"Good boy, come here," Morris said warmly, extending his hand in invitation.
The freshly created undead unicorn having received the command immediately responded with obedience. It walked smoothly across the dormitory to stand before its master.
Then it lowered its head slightly in a gesture that seemed almost like a bow, bringing that magnificent black spiral horn down to Morris's level.
The single horn gently touched Morris's outstretched palm, making direct contact. The sensation was particularly cold but nevertheless not painfully bone-chilling or uncomfortable.
"How do you feel?" Morris asked, stroking the unicorn's smooth skull with affection and curiosity.
The undead unicorn let out a low, somewhat uncertain sound in response that expressed confusion and blankness.
Morris sighed with slight disappointment and patted the unicorn's horn consolingly. "Never mind, forget I asked,"
It seemed that, just like his undead dog when it had been first-tier without any advancement, the undead unicorn's intelligence and awareness were also severely limited in scope.
Capable of understanding only the simplest, most basic commands like "come," "stay," "follow," "attack."
At precisely that moment, Tin-Tin who had been watching the new arrival with curiosity from across the room silently climbed onto the undead unicorn's lowered head, positioning itself between the empty eye sockets.
The cat reached out one bone paw toward the black horn with intense interest and experimentally batted at it a couple of times, making small tapping sounds.
Tap tap tap.
Testing whether it was solid.
The undead unicorn didn't resist this invasion of its personal space or show any aggression toward the smaller undead creature. It merely tilted its head gently to one side in a smooth motion, shaking the persistent cat off with minimal force.
Tin-Tin, displaying the remarkable reflexes that cats possessed flipped gracefully in midair and landed on all four paws on the ground without any difficulty.
Unfortunately, the landing spot happened to be directly on top of the tall stack of reference books Morris had piled up earlier against the wall for later reading.
The stack immediately collapsed with a loud cascading crash across the floor in all directions.
Morris winced at the noise and the resulting mess.
The undead dog, which had been resting quietly in its usual corner and observing everything with curiosity, raised its head at all the commotion. Its blue flame eyes flickered brighter as it too curiously examined this impressive new colleague that had joined their group.
Looking at this chaotic scene of three undead creatures and their mess currently occupying his personal living space, Morris suddenly realized that his dormitory room was getting seriously cramped for space.
Although he enjoyed the luxury of occupying an entire dormitory room by himself due to his odd numbers in Ravenclaw house, the available space was clearly becoming stretched after adding four undead pets to the environment.
The unicorn alone took up as much space as a small horse. Add the dog, the cat, and Sparkles when it wasn't hiding in shadows, plus his bed, desk, wardrobe, and all his other belongings...
It was getting genuinely crowded. Difficult to move around without tripping over something undead.
Fortunately, Morris already had a perfect solution to this problem that he'd been planning to implement today anyway.
Just a few days ago, another new and incredibly useful magic circle had appeared in the pages of The Mage's Book: the "Undead Creature Containment Array."
As the name clearly suggested, this specialized magic circle could open up and maintain a stable pocket dimension specifically designed to house undead creatures safely and comfortably.
A personal storage space for his growing army, basically.
Morris removed his school robe and spread it flat and smooth on the floor, carefully positioning it to provide adequate workspace.
Then he retrieved his ritual chalk and began meticulously drawing the containment magic circle directly onto the inside lining of the robe where it wouldn't be visible when worn.
The circle wasn't particularly large by ritual standards. But the symbols and runes involved were intricate and required absolute precision.
One wrong line could destabilize the entire spatial enchantment.
After completing the drawing with careful attention to every detail, checking it twice against the diagram in his mental copy of the Mage's Book, Morris took several Gate energy crystals from his backpack and tossed them onto the completed circle.
The crystals landed with small impacts, then immediately began transforming. They dissolved instantly into silvery-white mist upon contact with the enchantment and were absorbed directly by the magic circle's structure.
The intricate pattern glowed briefly with brilliant silver light as it absorbed and integrated the enormous amount of energy, then quickly dimmed back down to normal appearance.
Now the circle appeared like nothing more than an ordinary decorative pattern branded on the inside of the robe.
Everything was ready for testing.
Morris picked up the robe and put it back on properly, settling it on his shoulders and adjusting the fit. He waited a moment, paying careful attention to any unusual sensations.
He felt absolutely no difference at all from wearing a normal robe.
The enchantment was completely inconspicuous in daily use.
Time for the real test.
Morris focused his will on the containment array while simultaneously flicking the edge of his robe toward the undead unicorn in a gesture.
In the next second, something absolutely fascinating occurred.
The unicorn's solid form suddenly distorted and wavered like a mirage, its physical structure was becoming temporarily fluid and unstable. Then it transformed completely into a beam of pure white light.
The light silently flowed directly into the robe's cloth and disappeared entirely from the dormitory, leaving no trace behind.
