Morris spent an entire exhausting afternoon navigating the corridors of Hogwarts' vast library, and only managed to locate a single book from the list Snape had given him.
Hogwarts' library was simply too vast for any one person to navigate efficiently. Even with its meticulous categorization, finding the books he needed was a monumental task.
Fortunately, Madam Pince knew the location of every single book by heart.
After Morris inquired about his needs and showed her Snape's handwritten list, Madam Pince's sharp eyes scanned the titles briefly before she immediately went to help him gather all the books he required.
Within twenty minutes, she had gathered the complete collection on a table in front of him, each book stacked neatly according to the order they appeared on Snape's list.
One could only marvel at her expertise and conclude that she truly deserved her title as Hogwarts' librarian.
Morris regretted not seeking her help sooner.
After promising Madam Pince repeatedly and with utmost sincerity that he would treat these precious books with the greatest care, and return them in exactly the condition he received them, he successfully gained permission to carry the entire stack back to his dormitory.
In the days that followed, Morris practically forgot normal human needs like regular meals and adequate sleep as he buried himself completely in these books, absorbing everything he possibly could about the art and science of potion-making.
Those complex formulas that initially seemed like incomprehensible magical gibberish, those ancient potion theories developed by long-dead masters of the craft, gradually unfolded before his eager eyes little by little.
The material was undeniably strange at first, filled with terminology he'd never encountered and concepts. Yet simultaneously, it was absolutely fascinating, drawing him deeper into its mysteries with each page turned.
Unfortunately, despite his rapidly expanding theoretical knowledge, he didn't have access to the corresponding rare ingredients necessary to test these formulas. He was limited to attempting only the most simple, basic formulas during supervised Potions class.
Gradually, as his understanding deepened and his skills improved, this limited practice was no longer enough to satisfy his curiosity.
It was like asking a university student who'd mastered calculus to repeatedly solve elementary school arithmetic problems. Inevitably, such unchallenging work would become tediously boring.
On the last Saturday of October, as autumn deepened and the Scottish Highlands grew cold and gray, Morris finally found exactly what he had been searching for all along, the objective that had driven his intensive study: the complete recipe for the Draught of Living Death.
The formula was contained within copy of Advanced Potion-Making.
That particular book was actually the standard sixth-year Potions textbook at Hogwarts.
The raw materials required for the Draught of Living Death included powdered asphodel root, valerian root, sopophorous beans, and more than a dozen additional auxiliary ingredients. The brewing process itself was even more dauntingly complex and required almost inhuman precision.
Clearly, this was a very advanced potion, well beyond what any reasonable person would expect a first-year student to attempt. The textbook itself included warnings about the dangers of improper preparation.
Successfully brewing it would certainly not be as simple as making a basic Boil-Cure Potion.
Morris couldn't wait to try it immediately.
But the problem that quickly dampened his enthusiasm was: how should he obtain the raw materials for the Draught of Living Death?
That afternoon, Morris found the Weasley twins in the courtyard near the greenhouses, where they were using several stinking Dungbombs as marbles, rolling them across a makeshift course they'd created with stones and sticks.
The smell was atrocious, but they seemed to be having tremendous fun, laughing uproariously each time one of the foul-smelling spheres knocked another off course.
"Raw materials for the Draught of Living Death?" Fred repeated after examining the detailed ingredient list Morris had given him, his eyebrows were rising with each item he read. He whistled low and long. "That's not easy to get, Morris. Not easy at all."
"Is it very expensive?" Morris asked.
Fred nodded slowly, his expression confirming Morris's worries.
"They're all fairly uncommon materials, some of them quite rare actually. According to my estimation, one complete set might cost dozens of Galleons. And what's worse..."
He paused. "If you're only ordering through owl post from the standard suppliers, it's basically impossible to buy all these varieties. Some of them require in-person transactions, proof of legitimate need, sometimes even Ministry approval."
Morris felt a sharp headache coming on, the familiar throb of a problem with no easy solution. By that calculation, everything he currently owned in terms of liquid assets would only be enough to buy perhaps one set of Draught of Living Death ingredients.
