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He could vaguely sense it as well.
Professor Binns has two faces.
One face is the one he shows during class, with little emotional fluctuation, like a serious teaching machine operating according to a program. The other face is the one he shows when chatting with you, with richer emotions and a gentle tone, giving you the feeling of a kind old grandfather next door.
What a peculiar ghost.
...
The agreement with Professor Binns did not affect Morris's daily life.
A week has passed in the blink of an eye, and Morris has already experienced all the courses.
In the first year at Hogwarts, students take eight courses: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbalism, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, History of Magic, and Flying.
The Charms professor was Felius Frivi, whom Maurice had met before, and he was indeed highly skilled in magic.
Morris's pet cat, Canned Food, tried to scratch his whiskers (not at Morris's behest), but before it could even touch him, it was stunned by a stun spell. The spell was so fast that its trajectory was barely visible.
There's not much to say about Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The former is simply stargazing, while the latter is just a professor named Quirrell stammering through the textbook, utterly meaningless and even more boring than History of Magic.
Of course, no one dozed off, because the strange garlic smell emanating from Quirrell kept everyone awake.
What Maurice was most interested in was Potions class.
Potion preparation is a precise art.
Morris became very interested in it after just one try.
Various materials are processed, mixed, and stirred in a strict manner to ultimately lead to a definite result.
This process, full of logic and a sense of control, fascinated him.
And then there's the course's professor, Severus Snape, who seems to be a stern man who doesn't mince words when criticizing or mocking anyone's mistakes.
But Morris didn't dislike this kind of professor.
Moreover, Snape gave off a "terrifyingly strong" feeling, especially his sharp eyes.
However, for some reason, he seemed to pay special attention to Harry Potter.
Or rather—hatred?
It was as if the child was his enemy's.
September 7th, Saturday.
This is Morris's first weekend at Hogwarts.
Students are not allowed to leave the school freely on weekends; only senior students are allowed to go to the neighboring Hogsmeade Village for activities at specific times.
Fortunately, thanks to the existence of magic, students have plenty of extracurricular activities.
Morris took a long break and strolled around the castle.
Of course, he didn't waste any time.
While strolling around, he kept thinking about one thing.
That is the new content that appeared in the Book of Mages before – the Gate to Two Realms.
Morris's intuition told him that this magic circle was extraordinary and a magic he absolutely had to master.
However, the requirements for using this magic circle are far too demanding.
It needs to be used while the user is dead.
Morris has no intention of dying, so the only way to use this magic is through other methods.
For example—faking death.
Yes, Morris thought faking his death would be a good option.
Magic is called magic because it has the power to make anything possible.
Since even ghosts exist, simulating death doesn't seem entirely unimaginable.
With that in mind, Maurice decided to first find someone who might be able to help.
In fact, he didn't have many friends to turn to.
So he went to the trophy room—where there were two poor fellows being punished by Professor Flitwick.
As soon as he entered, he saw two red-haired figures squatting on the ground, wiping the trophy with a rag without any regard for their image.
George (or Fred?) was trying to smear a blob of foam onto Fred's (or George's?) nose, but the other man deftly dodged it.
"Hey, look who's here!" One of them looked up, his eyes lighting up. "You actually came to help us, that's really kind of you, Morris."
As a result, Morris also joined the ranks of those grinding for trophies (forced into it).
Chapter 40 The Water of Life and Death
"Seriously," Morris said, wiping the base of the "First Wizarding Joke Contest" trophy in his hand, looking up and asking, "why don't you use magic? Cleanse—I think that spell would work perfectly."
"Professor Flitwick calls this 'labor reflection,'" Fred said, shrugging. "Besides, these trophies are enchanted; cleansing spells don't work on them."
I see.
He didn't have much resistance to this kind of labor—he was already used to it when he was in the orphanage.
However, the sheer number of trophies here is astounding, covering several entire walls.
Moreover, some of the trophies were obtained inexplicably.
For example, the lame joke contest in Maurice's hands.
The winner's name was written on it: Lily Evans.
After working for nearly half an hour, the three of them threw the rags aside and leaned against the wall to rest for a while.
Fred turned to look at Maurice and suddenly said, "Maurice, I think you must have something else to discuss with us."
"I guessed so," George agreed, "and you're definitely up to no good."
"I didn't expect you to see me this way," Morris said with a feigned hurt expression. "I just wanted to ask you a rather strange question."
"What is it?" Fred and George asked, intrigued.
"I'm thinking…" Morris said with a very serious expression, "Is there any way for a wizard to enter a very realistic state of suspended animation?"
"It's not a simple coma or sleep; it's a state that, from both magical and physical perspectives, is infinitely close to death, yet the person can return under predetermined conditions or at a predetermined time."
The twins exchanged a glance.
"The Water of Life and Death!" the two blurted out in unison.
"The Water of Life and Death," Maurice repeated. "Is it some kind of magic potion?"
"Yes," Fred replied, "the Potion of Life and Death, also known as the Hellish Potion, is a magical potion that can put a person into a state similar to death. After a large dose, your pulse will almost stop, and your body will become cold and stiff. But in reality, it's just a deep sleep."
George added, "We haven't used it, but a skilled wizard would certainly be able to tell that it's not real death."
"I see," Morris nodded.
Although I don't know if it will work as expected, it's worth a try.
Fred scratched his head, somewhat confused. "So, Maurice, why are you asking this?"
"Just out of curiosity," Morris smiled. "I want to experience what death feels like."
He wasn't lying, and that was one of his purposes.
The twins looked at each other again, and both saw the same thought in each other's eyes—
I don't understand, but I respect it.
Although Maurice is a freshman, he is still a Ravenclaw, so it's reasonable for him to have some weird and eccentric ideas.
"Can you buy the Water of Life and Death in Diagon Alley?" Maurice then asked.
His financial situation isn't good, and hopefully this potion won't be too expensive.
Fred shook his head. "That's no ordinary cold medicine, Morris. The Water of Life and Death is a controlled substance by the Ministry of Magic, and special permission is required for both purchase and sale."
"I guessed so," Maurice had anticipated this. "So, do you know the recipe? And how difficult is it to prepare?"
"All I know is that its ingredients are daffodil root powder and artemisia infusion," Fred said. "Because our textbooks only mention this, and so does yours. But I imagine the actual recipe and steps must be far more complex and extremely dangerous—not something a first-year student should be doing—"
He wanted to say that it wasn't something a first-year student should try, but when he thought of Maurice, who kept the giant spider as a pet, he swallowed the rest of his words.
"Maybe you could try looking for the recipe in the library," George said. "It might be in the regular section, or maybe the restricted section? Anyway, give it a try."
"I will take that into consideration, thank you," Morris said gratefully.
He immediately turned around and headed to the library to find information.
Of course, this only applies to ordinary areas.
The restricted area can only be entered with a professor's permission, and professors don't just give permission to freshmen who have only been enrolled for a short time.
"Wait a minute," Fred called out to him.
"What's wrong?"
Morris turned around in confusion and found a rag thrown into his hand.
"At least help us clean the trophy," Fred said with a grin.
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