This is the women's restroom. What you two are doing is dangerous."
Fred and George immediately jumped back from the wall as if they had been burned, looking somewhat embarrassed.
Indeed, this is quite out of character for gentlemen.
"Click!"
Suddenly, the doorknob of the bathroom turned.
The three of them instantly stood against the wall, holding their breath and trying their best to conceal their presence.
A girl rushed out—it was Hermione, one of Morris's acquaintances.
She immediately left the scene in a hurry.
Immediately afterward, before Morris and the other two could relax, two more figures emerged from within.
This time it was Ron and Harry, who, like Hermione, quickly left the scene, forgetting to even close the door.
They didn't even glance in the direction of Morris and his companions.
"Something seems to be going on," Fred said, his eyes lighting up. "I'll go check it out."
What a curious fellow!
Morris wanted to persuade him to use a Disillusionment Charm, but Fred had already put his head close to the open bathroom door, peering curiously inside.
Then...
" Mr. Weasley! What are you doing here!?"
A furious roar came from inside the washroom.
Fred froze on the spot.
Morris recognized the tone and voice all too well; it belonged to Professor McGonagall.
George reacted incredibly quickly; the instant Professor McGonagall's voice rang out, he grabbed Morris's arm, yelling, "Run!"
Fred is beyond saving, but the two of them can still be saved.
The two of them quickly left the scene.
As long as you don't get caught, you'll be fine.
When they returned to the Great Hall entrance, panting, they found it empty; there was no one there.
"The students have all gone back to the lounge," Morris remarked.
Then, he gave George a strange look. "Are we really okay just leaving Fred like this?"
"It's alright," George said matter-of-factly, without a trace of remorse in his voice, "It's his own fault for not being careful enough."
What a good younger brother, Morris thought.
So the two of them went back to the lounge; there was no point in wandering around outside any longer.
As for Fred —I hope he's doing well.
Back in the lounge, the Prefect was counting heads.
Morris mingled at the back of the group, and no one noticed his disappearance.
After counting everyone, he subtly learned from several senior students what had happened that night.
Halfway through the banquet, their Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Quirrell, suddenly burst in, announcing that Troll had escaped from the underground classroom, and then fainted on the spot.
Headmaster Dumbledore had no choice but to order all students to immediately return to their respective house common rooms to prevent any injury.
Morris felt that Professor Quirrell was overreacting.
He had learned about Troll from books.
It was a large, not very intelligent, humanoid monster.
A mature wizard familiar with spells would be more than capable of handling it.
So, the smell they detected in the bathroom must have been the smell of the Troll.
However, it has nothing to do with him.
The only advantage was that, because the banquet ended midway, some of the food was sent to the lounge.
Morris was lucky enough to get a still-warm steak, which finally soothed his empty stomach.
The next day, Morris heard that Professor McGonagall had deducted five points from Fred's score.
Fortunately, he was not required to engage in "labor reflection".
This was just a minor, insignificant punishment.
During the morning's History of Magic class, Morris was studying the methods and key points of brewing the Draught of Living Death in "Advanced Potion-Making," simulating it countless times in his mind, and didn't listen to the lecture at all.
The Draught of Living Death is a very complex Potions, and he only has two chances.
If he fails twice, he will have to find another way to collect raw materials.
This is clearly not the situation he wanted to see.
Going to the Potions ingredient warehouse to steal materials again isn't really the best option.
Therefore, he had to mentally rehearse every detail and every step repeatedly until he knew them by heart.
Fortunately, Professor Binns had no intention of paying attention to the students and just continued lecturing on the podium, while most of the other students looked drowsy.
Finally, the History of Magic class ended.
Morris immediately returned to his dormitory.
The crucible has been set up, and all preparations are complete.
It's time to begin.
The cooking method sounds simple; you just need to put the raw materials into the crucible in order and cook them.
However, there are strict requirements regarding the method of adding materials, the timing, and even the direction of stirring with the wand during this process.
Morris dared not be distracted for even a moment.
The good news is that the brewing time for the Draught of Living Death is not long, only a few hours—some Potions take days or even months to brew.
Prepare the ingredients, turn on the heat, add the Infusion of Wormwood, add the Sopophorous Bean, stir, stir in a different direction...
Morris seemed to have fallen into some kind of strange state of concentration.
Everything around seemed to be isolated by a transparent film.
In his world, only the bubbling crucible before him remained.
After an unknown amount of time, with the final stirring, the solution in the pot turned a pale blue color.
It's done.
Morris stretched his stiff neck, then carefully poured the medicine into a pre-prepared crystal bottle.
One batch of ingredients can only yield a small amount of finished product, just enough to fill five small crystal bottles.
After everything was finished, he let out a soft breath.
Only then did he feel a slight fatigue from the intense concentration he had been experiencing.
But more than anything, it's a sense of satisfaction.
Potions —what a fascinating field of study!
"It's getting late."
Morris turned to look at the clock on the wall.
Forget lunch, he's almost late for the first class in the afternoon.
Moreover, it was Potions Class.
Morris didn't have time to pack up and immediately got up and went to the classroom.
It seems he can only attempt the " Gate of Two Realms " later that night.