The room immediately felt noticeably more spacious without the large creature taking up floor space.
Morris closed his eyes and focused his awareness inward, following the new magical connection.
He could clearly sense that a gray, hazy small pocket dimension was now closely connected to him through the robe's enchantment.
And within that otherworldly space, the undead unicorn was standing quietly in apparently good condition waiting patiently in the magical storage area.
Satisfied with this successful result, Morris then turned his attention to the undead dog and similarly flicked the edge of his robe toward it with the same commanding gesture.
The dog also vanished in an identical process of distortion, transformation to light, absorption into the robe. It reappeared inside the containment space, standing beside the undead unicorn in that gray dimensional pocket.
Both creatures seemed perfectly comfortable in their new accommodations.
What an incredibly convenient spell, Morris marveled silently, genuinely impressed with the practical usefulness.
If he somehow managed to create and maintain enough undead creatures, he could theoretically carry an entire undead army with him wherever he went, hidden in plain sight.
Unfortunately, Morris had to acknowledge the current significant limitation: first-tier undead creatures like his current collection had extremely little actual combat capability against real opponents.
Creatures like the basic first-stage undead dog and this newly created first-tier undead unicorn were basically nothing more than moving bone frames without much substance.
No matter how many such creatures he converted and accumulated in his containment space, if he didn't perform advancement rituals on them to unlock higher tiers and special capabilities, they would be very difficult to put to any practical use in real situations.
Quantity without quality wasn't actually useful.
Morris's gaze shifted and landed on Tin-Tin, who was now grooming itself in a corner and pretending it hadn't knocked over all those books.
Well, he thought somewhat bitterly, even after advancing to second-tier through the ritual process, there was apparently no guarantee the creatures would become useful or gain impressive abilities.
Some just got slightly better baseline stats. Like certain disappointing fussy cats.
Afterward, deciding to maximize his current resources, Morris turned his attention to the half-wolf skeleton he'd collected from the Forbidden Forest.
He spent another hour carefully assembling the pieces, though several were missing or too damaged to use.
He barely managed to create a functional but limping undead wolf from the incomplete materials. The creature walked with an awkward, uneven gait due to one back leg being slightly shorter than the others.
Morris immediately collected this imperfect creation into the containment space as well, where it joined the unicorn and dog.
His portable undead collection was growing nicely.
Over the next several days following the unicorn creation and containment array success, Morris mainly focused his energy and available time on the tedious but necessary work of condensing more Gate energy crystals from repeated trips to the Gate world.
He didn't return to the Forbidden Forest to collect additional skeletal materials despite the temptation. That could wait.
For now, he had decided to pursue what he mentally termed the "elite route"—having all his current existing undead creatures complete their advancement rituals to second tier before expanding his collection.
As for building that impressive undead army he'd fantasized about, with hundreds or thousands of skeletal soldiers under his command... well, there would be opportunities for that ambitious project in the future when he had more resources and better understanding.
Late February arrived with continued cold and frequent rain. Thursday, a normal school day.
Defense Against the Dark Arts class, last period of the afternoon.
At the front of the classroom on the raised podium, Quirrell was stuttering his way through yet another practically useless lesson about recognizing dark creatures, his words were coming out in halting fragments that made the subject matter incomprehensible.
"The r-red cap is a d-dangerous cr-creature that l-lurks in... in places where b-blood has been sp-spilled..."
His nervous stammering made every sentence take three times as long as it should, and most students had stopped even pretending to pay attention.
Beneath him in the seating, students were openly dozing off, passing notes, doing homework for other classes, or simply staring into space with glazed eyes.
Morris sat in his usual seat near the middle, not even bothering to take notes since nothing useful was being said. Instead, he was reviewing advanced potion formulas in a different textbook hidden beneath his Defense notes.
He suddenly recalled with idle curiosity the Halloween incident from last term, when Professor Quirrell had been found in the dungeons, frightened completely unconscious by a loose troll that had somehow gotten into the castle.
The man had literally fainted from fear at the mere sight of the creature.
Thinking it over carefully now, Morris thought this whole situation was somewhat unreasonable and didn't quite add up logically.
After all, he had personally seen Quirrell operating in Knockturn Alley, walking through those dangerous streets alone.
To be able to operate successfully in a place like Knockturn Alley. if not requiring exceptional courage and significant skill, being extremely afraid of a mere troll to the point of unconsciousness obviously didn't make any sense at all.
But well, Morris thought dismissively, this had nothing to do with him.
He was just idly thinking about it out of boredom while Quirrell droned on about red caps for the fifteenth minute straight.
At that moment, interrupting Morris's wandering thoughts, Hermione beside him spoke in a low, frustrated whisper.
