Once Fred had successfully scrubbed the foul-smelling sludge from his skin and changed into clean robes, the group gathered around the coffee table once again to discuss the mechanics of the Portable Swamp.
According to the twins' enthusiastic explanation, they had stumbled upon the foundational runic theory in a battered tome hidden deep within the Restricted Section of the library.
However, the current version of the Portable Swamp was a heavily modified, scaled-down "prank" adaptation of the original spell. They had intentionally removed many of its lethal elements.
The original version described in the book was far more vicious. Not only was the runic matrix more complex, but its destructive potential was terrifying.
"The Restricted Section?!" Neville's voice cracked. "You two snuck into the Restricted Section?!"
"It is perfectly normal," Fred replied, looking completely unbothered. "Maurise strolls in there practically every day."
"I wouldn't say every day," Maurise corrected calmly.
Neville's face twisted with inner conflict.
'What exactly is wrong with the people I associate with?'
Sneaking into the Restricted Section was a serious violation of school rules.
However... if Maurise was doing it, he surely had a good reason.
'Yes, that must be it.' Neville quietly reassured himself.
"Do you still have the book?" Maurise asked.
"It's currently hidden under my bed," Fred said with a wicked grin. "Madam Pince hasn't noticed it's missing yet. If you want it for your research, you're welcome to borrow it."
"That would be excellent," Maurise replied with a nod.
He was genuinely interested in the swamp's spatial mechanics.
---
The conversation naturally shifted to their progress with the Wizard's Meditation.
According to Maurise's questions, all three boys had successfully learned to perceive the existence of "spiritual power."
Fred had needed forty days of practice. George had taken forty-one. Surprisingly, Neville had been the quickest of the three, grasping the concept in exactly thirty days.
Naturally, none of them could compare to Maurise. He had entered a meditative state on his very first attempt.
Still, their success confirmed an important theory. Native wizards were indeed capable of learning the foundational techniques recorded in the Book of the Magi.
"When you meditate, do you notice a distinct feeling of comfort?" Maurise asked thoughtfully. "And does your spellcasting feel smoother afterward?"
The three Gryffindors exchanged uncertain glances.
Fred scratched the back of his neck.
"Comfortable... I suppose there's a slight feeling. Every time I finish meditating, my mind feels much clearer. But I'm not sure whether that's an actual magical effect or just a placebo."
George nodded.
"As for spellcasting, I haven't noticed any obvious improvement."
Neville gave much the same answer. He hadn't experienced any dramatic increase in magical ability.
Maurise fell silent in thought.
'It seems the effects of meditation vary greatly from person to person.'
He clearly remembered his own first meditation session. The results had been immediate. His headaches disappeared, his fatigue vanished, and his control over magic became noticeably smoother.
The difference had been especially obvious during those first few sessions.
'I suppose this simply reflects the gap in natural talent.'
"Continue practicing every day," he said, his tone growing unusually serious. "Don't abandon the technique simply because the early results seem modest. I can personally guarantee it will prove invaluable to your magical development in the future."
Hearing the certainty in his voice, Fred and George immediately straightened and gave exaggerated, synchronized salutes.
"Aye, aye, Captain!"
They trusted Maurise completely. If he believed the technique was worth mastering, then it undoubtedly was.
Seeing the twins salute, Neville awkwardly copied them, raising a clumsy hand to his forehead.
The sight instantly sent the twins into another fit of laughter.
Three days later, in the quiet of his dormitory, Maurise casually flipped through the library book the twins had smuggled to him.
The title was straightforward: A Comprehensive Guide to Forging Lethal Swamps.
The contents were exactly what the title promised. From beginning to end, it was a detailed manual explaining how to create an inescapable magical marshland.
The theory was complex, requiring the simultaneous integration of dozens of advanced curses and transfiguration matrices.
Compared to it, the twins' Portable Swamp was clearly a simplified, heavily sanitized version.
