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Chapter 7 of My Necromancer of the Forbidden Academy
I wonder if Hogwarts has any additional scholarships.
Fortunately, he didn't have any problem with secondhand items.
It's just a minor issue.
Apart from his toothbrush, almost everything he used in the orphanage was secondhand.
Otherwise, it's supplies donated by kind-hearted individuals and groups.
However, Morris heard from the caregiver that the government had provided ample funds for daily living expenses, enough to buy new household items.
It's unknown whose pocket that money ultimately ended up in.
It's truly terrifying to think about.
...
Shopping took some time.
Magic wand, textbook, glass bottle, telescope, brass balance, crucible...
All that's left are various kinds of clothes.
"Don't worry about that," Professor McGonagall said. "There are specialized secondhand robe shops in Diagon Alley."
The secondhand robe shop is located in a quiet alley on the north side.
The shop was unusually quiet, with rows of clothes racks neatly arranged, filled with all kinds of robes.
A faint scent of camphor wood wafted in the air, along with jazz-like music drifting in from who-knows-where.
The shop owner was an old woman who wore half-moon glasses.
As soon as Morris entered, he was drawn to something placed in the corner.
It was a skeleton, a human skeleton.
Its perfect proportions resemble a piece of sculpted jade.
The skull has a regular curve, the sutures are tightly closed, the ribs of the ribcage are clearly defined and have a translucent texture, and the bones of the limbs also maintain a perfect shape...
Morris was stunned.
He felt a strange heat rising within him.
It's like an avid collector encountering a priceless treasure.
"..."
Fortunately, he quickly regained his composure and did not do anything inappropriate.
But why would such a human skeleton be in a second-hand robe shop?
Using them as clothing models is somewhat inappropriate.
Unlike Maurice, Professor McGonagall was quite calm—there are dancing skeletons in the wizarding world, so a human skeleton is nothing.
Moreover, this skeleton couldn't possibly be a real one—the real ones are all in the nearby Knockout Alley.
The process of choosing the robe went smoothly.
Even after buying all the items, the image of the human skeleton remained in Maurice's mind.
Damn it, could he really be a pervert?
Chapter 7 I Need Pocket Money
In the afternoon, Professor McGonagall dropped Maurice off at the orphanage gate and then left in a hurry—she had heard that she still had a lot of work to do.
Morris has bought everything except the pet.
Hogwarts allows students to bring pets such as owls, cats, or toads.
But Morris already had canned goods, so there was no need to spend any extra money.
So it seems that canned food does have some use.
At least it saved him some money.
When Maurice entered the house pulling the suitcase given to him by the grocery store, he found Harold pacing back and forth in the drawing room.
He looked anxious and uneasy.
"Mr. Green?" Morris greeted him politely.
Harold looked up, glanced behind Maurice, and asked nervously, "Where's Professor McGonagall?"
"They've already left," Morris replied.
Harold finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Morris pulled his suitcase to the sofa, intending to rest for a while.
He had been dragging these things all the way down Diagon Alley.
Although the suitcase, which had been enchanted, wasn't heavy, he was only eleven years old and didn't like sports, so his physical condition naturally wasn't very good.
Harold looked at Maurice's suitcase and asked curiously, "What's inside?"
"Things for school," Morris said casually as he sat down on the sofa, "bought in Diagon Alley: books, clothes, and some odds and ends."
"May I take a look?"
Harold moved closer out of curiosity, and Morris could smell the tobacco on him.
"Hmm, okay." Morris hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, remembering that the other person was, in a sense, his guardian.
He pressed the brass buckle on the side of the box, and the lid popped open.
Harold leaned down to look.
Inside the box were several black robes, a stack of books, and various strange objects, all neatly arranged.
The most eye-catching item is the magic wand at the very top, with mysterious patterns on its dark wood.
He remembered that Professor McGonagall had used a similar small wooden stick to perform magic.
"These are all…" Harold's voice was a little hoarse, "magical items?"
"Probably," Morris replied calmly. "They were all prepared at Hogwarts' request. I'm not sure what they're for."
Harold reached out to touch the wand, but stopped in mid-air.
Wait a minute! Shouldn't we avoid touching these wizarding items?
Morris couldn't help but find the man's curious yet fearful expression somewhat amusing.
"You may pick it up and take a look, Mr. Green, this is my wand," he said. "But please be careful."
Harold then carefully picked up the wand.
The wand was lighter than he had expected.
He held the wand up to his eyes and examined it closely. "Can it really cast spells?"
"It requires a suitable wizard to cast this spell," Maurice cautioned. "For an ordinary person, it's no different from a regular stick."
Harold clearly knew he was just one of the ordinary people.
He handed the wand back to Maurice, rubbed his hands together, and lowered his voice, saying, "Then, Mr. Black, could you cast a spell? Just a small one, so I can see it for myself?"
"I'm not sure if it will work," Morris said honestly. "After all, I haven't started school yet."
"But I can try. Please don't move, Mr. Green."
Upon hearing this, Harold immediately stiffened, even holding his breath.
He stared intently at the wand in Maurice's hand.
However, Maurice simply switched the wand to his left hand and extended his right hand, palm outstretched, toward him.
In fact, Maurice doesn't know how to use a wand at all; the only magic he knows is the Curse of Weakening.
Using the Curse of Weakness requires no special tools.
Mr. Green was fortunate enough to become his first experimental subject.
He had tried hundreds of times to make it in the air, and only succeeded once.
But for some reason, his mind was unusually clear this time.
The construction of the spell model also went exceptionally smoothly.
This time, we will succeed!
"Cough cough..." Harold couldn't help but cough, "Are you going to cast a spell on me?"
"The Curse of Weakness!"
Before he could finish speaking, obscure incantations flowed from Maurice's mouth.
An almost invisible layer of gray mist appeared on Morris's right palm.
Before Harold could even react, he felt a chill run down his spine.
His legs suddenly gave way and he collapsed onto the sofa behind him.
"What is this…" Harold tried to get up, but found that even raising his arm had become extremely difficult.
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