My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Maurice immediately told Harry his thoughts.

"Sincere?" Harry was taken aback. "You mean... I should go directly to Snape and say—Professor, why do you hate me?"

Just imagining that scene sent chills down Harry's spine.

How would Snape react?

A colder mockery?

Deduct 50 points from Gryffindor?

Or would you stare at him with those eyes that could freeze a person to death, and then utter even more vicious words?

"Don't be fooled by Morris," Ron whispered a warning from the side. "It sounds like he's trying to scam you."

Harry nodded.

He agreed with Ron's opinion.

Seeing this, Morris shook his head with some regret. "What a pity. If it were me, I would have asked them directly."

He wasn't lying; if a professor clearly expressed his dislike for him, he would immediately go and ask why.

His approach is to clarify misunderstandings as soon as possible, and to find ways to resolve them even if there are no misunderstandings.

But since Harry doesn't want to, there's nothing that can be done.

After all, everyone has a different personality.

He can't force others.

After chatting for a while, it was almost noon.

"See you at the library this afternoon," Ron said before leaving, adding, "Remember to bring your Potions homework."

"Thank you for your homework," Harry added.

"You're welcome." Morris waved his hand and watched them disappear around the corner of the corridor.

Now, he plans to go to his dorm to practice magic for a while.

Just as he was about to turn and leave.

Meow~

The can that jumped onto his shoulder poked his cheek with its paw.

"What's wrong?" Morris asked, turning his head.

Canned food pointed to the stone beast statue next to him.

It was a statue about the same height as Hagrid, standing quietly beside the corridor.

"Is there something there?"

Morris understood the meaning of the canned food and immediately went around to the back of the statue.

In the shadows, a tall, thin, dark figure leaned quietly against the wall, arms crossed, eyes closed, seemingly resting.

That person was the one they had just been discussing.

Professor Snape.

Morris paused.

He didn't know when Snape had arrived there.

But their conversation just now was most likely overheard.

Just as he was hesitating whether to slip away quietly or say hello (after all, the other person was a professor), Snape opened his eyes and locked his gaze on him precisely.

"Hello, Professor."

Morris nodded politely in acknowledgment.

He didn't intend to linger and immediately prepared to turn around and leave.

"Halt, Mr. Black," Snape said, his voice calm and unreadable.

"Is there something you need?" Morris asked directly, his attitude frank.

Unlike Harry, he wasn't particularly afraid of Snape.

Besides, he didn't say anything inappropriate just now.

Several students were commenting on their professor in private—which, in his view, was perfectly normal.

If a professor gets angry over such a trivial matter, then he is being far too petty.

Snape stared at Maurice, his eyes sharp as knives.

“I heard you perfectly well,” he said slowly, taking a small step forward, the shadows following him. “You just said you were going to lend your homework to your classmate? Ah, you’re so generous, Mr. Black.”

Upon hearing this, Maurice replied without changing his expression, "You misheard, Professor."

He had completely forgotten about this matter.

The other party is a professor; it would be unwise to engage in nefarious homework deals in front of a professor.

"I'm sure my hearing is fine," Snape said coldly, raising an eyebrow. "Ravenclaw, deduct ten points."

"Can I struggle a little?"

"No," Snape sneered. "I remind you, if Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley did the same homework as you, they would each earn twenty points for Gryffindor."

"I understand, Professor."

Morris sighed.

It seems he won't be able to help Harry and Ron with their homework.

At least not in Potions class.

"Very wise."

Snape nodded in satisfaction.

Then he saw Morris pull a rather ordinary-looking notebook and a quill pen from his pocket.

"What are you going to do?"

This abrupt behavior puzzled him.

Morris opened his notebook, his expression serious. "Professor, I happen to have a few questions about Potions. Since you've taken the initiative to speak with me, I thought I'd take this opportunity to ask you some."

Snape raised his eyebrows, suddenly feeling a bit absurd.

This student had just lost ten points in the academy and was threatened by him, yet he actually took out his notebook in a serious manner and said he wanted to ask about potions.

Is this just thick-skinned, or some kind of way to change the subject?

Incidentally, he remembered the name "Maurice Black".

In his Potions class, Maurice always managed to complete all the exercises perfectly.

For this reason, he also gave Ravenclaw a lot of extra points.

Of course, he had already confirmed it—Maurice was not a member of the "Black" family he had imagined.

"Mr. Black," Snape asked coldly, "do you think now is the right time to discuss academic matters?"

Morris was taken aback. "Is that not allowed?"

Snape snorted and did not answer.

The attitude is self-evident.

"Alright." Morris closed his notebook with a hint of regret.

He had assumed that the professors at Hogwarts were happy to answer students' questions.

It seems that this is not the case now.

Perhaps Snape's image would be downgraded by a notch in his eyes.

Also, this is no joke; he has indeed accumulated quite a few questions about potions—the more he studies potions, the more questions arise.

There was no other way but to go back and bother the upperclassmen Ravenclaw he knew.

"Then goodbye, Professor Snape." Morris turned to leave.

"etc!"

Morris turned around and found Snape staring at him expressionlessly.

"If you really have any questions to ask," he said, "ask now."

Morris blinked, somewhat surprised by the sudden permission.

It seems his feeling was right—this professor named Snape wasn't a bad person to his students.

He just has a bit of an eccentric temper, and he's especially strict with Harry Potter.

"Thank you, Professor."

Morris happily opened his notebook. "I don't have many questions. First, about the role of porcupine quills in the softener... then about the properties of fig peel... and..."

He asked several questions in a row, forcing Snape to interrupt him.

"Let me see your notebook."

Snape's voice abruptly interrupted Maurice's question.

Morris obediently handed over the notebook, his face showing no guilt or hesitation.

"..."

Snape silently flipped through the notebook.

Gradually, a look of undisguised surprise appeared on his face.

The questions on the laptop were numerous and varied, but most of them were simple.

But that's not the point.

The key point is that even he could feel the writer's passion for potions between the lines.

The other party is genuinely serious about Potions!

Keep in mind that Maurice had only been at Hogwarts for a little over a month.

In other words, he only had a short time to learn about potions.

Such enthusiasm was extremely rare in his long teaching career.

He's just like... himself back then.