Looking at Snape silently flipping through his notebook, Morris couldn't suppress his growing curiosity any longer and asked. "Is something wrong, Professor?"
Honestly, he didn't feel his notebook contained anything particularly special or remarkable. The notebook was simply a practical repository where he had carefully recorded all his thoughts, observations, and questions as he studied Potions.
As for his own Potions skill level, Morris maintained a clear-eyed assessment of his abilities. He was competent for a first-year student, certainly, but far from exceptional.
The questions scribbled throughout the notebook, written in his somewhat cramped handwriting with occasional ink splotches where he'd paused to think, probably represented the most elementary, introductory-level concerns for a true Potions master like Snape.
Snape finally looked up from the notebook to Morris with a complex expression.
He remained silent for several seconds, seemingly weighing his words with before speaking them aloud.
Finally, Snape spoke in a voice that came out stiff and somewhat forced. "You have too many questions, Mr. Black." He paused, and his expression hardened slightly. "And most of them are meaningless."
Morris simply shrugged with indifference. After all, those questions were just spontaneous thoughts casually recorded in the notebook whenever they occurred to him during his studies, not refined questions submitted for professional review. He hadn't expected anyone else to ever read them, certainly not one of Britain's top Potions experts.
"Give me the quill," Snape said suddenly, extending his hand with an impatient gesture.
"Oh, all right," Morris replied, somewhat surprised by this unexpected request. He retrieved the black quill from his pocket and handed it over carefully, watching Snape with curiosity about what the professor intended to do with it.
Snape accepted the quill with a quick motion, offered absolutely no explanation for his intentions, and instead went directly to the last blank area of the notebook and began writing with swift strokes.
About a minute later, after the scratching of quill on parchment finally stopped, Snape returned both the quill and the notebook to Morris without comment.
Morris looked down with anticipation and discovered that on the previously blank page, there now existed a neat, organized list of more than ten book title
Incidentally, Morris couldn't help but notice that Snape's handwriting was remarkably refined and aesthetically pleasing.
"This is..." Morris began, his voice trailing off as he scanned the titles with growing interest.
"Read through all of these books," Snape interrupted in a tone utterly empty of warmth or encouragement, yet was not entirely dismissive either.
"From top to bottom, every single one. No skipping chapters, no cursory skimming. The first five titles are foundational works. The remaining books contain considerably more advanced content that builds upon those foundations."
He paused then continued. "Incidentally, I had already finished reading all of these by the end of my first year at Hogwarts.
If you still have questions after working through all of that material," Snape continued, his voice returning to its usual emotionless tone, "then and only then may you come to my office and ask me."
"Thank you, Professor," Morris said with appreciation and gratitude. This was an extraordinarily generous gesture from a man not known for his generosity. "You're a nice person."
Snape stiffened at this classification, and his expression shifted to something like discomfort. He felt this statement was not only somewhat odd but also inappropriate, possibly even sarcastic.
'A good person?'
The phrase echoed strangely in his mind.
He most certainly didn't count as one, and he knew it with certainty.
Snape nodded slightly, before adding, "If you truly…. admire me as you claimed earlier, then listen carefully and attentively in my class."
His jaw tightened subtly. "Also, don't say those irrelevant things to Mr. Potter again. This has nothing to do with you."
Morris understood from this remark that their earlier conversation with Harry and Ron had been overheard completely.
More significantly, Morris noticed with interest that when Snape mentioned Harry Potter's name at the end of his warning, there was a trace of gritted teeth.
From this revealing reaction, Morris could now see with certainty that Snape's treatment of Harry Potter wasn't simply rooted in disgust for a celebrity student or annoyance at apparent inadequacy. There were considerably deeper, more complex personal reasons involved in that, emotions that went far beyond the classroom.
However, Morris had absolutely no intention of investigating further or trying to unravel that particular mystery. That was someone else's private matter which was none of his business.
In the afternoon, amid the quiet atmosphere of the library, Morris made his way to where Harry and Ron had placed themselves at a table near the Potions section.
He casually mentioned his earlier encounter with Snape, explaining the unexpected conversation.
