In the darkness of night.
"Knock knock knock!"
Morris knocked on Snape's office door.
"Come in."
An impatient reply came from behind the door.
Morris immediately pushed open the door and entered without hesitation.
Snape was sitting behind his desk, with a cauldron in front of him bubbling away, and the air filled with the scent of herbs.
He looked up and said coldly, "It's eight o'clock in the evening, Mr. Black. Give me a reason why you're here during curfew."
"In fact, the curfew is at nine o'clock," Morris said clearly and quickly. "Professor, I have a question. Is the Draught of Living Death an incomplete Potions?"
Snape was taken aback, then laughed in exasperation. "You came all this way at this hour just to ask me one question?"
"Yes."
Morris nodded seriously.
There was absolutely no joking about it.
But then he realized something and gave an apologetic smile. "Ah, I was in a bit of a rush. If it's inconvenient for you, I can come tomorrow morning."
Indeed, professors also need rest.
It was indeed rather impolite of him to disturb them at this time.
"No need."
Snape sighed helplessly, scrutinizing Morris as if he were examining some rare Fantastic Beasts. "Whether he's crippled or not is not a concern for a first-year student. This formula has been tested for hundreds of years, Mr. Black. Its effects are stable, reliable, and controllable—qualities more than sufficient for most mediocre minds..."
"But I'm right, aren't I?" Morris interrupted him, his tone certain, "It's incomplete!"
A brief silence fell over the office.
"Yes."
Snape's answer was brief and direct.
"So what's missing?" Morris pressed eagerly.
Sure enough, his Potions Class professor shared the same idea.
They may have already conducted relevant research and know about the missing final material.
Snape did not answer immediately.
He got up from his desk and walked slowly toward the row of tall cabinets against the wall.
When he turned around again, he was holding a narrow-necked glass bottle containing grayish-white powder.
He didn't hand the bottle to Morris; he simply placed it on the table between them.
Morris's gaze was fixed on the grayish-white powder. "This is the missing material? What is it?"
Ashes.
Snape answered calmly, without saying anything more.
Morris remained silent for a short while.
"Human?" he asked.
"Can't accept it?" Snape gave a mocking sneer, explaining, "The final ingredient in the Draught of Living Death —the ashes of those who died with hope for life."
"Oh, it's not that I can't accept it," Morris said with unexpected calm. "I just didn't expect it. So... what should I do? Add it when I'm brewing the Draught of Living Death?"
To be honest, he was genuinely startled by this final piece of information.
But for wizards, using ashes as an ingredient in Potions is probably normal... right?
Yes, that's normal (trying to convince myself).
"Just add it to the finished product of the Draught of Living Death." Snape's voice remained largely flat.
"But after that, the Draught of Living Death was no longer Potions allowed people to sleep peacefully."
"It becomes a ' Death Experience Potion,' in which the user will consciously experience the complete process of loss of consciousness, diminished perception, and the gradual erosion of their self-existence."
" The Death Experience Potion..." Morris repeated, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement, "This is exactly what I wanted!"
Snape's expression froze.
He slowly stood up and said grimly, " Mr. Black, you seem to have completely misunderstood me. This is not a fun adventure, nor is it one of your childish magical experiments..."
"Ah, I know."
Morris looked up, his face displaying a fervor Snape had never seen before.
"But don't you think... being able to experience death is an amazing thing?"
"A person only has one chance to die in their life, but this Potions allows you to experience much more."
"Unparalleled... what a romantic thing!"
Snape was speechless for a moment.
How exactly does this student's thought process work?
It's such a waste of such Potions; it's unbelievable that he has mental problems.
But it doesn't matter anymore, let it be.
He had also personally tried this Death Experience Potion.
There were no particularly serious physiological effects as a result; the only side effect was probably several days of insomnia.
That terrifying experience of death... he really didn't want to go through it a second time.
But perhaps, allowing students to experience the dangers of Potions firsthand, thereby instilling in them a sense of awe for the Potions, is also one of his responsibilities as a professor.
Seeing that Snape hadn't moved for a long time, Morris tentatively asked, "Um... Professor, may I take these ashes?"
"Alright," Snape said calmly. "A standard dose of the Draught of Living Death requires only seven milligrams of bone ash. Remember to measure it with a balance, not with your self-righteous eyes."
"Thank you."
Morris carefully tucked the small bottle into the innermost part of his pocket and placed it close to his body.
Snape didn't say anything more, he just waved his hand, indicating that he could leave.
Morris bowed slightly again, then turned and walked towards the door.
The professors at Hogwarts seem to be quite tolerant.
Upon reflection, he himself realized that his behavior was somewhat inappropriate.
Late at night, I suddenly went to disturb the professor's rest because of a guess.
They even took away the other person's ashes.
Back in his dorm, Morris carefully locked the door and took out the scales from a box in the corner.
The scales of the Wizarding World are incredibly magical and remarkably accurate.
It is not difficult to accurately separate seven milligrams of bone ash.
When he added the ashes to the bottle of the Draught of Living Death, the Draught of Living Death slowly turned into a chaotic gray color.
" Guantou, don't bother me anymore," Morris instructed the undead cat that had appeared out of nowhere.
Meow~
The Guantou nodded obediently.
Morris patted his silly cat's head and sat down in the center of the magic hall.
Then, he drank the bottle of laced " Draught of Living Death" in one gulp.
Almost instantly, he fell backward, his consciousness being dragged into boundless darkness.
warmth.
It felt like being wrapped in a soft, plush blanket.
After an unknown amount of time, Morris opened his eyes.
A thin white mist surrounded him, enveloping him completely.
Where... is this place?
He propped himself up and looked around.
As dusk settled, the surroundings remained the familiar scene of his dormitory, unchanged.
The difference is that the magic circle on the ground has disappeared.
Is this a failure?
" Guantou?" he called out instinctively, his voice echoing in the room.
There was no response.
Morris stood up, feeling a slight dizziness, somewhat like the aftereffects of Apparition.
After the dizziness subsided, he looked at the clock on the wall, wanting to check the time.
Strangely, the clock was stopped.
The hands stopped at 9:40:52.
Morris narrowed his eyes.
He couldn't believe that his clock would break down at that exact moment.