The orphans' residence loomed cold and silent as they returned, the last vestiges of twilight long vanished from the sky.
Harold, his mind still reeling, unconsciously sighed. The past two days had been more magical than his entire previous life combined.
"How are you feeling?" Maurise inquired, his tone perfectly level.
"Quite well, actually," Harold replied casually. He had not bought any souvenirs in Diagon Alley, only a few Chocolate Frogs which, naturally, he had already devoured.
Magic. It was real. A tangible thing.
Regrettably, he could not share this profound secret with anyone outside the wizarding world. It was a realm ordinary people simply could not touch. A world that, until two days ago, had been utterly inaccessible to him.
Maurise stretched languidly. "Goodbye, Mr. Green. I am off to bed."
Harold felt a strange, complex emotion stir within him. Judging from their brief acquaintance, even setting aside the wizarding connection, this boy named Maurise was far from ordinary. If it were not for his youthful appearance, Harold would swear he was speaking to a peer.
"Maurise," he called out, stopping the boy who was about to leave with his birdcage in hand. Harold retrieved a business card from his inner suit pocket and offered it. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, you can try giving me a call."
He paused, then added, "The number is in the telephone directory, but this is more direct."
"Thank you," Maurise accepted the card. He recognized Harold's gesture of goodwill, and he knew it would be beneficial to him in the long run.
"Ah, one more thing," Harold seemed to remember something just as Maurise was about to turn away. "If you genuinely manage to bring that owl back to life, will you let me see it?"
Maurise considered this for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "I can do that."
It cost him nothing, and besides, he found Harold quite agreeable, despite the man's distinct lack of hair.
When Maurise returned to his dormitory, his roommate, Scott, was engrossed in tinkering with a rusted dagger he had presumably salvaged from some forgotten corner.
"It is a bit rusty," Scott mumbled. "I am trying to restore it... What the hell is that?"
He had finally noticed the birdcage in Maurise's hand.
"An owl," Maurise stated matter of factly, placing the cage in a corner of the room.
"And?" Scott peered at the large, listless black bird inside the cage. "Do you not think you ought to elaborate?"
"A gift from Mr. Green," Maurise explained.
This only deepened the mystery.
"Mr. Green?" Scott put down the dagger, furrowed his brow, and searched his memory. "Which Mr. Green? I do not recall anyone with that surname among the people we know..."
"Harold Green. The director of this children's home."
Scott's eyes widened in realization. It was not entirely his fault. Maurise himself had almost forgotten who the man was when they first met.
"So why would he give you an owl?" Scott was utterly bewildered.
"My back to school gift," Maurise said, lightly shaking the cage. The Great Grey Owl within stirred a wing slightly.
Scott still was not following. What kind of school supplies included an owl, and a rather sickly one at that?
"Ah, I get it now" Scott suddenly exclaimed, his face lighting up with mischievous enlightenment. He lowered his voice conspiratorially and leaned toward Maurise. "Harold Green is secretly your father, is he not?"
"Your imagination is remarkably vivid," Maurise said, ignoring the speculation and carefully retrieving the Great Grey Owl from the cage.
The large, black bird lay docilely in his arms, still looking pitifully weak.
"But it makes perfect sense" Scott excitedly theorized. "The director, who usually never shows his face, suddenly gives you such an unusual gift, an owl. It must be a present with special, paternal meaning..."
Maurise paid no attention to Scott's rambling, continuing to examine the owl's condition. According to the pet shop clerk, the bird was suffering from a Dark wizard's curse. It must have endured significant suffering.
"I need to prepare the transformation spell quickly," Maurise murmured to himself.
"Hey. Are you even listening to me?" Scott persisted, still chattering.
"Time for bed," Maurise put the owl back in the cage and climbed onto his own bunk.
The next morning, the first thing Maurise did upon waking was look toward the corner.
The Great Grey Owl was lying on its side in the cage, its already dull eyes now completely lifeless. It maintained the exact posture it had settled into the night before, but its chest no longer rose and fell.
It was dead.
Maurise stared quietly at the lifeless creature, his face betraying no emotion.
"It did not make it, as expected," he whispered to himself.
The miracle he had not truly expected failed to materialize. The owl's life had been even shorter than the clerk's two day estimate.
Maurise carefully picked up the cage containing the body and slipped out of the dormitory, heading for the back yard shed. He did not know if the Undead Creature Transformation Ritual had any strict requirements regarding the time of death, so the sooner he performed it, the better.
Having gained experience from his last attempt, Maurise only needed half an hour to complete the construction of the Undead Creature Transformation Ritual Circle this time.
But this time, Maurise intended to add a little something extra to the mix.
Maurise stood beside the completed circle, stretching out his right arm, palm facing down.
"Kha-Zul... Ver-Thek... Ssyrax." (Blood Drain)
Compared to the Blight Curse, this was a simple spell, and Maurise had mastered it completely in only an hour. Its effect was straightforward, to painlessly draw the caster's blood without leaving a single wound.
As Maurise chanted, blood began to well up and slowly drip from the center of his palm.
Plip. Plop.
The droplets fell to the floor and, as if possessing a life of their own, immediately seeped into the magical array. The circle, already drawn in crimson pigment, intensified into a lurid, dark red glow.
Feeling a slight dizzy spell, Maurise ceased the Sanguis Haustus. He was not sure exactly how much blood he had added, but he was certain it was not a small amount.
Next, he walked over to the cage, gently lifted the cold, stiff owl, and placed it carefully in the center of the ritual circle.
'The result of this modification', he mused, 'should prove quite interesting.'
"The world of the living has not forgotten you, and the peaceful slumber of death shall not be your end."
The moment Maurise's incantation finished, the magic circle sprang to life. Just as before, scarlet lines of energy flowed toward the center, pouring into the owl's lifeless body.
However, this time, interwoven with the crimson flow, faint, glimmering threads of dark gold were subtly visible.
When the last trace of red light vanished into the owl's form, a profound silence descended upon the shed.
Suddenly, the owl's eyes snapped open. Two plumes of ethereal, icy blue flame ignited within the empty sockets, replacing the original pupils.
Maurise crouched down in front of it.
"Hoo-"
The creature rose, fixing its burning gaze upon Maurise, and slowly lowered its head, gently brushing its beak against his fingertip.