More troublesome still, even if he somehow managed to accumulate sufficient funds, he might not be able to actually purchase the materials due to legal restrictions and supplier requirements. Money alone wouldn't solve this particular problem.
"What about Diagon Alley?" Morris asked hopefully. "Could I buy them there in person during the holidays?"
Fred thought for a moment, his head tilting as he mentally reviewed the shops. Finally, he nodded. "I think so. The apothecaries there would have most of what you need. But the price won't be cheap at all, probably even more expensive than mail order since they can charge premium for immediate availability."
Hearing this affirmation, Morris felt slightly relieved despite the financial concerns. As long as there was a viable way to buy the raw materials, that was what ultimately mattered. He could work around other obstacles.
As for the exorbitant price, well, he would just have to find some way to earn money between now and when he needed to make the purchase.
Sure enough, no matter where you were, whether in the mundane world or the magical one, lacking money was always the biggest and most persistent problem.
"Thank you, Fred. Thank you, George," Morris said with gratitude.
"Don't mention it, mate," George waved off the thanks casually.
However, as Morris prepared to leave and return to his studies, George and Fred suddenly exchanged a glance with unspoken communication.
Simultaneously, they showed matching crafty smiles that suggested mischief was brewing.
They squeezed up on both side of Morris, getting very close and each grabbing one of his arms, effectively clamping down on both sides and preventing easy escape.
"What's going on?" Morris asked with suspicion, his eyes were narrowing as he sensed the twins were definitely up to no good. This felt like a trap.
"Don't rush off yet, Morris," Fred said in a low voice. "Dozens of Galleons is no small sum for a first-year student. Actually, I don't think you can afford it at all, no offense. Where would you even get that kind of money?"
"And fortunately for you," George added with exaggerated mystery, "we happen to know of a perfect shortcut that can solve this problem."
Morris looked at them with increasing wariness. "What shortcut exactly?"
He paused, then added firmly before they could suggest something outrageous, "Let me say this upfront: I won't do anything blatantly illegal. Nothing that would get me expelled or arrested."
Another pause as a disturbing thought occurred to him. "And selling my body is absolutely out of the question too. Unless the other party is..."
He trailed off as he realized where that sentence was heading and quickly course-corrected. "Never mind. Anyway, definitely no! That's completely off the table!"
The twins grinned simultaneously at his flustered objections.
"We never do things that violate the rules!" Fred raised one hand solemnly, as though taking a sacred oath in front of the Wizengamot itself. His face showed perfect innocence. "We're law-abiding good students who respect authority and follow all regulations!"
George blinked with exaggerated innocence and said in a low voice, "Underground at Hogwarts, beneath our feet, there's a potion ingredients storeroom. I think you should probably know about it—it's located right next to the Potions classroom."
Morris's eyes widened slightly as he understood. "You mean..."
"Exactly what it sounds like," Fred confirmed, releasing Morris's arm and stepping back slightly.
"George and I have snuck in there. The materials inside are incredibly comprehensive, much more complete than what's on your list. Even the processing tools are all there."
Morris frowned deeply. "That shouldn't be allowed, right?"
George's tone remained light and unconcerned. "Those are all school property and as Hogwarts students in good standing, we theoretically have 'usage rights'. It's fine."
'Absolute nonsense,' Morris thought immediately. That was the most absurd justification he'd encountered in years.
"Don't worry so much, Morris," Fred patted his shoulder again with a gesture meant to be reassuring. "As long as you don't get caught in the act, it doesn't technically count as breaking the rules. That's just basic logic."
Morris was left somewhat speechless by this brazen declaration. So, this was what the twins meant when they claimed with such solemn conviction that "we never do things that violate the rules"?
Their definition of rule-following was considerably more flexible than standard interpretations, to put it mildly.
They really were two fearless fellows.
However, Morris found himself considering their proposal seriously despite his initial objections.
He wasn't too opposed to the idea.
Morris thought carefully for a moment, weighing risks against benefits, before asking. "Just asking for clarification—who manages the potion ingredients storeroom?"
