My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

“Seriously,” Morris said, wiping the pedestal of the “First Annual Wizarding Joke Contest” trophy in his hands, looking up as he asked, “why don’t you use magic? Cleanse—I think that spell would work perfectly.”

"Professor Flitwick calls this 'labor reflection'," Fred said, shrugging. "Besides, these trophies are enchanted; cleansing spells don't work on them."

It turned out to be the case.

He didn't have much resistance to this kind of labor—he was already used to it when he was in the orphanage.

However, the number of trophies here is truly staggering, covering several entire walls.

Moreover, some of the trophies were awarded inexplicably.

For example, the lame joke contest in Maurice's hands.

The winner's name was written on it: Lily Evans.

After working for nearly half an hour, the three of them threw the rags aside and leaned against the wall to rest for a while.

Fred turned to look at Maurice and suddenly said, "Maurice, I think you must have something else to discuss with us."

"I guessed so," George agreed, "and you're definitely up to no good."

"I didn't expect you to see me that way," Morris said with a feigned hurt expression. "I just wanted to ask you a rather strange question."

"What is it?" Fred and George asked, intrigued.

"I'm thinking..." Maurice said with a very serious expression, "Is there any way for a wizard to enter a very realistic state of suspended animation?"

"It's not a simple coma or sleep; it's a state that, from both magical and physical perspectives, is infinitely close to death, yet the person can return under predetermined conditions or at a predetermined time."

The twins exchanged a glance.

"The Water of Life and Death!" the two blurted out in unison.

"The Water of Life and Death," Maurice repeated. "Is it some kind of magic potion?"

“Yes,” Fred replied, “the Potion of Life and Death, also known as the Hellfire Elixir, is a magical potion that can put someone into a state similar to death. After a large dose, your pulse will almost stop, and your body will become cold and stiff. But in reality, it’s just a deep sleep.”

George added, "We haven't used it, but a skilled wizard would certainly be able to tell that it's not real death."

"I see," Morris nodded.

Although I don't know if it will work as expected, it's worth a try.

Fred scratched his head, somewhat confused. "So, Maurice, why are you asking this?"

"Just out of curiosity," Maurice chuckled. "I want to experience what death feels like."

He wasn't lying, and that was one of his purposes.

The twins looked at each other again, and both saw the same thought in each other's eyes—

I don't understand, but I respect it.

Although Maurice is a freshman, he is still a Ravenclaw, so it's reasonable for him to have some weird and eccentric ideas.

"Can you buy the Water of Life and Death in Diagon Alley?" Morris then asked.

His financial situation isn't good, and hopefully this potion won't be too expensive.

Fred shook his head. "That's no ordinary cold medicine, Morris. The Water of Life and Death is a controlled substance by the Ministry of Magic; both buying and selling it requires a special permit."

"I guessed so," Morris said, having anticipated this. "So, do you know the recipe? And how difficult is it to prepare?"

"All I know is that its ingredients are daffodil root powder and artemisia infusion," Fred said. "Because that's all our textbooks mention, and yours is the same. But I imagine the actual recipe and steps must be far more complicated and extremely dangerous—not something a first-year student should be doing—"

He wanted to say that it wasn't something a first-year student should try, but when he thought of Maurice, who kept the giant spider as a pet, he swallowed the rest of his words.

"Perhaps you could try looking for the recipe in the library," George said. "It might be in the regular section, or maybe the restricted section? Give it a try."

"I will take that into consideration, thank you," Morris said gratefully.

He immediately turned around and headed to the library to find information.

Of course, this only applies to ordinary areas.

The restricted area can only be entered with a professor's permission, and professors don't just give permission to freshmen who have only been enrolled for a short time.

"Wait a minute," Fred called out to him.

"What's wrong?"

Morris turned around in confusion and found a rag thrown into his hand.

"At least help us clean the trophy," Fred said with a grin.

......

At noon, after having lunch, Maurice set off for the library.

Just as he stepped out of the auditorium, the canned food suddenly jumped down from the eaves and circled around him.

The silly cat had disappeared somewhere; its fur was covered with a few blades of grass and some suspicious, shiny slime, and its head was wet.

Where did you go?

Meow~~

Morris was a little disgusted and used several cleansing spells on it before he could hold it in his arms.

The canned food purred contentedly and nuzzled his chin with its head.

In recent days, his two pets have been mostly away from him.

Fireworks comes back every night, but Canned Food is almost always missing; no one knows what trouble it's gotten into outside.

Holding the cat, Maurice walked to the library entrance.

As soon as he entered, a man with a serious expression stopped him.

She is Irma Pines, the librarian at Hogwarts.

Mrs. Pince stared at the can of food in Morris's arms and said coldly, "Sir, pets are not allowed in the library."

"No problem, madam."

Morris obediently put down the can.

The black cat, with remarkable intelligence, pushed open the door with its head, darted out like a shadow, and disappeared behind the door.

"That's fine," Mrs. Pince said with a very faint smile. "Go in, but be careful not to damage any books or make any noise."

This was Maurice's first time in a library. He looked around and found it to be incredibly large, bigger than any library he had ever seen, which must have been achieved through some kind of space-expanding magic.

Towering bookshelves stood in the dim light, piled high with books. The air was thick with the distinctive smell of parchment and ink, creating a heavy, somber atmosphere.

It's a nice place, he thought.

Because it was the weekend, the place was very crowded.

The desks were almost completely occupied, and the aisles between the bookshelves were bustling with students, mostly older students.

What bothered Morris the most was that there was an area next door enclosed by an iron fence.

Restricted Book Section.

Through the railing, Morris could still see a familiar figure—Robert Hilliard.

The Ravenclaw prefect was looking down at a tattered notebook.

He seemed to sense the gaze, looked up, and met Morris's eyes.

Robert was taken aback at first, then smiled slightly, closed the book in his hand, stepped over the iron gate, and walked up to Maurice.

"Good afternoon, Morris," he said gently.

"Hello, Prefect Robert," Morris greeted him in return.