" Morris, did you see your parents in the Mirror of Erised?" Harry's voice carried a hint of concern.
Morris looked away from the Magic Mirror, glanced at Harry, and shook his head. "All I see are tons of Galleon, piled up like a mountain."
"Gold... Galleon?" Harry blinked, his face full of astonishment.
Even Dumbledore, who had maintained a gentle smile the whole time, had a slight, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth.
That really is... a realistic wish.
Harry processed this information for a moment, then couldn't help but ask, "But Morris, don't you want to see your parents?"
Morris shrugged and said casually, " Harry, would you have hope for something that doesn't even exist?"
"Even if I wanted my parents to appear in the mirror, I couldn't even imagine what they would look like."
In fact, he had no parents in both his previous and current lives, not just in this one.
They didn't even have any relatives.
He had grown accustomed to life as an orphan.
Harry opened his mouth but didn't speak, though the sadness on his face was obvious.
Morris chuckled, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Don't look at me like that, Harry. Do you think I'd still be sad about not having parents?"
Losing something is often harder to let go of than never having had it at all.
"Alright, you two," Dumbledore's voice rang out, "This mirror is indeed magical, but it can easily lead one astray into illusion. As someone who has been through it, I can tell you that looking into this mirror too much will bring you no benefit."
"After tomorrow, this mirror will be moved to another place, Harry, and Morris, don't come here again..."
After saying goodbye to Dumbledore, Morris and Harry walked side by side down the castle corridor.
"We're lucky," Morris said easily, "We weren't punished or penalized."
Harry, why aren't you saying anything? Are you still thinking about the mirror?
Harry lowered his head and sighed. "Yes."
He paused for a moment, then asked hesitantly, " Morris, what was your life like in the orphanage?"
Morris didn't stop walking; this question didn't surprise him.
"Not bad," he said. "The director is a decent person; at least he makes sure we have enough to eat. The caregivers don't really care about anything, but that's not a bad thing either."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Aha! Two little wizards!"
At that moment, a sharp, piercing scream shattered the silence of the corridor.
A ghost wearing a brightly colored bow tie and strange clothes suddenly darted out from a tapestry on one side.
" Peeves!" Harry was startled and instinctively took a step back.
"Look who it is! The very famous Harry Potter!" Peeves circled around Harry. "You naughty brat, what are you doing here so late?"
Morris stepped forward and calmly said, " Peeves, if you want to tell the professor, you can try. However, we just parted ways with Headmaster Dumbledore."
Upon hearing this, Peeves was not scared away at all; instead, he suddenly moved closer to Morris.
"Liar! Haha!"
He suddenly rose higher and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Night roaming--! Harry Potter is night roaming--! Come and catch him--!"
Harry's face paled, and he felt a pang of regret.
Perhaps he should wear Invisibility Cloak.
I was careless!
Although Dumbledore didn't say anything about their nighttime outing, Filch might not.
Morris frowned as he watched Peeves tumbling triumphantly in the air.
There's nothing we can do.
He took out his wand and pretended to wave it twice, " Weakening Curse! Wailing Curse!"
Two almost invisible wisps of gray mist quickly drifted towards Peeves.
Harry was about to remind Morris that magic was useless against Peeves when he saw Peeves suddenly widen his eyes, kick his legs, and plummet straight down from the sky.
"Ah?"
That's right, Morris's curse can be used on ghosts.
And for some reason, it works much better than when used on living people.
He had previously tested it on Nearly Headless Nick.
It was just a very slight Weakening Curse, almost ineffective against a person, yet it made the Gryffindor ghost feel "completely weak."
It now appears that the same principle applies to Peeves, which are similar to ghosts, with outstanding results.
Harry could hardly believe it when he saw Peeves lying motionless on the ground.
"Let's go," Morris said. "The commotion just now might attract attention."
The two quickly left the scene.
The corridor returned to silence, broken only by the occasional soft crackling of torches.
About ten minutes later.
A figure with a thick headscarf appeared and stopped a few steps away from Peeves.
"That's interesting."
Quirrell heard his master say this.
The Christmas holidays passed quickly, and Hogwarts became lively again after the start of the new school term.
The weather was just terrible, with continuous rain lasting for almost half a month.
During this period, Morris devoted almost all his energy to brewing the Draught of Living Death and condensing the Gap Crystal.
In the Gap World, he discovered that the white mist in a certain area was finite. As he continued to create energy crystals, the concentration of the mist near the castle decreased and the rate at which it gathered slowed down.
In the end, not a single drop remained.
Therefore, Morris had to go to more distant places to Energy Gathering, which greatly reduced his efficiency.
Mid-January, Saturday.
In the morning, Morris Meditation as usual in his dorm room.
After sitting cross-legged on the bed without moving for two hours, he exhaled a breath of stale air and opened his eyes.
My legs are numb.
Everyone has a posture that suits them best.
Although he can Meditation in other postures, sitting cross-legged is the easiest way for him to concentrate.
Morris shifted his body, slowly moving his stiff legs.
Recently, he has gradually come to understand the true purpose of Meditation —to enhance his perception of "magic".
This is why his success rate in casting spells increases significantly after Meditation.
As his Meditation deepened, he could now clearly sense the presence of "magic".
He possesses magic within him, magic in his blood, and magic even lingers in the air.
Unfortunately, he cannot fully control these primal magical powers yet; he can only release them through magic—whether it's the magic of this world or the magic in the Book of the Mage.
"Bang! Bang!"
Just then, a strange noise came from the window. Morris went over and opened it, and cold air mixed with raindrops rushed in.
At the same time, Yanhua, somewhat drenched and disheveled, also squeezed in.
"Thanks for your hard work."
Morris patted his pet's head, cast a Drying Charm on it, and took a small bag from its paw.
He weighed the bag in his hand; it was heavy, and a reassuring metallic scraping sound emanated from inside.
This is Frick's share of the proceeds from the sale of the Skeleton Dog.
Morris hummed a song as he took out the Galleon and stored them in his box.
He will never hate Galleon.
blessing