My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Quidditch is a great game—that's what Morris would say.

But in reality, he had no idea what was happening on the field.

At that moment, he finally understood why most of the students around him were carrying binoculars.

"Look!" Cho Chang exclaimed excitedly, holding up his binoculars. "Harry Potter is breaking through! They're going to... Oh, too bad, he's been stopped by the Blink Dagger."

"..."

Morris didn't speak. He only saw red and green colliding in the air and then quickly scattering, making it impossible to tell who was who.

He could barely recognize the smallest of them, Harry Potter.

Is this Quidditch?

Sure enough, he didn't really enjoy watching these kinds of matches.

But perhaps taking the stage personally would be a different story?

He might give it a try if he has the chance in the future.

The usually quiet Cho Chang seemed like a different person when watching Quidditch matches, becoming extremely active and acting as a part-time commentator for Maurice and Marietta.

"Hmm, Slytherin's Seeker made a beautiful feint! Ah, he missed."

Cho Chang suddenly put down her binoculars, turned to Maurice, and said, "Wonderful, isn't it?"

Her eyes sparkled, and she looked a little excited. "I've watched the Quidditch World Cup with my dad before, and that's a real spectacle. Even high-difficulty moves like the Lansky feint can be done easily by those professional players. You must go see it if you have the chance."

Morris didn't know what the Lansky feint was, but...

"Uh..." He pointed to a figure in mid-air and asked hesitantly, "What kind of feint is that?"

"What's wrong?"

Qiu Zhang picked up the binoculars and looked in the direction he was pointing.

Harry Potter was gripping his broom, twisting and twitching violently in the air, as if riding a bull in heat.

He even spun around in the air several times, each time turning 360 degrees.

"That's strange," Qiu Zhang frowned and pondered for a moment, then said uncertainly, "Could it be a new tactic? To... to attract the enemy's attention? To disrupt their line of sight?"

Morris nodded thoughtfully.

Makes sense.

Look at the Slytherin line; several people have already stopped what they were doing and are staring intently at Harry, who is dancing in the air.

"That's brilliant tactic," Morris thought.

But the thought only lasted a short while.

Because Harry was out of control for a full five minutes high in the air.

In those five minutes, after the Slytherin players reacted, they scored an unknown number of goals.

The stands were filled with whispers, and many people even stood up.

What exactly is going on?

Finally, Harry suddenly stopped his bizarre dance moves and made a long downward dive.

Morris could clearly see a golden light flash past him.

Then, Harry landed on the pitch, almost rolling down, landing on all fours.

Although the posture was a bit awkward, but...

"I've caught the Snitch!" Harry shouted, raising his right hand high above his head.

With the whistle blowing and commentator Lee Jordan's passionate announcement, the game ended.

Gryffindor's victory.

Upon seeing this, Morris nodded in admiration.

Harry, you bastard.

Pretend that your broom has gone out of control to lower the guard of all your enemies, then seize the opportunity to capture the Golden Thief in one fell swoop.

Is this your purpose?

Sure enough, the savior is quite capable.

If it were him, he couldn't have made such a dangerous dive.

Qiu Zhang, seemingly still in a daze, muttered, "What kind of tactic is this...?"

Although Harry caught the Golden Snitch, she still felt that something was off.

......

After the Quidditch match ended, Maurice had intended to congratulate Harry.

But as soon as the match ended, Harry pulled Hermione and Ron away in another direction, their destination likely Hagrid's hut or the Forbidden Forest.

Therefore, Maurice had no choice but to return to the castle alone.

"Awooo—Awooo—"

As we approached the castle, familiar calls came from not far away.

He followed the sound to the side of the castle, looked up, and saw a black figure—no, no, there were two figures.

In mid-air, a jet-black owl was flapping its wings, its two claws gripping a...cat?

The cat was twisting and turning frantically, but it couldn't break free.

The scene seemed somewhat eerie.

But Morris was already used to it.

Because these are his two pets, the Undead Cat Canned Food and the Undead Owl Fireworks.

The bird and cat wobbled and spun in the air before landing in front of Morris.

Calling it a landing is actually a bit inappropriate.

Because the canned food was roughly thrown down by the fireworks.

"Meow—"

The black cat let out a shrill scream in the air, rolled twice on the grass before regaining its footing, and bared its teeth at the owl still hanging in mid-air.

The firework gracefully folded its wings, landed on the low fence beside it, shook itself, and angrily turned its head to the side.

Morris sighed. "Silly cat, did you mess with the fireworks again? How many times have I told you, no fighting!"

These two pets are such a headache—especially the canned food.

Upon hearing Morris's words, the canned food immediately wilted and let out two whimpers.

To be honest, it didn't do anything to provoke that bird of prey.

It was just that the other person was dozing off in a low tree by the river when, on a whim, they dragged it and the branch into the river.

Isn't this a perfect opportunity to take a shower?

Although the river water is a bit cold, we are all undead creatures and we are not afraid of the cold, so why are we so angry?

Of course, Morris was unaware of these details.

Based solely on his experience, he concluded that it was most likely the canned food that caused the problem first.

Just as he was about to give a few more words of advice, Fireworks suddenly turned its head toward the direction from which Maurice had come and let out a short cry.

Upon hearing this, the canned food immediately stopped whimpering, arched its back, its fur bristled slightly, and turned in the same direction.

This is a state of alert.

Morris's heart skipped a beat, and he followed their gaze.

Three figures emerged from around the corner.

It was Draco Malfoy, along with his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle.

Seeing this, Maurice breathed a sigh of relief.

Judging from the reactions of the two pets just now, he thought he was about to encounter some kind of monster.

Like centaurs, three-headed dogs, and trolls.

Fortunately, it was just three students passing by.

He put aside his thoughts and decided to bypass them and leave.

However, Draco and his two companions moved in perfect unison, blocking his path.

"Don't be in such a hurry to leave," Draco said, raising his chin in a malicious smile. "Aren't you going to apologize for what you did earlier?"

Morris was stunned.

Apologize?

What did he do?

If you're referring to what happened in the stands—he was the one who had his book stolen, so wasn't he the victim?

"I don't understand what you mean," Morris said truthfully.