The Thestral landed lightly beside Morris's boat with elegance, as if the water's surface were solid ground beneath its hooves. It made no sound at all—no splash, no impact, nothing to disturb the lake's mirror-smooth surface or attract the attention of the other first-years in their boats ahead.
It walked alongside Morris's boat, matching the vessel's enchanted pace perfectly, staying particularly close—close enough that Morris could clearly see every detail of its smooth, translucent skin.
Up close, the creature was even more striking than it had been in flight.
"Hello?" Morris tentatively greeted it, keeping his voice low so it wouldn't carry to the boats ahead. He wasn't sure if this creature could understand human language. But it seemed intelligent.
The Thestral's pair of white pupils turned toward him. They watched Morris with unsettling intensity, as if able to penetrate beyond physical appearance and see directly into the depths of his soul.
For some reason, Morris could clearly sense the affection that this mysterious creature was conveying to him. It wasn't threatening or wary or curious in the detached way animals usually were with strangers. It was genuinely warm, almost welcoming, as if recognizing something kindred in him.
And coincidentally or perhaps not coincidentally at all—he also felt an inexplicable fondness for this strange creature in return.
Morris tentatively reached out his hand, wanting to stroke the Thestral's head. His fingers extended slowly, giving the creature every opportunity to pull away if it wanted.
Not only did the Thestral not dodge, it actually moved its forehead closer, pressing into his touch with what seemed like eagerness.
Morris felt as though he was touching a warm, skin-covered skull—this was a living animal, not an undead creature like Tin-Tin or Sparkles.
He stroked gently along the Thestral's forehead and down its long nose, feeling the creature lean into the touch.
Just as Morris was immersed in this wonderful sensation, the Thestral suddenly leaned forward. It gently nudged him with its head in one smooth, motion, lifted him from the small boat and tossed him onto its back.
"!"
Morris's hands instinctively shot out and grabbed onto the prominent spine protruding from the Thestral's neck. His legs clamped around the creature's sides, but he didn't cry out or shout in alarm.
He knew the creature before him harbored no malicious intent toward him—perhaps this was simply its unique way of expressing friendliness.
The Thestral didn't wait for verbal permission. Immediately after Morris had secured his grip, it spread its enormous bat-like wings with a sound like canvas unfurling. The membrane caught the night air, and with two powerful sliding strokes, they lifted into the sky.
The sensation was indescribable.
One moment Morris was sitting in a boat on water, the next he was flying, rising rapidly into the night with nothing but a skeletal horse between him and a very long fall.
The night wind rushed against his face with force, pressing his robes flat against his body, pulling tears from the corners of his eyes. He looked down and watched the small boat he'd been sitting in just moments ago gradually recede below, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just another dark shape on the water's surface.
Morris couldn't suppress the sneeze that burst from him—the wind was cold at this altitude, much colder than it had been at ground level, and he was dressed for September evening temperatures, not for high-altitude flight.
Despite the absence of any safety measures, the flight was remarkably stable.
It seemed to deliberately slow its speed, gently rather than making sharp turns, allowing Morris time to adjust to the sensation of being inflight. Giving him the chance to find his balance, to learn how to move with its body.
Morris gradually relaxed his grip, letting himself feel the motion more naturally. The Thestral climbed steadily, spiraling up in wide, lazy circles.
Before he knew it, they had reached a very high altitude—higher than he'd ever been in either life. The boats below looked tiny now, and he could see the entire area of the Black Lake spread out beneath them.
The view was absolutely breathtaking.
The Black Lake resembled an enormous ink-colored mirror, its surface was so still and perfect that it reflected the sky full of stars with clearness. Above and below seemed to merge, creating the dizzying illusion of flying through space itself, surrounded by stars in every direction.
Those small boats carrying the first years looked exactly like a string of luminous pearls, slowly moving across the lake's dark surface in a gentle arc. Their enchanted lanterns created points of warm light that contrasted beautifully with the cold starlight above.
Truly... an intoxicating sight.
The beauty of it, the sheer overwhelming majesty of the moment, broke through his usual emotional control.