"Professor Snape," Fred answered without hesitation, as though this should have been obvious.
Of course. Morris nodded slowly, unsurprised by this revelation. Who else would it possibly be but Snape?
This school only had one Potions professor, after all. The storeroom would naturally fall under his supervision and control.
"The key is kept in the leftmost drawer of Snape's desk," George supplied helpfully.
"It's not locked, which is convenient. But be careful because that drawer's slide rail has a bit of a mechanical problem. If you lift the drawer up slightly while pulling, you can extract the whole thing from the desk, so you can't use too much force or you'll pull it completely out and drop it."
Hearing this extremely specific information, Morris felt his lips twitch. 'Why are you so familiar with these precise details?'
He didn't even need to ask. He guessed the twins had done this exact operation more than once.
"So?" Fred said with an openly instigating tone. "What do you think? Want to join us in this operation?"
Morris didn't hesitate for too long.
"Of course," he said decisively, meeting their eager gazes. "When do we act? What's the timeline?"
Although there was no rush, if possible, Morris genuinely wanted to obtain the Draught of Living Death ingredients as soon as reasonably achievable, even if accomplishing that goal meant bending or outright breaking school rules.
"Good answer! We recognize you as one of us now, Morris," Fred said with evident satisfaction, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him off balance. "Welcome to the unofficial club."
"Me too," George nodded enthusiastically. "You're officially a co-conspirator."
Both twins showed expressions of successful scheming, like fishermen who'd just landed an impressive catch.
Morris felt somewhat hesitant about this dubious recognition and the consequences of officially joining their circle of troublemakers. He didn't really need this kind of reputation. But the die was cast now.
After a brief discussion among the three conspirators, they decided to conduct their first reconnaissance mission tonight at midnight.
The actual heist was planned for the upcoming Halloween feast.
At the feast, which was traditionally one of the year's biggest celebrations, all the professors and students would be gathered together in the Great Hall. Snape would be no exception to this.
That period of guaranteed absence would be their best possible opportunity to strike. The storeroom would be completely unguarded.
"Ah, one more important thing I should mention," Fred said, suddenly remembering a crucial detail. "You haven't learned the Disillusionment Charm yet, right?"
"Actually, I've already learned it," Morris replied, contradicting Fred's assumption.
The twins both raised their eyebrows in perfect synchronization, genuine surprise flashing in their identical eyes. They clearly hadn't expected this answer.
"Really?" Fred asked skeptically, looking Morris up and down as though searching for evidence of deception. "You successfully learned the Disillusionment Charm as a first-year student? That's fairly advanced magic."
Although the Disillusionment Charm wasn't classified as particularly difficult magic in absolute terms, wasn't some impossibly complex spell that only the most talented could master, it also wasn't exactly easy for beginners.
Morris immediately decided to demonstrate rather than argue, recognizing that actions would prove more convincing than words.
He drew his wand with a smooth motion and focused his intention carefully. As his wand moved through the necessary pattern, his figure gradually faded from visibility like watercolor paint being diluted, eventually leaving only a slightly distorted patch of air where he'd been standing.
Fred whistled appreciatively, circling the spot where Morris had vanished. "Well, I'll be damned."
"Not very skilled compared to experienced users, I'll admit," Fred commented critically after a moment of observation. "But definitely passable for our purposes. Good enough to fool Filch and his mangy cat at least."
Morris canceled the charm with another wand movement and his figure gradually reappeared.
"Good enough is perfectly fine for what we need," he said lightly.
He hadn't dedicated long practice time to mastering this particular spell, truthfully. He barely knew the incantation and had only run through the technique a handful of times until he could produce a workable result.
As magic specifically designed for concealing one's form and presence, he found the Disillusionment Charm useful in certain circumstances.
But for nighttime operations specifically, he had already determined that the Shadow Concealment technique from his Mage's Book was considerably more practical and reliable. That spell allowed him to literally merge with darkness itself, becoming essentially undetectable in low-light conditions.
The Disillusionment Charm was merely a backup option.