"This class teaches us absolutely nothing useful, does it?" she said, her voice was mixing annoyance and resignation. "Professor Quirrell can't even explain the most basic knowledge clearly enough for anyone to learn anything. I've learned more from reading the textbook on my own."
"Indeed," Morris nodded in complete agreement, not even looking up from his hidden potions book. "So, you'd better just teach yourself the material independently, or use this class time for other more productive things."
As he spoke, he deliberately showed her the advanced potions textbook he had open in his hands.
Hermione opened her mouth, but ultimately said nothing.
She personally wouldn't openly do other subjects' work during Defense Against the Dark Arts class. That would feel somewhat disrespectful to Professor Quirrell, regardless of his incompetence.
That said, Morris really did seem to love potions to the point of obsession.
While she personally didn't dislike potions as a subject, there was still Professor Snape's terrible teaching style and obvious favoritism to deal with as the Potions professor.
That complicated relationship made the subject less enjoyable than it might otherwise be.
Well, it was all very complicated.
Before Hermione could give any response to Morris's advice, the bell rang loudly throughout the castle, signaling the end of class and the end of the school day.
Students immediately began gathering their belongings and flooding toward the door with obvious relief at escaping.
As Morris was leaving the Defense classroom, walking through the corridor toward the stairs, someone unexpected suddenly approached him from behind with hurried footsteps.
"Black," Neville Longbottom's nervous voice called out. "Wait, please. I need to talk to you about something."
Morris stopped walking and turned around, genuinely somewhat surprised.
What could Neville possibly want with him? They'd barely interacted since that incident with Malfoy.
"Should we go somewhere else more private to talk?" Morris asked, noting Neville's obviously nervous demeanor and the crowded corridor. "If this is personal..."
Neville looked anxiously at the many students coming and going around them in the busy hallway and answered with nervousness, "No need—uh, actually maybe we should go somewhere else after all."
He seemed unable to make a firm decision, his uncertainty was showing.
The two of them walked together in somewhat awkward silence all the way outside to the flower beds in the castle's courtyard.
"So," Morris spoke first once they'd stopped, trying to help Neville along. "What do you want from me? Has Draco Malfoy been bullying you again?"
It seemed like the most likely explanation.
Neville's eyes immediately moistened with the beginning of tears at the direct question, confirming Morris's guess.
He stammered miserably, his voice was breaking slightly, "How... how did you know? Did someone tell you?"
"Just a guess," Morris raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone calm. "So—do you want me to help you get revenge on him? If so, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong person for that."
Neville quickly shook his head in denial. "No, I just wanted to ask how you deal with Malfoy. I remember you said before that he couldn't beat you."
Morris drew his wand from his robes and pointed at it meaningfully with his other hand, stating the obvious answer flatly.
"With this. Magic. Power," he said bluntly. "If Malfoy uses the Leg-Locker Curse on you, just hit him back immediately with a Blasting Curse. Trust me—after experiencing that once, he won't dare bother you again."
Neville's round face showed an utterly bewildered, overwhelmed expression at this advice.
'Blasting Curse? That was advanced magic! Was this spell something a first-year student should even be learning right now?!'
Seeing Neville's obvious confusion and the impracticality of his initial suggestion, Morris sighed and decided to give more realistic advice suited to Neville's actual capabilities and situation.
"Actually, honestly, I think you should just tell a professor about it," Morris said more gently. "Professor McGonagall especially won't ignore it if you report it properly."
"I don't want to cause trouble for anyone," Neville lowered his head, his voice was barely audible. "Besides, Malfoy specifically said that even if I told a professor, they couldn't actually catch him doing anything wrong. He also said his father is on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, so nothing would really happen to him anyway..."
"Then just honestly and diligently practice your magic," Morris said kindly. "I can tell you about a few useful, easy-to-learn spells that would help you defend yourself. As for anything more than that, I'm sorry but I can't help you. You need to help yourself."
Neville's eyes lit up instantly with hope and gratitude.
"Really? You'd teach me spells?" he asked with obvious amazement. "Thank you so much, Black. That's already more than enough help. I really appreciate it."
Morris nodded and said. "Just call me Morris,"
Neville nodded vigorously in agreement. "Okay, Morris. Thank you, Morris."
Then he asked eagerly, "So what spell are you going to teach me? Should I get parchment to take notes?"
Morris rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mentally reviewing spells that would be both useful for Neville's situation and actually possible for him to learn given his current level.
"Let's go with the Lassitude Charm to start," he decided after a moment. "It's not well-known but quite useful."
This was a relatively obscure spell Morris had found in an old book in the library's general stacks. Its effect was to make the target feel mild but distinct fatigue and lethargy like they hadn't slept well or had just run a long distance.
It could be seen as basically a playful, non-dangerous version of the Weakness Curse.
The casting difficulty was very low, making it perfect for complete beginners to learn as a first practical combat spell.