My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

The interior of the train was much as Maurice had imagined; it was just an ordinary train.

Excited students filled every carriage, and their noisy laughter could be heard clearly even through the doors.

He arrived too late and couldn't find an empty cubicle.

There was nothing he could do; although he preferred quiet, he had to make do with it.

Finally, halfway through the train, he saw a compartment with only three students sitting inside.

A boy with light blond hair and a pointed chin stood opposite two large, chubby children.

The blond boy was saying something in a sharp tone, while the other two nodded in agreement.

Morris knocked on the partition.

The conversation inside abruptly stopped.

Three pairs of eyes simultaneously turned towards the doorway.

The blond boy looked Maurice up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on his plain robe and the black cat, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

"What is it?" The blond boy's tone carried a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.

"Are there any seats available here?" Morris asked in a calm tone, seemingly unaware of the distance the other person was deliberately creating.

The blond boy didn't answer immediately, but another boy next to him spoke up in a gruff voice, with a clear sense of xenophobia, "This place is already full, and Draco doesn't like to be disturbed."

The blond boy, known as Draco, raised his pointed chin, seemingly pleased with his companion's response.

"Excuse me," Morris replied politely.

Since the other party has already made their stance clear, he won't bother to go along with it.

But just as he turned to leave, he keenly caught a clear smacking sound coming from the cubicle.

Then came the blond boy's undisguised sarcasm: "Tsk... another one who doesn't know the rules. Look at that robe, and that strange cat, probably another Mudblood."

The malicious tone made Maurice pause in his tracks.

Mud seed?

That doesn't sound like a good word.

Forget it, why bother arguing with a few kids?

If there's a chance next time, I'll teach them a little lesson.

Unruly children need the iron fist of justice to punish them.

He shook his head slightly and continued looking for an empty spot.

"Hello, are there any seats available here?"

"Um... if you don't mind, please come in."

"Thanks."

This time, the cubicle contained three children who were significantly taller than him, clearly not first-graders.

A pair of red-haired twins—obvious, because they look exactly alike. There was also a tall, dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks.

Morris left his luggage outside the carriage and sat down next to the dreadlocked boy, clutching the canned food.

"Um... hello." The person greeted him hesitantly.

"Hello." Morris nodded, responding just as concisely.

He adjusted his breathing, straightened his back slightly, and then slowly closed his eyes, quickly entering a meditative state.

The black cat in my arms seemed to be infected by the atmosphere, stretched, curled up and closed its eyes.

For a moment, the cubicle fell into an unusual silence.

The other three looked at each other, their faces showing a bit of inexplicable confusion.

Strange person.

"Ahem." The boy with the dreadlocks cleared his throat, trying to break the somewhat eerie silence.

He turned to Maurice, who seemed to be resting with his eyes closed, and asked, "Are you a freshman?"

Morris immediately opened his eyes.

He had only intended to travel to Hogwarts quietly, but since the other party had taken the initiative to speak to him, it would be impolite not to respond.

"Yes," Morris replied with a smile.

"I'm Lee Jordan." The dreadlocked boy seemed relieved when he heard the reply.

For some reason, he had felt that Maurice had an indescribable aura about him.

It seemed as if a voice was telling him that it was best not to get close.

Lee Jordan pointed to the red-haired twins opposite him. "These are Fred Weasley and George Weasley. We're third-year students from Gryffindor."

"I am Maurice Black, just call me Maurice," Maurice said simply.

"Blake!?"

Fred and George exclaimed in unison, as if they had been stepped on at the same time. They sat up abruptly, their relaxed smiles vanishing instantly.

The atmosphere inside the carriage suddenly became tense.

"What's wrong?" Morris asked, somewhat surprised.

George stared intently at Maurice and asked cautiously, "Who are your parents...?"

This question is hardly polite.

However, Morris probably realized the problem as well.

It's probably because there's a person or family in the magical world called "Black" who is very famous.

"Oh, don't overthink it," Morris replied calmly. "I'm from the Muggle side."

Fred and George breathed a sigh of relief almost simultaneously, leaning back in their chairs and relaxing.

"That's good." Fred grinned.

A hint of doubt flashed in Morris's silver-grey eyes. "Is there anything wrong with the surname Black in the wizarding world?"

The twin brothers looked at each other.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," George chimed in, waving his hand lightly. "It's just that in the wizarding world, some surnames... well... are rather unpleasant, you know. Like Malfoy..."

Perhaps thinking of the inherent humor in the surname, the two looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

This is the unspoken understanding between twins.

Morris said he didn't understand, but had no intention of investigating further.

It's probably due to the historical connections between wizarding families.

He had previously bought several miscellaneous books about wizarding history in Diagon Alley, and already had a general understanding of the wizarding world.

The origin of Morris's surname is rather ridiculous.

He grew up in an orphanage. Although he had his own consciousness at the time, children's thoughts are often confused.

He has forgotten how old he was when he started to have clear memories.

However, he heard from the caregiver at the time that his surname was obtained through a lottery.

Perhaps for fun, the caregiver at the time put a bunch of slips of paper with different names written on them in an old hat and let several nameless children in the orphanage take turns drawing them.

Morris was one of them.

This is the origin of the name "Maurice Black".

A rather uncommon name.

But it doesn't matter, he doesn't have any special feelings about his name.

It's just a code name.

At that moment, Lee Jordan's attention was drawn to the black cat on Morris's lap.

He pointed to the canned food and asked, "Did you buy your cat in Diagon Alley?"

Fred and George immediately turned their inquisitive gazes toward them as well.

They were interested in the cat from the start.

His eyes were vacant, and his aura was chilling.

This was their first impression of canned food.

The undead cat seemed to realize it was the center of attention, lazily lifting its eyelids. Its eerie eyes swept over Lee Jordan, who felt a chill run down his spine.

"No, it wasn't bought," Maurice shook his head. "It's just a stray cat we picked up."

This nonchalant answer elicited a look of disapproval from Lee Jordan.

"Hey buddy," he said with the air of someone who'd been there all along, "Muggle cats are pretty stupid. They can't do anything but eat and sleep. If you want a cat, you'd better go to the Magical Animals Shop in Diagon Alley. The cats there are much smarter; some can even help you find things or warn you of danger."

Fred and George nodded in agreement.

"Hmm..." Morris stroked his chin, "But my cat is very smart and can even perform acrobatics."

He put the can of food on the ground and solemnly commanded, "Good cat, do a split."

The canned food's eyes were instantly filled with an extremely anthropomorphic and undisguised contempt.

It even tilted its head slightly, as if questioning its owner about whether there was something wrong with their brain.

"What a waste," Morris clicked his tongue in disdain. "Fireworks are much better..."

The canned food immediately obediently performed a perfect split.

"!"

The other three were dumbfounded.