Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and a witch whom Morris didn't recognize but seemed vaguely familiar with—probably the professor of one of his elective courses.
Morris didn't want to disturb the professors' gathering, but Professor Flitwick spotted him immediately in the crowd.
" Mr. Black!" Professor Flitwick shouted in a high-pitched voice.
The volume was so loud that guests at several nearby tables looked over curiously.
Morris had no choice but to step forward and greet him, "Good evening, Professor."
He could feel Professor McGonagall scrutinizing him with a stern gaze.
" Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall asked sternly, "What are you doing here? Where is your guardian?"
She knew Morris was living in an orphanage, and his appearance at Hogsmeade at this time was clearly unusual.
So Morris explained how he had taken the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley Diagon Alley then used Floo Powder to get here.
This is not some secret that can't be told.
Harold, as his guardian, also knew that he had always lived in Diagon Alley.
Incidentally, the caregivers at those orphanages didn't care at all about losing a child—it was common for children at those orphanages to stay out all night.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "You really are a restless fellow, Mr. Black."
"Thank you for the compliment, Professor."
"I'm not praising you," Professor McGonagall said, frowning with concern in her eyes.
She felt that, given Morris's current behavior, he was very likely to become a problem student in the future.
Just like those red-haired twins.
Thankfully, the twins didn't cause too much trouble during the Christmas holidays; the most outrageous thing they did was use magic to control snowballs and chase Professor Quirrell all over the castle.
At that moment, the unfamiliar witch beside him looked up and asked, "Are you Morris Black?"
"Yes, Professor." Morris nodded. "May I ask who you are...?"
" Bathsheda Babbling," Professor Babbling said with a smile, her voice gentle. "I think you should have seen me before. I teach Ancient Runes, an elective course starting in the third year."
Morris replied politely, "I've seen you a few times at lunchtime; you often sit with the other professors. I plan to take your class in my third year; I'm very interested in Ancient Runes."
Ancient Runes is an ancient script imbued with magical power, often used in advanced spells and magical items.
However, Morris hasn't studied it in depth yet, as he already has enough to learn.
He understood the principle that "don't bite off more than you can chew."
Professor Babbling smiled, her eyes crinkling. "You'll enjoy this course. I'm looking forward to your performance."
"Oh, by the way, Professor Flitwick told me that you are incredibly skilled in spells, even capable of dealing with a Troll single-handedly. Is that true?"
Morris turned and glanced at Professor Flitwick was sitting in a raised chair.
Professor Flitwick blushed slightly, coughed twice, and said, " Morris is indeed very outstanding."
Who wouldn't be happy to see their students excel?
Although the description may be exaggerated, it's normal to praise one's own child a bit more after all.
And that's not wrong either. While other students were still figuring out how to make the feather float, Morris was already able to lift the desk and smash it into his toes!
Oh, it still hurts a little when I think about it.
The casual conversation came to a temporary halt, and Professor McGonagall's expression turned serious again. "So, Mr. Black, where do you plan to go next? Hogsmeade doesn't have any accommodations."
"It's alright," Morris waved his hand. "At worst, I'll use the Floo Network to get back to Diagon Alley, there's—"
"Bang!"
Something exploded.
All eyes turned to the source of the sound.
Thick smoke billowed from the fireplace in the corner, and a couple nearby were caught in the fumes, their faces blackened and looking disheveled.
Morris was somewhat relieved that he hadn't sat in that seat.
Immediately afterwards, a bald man coughed as he crawled out of the fireplace. His clothes were tattered, almost exposing his private parts, making him look like a mole that had crawled out of the chimney.
"No!" Madam Rosmerta screamed as she ran forward, "My fireplace!"
The scene immediately descended into chaos.
"There are always some fools who try to make Floo Powder themselves," Professor Babbling sighed, her voice tinged with helplessness. "A few Sickle could buy a whole bag."
Morris did not respond.
In fact, when he first saw Floo Powder, he was also curious about the composition and working principle of the silver powder.
It's important to know that although Floo Powder is very cheap, the daily consumption is extremely high.
If it could be replicated, it would be an enormous fortune.
But what he was more concerned about at the moment was... whether this smoking fireplace was still usable.
The chaos gradually subsided.
Shortly afterward, several male witches rushed in and took the culprit away.
Before leaving, the bald man kept shouting, "I'm almost there! Just a little bit more! Ah, don't pull me back, at least let me change my pants!"
Yeah, you idiot.
Because of the chaos, Madam Rosmerta gave all the guests a Butterbeer and put up a "Under Repair" sign next to the fireplace.
Morris turned to Professor McGonagall: "Professor, may I return to Hogwarts early?"
Professor McGonagall agreed.
That evening, Morris returned to Hogwarts.
He had successfully obtained the raw materials for the Draught of Living Death and even earned some extra Galleon, so there was no need for him to linger outside.
Lying on his warm bed in the dormitory, listening to the howling wind outside the window, Morris was planning his next move.
First, the brewing of the Draught of Living Death is necessary, and the advancement rituals for the Guantou and Yanhua should ideally be carried out as soon as possible.
Secondly, spell practice cannot be neglected, nor can Potions learning be relaxed.
Oh, and there's also the investigation into Grindelwald; to this day, he still knows nothing about Nurmengard.
Information about that prison is scarce, and even if you ask Dumbledore directly, he probably won't tell you...
"Meow--"
A cat's meow interrupted Morris's thoughts.
He turned his head and found the Guantou squatting not far away.
"Oh, it's you."
Looking at his cat, Morris suddenly realized that he must have forgotten it at the orphanage.
Why are you here?
Never mind, as long as nothing's wrong.
Morris stopped investigating, got up, set up the crucible, and prepared to start brewing the Draught of Living Death.
Guantou sighed softly, then leaped onto Morris's bed.
While at the orphanage, its careless owner accidentally packed it up with a pile of odds and ends while it was sleeping and sent it back to Hogwarts.
Fortunately, the Yanhua were discovered in time, allowing them to see the light of day again.