For example, this curse spell called the Curse of Weakness.
Unfortunately, it seems to be more difficult than he imagined.
The key to magic lies in "construction".
While incantations and gestures are necessary, they are more like an auxiliary method.
The true core lies in the operation of mental power.
Simply put, it involves using mental power to construct a complex and precise energy structure in the spiritual world, which is essentially a spell model.
Once the spell model of the Weakness Curse is constructed, the spell can be cast successfully.
Thinking of this, Morris rubbed his forehead in slight annoyance.
Even though he has found some tricks, it is still somewhat difficult for him now.
In the process of constructing a spell model, even the slightest distraction will result in immediate failure.
He has tried hundreds of times, but has only succeeded once.
Yes, once.
Morris had always considered himself a person who was good at concentrating, so this result inevitably made him somewhat discouraged.
Just as he was feeling troubled, his roommate Scott struck up a conversation with him.
"Hey, Maurice, is that your cat?"
Morris looked in the direction Scott was pointing.
His ghostly cat was standing atop a wall that had lost its plaster, baring its teeth and confronting a large, spotted wildcat.
Is a fight about to break out? Morris became interested.
The undead cat had sharp eyes, its pupils narrowed into two vertical lines.
Ha, it's a domesticated cat now, how dare a mere stray cat provoke it?
Moreover, its owner has bestowed upon it extraordinary power.
Thinking of this, the undead cat arched its body, its fur standing on end, and with a sudden burst of power from its hind legs, it pounced fiercely at the spotted wildcat like a black arrow!
Then...
"Smack!"
The wall was slapped off by a spotted stray cat.
"..."
"Your cat is really weak," Scott remarked, arms crossed, somewhat speechless.
Looking at the undead cat rolling on the ground and whimpering at him, Morris suddenly felt a little reluctant to accept that it was his cat.
That's so embarrassing.
You're supposed to be a noble undead creature, after all.
It's one thing to be unable to beat a stray cat, but can't you at least show some backbone?
"It's probably just a stray cat that looks like one." Morris looked away expressionlessly.
"?!"
As if it had heard its master's words, the undead cat immediately stopped its clumsy performance, darted to Morris's feet like a shadow, climbed up his trouser leg, and buried itself in his arms.
Watching the ghostly cat rubbing its head against Maurice's chest, Scott's lips twitched. "...This cat seems to like you. Its name is Canned Food, right?"
"Yes." Morris gave a helpless look.
"Canned Food" was the name he gave to the spirit cat.
This was to commemorate the overturned can of fruit that he had treasured for two months.
Incidentally, Morris also used the undead creature preservation guide in the Book of Mages to preserve the canned goods.
"Mr. Blake, I must remind you again, cats are not allowed here," a caregiver said, approaching him with a blank expression.
"Yes, sir, but it's just a stray cat." Morris nodded obediently and then tossed the can of food aside.
The canned food moved swiftly and disappeared behind the wall, leaving only a blurry black shadow.
The caregiver nodded and said nothing more.
Morris is already quite adept at dealing with caregivers.
As long as a child doesn't talk back and behaves obediently, most caregivers won't make things difficult for them.
Chapter 4 Minerva McGonagall
The next morning.
Normally, mornings are the children's free time at the orphanage.
However, since the progress of cleaning the yard yesterday was almost zero, they were once again asked to gather in the yard and continue this frustrating work.
Morris remained largely unconcerned about this.
He always manages to find a chance to slack off.
He can also tease his ghost cat from time to time.
The cat food for the dead is almost no different from that for ordinary cats, except that it is faster.
This allows it to successfully escape from attacks by groups of stray cats every time.
As for why it was targeted by the stray cat community.
There's nothing I can do, the kid's a bit naughty.
Morris had come to understand the nature of his foolish cat perfectly.
This guy always tries to bother stray cats or other stray animals he sees outside.
Including but not limited to: stealing food, pulling tails, pushing the sleeping leader of stray cats into puddles...
Yeah, serves him right.
"Mr. Black."
A sudden voice interrupted Maurice's thoughts.
He turned his head and found a strange middle-aged man in the yard.
Morris was certain it was calling him, because if he remembered correctly, he was the only person here with the surname Black.
However, he did not recognize the man in front of him.
etc!
Morris squinted and examined it carefully for a few seconds.
He was a typical middle-aged, overweight man, with a bloated body and a sparse head. The few remaining greasy strands of hair were carefully combed, in an attempt to cover up that bald patch.
Hair loss is always the saddest thing for middle-aged men.
Fortunately, Morris doesn't have this problem yet.
"Mr. Blake," the man called again, "please come here for a moment."
"Yes, Mr. Green," Morris replied immediately, jogging quickly to the man.
He had already recognized the man's identity.
The person in charge of this children's home is Harold Green.
Although he was in charge, Morris remembered that the last time they met was last Christmas.
Fortunately, he still remembered the slightly old-fashioned name, so he didn't mispronounce it.
"Is there something you need, Mr. Green?" Morris asked obediently, while his mind was quickly calculating why the person in charge had suddenly come to him.
He doesn't seem to have made any major mistakes recently that would alarm the management.
Or rather, he never intentionally made a mistake.
Harold looked Morris up and down with his small, sunken eyes, then asked, "If I remember correctly, Mr. Black, you're starting high school this year. Which high school?"
"Northwood Comprehensive School, sir," Morris replied.
Sure enough, it was about school.
As an orphan, since he received an acceptance letter from Hogwarts, there must be Hogwarts professors to handle the admission process.
Clearly, the person in charge here has received the relevant information.
However, since nothing was certain yet, Morris chose the safest approach to answer.
Harold nodded slightly upon hearing this, but then a hint of unease flashed in his eyes.
"Well…" he paused, then said, "Do you have any other ideas? An official from another school asked me if you would be willing to study at their school."
Which school is it?
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Harold replied, his expression somewhat subtle.