Since it was a blessed day off from classes, Morris decided after carefully putting away his newly acquired Galleons to spend the entire day lounging lazily in the comfortable privacy of his Ravenclaw dormitory.
The rain continued its steady drumming against the tower windows, creating a soothing background rhythm that made the warm, dry room feel even more tempting by contrast. Perfect weather for staying indoors.
Morris settled into his bed with the pile of books he had borrowed from the library over the past week, pulling a warm blanket over his legs and propping himself against his pillows in a position of maximum comfort.
Reading always brought him a profound sense of peace and tranquility that few other activities could match.
After spending perhaps an hour working through a text on Transfiguration theory, Morris decided to check on:
"The Mage's Book,"
With a subtle shift in his consciousness, the phantom image of that mysterious book slowly appeared in his mind.
Turning mentally to the last page with ease, Morris immediately noticed something new and felt a surge of excited anticipation.
New content had appeared since he'd last checked!
His spirits lifted considerably, and he immediately began skimming through the fresh material with eager attention.
The new content that appeared in The Mage's Book this time was extraordinarily complex and far more substantial than previous additions. It wasn't simply a single new spell or a magic circle ritual to study, but rather an entire comprehensive discipline of magical study.
"Runes"—that was the simple title of this new chapter.
The main content consisted of various magical runes presented in careful detail. The symbols were somewhat similar in general concept to the ancient runic script taught at Hogwarts in third year as an elective—a kind of strange symbolic language resembling written characters but imbued with inherent magical properties.
Each rune represented a different specific meaning, concept, or force. And when properly inscribed on a suitable medium and then infused with magical power following the correct procedure, each could produce distinctly different magical effects of remarkable potency.
The runes filled more than a dozen densely packed pages. Morris did a preliminary count, roughly two to three hundred distinct runes were documented here.
It was an overwhelming amount of new information.
To properly harness the latent power contained within these runes, Morris learned from the introductory text, one had to correctly and stably inscribe the desired rune onto some kind of physical medium—wood, metal, stone, bone, or other materials each with their own properties and affinities.
Then, following inscription, magical power had to be carefully infused into the completed rune to activate its effect.
This "inscription" process didn't refer to traditional physical carving with tools or instruments.
Rather, the technique meant using one's spiritual force and focused will as a precise guide, mentally transforming raw magical power into an invisible carving blade of pure energy, then using this ephemeral tool to etch the rune directly onto the chosen medium.
It was an advanced technique that required significant mental discipline and magical control.
Practice makes perfect, Morris reminded himself, reciting the old wisdom.
Morris carefully selected one of the most common and fundamental runes documented in the new chapter—"Flame,".
He decided to attempt inscribing this rune on his water cup sitting on his bedside table that he used daily for drinking water or occasional tea.
What would the result be when he successfully activated it?
A cup that shoots jets of fire when triggered? Or perhaps one that automatically heats its contents?
However, thirty minutes later, Morris found himself staring with irritation at the completely motionless water cup sitting innocently before him on his desk, showing no sign of magical inscription or effect.
He rubbed his forehead with both hands, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache forming from the intense concentration.
Transforming magical power into a stable carving blade of pure energy—it sounded simple when described in the Mage's Book's text. But in actual practice, Morris was discovering, the technique was incredibly difficult to execute properly.
Although after long periods of dedicated meditation training over the past months, he could now sense his own magical power, he was still quite far from being able to precisely control that raw energy with the fine manipulation this technique required.
Sensing power was one thing. Shaping it, directing it, forcing it to maintain a specific form while simultaneously using it to inscribe intricate patterns, that was an entirely different and far more challenging skill.
Thus, in the days that followed that initial frustrating attempt, Morris pragmatically added a new task to his daily routine: dedicated practice of rune inscription technique.
This was clearly a skill that required considerable time and persistent effort to mature, not something that could be mastered in a single afternoon of enthusiastic experimentation.
Patience and steady practice would be essential.
The first Friday of February arrived, bringing with it clear morning light that gushed through the Ravenclaw tower windows.
The new term had already passed a full month since students had returned from Christmas holiday.
After literally countless attempts over those weeks of hundreds of failures, gradual improvements in technique, slowly increasing success rate, Morris finally achieved a genuine breakthrough.
He successfully inscribed his very first functional rune on his long-suffering water cup: "Levitation," a relatively simple rune that should grant the inscribed object the ability to hover and float.
The sense of accomplishment was deeply satisfying.
