As Maurise and the two Weasleys were busy discussing the organization's name and various administrative details, a hesitant voice called out from the sidelines.
"Maurise... what exactly are you all talking about?"
Neville Longbottom was standing a few feet away, clutching a crystal ball to his chest and watching them with deep curiosity.
"Ah, perfect timing," Maurise reached out, slung an arm around Neville's shoulders, and steered him directly in front of the twins. "Allow me to introduce the fourth official member of our as-yet-unnamed organization. Let us give him a warm welcome."
The twins obligingly broke into enthusiastic applause.
Neville blinked rapidly, looking utterly bewildered.
Maurise gave him a highly condensed explanation of the organization's grand vision.
"I'll join," Neville agreed with almost zero hesitation. "I know you wouldn't trick me into anything bad, Maurise."
'What an incredibly pure-hearted boy.' Maurise felt a brief twinge of emotion. In all honesty, Neville currently possessed neither "grand ambition" nor "exceptional talent." His magical aptitude wasn't terrible, but compared to true prodigies, he appeared painfully ordinary.
However, Maurise simply enjoyed teasing the boy. That was reason enough to include him.
"Excellent," Maurise smiled warmly. "In that case, Neville, welcome to... The Explorers."
The name slipped out effortlessly. It carried no profound, hidden meaning. It was concise, straightforward, and perhaps a bit spontaneous.
"The Explorers. Doesn't sound particularly grandiose, does it?" Fred whispered.
"I like it," Maurise shot him a sideways glance.
Fred immediately stood at attention, grinning brightly. "You are the boss, Chief."
"So, what exactly am I supposed to do?" Neville asked cautiously. He hadn't truly grasped Maurise's grand speech about exploration, the future, and conquering the cosmos.
"Absolutely nothing," Maurise replied casually. "Just enjoy your summer holidays."
"Oh. Alright then."
---
After officially leaving the school grounds, Maurise headed straight for Knockturn Alley.
The moment Maurise stepped into the Bone & Sundries shop, Frick poked his head up from behind a cluttered pile of foul-smelling jars and flashed a wide grin.
"Ah, you have returned! How was another year at dear old Hogwarts, Maurise?"
Maurise casually set his heavy leather briefcase down on the counter. "It was acceptable," he replied concisely, casting a flat look at the shopkeeper. "You sound exactly like a doting parent welcoming their child home from primary school."
Frick shrugged unapologetically. "I certainly wouldn't mind adopting you, Maurise. Are you in the market for a new daddy?"
Maurise stared at him with absolute deadpan precision and enunciated a single word: "Leave."
Frick burst into a fit of booming laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye, he waved a dismissive hand. "Alright, alright. Down to business. The items you requested have arrived."
He reached under the counter and hauled out a flat, canvas-wrapped parcel, dropping it onto the wooden surface with a heavy thud. Untying the canvas revealed a massive stack of thick parchment and paper.
"A vast assortment of ship blueprints and nautical schematics," Frick clicked his tongue in admiration. "Mundungus Fletcher managed to scrounge all of this up in a mere two days. The man is completely useless at most things, but he is an absolute genius when it comes to acquiring obscure goods. He charged a hefty premium for the rush order, though."
Maurise quickly flipped through the stack. The variety of vessels detailed in the blueprints was far more chaotic and diverse than he had anticipated. However, it was perfectly adequate. He solely needed them for exterior aesthetic references anyway.
Watching Maurise's intensely focused expression, Frick's curiosity finally got the better of him. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Say, Maurise... what on earth do you need all these random ship schematics for? Do not tell me you are actually planning to build a boat."
Maurise looked up, a faint smile curling the corner of his mouth. "Something like that."
In truth, his reasoning for requesting the blueprints was incredibly straightforward: he was preparing to construct his secret base, and he fully intended to design its exterior architecture to resemble a magnificent ship.
