That afternoon, Professor McGonagall dropped Morris off at the orphanage gates, then hurried away-apparently, she still had a great deal of work to finish.
Morris had bought everything except a pet.
Hogwarts allowed students to bring pets such as owls, cats, or toads.
But Morris already had Canned Food, so he had no need to spend any extra money.
Seen that way, Canned Food did have some use.
At least he had saved Morris some money.
When Morris wheeled in the suitcase the general store had given him, he found Harold pacing back and forth in the sitting room.
He looked deeply uneasy.
"Mr. Green?" Morris greeted him out of politeness.
Harold looked up, glanced behind Morris, and asked rather nervously, "Where is that Professor McGonagall?"
"She's already left," Morris replied.
Only then did Harold breathe a sigh of relief.
Morris wheeled his suitcase over to the sofa, intending to rest for a while.
He had been dragging these things all around Diagon Alley.
Although the suitcase, which had some sort of magic cast on it, was not heavy, he was only eleven, after all, and disliked exercise, so naturally he was not very fit.
Looking at Morris's suitcase, Harold asked curiously, "What's inside?"
"Things for school," Morris said casually as he sat on the sofa. "Bought them in Diagon Alley. Books, clothes, and some odds and ends."
"May I have a look?"
Harold moved closer in curiosity, and Morris could smell the tobacco on him.
"Um, sure." Morris hesitated for a moment, but remembering that the man was, in a sense, his guardian, he nodded.
He pressed the brass clasp on the side, and the lid sprang open with a click.
Harold bent down to look.
Several black robes, a stack of books, and all sorts of peculiar objects were neatly arranged inside the suitcase.
Most eye-catching of all was the wand on top, its dark wood marked with mysterious patterns.
He still remembered that Professor McGonagall had used a similar little wooden stick to perform magic.
"These are all..." Harold's voice was rather dry. "Magical objects?"
"I suppose so," Morris answered calmly. "They're all things Hogwarts required me to get. I don't know what they're used for either."
Harold reached out to touch the wand, only to stop halfway.
Wait! Wouldn't it be better not to touch these wizards' things?
Watching the man before him look both curious and afraid, Morris could not help finding it rather funny.
"You can pick it up and have a look, Mr. Green. This is my wand," he said. "But please be careful."
Only then did Harold gingerly pick up the wand.
It felt lighter in his hand than he had imagined.
He raised it before his eyes and examined it closely. "Can it really perform magic?"
"It takes a suitable wizard to perform magic," Morris reminded him. "In an ordinary person's hands, it's no different from a regular wooden stick."
Harold clearly knew he was one of those ordinary people.
He handed the wand back to Morris, rubbed his hands together, and lowered his voice. "Then, Mr. Black, could you perform a spell? Just a tiny bit of magic, so I can see it with my own eyes?"
"I'm not sure I can manage it," Morris said honestly. "I haven't started school yet, after all."
"But I can try. Please don't move, Mr. Green."
At that, Harold immediately went rigid, even holding his breath.
He stared nervously at the wand in Morris's hand.
Yet Morris merely transferred the wand to his left hand, stretched out his right, and aimed his open palm at him.
In fact, Morris had no idea how to use a wand. The only magic he knew at present was the Weakening Curse.
And using the Weakening Curse required no tools.
Mr. Green before him had the good fortune to become his first test subject.
He had tried it on empty air hundreds of times before, succeeding only once.
But for some reason, his mind was especially clear this time.
Constructing the spell model went exceptionally smoothly as well.
This time, it would work!
"Ahem..." Harold could not help speaking up. "You're going to cast a spell on me?"
"Weakening Curse!"
Before he had finished speaking, an obscure incantation was already flowing from Morris's mouth.
A barely visible layer of gray mist rose from Morris's right palm.
Before Harold could even react, he felt a bone-chilling cold shoot straight up his spine.
Then his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the sofa behind him.
"What's happened to me..." Harold tried to get up, only to discover that even lifting his arms had become extraordinarily difficult.
He looked at Morris in horror. "What have you done to me?!"
"How does it feel?" Morris observed Harold's condition closely as he explained, "This spell makes you feel tired and weak."
Only then did Harold realize that he must have been affected by magic.
After carefully assessing his body, he felt a little reassured.
Just as Morris had said, his current condition was merely fatigue.
It felt like being drained dry after a whole night of wild partying.
So this was magic?
It really was a power science couldn't explain.
"But I noticed you didn't use your wand..." Harold let out a breath. "Oh, never mind. That's not important. Undo this spell first. I can't stand up."
"..."
Silence.
"What are you waiting for? Hurry up and put me back to normal!" Harold urged, a bad feeling coming over him.
Morris awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, an embarrassed expression appearing on his face for the first time. "Well... actually, I haven't learned how to undo this spell yet..."
"%￥#&%!"
Thirty minutes later, Harold finally felt his strength gradually returning.
"I'm sorry," Morris said with great sincerity.
"Are you sure this won't leave any lasting effects?" Still shaken, Harold moved his stiff limbs.
"I'm sure!"
-All right, he was not sure.
But for now, it was better to give a reassuring answer.
With that confirmation, Harold felt a little more at ease, though he still sighed. "Morris, can magic do other things?"
"Of course."
"Such as?"
Morris thought for a moment before answering, "You should have seen some of it with Professor McGonagall. Turning one thing into another, or suddenly appearing a hundred miles away-magic can do all of that."
A trace of longing flashed in Harold's eyes, and he asked hesitantly, "Then can I learn magic?"
"Uh, probably not," Morris told him honestly. "Professor McGonagall said magical ability is usually something you're born with."
That answer left Harold looking rather disappointed.
"Then let's try another question," he said, waving a hand. "Where did you go with Professor McGonagall earlier?"
"A place called Diagon Alley. There are lots of wizards there."
"Can I go there, then?" Harold's voice held unmistakable curiosity.
Morris had meant to say no, but on second thought, if he led the way, perhaps Harold really could get in.
It seemed Harold was very interested in wizards.
That makes things easy, Morris thought.
"I can take you there for a look," he said with a slight smile. "But I have one condition."
"What is it?" Harold was somewhat surprised.
"I want pocket money."
What a shrewd little brat. Harold laughed.
Not a bad thing, though.
"Then we'll set off tomorrow morning," he said, nodding in satisfaction. "I'll come in the car."