When the two boys finally understood that they could no longer simply copy Morris's homework, both Harry and Ron wore expressions of such dismay that one might think someone had just informed them that Christmas had been permanently cancelled and all their possessions had been confiscated.
"Merlin's broken socks!" Ron wailed dramatically, slumping forward across the table until his forehead nearly touched the surface. His voice carried enough anguish to portray tragedy. "What am I going to do now? Whose homework can I possibly copy instead? This is a disaster!"
"Write it yourself," Morris answered simply.
"I will not compromise on this!" Ron declared with entirely misplaced conviction.
"Whatever makes you happy, Ron," Morris replied with amusement, shaking his head at his friend's stubborn commitment to laziness.
Morris genuinely didn't understand what Ron thought he was persisting in defending with such passionate determination.
It was just writing homework, after all which wasn't particularly difficult or unreasonable. Was such dramatic resistance truly necessary? The amount of energy Ron expended complaining could easily have been redirected toward actually completing the work.
Looking across the table, Morris observed that Harry had already resigned himself to the inevitable reality. He was currently flipping through his Potions textbook with focus.
Now that was someone who possessed true resolve and practical wisdom, Morris thought with satisfaction.
"One should handle one's own homework, Weasley" a sharp voice suddenly inserted itself into their conversation with obvious disapproval.
Ron glanced up at the speaker, his expression immediately souring with irritation. "This has nothing to do with you, Granger," he said with annoyance.
Hermione stood before their table like a prosecuting attorney delivering an impeachment, holding a book against her chest.
Her posture was rigid with self-righteous certainty, her head held high, her voice clear and carrying enough volume that several nearby students glanced over with interest.
"This certainly has something to do with me, Weasley. If certain people in Gryffindor lose a great many house points because of this irresponsible behavior, then I'll have to work harder to earn them back through my own efforts. Your laziness affects all of us."
"Points haven't actually been deducted yet, have they?" Ron retorted with a triumphant tone. "So, stop meddling in things that aren't your concern!"
However, Hermione continued speaking as if she hadn't heard his objection at all, her voice took on the lecturing tone.
"Copying homework is wrong in itself, regardless of whether you've been caught yet. It's disrespectful to the professor who assigned it, dishonest to yourself, and it prevents you from actually learning the material.
I can't simply stand by and watch you degenerate into academic dishonesty without saying something."
She turned to look at Morris, clearly seeking an ally in her moral crusade. "Isn't that right, Morris? You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
However, when she turned her attention toward Morris's seat, hoping to gain some agreement and support for her position, she discovered to her surprise and confusion that the chair was completely empty.
At some point during her impassioned argument with Ron, Morris had quietly left without farewell, leaving them to their dispute.
Hermione stood frozen for a moment, her prepared words were dying in her throat as she stared at the vacant seat in bewilderment.
"Uh..." Harry spoke up in time to fill the awkward silence, his voice was apologetic as he gestured vaguely toward the distant shelves.
"If you're looking for Morris, he went over to the bookshelves while you two were arguing... uh, I mean, discussing your different perspectives. He told me he needed to find some books."
Harry raised his hand and pointed across the library to indicate Morris's location.
Not far away, between two high bookshelves filled, Morris was standing on a wooden ladder, his head was tilted back at a tight angle, concentrating intently on examining a book on the uppermost shelf. He appeared completely oblivious to the commotion they were causing.
Ron puffed out his chest with confidence, as if seizing upon some crucial argument that definitively proved his position correct.
He said triumphantly, his voice was carrying a tone of vindication, "Then you're completely wrong, Granger! Morris is my friend, a good friend, and he was perfectly willing to let me copy his homework! He said so himself!"
Harry felt somewhat uncomfortable with this line of reasoning, knowing that Ron's point wasn't something worth being proud of announcing, nor was it particularly admirable behavior to publicly celebrate.
After hearing this declaration delivered with such pride, Hermione's face flushed with rising color, her cheeks were turning pink and then red with a combination of anger, and frustration.
She stamped her foot against the stone floor with enough force to make a sharp sound that drew more curious glances from nearby students.
"I don't care about you anymore!" she declared, raising her voice enough that Madam Pince shot her a warning look from across the library. "Do whatever you want!"
