"So, what exactly is the practical application of this construct?" Fred walked cautiously around the manifestation of the tombstone. "Does it violently drag your enemies underground and suffocate them in the dirt?"
"That is a creative suggestion."
Maurise clapped his hands together lightly, his expression thoughtful. "I shall definitely consider integrating that specific combat function during the next upgrade phase."
"Er... please ensure you do not utilize me as a test subject for that," Fred paused, looking slightly nervous. "So, is it just a portable, decorative grave?"
Maurise didn't bother offering a verbal response. He simply raised his right hand and executed a sharp, resonant snap of his fingers.
The Portable Grave currently resting on the floorboards was fundamentally nothing more than a spatial container.
The truly significant, lethal component was what was securely sealed inside.
The sharp snap echoed through the silent parlor.
Almost immediately, the dirt mound began to tremble violently. The earth heaved upward, exactly as if something massive and terrifying was actively clawing its way out from beneath the soil.
Fred and George instinctively took a synchronized, massive step backward.
The dirt mound violently split open.
A massive, incredibly thick skeletal hand burst from the grave, its long, bony fingers digging deeply into the surrounding dirt. It was rapidly followed by a skull, then broad, heavily armored shoulders, and finally, the entirety of a colossal torso.
Seconds later, a towering skeletal construct, standing well over two meters tall, completely dominated the center of the cozy parlor.
This specific construct was vastly different from the standard, flimsy undead skeletons Maurise had previously manufactured.
Its entire skeletal structure was completely pitch-black. The individual bones were absurdly thick and robust. The deep eye sockets of the skull were entirely devoid of pupils, burning instead with a violent, intensely crimson soul-fire. Just standing there motionless, the entity radiated an oppressive, terrifying aura of pure physical strength.
However, what was truly intimidating was the heavy equipment adorning its frame.
It was clad entirely in a set of massive, dark crimson plate armor that gleamed with a cold, polished metallic sheen. A tattered, heavy black cape hung from its broad shoulders, woven with subtle, shifting dark runic patterns that clearly indicate advanced defensive enchantments.
The most exaggerated aspect of the construct, however, was its primary weapon.
It was a colossal greatsword, nearly equal to Maurise's own height. The blade was so absurdly broad and thick it could easily function as a heavy tower shield. Embedded directly into the crossguard was a massive, fist-sized gray gemstone.
Fred stared at the towering monstrosity, completely speechless. Finally, he managed to whisper, "That... is a terrifying unit."
"Allow me to formally introduce him."
Maurise stepped casually toward the massive skeleton, throwing his arms wide in a theatrical gesture. "This is my latest, customized necromantic creation. His official designation is..."
"Champion!"
The exact instant the name left Maurise's lips, Champion abruptly hefted the colossal greatsword in its right hand, shifting its combat stance.
SWISH—!
The sheer physical force of the sudden movement produced a resonant, terrifying sonic boom. The massive blade carved through the air, generating a sharp gale of wind that blew directly against Fred and George's faces.
A violent wave of absolute, primal terror washed over the twins, raising a massive crop of goosebumps across their skin. They stumbled backward in sheer panic.
They stared at the colossal blade with wide, terrified eyes, absolutely petrified that the towering skeleton was going to cleave them in half in the next fraction of a second.
"As you can clearly observe," Maurise noted smoothly, entirely unbothered by the display. "If one were to suffer a direct, unshielded strike from that specific weapon, the resulting physical trauma would likely be quite severe."
Fred swallowed heavily, his throat entirely dry.
'Severe physical trauma?'
'Wouldn't a direct hit from that thing literally vaporize a human being into red mist?'
The sheer kinetic force behind that swing was absolutely no laughing matter.
Observing their terrified, dramatic reactions, Maurise felt a deep sense of satisfaction. "Very well, that concludes the practical demonstration. You may relax. Champion will absolutely not harm you."
Champion slowly lowered its skull, the crimson soul-fire in its eye sockets flaring briefly.
It casually tossed the colossal greatsword directly backward into the open grave. The massive weapon sank effortlessly into the dirt mound, vanishing completely without a trace.
Then, the towering skeleton took a heavy, deliberate step forward, marching directly toward Fred and George.
The twins instinctively attempted to retreat further, but Champion's sheer physical speed was vastly superior. In three massive strides, the construct had closed the distance entirely, looming directly over them.
"What exactly is it attempting to do?!" Fred shrieked frantically, his voice cracking as he looked desperately toward Maurise.
Maurise didn't issue a command to halt the construct. He merely waved a hand casually. "Do not panic."
Champion slowly extended its massive, armored arms. It smoothly draped one heavy skeletal arm over Fred's shoulder, and the other over George's, pulling them into a tight, highly restrictive side-hug, exactly like an old, overly affectionate drinking buddy.
Fred felt his entire body completely petrify in sheer terror.
Maurise explained calmly, "That specific action is simply Champion's method of expressing platonic affection. Psychologically speaking, its behavioral matrix is far more analogous to an overly enthusiastic, giant pet dog than a human being. You may safely pat its skull if you wish."
In absolute reality, Champion was neither human nor animal.
It was the complex, meticulously engineered culmination of Maurise violently pulverizing and alchemically restructuring the skeletal remains of over a dozen dangerous, incredibly powerful magical beasts.
