And so, beginning in mid-October, a massive, unusual structure permanently joined the familiar landscape of Hogwarts.
A colossal wooden galleon, sealed inside an enormous glass bottle, bobbed serenely on the dark waters of the Black Lake.
The students discovered the breathtaking sight almost immediately. Naturally, it sparked endless curiosity and wild rumors.
Maurise had no intention of keeping his creation a secret. Within a few days, everyone in the castle knew exactly who the Ship in a Bottle belonged to.
As a result, students eagerly approached him, politely asking for permission to board and explore the vessel.
Maurise was generous with these requests, allowing almost anyone who asked to visit. After all, there was nothing illicit or classified on the main deck that needed to be hidden.
Besides, keeping his creations locked away simply wasn't his style.
Watching the expressions of stunned disbelief and genuine awe on his classmates' faces was, he had to admit, immensely satisfying.
Showing off is only human nature, after all.
Naturally, the tours were limited to the exterior main deck. Maurise firmly refused access to the interior cabins. Those magically expanded rooms served as the private sanctuary of The Explorers.
---
October 24th, a quiet Sunday morning.
Maurise, the Weasley twins, and Neville Longbottom were gathered in the main parlor of the Ship in a Bottle for an official organizational meeting.
Through the reinforced glass portholes lining the walls, the view was breathtaking. The ship rested firmly on the silty floor of the Black Lake.
Dark green water drifted lazily past the thick glass. Every so often, a large fish or a cluster of glowing grindylows floated into view before disappearing back into the murky depths.
Neville still hadn't fully adjusted to being underwater.
Even though the air inside the cabin was perfectly fresh, he kept instinctively holding his breath. An irrational fear lingered in the back of his mind that the glass would suddenly shatter, allowing the freezing lake water to crush them all.
"Neville, for Merlin's sake, stop worrying about the glass," Fred drawled lazily. He was sprawled across a plush green sofa, casually sipping from a bottle of mysterious black fizzy drink. "The outside of this bottle is practically indestructible. George and I tested it ourselves. We fired Blasting Curses at it from point-blank range, and it didn't even leave a scorch mark."
"He speaks the truth," George agreed from a nearby armchair. He turned toward Maurise. "Speaking of which, what protective enchantments did you put on the exterior? I genuinely can't understand how it's withstanding the pressure at the bottom of the lake."
Maurise, who had been leaning against the window while flipping through an old grimoire, finally looked up.
"A combination of structural reinforcement charms and pressure-displacement matrices," he replied. "If you're interested in the arithmancy behind it, I can explain the fundamentals. We have plenty of time today."
"You're serious?!" Fred practically sprang off the sofa, his eyes shining with excitement.
For the next hour, Maurise gave a condensed explanation of the magical theories behind the Ship in a Bottle. Naturally, he omitted anything connected to the Book of the Magi.
The twins listened with unwavering attention, frequently interrupting with thoughtful questions about the runic framework. Neville also tried his best to keep up with the dense magical theory.
Two hours later, the lecture finally came to an end.
Neville's eyes had glazed over completely. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his body rigid, looking remarkably like a salted cod left out to dry.
It was a familiar academic phenomenon. When a student who normally struggled tried to understand material far beyond their level, the mental strain drained every ounce of energy.
Neville was experiencing exactly that.
He was completely exhausted.
"That was fascinating, Maurise!" Fred declared enthusiastically, looking more energized than ever. "I've got a flood of new ideas. I think I can finally improve the Portable Swamp!"
"The Portable Swamp?" Maurise asked with interest. "The prototype you showed me over the summer? How far along is it now?"
Fred turned eagerly toward his brother.
"George! Reveal the masterpiece!"
George reached into his robes and produced a small burlap sack, wearing a mysterious grin.
"Watch closely," he announced.
He loosened the drawstring and gave the sack a firm shake over the center of the parlor carpet.
A tiny lump of brown mud dropped onto the floor with a soft squelch.
A heartbeat later, it sprang to life.
The mud rapidly expanded, spreading across the carpet like a living organism.
