My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Chapter 364 A Trivial Matter

Morris randomly selected a few spells to demonstrate.

The Frost Arrow fires an ice spike, while the Magic Missile launches a series of small projectiles.

Most other magic spells are similar little tricks, not very powerful, and can even be considered useless.

In fact, the chain lightning spell that Morris demonstrated at the beginning was already the most powerful spell among them.

After they had thoroughly ravaged the dummy, everyone was dumbfounded.

Neville hesitated before asking, "Do...do we have to learn all of these spells?"

"I never asked for that," Morris chuckled, leaning back on the sofa and waving his hand. "I'm just sharing these spells; you can learn them if you want."

Fred rubbed his hands together, eagerly saying, "Let's begin."

He once again focused his mental energy on the beginner's magic manual on the table.

The group practiced magic all day.

As Morris had said before, these spells are not difficult.

Having previously learned the fireball technique, Fred and George easily mastered most of it. Although its power did not yet reach Morris's level, it was already quite impressive.

It will probably take some time for them to get used to playing with Neville and Kyle.

However, they have been meditating, so it probably doesn't take much time.

Everything is on track.

As darkness fell, the group gradually left the ship in the bottle, leaving only Maurice behind.

"Champion, cook!"

Morris called out.

He was too lazy to go to the auditorium for a meal again.

The champion's skills are just as good as those of a pet Pokémon.

Morris had previously given the other party a mysterious recipe from the East, but he didn't know how well the other party was learning it.

Upon receiving the order, the champion immediately went into the kitchen.

Before long, he brought out several plates, four dishes and a soup, all of which looked, smelled, and tasted delicious, and were much better presented than Morris had expected.

"Not bad."

Morris enjoyed his food while flipping through the beginner's magic encyclopedia.

This was something he came up with on a whim, and it seems to be doing quite well.

These spells do not require wands, are cast discreetly, and consume very little energy. In real combat, these advantages are sometimes more important than sheer destructive power.

While these spells might not be of much use to Maurice, equipping Fred and the others with them would greatly enhance their ability to protect themselves.

This is especially important in the current environment of social unrest.

These basic types of magic are enough; now it's time to research more powerful magic.

Morris closed his notebook, leaned back in his chair, and fell into deep thought.

His imagination was not lacking, but it was not limitless either; the inspiration for his magic mostly came from his previous life.

Yes, they are all combat-type magic.

It's getting a bit boring.

Perhaps he could try a different approach.

Treatment? Or control?

Two weeks have passed in the blink of an eye.

Morris's research is progressing relatively smoothly. Although no complete spell model has been constructed, at least several promising directions have emerged.

One evening, after a long day of research, Maurice stepped out of the ship in the bottle and headed towards the castle.

The surface of Black Lake shimmers like an oil painting.

On the way, he ran into Harry and Ron.

The two were walking towards the greenhouse, playfully bickering. Harry was holding a wriggling plant in his hand, while Ron was keeping his distance, looking disgusted.

"What's that?" Maurice asked casually as he walked with them toward the castle.

"Stinky weed." Harry held up the writhing plant, and an indescribable odor immediately hit him, somewhat like moldy cheese.

"Professor Sprout asked us to help move it to the classroom on the fourth floor," Ron explained from the side. "The professor originally asked Neville for help, but for some reason, he didn't come to class today."

He had barely finished speaking.

"I am coming!"

Neville ran quickly from the direction of the castle, stopped in front of the three, and leaned on his knees, panting heavily.

Morris noticed a faint scar on his face.

"Neville, what's wrong?" Harry shoved the stinky grass into Ron's arms and stepped forward.

He had clearly noticed that something was wrong with Neville.

Neville caught his breath, straightened up, and said haltingly, "They were Slytherin. They stopped me in the hallway and said some... very nasty things."

"What!?" Ron's eyes widened. "Who bullied you? I'll get revenge for you!"

Neville scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed, and said, "I chased them all away. But Professor McGonagall saw them, so it took a little longer."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance.

Ron asked tentatively, "How did you do that?"

Neville glanced at Maurice, hesitated for a moment, and said, "My magic is stronger than theirs."

Just that simple sentence.

Ron's mouth dropped open. "That's incredible, uh, I mean... you're amazing."

In his eyes, Neville was just an ordinary student who had never shown any amazing talent.

Morris stared at his face, frowned, and asked, "Are you injured?"

Neville touched the wound on his face that had already healed, looking a little embarrassed. "I bumped into it because I was walking too fast. I used the potion you gave me, and it's almost healed."

Morris was speechless.

His younger brother was being bullied, and he originally wanted to stand up for him.

Now it seems he didn't need to meddle at all; Neville was capable of handling these messes.

Harry pressed on, "Did Professor McGonagall punish you?"

"Yes," Neville sighed, a hint of helplessness in his voice, "after all, they used magic in the corridor and got into a fight. But Slytherin and the others lost more points."

"That's good news." Ron freed one hand and patted Neville on the shoulder. "Well done."

Neville was a little embarrassed, his face flushing slightly.

He finally noticed the foul-smelling grass in Ron's hand.

"Ah! Sorry! Give me the grass, I'll take care of it."

Neville quickly reached out to catch the writhing, foul-smelling grass.

After Ron handed it over, the stinking grass suddenly jerked and slipped from Neville's hand, falling to the ground.

The flowerpot shattered, soil splattered everywhere, and a foul stench instantly erupted.

"Cough, cough, cough—" Ron was the first to be choked by the fumes and took several steps back, tears welling up in his eyes.

Morris sighed.

Even though he's quite strong, Neville acts rather clumsy.

I wonder when I'll be a little more quick-witted.

After cleaning up the scene, Neville left first with the stinking grass.

Morris, Harry, and Ron continued toward the castle.

By this time, it was completely dark.