In the original design, the swamp was meant to produce hidden iron spikes, venomous geysers, and pools of corrosive acid, along with countless other cruel additions.
Simply imagining the suffering of anyone trapped inside was enough to make even Maurise wince.
'Killing an enemy is acceptable, but deliberately torturing them is inefficient and crude.'
It was easy to understand why Madam Pince had placed the book in the Restricted Section.
Even so, the underlying spatial magic held tremendous potential. Maurise intended to study the runic matrices carefully and develop a more refined version of the trap.
'But not right now.'
'At the moment, I simply want a hot breakfast.'
Maurise closed the heavy book, changed into his school robes, and stepped out of his dormitory.
The Ravenclaw common room was already bustling with early risers. Several older students looked up from their books to greet him.
"Good morning, Maurise."
"Morning."
"I didn't see you in the library last night. Where were you?"
"I felt like spending a quiet evening in my dormitory."
He had become remarkably popular within Ravenclaw.
The reason was obvious.
An upper-year girl approached him with a bright smile.
"Maurise, would it be possible to tour your flying ship sometime?"
Maurise paused before giving a polite nod.
"You're welcome to visit. However, it may have to wait. My schedule is rather busy at the moment."
'At present, breakfast takes priority over everything else.'
The girl looked mildly disappointed but nodded.
"Oh... perhaps next week, then."
Maurise offered a faint smile.
She blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
As he walked toward the exit, she watched him leave before quietly murmuring,
"He actually has a really nice smile..."
---
While Maurise was enjoying a plate of sausages in the Great Hall, an unexpected visitor approached the Ravenclaw table.
Professor Snape stopped behind him, his black robes settling around him.
"Black. Be in the Potions classroom at exactly twelve o'clock today."
Maurise paused and glanced back.
"Just call me Maurise, Professor."
Snape's brow twitched with mild irritation, but to Maurise's surprise, he didn't object.
"Very well," Snape drawled. "Then, Maurise, make certain you arrive on time."
Without another word, he turned and swept out of the Great Hall.
"Are you and Professor Snape actually on good terms?" Kyle asked from the neighboring seat, looking thoroughly bewildered.
"Our relationship is quite amicable," Maurise replied casually before taking another bite of sausage.
He was satisfied with the positive relationship he had built with the Potions Master.
Snape was undeniably abrasive, critical, and seemingly incapable of speaking without sarcasm. Even so, Maurise judged people by their actions rather than their words.
Objectively speaking, Snape spent much of his time helping him.
Though his methods were subtle and usually disguised beneath insults, he consistently shared advanced potion knowledge, answered difficult theoretical questions, provided private instruction, and showed remarkable leniency whenever Maurise made a minor mistake.
'Judging from the evidence, Professor Snape most likely respects my academic ability despite my unfortunate association with Harry Potter.'
---
At exactly twelve o'clock, Maurise entered the cool, dimly lit Potions classroom beneath the castle.
Snape was already waiting behind a front workbench, his arms folded across his chest.
Resting on the table was a polished brass cauldron. Beside it lay an impressive collection of rare potion ingredients.
A quick glance revealed several premium components, including a sealed crystal vial labeled Dragon's Blood.
"Professor," Maurise said as he stepped forward. "Is there a particular advanced potion you want me to brew today?"
Snape gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable.
"It is time you attempted a more challenging concoction. Today's lesson is the Wolfsbane Potion."
Maurise paused in surprise.
He knew the potion well. It was a recent breakthrough that allowed werewolves to retain their human minds during the full moon.
"Isn't this rather sudden?" he thought.
A faint smirk appeared on Snape's face.
"It is entirely appropriate for your current skill. Proceed. I have already completed the more tedious ingredient preparation."
Maurise simply shrugged to himself.
'I have no idea why Professor Snape suddenly decided to teach such a specialized and expensive potion, but I'm certainly not going to complain.'
'Free access to rare ingredients for practical experience?'
That's an absolute win!