Within seconds, a foul-smelling swamp nearly two meters across had taken over the center of the room. The air filled with the heavy scent of stagnant water and decaying vegetation.
"An impressive concept," Maurise observed while studying the expanding enchantment. "Though I doubt creating a patch of mud is its true purpose."
"Exactly." Fred's grin widened. "It gets much nastier."
Without hesitation, he walked to the edge of the swamp and deliberately stepped into it.
"Oh dear," George gasped dramatically. "We have a serious problem."
Fred ignored his brother's terrible acting. The moment his boot touched the mud, he began sinking.
The thick sludge clamped around his ankle before creeping steadily up his leg.
"See the main feature?" Fred asked calmly despite being swallowed by the floor. "The swamp creates an incredibly powerful localized suction force. Once someone steps inside, brute strength alone won't get them back out."
He tried pulling his leg free.
The mud didn't move at all.
"This would make an excellent battlefield control tool," Maurise said with an approving nod. He glanced toward Neville. "What do you think?"
Neville blinked slowly, his exhausted brain struggling to process what he was seeing.
"I... I don't think I'd ever get out of that."
"Exactly!" Fred laughed triumphantly. "Even George and I can't pull ourselves free. The only reliable escape is a specially brewed dissolving potion."
By now, the sludge had swallowed his knee and was steadily climbing toward his thigh.
"Alright, George," Fred said. "Demonstration's over. Hand me the dissolving potion."
George scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
"Er... I think I forgot to bring it."
Fred's triumphant smile disappeared instantly.
"Why are you only mentioning that now?!" he shouted.
George threw up his hands.
"I assumed you packed it!"
"Why would I pack it? You were carrying the prototype!"
"I specifically told you to bring the countermeasure before we left the dormitory!"
The brothers immediately dissolved into a loud argument.
Finally, Fred looked desperately toward Maurise.
"Maurise! Please! Think of something!"
The relentless mud had already reached his upper thigh and was steadily climbing higher.
Maurise stared at him for a moment before sighing.
These two were complete disasters.
He raised a hand, using his necromantic summoning to conjure a heavy iron shovel. Drawing his wand, he cast an Excavation Charm, intending to dig Fred free.
The moment the shovel entered the swamp, however, the magical suction seized it completely, locking it in place.
Maurise stared at the useless shovel in silence for two full seconds before finally speaking.
"How, exactly, did the two of you manage to create a magical trap with such an absurdly powerful restraining force?"
"We found the foundation in an obscure old grimoire," Fred explained through gritted teeth.
At this point, only the upper third of his body remained above the mud. Fortunately, his descent had finally stopped.
"That should be the maximum depth," George said helpfully. "During testing, we deliberately adjusted the enchantment to stop at chest level so the victim wouldn't actually suffocate."
"That's reassuring," Fred muttered. "Though this feels absolutely awful. And I'm fairly certain my trousers are ruined."
Maurise let out another sigh. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, jagged piece of dark stone and tossed it toward Fred.
Fred caught it instinctively.
The moment he recognized the Shadow Stone, understanding dawned across his face.
"Of course!"
The next instant, his body dissolved into shadows, disappearing from the swamp.
A heartbeat later, he stepped out onto the clean carpet beyond the edge of the mud. He was covered from head to toe in foul-smelling sludge and looked utterly miserable.
"Phew..."
Fred let out a long breath before collapsing onto the floor.
"Would you mind explaining how the Portable Swamp works?" Maurise asked, his curiosity immediately returning. "I'm particularly interested in its spatial mechanics."
Fred looked up, wiping a smear of mud from his cheek with a grin.
"Of course. It's only fair after you explained the warding principles behind your ship."
He paused, glancing down at his ruined clothes with obvious disgust.
"First, though, I desperately need a shower."
Maurise casually pointed down the corridor.
"Second door on the left."
Fred blinked.
"You actually installed fully functioning plumbing and showers on this ship?"
"I installed three," Maurise replied with a shrug.
In truth, he had no idea why he had decided the ship needed three separate bathrooms during the construction phase.