My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Professor McGonagall led Maurice through several heavy doors to an empty room in front of the Great Hall.

She said, "We'll wait here; the other new students will arrive soon."

Morris looked around curiously. Two suits of armor beside him were moving their shoulders, their joints making a clicking sound.

"Professor, are we going to have the Sorting Ceremony later?" he asked casually.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall replied succinctly.

"So how do we choose a college that suits us?"

You'll find out soon enough.

"How's Gryffindor? I've heard it's a good house."

"Gryffindor is indeed very good," Professor McGonagall said, a hint of pride barely perceptible in her voice, as she adjusted her glasses. "But every house has its unique strengths."

"Really?" Maurice noticed Professor McGonagall's movement and suddenly a question occurred to him. "By the way... you're wearing glasses. Can wizards become nearsighted?"

"Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall finally sighed, "you ask too many questions."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Morris obediently shut his mouth and turned his gaze back to the armor beside him.

A moment later, the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard outside.

The door in front of me was knocked on three times.

Immediately afterwards, the man named Hagrid, whom Morris had seen earlier, walked in first, followed by the freshmen.

"Everyone's here, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid's booming voice echoed through the room.

Professor McGonagall nodded slightly at him.

At that moment, Hagrid noticed Maurice standing next to Professor McGonagall and looked puzzled. "Who's that? Professor McGonagall, is he a freshman?"

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said seriously, "Regarding this matter, I think I need to remind you, Hagrid, that as the person in charge of welcoming the new students, you didn't even notice that a student was missing from the line."

Hagrid's bearded face immediately turned red.

He mumbled, "I didn't notice."

Being criticized by the vice principal in front of freshmen is obviously not a pleasant experience.

Maurice, the culprit, silently apologized to himself.

"Go back to the group, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall nudged Morris.

Morris silently walked to the very back of the line.

During that time, almost all the freshmen looked at him with curiosity.

He also spotted the girl named Hermione Granger in the group; she seemed to be glaring at him.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and began, "First of all, welcome to Hogwarts..."

She gave a brief introduction to the college sorting ceremony, asked the students to wait there for a moment, and then went into the auditorium.

The students started chattering excitedly.

Hermione squeezed through the crowd to Maurice and asked earnestly, "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in the line."

"Ah," Morris said, surprised that someone would strike up a conversation with him. "It's probably too dark outside, so you didn't see me. I'm right at the back."

"Then why are you so much faster than us?" Hermes found it a bit strange.

A difficult guy.

Morris shrugged. "I got lost in the courtyard; I came through the side door."

This explanation was clearly full of flaws, and Hermione was about to press for more information when Professor McGonagall returned.

"Line up in a row," she said. "Follow me."

Everyone quieted down and immediately did as instructed, quickly forming a line.

Morris and Hermione naturally fell to the back of the group.

The line began to move slowly forward.

They passed through the massive oak doors and entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

"Hmm, not bad." Morris looked around curiously.

The room resembled a grand, old-fashioned chapel, with long tables from the four houses arranged neatly, adorned with gleaming gold cutlery. At the very front were the professors' seats, all already occupied, and the long-bearded old man in the center was presumably Dumbledore.

Looking up, hundreds of candles floated above the auditorium, providing ample lighting.

Above that was a deep night sky, with countless stars twinkling.

But that was about it; Morris didn't feel particularly shocked.

In his previous life, he had seen many more awe-inspiring scenes—the power of technology.

However, something still caught his attention.

Those were—the illusory, silver-gray figures hidden among the four long tables.

ghost!

This was the first time Maurice had ever seen a living ghost.

As a mediocre necromancer, he was immediately drawn to the floating spirits.

Hermione noticed his focused gaze and explained in a low voice, "Those are the ghosts of Hogwarts. I read about them in 'Hogwarts: A History of the School.' They've been here for a long time."

However, Maurice did not respond, completely absorbed in his own world.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Hermione said, annoyed.

"Oh, sorry, could you say that again?"

"No!"

Looking at the sullen girl beside him, Morris felt a little confused.

Children's minds are really hard to understand.

While they waited, Professor McGonagall brought over a stool and placed a tattered hat on it.

After that, the tattered hat sang a strange song.

"When I call someone's name, that person should put on their hat, sit on the stool, and await sorting."

"Hannah Abbott!"

With Professor McGonagall's announcement, the Sorting Ceremony officially began.

"So this is the sorting method," Maurice thought, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

If this hat could read other people's minds, wouldn't his identity as a time traveler be at risk of being discovered?

That won't do.

Morris narrowed his eyes.

We must be careful.

If all else fails, he'll use wailing curses to turn his brain into mush, which should temporarily avert the risk.

"Maurice Black".

Finally, my name was called.

A murmur rippled through the auditorium—perhaps because of the surname.

Morris walked forward calmly, sat down, and put the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Hmm..." a voice sounded in his ear, "Relax, child, or it will affect my judgment."

Morris tried to empty his mind—not a difficult thing for someone skilled in meditation like him.

"..."

After a ten-second silence.

"Are you really relaxed?" the Sorting Hat's voice rang out again. "That's strange... why can't I see anything? Are you stupid?"

The hat seemed a little confused and shifted uneasily on Morris's head.

Whispers began to fill the auditorium—this was the student who had spent the most time in the department that day.

Hearing the Sorting Hat's words, Maurice felt a little relieved.

"Mr. Hat," he responded in his mind, "please refrain from personal attacks, thank you. If possible, please assign me to any college."

"That won't do!" The Sorting Hat's voice turned serious. "Hmm... in that case... the choice is obvious..."

"Ravenclaw!"

A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted at the Ravenclaw table.

On the Gryffindor table, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan wore expressions of regret.