Morris instinctively spread his arms wide, releasing his grip on the Thestral's neck. He let out a shout of pure exhilaration, a release of joy he rarely allowed himself to feel.
The Thestral beneath him, infected by his emotion or perhaps simply pleased by his response, released a soft neigh in reply.
"Well then, dear friend," Morris bent down, bringing his mouth close to where the Thestral's ear would be, and called out loudly to be heard over the wind. "Take me for a tour of the area!!"
He paused, then added, "But it would be best if you could get me back within ten minutes. I should probably rejoin the group before they notice I'm missing and someone panics."
The Thestral adjusted its wings and began a glide around the perimeter of the castle grounds, giving Morris an aerial view of his new school.
Meanwhile, on the ground far below, the older students were traveling to the castle in carriages pulled by Thestrals—though of course, most of them couldn't see the creatures doing the pulling and simply assumed the carriages moved by magic alone.
In one particular carriage, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were lounging comfortably, chatting in leisurely way.
"Have you noticed," Lee Jordan said, looking around at the empty compartment with only the three of them, "why no one else wants to ride in the same carriage with us? I mean, there were other students who needed transport. We could have easily fit four or five people in here."
Fred lounged lazily against his seat, legs stretched out, tossing and catching a Fizzing Whizzbee with ease. The candy buzzed and vibrated in his hand each time he caught it.
"Probably because George burst two Dungbombs in this carriage last year. The smell lingered for weeks. I don't think it ever fully came out of the upholstery."
George immediately turned toward Fred with indignation. "Wasn't that you who set off the Dungbombs? I remember you being the one holding them when they exploded."
"Was it?" Fred paused mid-throw, the Fizzing Whizzbee hovered in the air for a moment. He caught it absently. "Huh. You might be right. Or we both did it. Hard to remember."
"It was definitely you," George insisted.
"If you say so," Fred said agreeably, popping the candy into his mouth.
Lee Jordan sighed quietly, a long-suffering sound he'd perfected over three years of friendship with the twins.
He recalled last year's incident that had become known throughout Gryffindor as the "Death Carriage." The smell had been truly apocalyptic. Students had complained for weeks. Professor McGonagall had been furious.
These two were really... impossible. Sometimes he wondered if he should perhaps find some other friends. Normal friends who didn't attract constant chaos and punishment.
But then again, where was the fun in normal friends?
He turned his attention to gazing boredly out the window—Hogwarts Castle was already visible in the darkness ahead, its towers silhouetted against the starry sky.
"Speaking of which," he said casually, still looking out at the passing scenery, "what do you two think of Morris Black? That first-year we shared a compartment with?"
"Interesting kid," Fred answered without hesitation, sitting up slightly with attention. "Clever. Strange, but in a good way. I bet he'll be sorted into Gryffindor."
"Agreed," George nodded firmly. "He's got that quality. You know, the willingness to do things just to see what happens. Very Gryffindor."
Lee Jordan made a noncommittal sound, his expression becoming thoughtful as he continued to stare out the window.
He thought again of that strange black cat.
Just then, Lee heard an extremely faint sound—tap, tap, tap—as if someone was knocking gently on the carriage window. Or perhaps something was hitting the glass.
He turned his head toward the sound, expecting to see nothing interesting, perhaps an owl that had miscalculated its flight path.
Instead, he saw a scene he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams.
"Moo... Morris!!?" The name came out as a strangled exclamation, somewhere between a gasp and a shout.
Hearing Lee Jordan's shock, the Weasley twins immediately abandoned their argument and rushed to the window, nearly trampling each other in their rush.
Morris's face was right there outside the window. Just... floating in the air beside their moving carriage, as casual as if he were standing on solid ground.
"!!!!"
The three of them fumbled frantically to roll down the window, their hands were getting in each other's way.
They managed to get it open just as Morris waved at them—a cheerful, normal wave like he was greeting them across a classroom rather than while flying unsupported through the night sky beside a moving carriage.
He appeared to be sitting in a riding posture in midair. Flying effortlessly alongside their carriage, matching its speed.