However, Morris's pride and excitement were somewhat dampened by what happened immediately afterward.
The magical effect proved to be extremely unstable and poorly controlled in its execution.
After Morris carefully infused the completed rune with magical power to activate it, the cup initially responded exactly as hoped—it rose smoothly into the air in the center of the dormitory, levitating at about chest height with a faint silver glow emanating from the inscribed symbol.
Success! Or so Morris thought for approximately three seconds.
Then the cup suddenly accelerated without warning, shooting horizontally across the room like it had been fired from a cannon. It smashed directly into the stone wall with a sharp, loud "CRACK!" that echoed through the dormitory, shattering instantly into dozens of ceramic pieces that fell to the floor in a rain of broken fragments.
Its total survival time as a functional magical item was approximately ten seconds from activation to destruction.
Morris gazed at the cup's scattered remains littering his floor with a mixture of disappointment and resigned acceptance, then shook his head helplessly.
Clearly, his research into runes and their practical application still had a very long way to go before he could claim anything approaching mastery or reliability.
But it was progress.
He stretched lazily, working out the stiffness from hours of hunched concentration, and casually glanced at the clock on the dormitory wall.
His eyes widened slightly with surprise when he registered the time.
The hour hand already pointed at ten o'clock in the morning.
It seemed he had become far too absorbed in his rune research and experimentation, completely losing track of time. He had already missed more than half of the morning's scheduled class without even noticing the passage of hours.
What class was supposed to be happening this morning, anyway?
Morris thought back through his mental schedule, trying to remember what he was missing.
Oh. Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.
Well then, Morris thought with a shrug, never mind continuing to worry about it now.
He simply chose to skip the remainder of class completely and continue his research into runes.
At noon, when the lunch period began and students flooded the corridors on their way to the Great Hall, Morris walked slowly and somewhat sheepishly out of Professor McGonagall's stern office.
His ears were still slightly ringing from the lecture.
Even though he had explained that he missed Transfiguration class because he was too deeply absorbed in magical research, he had still received ten house points deducted from Ravenclaw for the offense of skipping class without prior permission.
Additionally, he'd endured a stern twenty-minute lecture from Professor McGonagall about responsibility, the importance of attendance, setting proper priorities, and respecting the educational structure that existed for students' benefit.
No helping it, really.
After such a long time of regular interaction and observation, Morris had roughly figured out each professor's personality, teaching style, and disciplinary tendencies.
If it had been Professor Flitwick discovering the absence, he most likely wouldn't have deducted points for missing class due to magical research.
If it had been Professor Snape, he almost certainly wouldn't have deducted points either, though his response would have been more sarcastic and cutting, probably involving some sharp comment about "Ravenclaws thinking they're too clever for arranged education" before dismissing Morris with a wave.
In the corridor outside McGonagall's office, Morris immediately pulled out a small wooden block from his robe pocket.
He began attempting to inscribe the "Levitation" rune on its surface while walking casually toward the Great Hall.
Through an entire morning of intensive, focused practice, Morris now felt quite confident in his inscription technique.
When the last stroke of the rune fell into place completing the complex symbol, the wooden block glowed faintly with a brief pulse of silver light.
The glow faded quickly, leaving behind a somewhat exquisite silver-gray symbol etched into the wood's surface.
Very smooth—success on the first try.
Morris nodded with satisfaction at his improved skill, then carefully infused the completed rune with a amount of magical power to activate its effect.
This time, unlike the previous cup that had shot across the room and destroyed itself, the wooden block didn't suddenly accelerate or shoot out of his hand with uncontrolled force.
It simply rose smoothly and calmly, hovering in mid-air about a foot above his open palm, bobbing very gently up and down as if floating on invisible water.
Seeing this successful result, Morris was thoughtful.
After an entire morning of research and experimentation, testing different variations and comparing outcomes, he had more or less understood a fundamental principle of rune magic.
Although the runes were all categorized under the same name like "Levitation"—even the slightest variation in the exact form of the rune, the tiniest change in line thickness or angle or proportion, would produce completely different effects in practice.
Theoretically speaking, just this one single "Levitation" rune alone had nearly countless possible variations, each producing subtly or intensely different results.
Finding the precise variation he needed for any specific purpose among so many possibilities was itself a major undertaking requiring regular experimentation and careful documentation.
Not only that, but Morris had discovered another layer of complexity: the same rune inscribed on different objects and materials would also produce different effects depending on the medium's properties.
The Levitation rune on wood behaved differently than on metal or stone or bone. Material properties influenced magical effects in ways he was only beginning to understand.