His original objective had merely been to utilize advanced necromantic summoning and complex runic engraving techniques to engineer a permanently enduring, durable skeletal bodyguard.
However, acting on a sudden, highly experimental whim, he had decided to integrate the remaining, volatile energy shards of the Philosopher's Stone he had acquired during his first year directly into the core matrix.
The resulting alchemical reaction had triggered an unpredictable, entirely unique mutation.
The final result, however, was absolutely, terrifyingly magnificent.
Currently, even Maurise himself was completely incapable of accurately calculating the absolute maximum ceiling of Champion's combat capabilities.
He had conducted exactly one physical stress test: relying entirely on raw, unaugmented physical strength, Champion had successfully managed to completely paralyze and pin the reanimated Bone Dragon to the ground.
It was a terrifying display of raw power.
Suffice it to say, as a personal bodyguard, Champion was flawlessly, excessively overqualified.
'A squishy Mage must always be accompanied by a physically robust, heavily armored frontline Warrior. It is a fundamental, universally acknowledged party composition.'
Fred remained perfectly rigid within the skeleton's heavy embrace. He finally couldn't hold back the question any longer. "Er... Maurise. Why exactly hasn't it released us yet?"
Maurise glanced at Champion, then at the twins' terrified, on-the-verge-of-tears expressions. He stated deadpan, "Because it has grown incredibly fond of you."
"We are incredibly fond of him as well!" George immediately blurted out, his voice pitched high in panic.
Seeing that they had suffered enough, Maurise issued a firm command. "Return to your station, Champion."
Champion immediately withdrew its massive arms, taking a respectful step backward. It offered the terrified twins a slight, highly courteous bow, then turned and marched directly back to the open grave, smoothly sliding down into the dirt.
The dirt mound instantly collapsed inward, reverting back into a smooth, dark stone.
Maurise flicked his wand, casually summoning the stone back into the burlap sack.
Absolute, peaceful silence returned to the parlor.
The twins simultaneously let out a massive, shuddering exhale, collapsing onto the sofa.
"Merlin's bony arse!" Fred violently rubbed his stiff shoulders. "That thing possesses an absurd amount of physical strength."
"Highly entertaining, wouldn't you agree?" Maurise tied the burlap sack shut. "If I ever find myself required to traverse a dangerous, hostile environment, I shall simply deploy Champion. I am entirely confident he is capable of mitigating the vast majority of physical threats."
George looked profoundly serious. "Maurise. Champion is the primary physical threat."
Fred nodded vigorously. "I absolutely concur."
For the next hour, the three boys lounged comfortably in the parlor, occupying themselves with various tasks.
George, however, seemed to have initiated an ill-advised, fiercely competitive vendetta against Maurise's spicy hotpot. Despite the fact that his face was a vibrant, alarming shade of crimson and tears were streaming down his cheeks, he stubbornly continued shoveling spicy beef into his mouth.
Maurise looked bewildered by the display. "Why on earth are you torturing yourself so aggressively?"
George's mouth was completely full of burning meat. He attempted to articulate a response, but it merely came out as a series of muffled, pained whimpers.
Fred was laughing so hard he was practically gasping for air. "We initiated a binding wager! If George successfully consumes an entire plate of the spicy beef, I am magically bound to fulfill one specific, unconditional favor for him!"
"I officially surrender," George suddenly dropped his chopsticks, his voice hoarse and broken. "Maurise, I genuinely cannot comprehend how you are capable of voluntarily ingesting this toxic substance."
"Tsk, tsk." Maurise shook his head in mock disappointment. "You simply lack the refined palate required to appreciate true culinary excellence."
Suddenly remembering a relevant topic, Fred turned back to Maurise. "Ah, right. Maurise, George and I have officially decided to permanently gift the Marauder's Map to Harry."
"Oh?" Maurise asked casually. "What exactly prompted that decision?"
"We no longer possess any genuine tactical need for it," George explained, wiping his sweating forehead. "We know the castle layout perfectly. Furthermore, we believe Harry might possess a vastly more critical need for it given his current security situation. However, we distinctly recall you expressing a mild academic interest in analyzing the map's enchantments earlier this year."
Maurise waved a hand dismissively. "Do not concern yourself. It was merely a passing curiosity. Proceed with your transaction."
The exact second he finished his sentence, a sleek, dark silhouette rocketed straight through the glass porthole of the parlor.
It was Cinder, his efficient owl.
The owl dropped a sealed envelope directly onto the coffee table in front of Maurise, let out a sharp hoot, and immediately launched itself back out the window.
Fred watched the owl vanish. "Your owl seems to operate on an incredibly demanding schedule."
"The volume of my correspondence has indeed increased significantly as of late."
Maurise offered a noncommittal hum, picked up the envelope, and smoothly tore it open.
The parchment inside was thin and contained only two brief, scribbled sentences.
'Mr. Black. I am capable of fulfilling this specific contract. Await my positive results. I shall contact you upon completion.'
It was a classified message from Mundungus Fletcher.
Maurise raised an eyebrow, a satisfied smile curling the corner of his mouth.
'It appears the exact geographical coordinates for Nurmengard Castle will soon be in my possession.'