With that final statement, she turned sharply back and walked rapidly toward another section of the library.
Harry and Ron looked at each other across the table with matching expressions of male bewilderment, neither quite certain what had just happened or how the conversation had escalated.
"She's angry?" Ron said in confusion. "Just because of this?"
"Apparently so," Harry nodded slowly, still watching Hermione's retreating figure disappear between the shelves.
"Wait—I should be the angry one here, right?" Ron protested, his voice rising with indignation at this apparent injustice. "This doesn't make any sense!"
It was clearly Hermione who had approached their table uninvited and started this entire confrontation. After losing the debate, she had simply huffed off by herself in irritation.
What kind of reasonable behavior was that supposed to represent? How was he supposed to understand such completely irrational reactions?
Meanwhile, Morris was searching for the books he needed according to the list Snape had given him.
He planned to borrow every single book at once, then transport them all back to his dormitory where he could study them slowly and carefully in the peace and privacy of his personal space.
For someone with Morris's temperament and study habits, his private dormitory was obviously far more suitable for serious reading and concentrated learning than the library.
While searching for the books on Snape's list, scanning the shelves with attention, Morris unexpectedly came face to face with Hermione.
Hermione had just emerged from behind a row of bookshelves, still fuming from her recent argument.
"Looks like you've finished arguing," Morris said casually.
He had of course noticed Hermione and Ron's increasingly heated debate before his departure, but he'd no interest in participating in what struck him as childish bickering over trivial matters.
Arguing passionately about whether copying homework was morally acceptable seemed quite pointless to him, a waste of time and emotional energy that could be better spent actually doing the work in question. So, he had simply walked away mid-argument.
Hermione looked at Morris's detached, entirely indifferent manner, taking in his casual posture and unbothered expression, and the anger that had nearly subsided during her walk suddenly flared up again with new intensity.
"Morris," she said coldly, "as a friend, shouldn't you stop Weasley from copying homework? You clearly know he's wrong!"
"Is that so?" Morris responded, his voice maintaining that same steady, unruffled tone that seemed to frustrate Hermione even further.
"Unfortunately, I can't force Ron to change his own thinking or make his decisions for him. Ron certainly knows that copying homework isn't the optimal approach to learning, but it's ultimately his choice to make. And I choose to respect his decisions rather than impose my judgment."
In Morris's view, people act according to their own will and internal motivations.
As a friend, if Ron said he wanted to study seriously and improve his understanding of Potions, Morris would of course help with all his might.
But if Ron instead wanted to use irregular methods to handle his homework, well, that was also Ron's own idea springing from his own values and priorities. Morris didn't feel entitled or inclined to forcibly twist someone else's choices to align with his own preferences.
At most, he would offer a bit of friendly advice when appropriate, suggest alternatives, point out potential consequences. Nothing more than that. True change had to come from within, from personal motivation rather than other people's nagging.
"Ah, found it," Morris said suddenly, his attention shifted away from their conversation.
Before Hermione could speak, Morris's gaze had already fallen upon a dark brown covered book on the highest shelf, just barely within reach.
Advanced Potion-Making
This was the second-to-last book on the list Snape had given him.
He climbed to the top of the ladder and pulled out this heavy book.
After coming down, he looked at Hermione, who was still standing in place with a complex expression, and said, "I still need to find several more books. So, I should continue my search. Goodbye, Hermione."
He paused, then finally reminded her.
"If you want to be friends with your peers, it's best not to use lecturing methods to communicate with others. Apart from me, very few people would be able to endure constant criticism and judgment, even when it comes from good intentions."
"I'm not lecturing!" Hermione reflexively retorted.
"Perhaps," Morris said, choosing not to argue the point or press his case. He simply nodded with a slight, understanding smile, then turned and walked toward the adjacent bookshelf to continue his search.
If he said too much on this sensitive topic, the other party would simply grow tired of his input and stop listening. He'd learned that lesson long ago.
Don't let his normally direct manner fool you—when it came to handling interpersonal relationships, Morris believed he had quite a sense of appropriate boundaries and timing.
Or at least, that's what he told himself with confidence.