My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

When they returned to the orphanage, night had completely fallen, and the last rays of sunlight had disappeared on the horizon.

The outline of the orphanage looked particularly desolate in the night.

Harold couldn't help but sigh softly; the past two days had been more surreal than his entire previous life combined.

"How are you feeling?" Morris asked calmly.

"Not bad," Harold replied casually.

He didn't buy any souvenirs in Diagon Alley, except for a few hopping chocolate frogs—which he had already eaten.

Magic, it turns out, is something that really exists.

Unfortunately, he couldn't reveal these things to anyone other than the wizard.

This is a world that ordinary people cannot access.

It was a world he couldn't access before.

Morris stretched. "Goodbye, Mr. Green, I'm going to rest now."

A complex emotion welled up in Harold's heart for no apparent reason.

Based on the past two days of interaction, even setting aside his wizard identity, this child named Morris is no ordinary person. If it weren't for his young appearance, he would feel as if he were talking to someone his own age.

"Maurice," he called out to the boy who was carrying the birdcage and about to turn away, took a business card from his suit pocket, and handed it to him, "If you need anything, you can try calling me."

He paused, then added, "You should be able to find the phone number in the phone book, but it's more convenient to have this directly."

"Thank you." Morris accepted Harold's business card.

He knew Harold was trying to show him goodwill.

This also has its advantages for him.

"Oh, one more thing," Harold said, as if remembering something before leaving, "If you really did resurrect this owl, could you let me see it?"

Morris pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay."

This is not a loss for him.

And he found Harold quite agreeable—even though he was bald.

When Morris returned to his dorm, his roommate Scott was playing with a dagger he'd picked up from somewhere.

"It's a bit rusty," he said. "I'm trying to put it back together... What is that?"

He noticed the birdcage in Maurice's hand.

"An owl," Morris said matter-of-factly, then placed it in a corner of the room.

"And then?" Scott looked curiously at the listless black bird in the cage. "Shouldn't you explain?"

"It's a gift from Mr. Green," Morris explained.

The mystery suddenly became even greater.

"Mr. Green?" Scott put down the dagger in his hand, frowned, and searched his memory. "Which Mr. Green? We don't seem to know anyone with the surname Green."

Harold Green is the head of this children's home.

Scott then realized what was going on.

It's not his fault; when Maurice saw Harold, he almost didn't remember who he was either.

"So why did he give you an owl?" Scott was even more puzzled.

"My back-to-school gift." Morris shook the birdcage, and the owl inside fluttered its wings slightly.

Scott still didn't understand.

Who gave an owl as a back-to-school gift?

"Ah, I see." Scott suddenly looked enlightened, lowered his voice and leaned closer to Maurice, "Actually, Harold Green is your father, isn't he?"

"Your imagination is too vivid." Morris continued what he was doing, carefully taking the owl out of its cage.

The large black bird lay docilely in his arms, still looking weak.

"That makes perfect sense!" Scott analyzed excitedly. "A manager who never usually appears in front of us suddenly gives you such a special gift, an owl! This is definitely not an ordinary gift; it has a special meaning..."

Morris ignored Scott's ramblings and continued to observe the owl's condition.

According to the pet store clerk, the owl was cursed by a dark wizard, which is why it turned out this way.

They must have suffered a lot.

"Looks like we need to prepare for the conversion spell as soon as possible," Morris murmured.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?" Scott continued rambling on.

"Go to sleep." Morris put the owl in its cage and climbed into his bed.

......

The next morning, the first thing Maurice did after getting up was to look at the owl in the corner.

The Ulln owl in the cage lay on its side, its already dim eyes now completely devoid of light.

It remained in the same position it had been in before falling asleep last night, but its chest was no longer rising and falling.

died.

Morris stared silently at the lifeless owl, his face expressionless.

"As expected, I couldn't make it through." He muttered to himself.

The miracle, unsurprisingly, did not occur.

The lifespan of the Ulln owl is even shorter than the two days the shop assistant said it could live.

Morris carefully carried the birdcage containing the corpse out of the dormitory and into the warehouse in the backyard.

He didn't know if the undead creature conversion magic circle had any requirements regarding the time of death of the corpse, so it was better to complete it as soon as possible.

storehouse.

Having learned from his previous experience, Morris completed the construction of the undead creature conversion magic circle in just half an hour this time.

But this time, Morris plans to add a little something extra.

Morris stood beside the magic circle, palm down, his right arm outstretched forward.

"Blood-drawing technique!"

It was a very simple spell (compared to the Curse of Weakness), and Morris mastered it completely in just one hour.

The effect is simple: to draw blood from the user without causing any wounds.

As Maurice chanted, blood slowly dripped from the center of his palm.

"Pat-pat, pat..."

The blood dripped onto the ground, and as if it had come to life, it merged into the magic circle.

The magic circle, already painted with red pigment, became even more alluring, emitting an eerie dark red glow.

After feeling slightly dizzy, Morris stopped the blood-drawing procedure.

He didn't know how much blood had mixed in with him, but he figured the amount must be considerable.

Then, he walked to the cage to the side, picked up the cold, stiff owl, and gently placed it in the center of the magic circle.

The results this time should be quite interesting.

"The world of the living has not forgotten you, and the peaceful rest of death is not the end of your story."

As soon as Morris finished chanting, the magic circle reacted.

Just like last time, the scarlet lines flowed slowly, all of them entering the owl's corpse.

However, this time, a few strands of dark gold could be faintly seen within the blood-red patterns.

As the last glimmer of red light disappeared into the owl's body, the warehouse fell into dead silence.

Suddenly, the owl opened its eyes wide, and two clusters of eerie blue flames ignited in its empty eye sockets, replacing its original eyeballs.

Morris crouched down in front of it.

"Waaah—"

It stood up, gazed at Maurice with its burning eyes, slowly lowered its head, and gently touched his fingertips with its beak.