Why a ship? That was an excellent question. Maurise wasn't entirely sure himself. Perhaps a part of him just really wanted to be addressed as "Captain" at some point in his life.
Gathering the blueprints, he turned toward the back room. "I am going to get some rest, Frick. See you tomorrow."
"Are you planning to reside here for the entire summer holiday again?" Frick asked.
Maurise paused and looked over his shoulder. "Is that a problem?"
Frick blinked in surprise before throwing his hands up in a welcoming gesture. "Of course not! As long as you pay your rent on time, you are always welcome. However, Madam Caroline sent word that she will be visiting in a few days, and you are currently occupying her usual room. Ah, well. I suppose Madam Caroline will just have to squeeze into my room for the time being..."
"Glad that is settled, then."
The sound of a door clicking shut echoed from the dim corridor. Maurise had a strong premonition that this particular summer was going to be exceptionally busy.
---
In the blink of an eye, over a month passed. It was now August.
Harry Potter was having a thoroughly miserable summer vacation.
At this very moment, he was sitting on a violently erratic magical vehicle known as the Knight Bus, hurtling aggressively toward Diagon Alley.
As for why he was currently on this bus... that was a highly distressing tale.
Just a short while ago, standing in the Dursleys' living room, he had accidentally inflated his Aunt Marge—who had been viciously insulting his parents—into a massive, floating human balloon.
It honestly wasn't his fault.
'What was the technical term again? Ah, right. Accidental magic,' Harry thought bitterly. Under normal circumstances, a wizard of his age rarely experienced bouts of accidental magic. Unless, of course, they were pushed to a state of absolute, blinding fury.
Suddenly, the Knight Bus slammed on its brakes with terrifying force, nearly launching Harry straight off his brass bedstead.
Someone else was apparently boarding.
"Where are you heading, sir?"
"Diagon Alley, please. Thank you."
"That will be eleven silver Sickles. But for thirteen, you get a cup of hot chocolate, and for fifteen..."
"Just the ride will do."
Harry thought the new passenger's voice sounded incredibly familiar. He instinctively looked up, peering through the dim, swinging lanterns of the bus.
The privacy curtain was pulled back. Harry blinked rapidly, convinced the erratic lighting was playing tricks on his eyes.
The person stepping into the aisle was none other than Maurise Black.
Maurise was equally surprised to encounter a familiar face in such an unlikely place. Spotting Harry, he paused for a brief second before striding confidently down the aisle and taking a seat on the bed directly adjacent to him.
"Would you care for a slice of cake? I just purchased it from a Muggle bakery."
As he spoke, Maurise performed a neat little magic trick, casually retrieving a porcelain plate holding an incredibly decadent slice of chocolate cake from the seemingly flat side pocket of his leather briefcase.
"No, thank you," Harry declined automatically. His stomach was currently in knots, and the entire situation felt incredibly surreal.
"Suit yourself."
Maurise produced a silver fork and began enjoying the cake himself without a second thought.
After swallowing two highly satisfying bites, he finally asked casually, "So, where exactly are you off to at this hour? I was under the impression you had a permanent summer residence."
Harry let out a heavy sigh. He was actually quite desperate to vent his recent trauma to a friend, hoping to glean a bit of comfort. He launched into a detailed recounting of the entire Aunt Marge inflation disaster.
After listening attentively to the story, Maurise looked genuinely perplexed. "Then why on earth do you continue to live there? You could easily reside in Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron rents out rooms year-round. If I recall correctly, you inherited a rather substantial fortune. You have more than enough Galleons to live comfortably in a hotel for the rest of your life."
Harry sighed again, his shoulders slumping. "Professor Dumbledore insists that I spend at least a portion of every summer at my aunt's house. He explained that it is directly tied to a powerful protective charm my mother left behind for me."
He remembered Dumbledore's strict instructions regarding the blood wards perfectly well.
"Ah, I see," Maurise nodded in understanding.
Magic frequently came attached with highly specific, bizarre preconditions. It was entirely par for the course.