How absolutely fascinating.
This kind of magic that could create infinite possibilities through subtle variations, that rewarded experimentation and creativity, that had no clear limits or ceiling to its potential applications—this was the most genuinely captivating and exciting magical system Morris had encountered so far.
He let the wooden block slowly fall back into his palm, and closed his fingers around it thoughtfully.
Now then, let's try inscribing a new rune on the same piece to see what happens when multiple runes interact.
What should he add to the existing Levitation rune?
Morris mentally searched through The Mage's Book for a moment, reviewing the hundreds of documented runes and considering which might produce interesting combined effects.
"Explosion"? That seemed like an intriguing choice.
He immediately began attempting to inscribe this new rune called "Explosion" on the wooden block's opposite face.
"Levitation" plus "Explosion"—what kind of effect would that combination produce?
An object that levitated then exploded? An explosive force that launched things up? Something completely unexpected? The only way to find out was through experimentation.
After finding the proper mental rhythm and technique through practice, inscription wasn't terribly difficult anymore.
Morris completed the second rune smoothly once again, carving the symbol into the wood.
This "Explosion" rune, when finished, glowed with a different color than the Levitation rune, it was dark red rather than the previous silver-gray.
Morris looked down at the wooden block now glowing with a faint crimson light in his hand and hesitated briefly.
Would there be some danger...?
But soon, his natural confidence and curiosity overrode these cautious instincts. He set his mind at ease with logical reasoning.
It was just a small wooden block. Even if it had been enchanted with the "Explosion" rune, how powerful could the resulting blast really be? Certainly nothing dangerous enough to cause serious injury.
So, having what he considered reasonable caution, Morris walked away from the crowded main corridor to a quiet, isolated corner of a less-traveled hallway.
He held the block at arm's length, pointed away from his body toward the empty space, and carefully infused it with magical power to activate both inscribed runes simultaneously.
"Whoosh!"
Morris didn't manage to hold the block steady in his hand. It shot out of his loosened grip like a bottle rocket or a magical missile, leaving his fingers before he could tighten his grasp. It trailed a dark red streak of energy behind it like a comet's tail.
The wooden block curved erratically through the air several times in a wobbly, unpredictable trajectory. Then, with terrible timing and worse luck, it flew directly toward a student who had just emerged from around the corner at the end of the hallway.
Morris's eyes widened with alarm.
Oh no.
As everyone knows from basic human instinct and reflexes, when faced with small objects flying rapidly toward them, people instinctively raise their arms to block or deflect, then try to catch it.
It's automatic, unconscious, the result of thousands of years of evolution.
Draco Malfoy was no exception.
"What's this?" Draco asked aloud to no one in particular.
He looked down at the caught object to examine what had been thrown at him, holding it close to his face for better inspection.
His eyes focused on the wooden block just in time to see a red glow rapidly expanding in his vision, growing brighter and brighter, and then—
"BANG!"
An explosion of moderate volume erupted in the corridor.
"OW!"
Draco was pushed backward several staggering steps by the blast's impact and sat down hard on his but* on the ground.
His palm where he'd been holding the explosive block burned painfully. His expensive wizard's robes now had a bowl-sized hole blown in the chest area, the edges were scorched black and still smoking slightly.
His usually carefully styled blond hair normally slicked back with expensive products was blown completely out of place and sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning.
And his pale face was thoroughly smudged with black ash and soot, making him look rather funny, like a chimney sweep who'd had a professional accident.
The overall effect was absolutely ridiculous.
The power wasn't very great, just slightly more impressive than a firecracker.
Morris nodded to himself. Then he very sensibly and quietly left the scene before Draco could react.
"WHO WAS THAT?!" came Draco Malfoy's furious, outraged shriek from behind him. "WHO THREW THAT AT ME?! SHOW YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!"
Hearing the distant commotion, Morris's face remained completely expressionless, showing no reaction.
He really genuinely didn't know what the other boy had been thinking, choosing to walk through that particular remote corridor at precisely the moment Morris was experimenting with potentially volatile magical combinations.
What were the odds?
It was terrible timing on Draco's part, really.
That's right—objectively speaking, logically considered, this wasn't Morris's fault at all.
It was all just Draco Malfoy's bad luck.
Morris definitely, absolutely, certainly didn't deliberately aim the experimental rune-bomb at someone he'd recently had conflicts with.
Definitely not.
That would be irresponsible and petty.
And Morris was neither of those things.