Then, before any of them could speak or shout a question, Morris's figure simply vanished. One moment he was there, the next moment he was gone as if he'd never existed at all.
For a moment, none of them spoke. They just stared at the empty night air where Morris had been, their minds were struggling to process what they'd just seen.
"Did I just see things?" Lee Jordan finally managed; his voice was weak with disbelief. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. "Was there... someone floating outside the window just now? Or did I imagine it?"
Fred and George looked at each other, their identical faces wearing identical expressions of shocked wonder.
"If that was a hallucination," George said slowly, as if testing each word, "then all three of us had the exact same hallucination at the exact same time."
Fred propped his chin on his hand. "Let's ask Morris about it later when we see him at the castle. We need to know how he did that." He paused, then added, "That guy really isn't simple. Not simple at all."
"Understatement of the year," Lee muttered, still staring out the window with wide eyes.
Perhaps because he had enjoyed the flight a bit too much, allowing himself to be swept up in the exhilaration of the experience, by the time the Thestral carried Morris back down to the Black Lake's shore, it was somewhat late.
All the boats had already completed their crossing and docked at the far shore. The first years were nowhere to be seen on the water or along the shoreline—they'd obviously already disembarked and been led away by Hagrid toward the castle.
Morris felt a small twinge of concern. Had anyone noticed his absence?
Fortunately, as Morris scanned the area from his aerial vantage point, he eventually spotted the crowd of first-years. Hagrid's enormous body was impossible to miss, his lantern was swaying as he led the group up stone steps toward the castle's main entrance.
It seemed Morris's brief disappearance hadn't been noticed by anyone—or if it had, they'd assumed he'd simply gotten out of his boat with everyone else and was somewhere in the middle of the group. One first-year among fifty or sixty others was easy to overlook, especially in the dark with everyone focused on not tripping on the stairs.
Relief flooded over through him. He hadn't wanted to start his Hogwarts career by causing alarm or requiring a search party.
To avoid drawing attention now, Morris leaned forward and spoke to his Thestral companion. "Can you carry me directly to the very top of those steps? Set me down ahead of the group?"
The Thestral adjusted its flight path immediately. It circled once, gaining a bit of altitude, then glided smoothly toward the castle. The flight was perfectly silent, and Morris doubted anyone on those stairs was looking up to notice a dark shape against the dark sky.
They landed at the top of the stone steps. Morris slid down from the Thestral's back. He patted the creature's neck in thanks.
The thestral affectionately nuzzled him, then spread its wings and silently merged into the night.
Morris straightened his robes, which had been thoroughly disheveled by the flight, smoothing out wrinkles and adjusting his collar. He tried to make himself presentable.
He looked around, taking in his surroundings properly for the first time.
He was standing at the outer perimeter of Hogwarts Castle proper, having bypassed the main entrance. Before him lay what appeared to be a courtyard area, with archways leading to various parts of the structure.
Since the first-year students hadn't yet arrived at this level—they were still climbing those stairs far below, the courtyard seemed particularly empty and quiet.
He just needed to naturally blend into the group when they passed by this area, Morris thought.
However, at that moment, before he could execute his simple strategy, a voice that Morris found somewhat familiar rang out from the shadows of a nearby archway.
"Mr. Black, I don't think I can pretend I didn't see what just happened."
Morris froze completely; his body went stiff. Every muscle tensed as he processed those words.
Slowly, like someone hoping the threat would disappear if he moved carefully enough, Morris turned toward the direction of the voice.
Professor McGonagall was standing not far away in the shadowed corridor, her square glasses glinting in the moonlight.
She walked briskly closer, her emerald green robes swishing with each step, her hands folded across her chest in that particular way that teachers used when they were definitely not pleased. Her expression wore that habitual sternness that Morris remembered.
"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Morris greeted her with his most charming smile, as if this were a perfectly normal, planned encounter rather than him being caught after an unauthorized magical flight. "It really is quite cold tonight, isn't it? The Highland air has quite a bite to it at this altitude."
He pulled his robes closer at the collar as he spoke, making a show of shivering slightly, acting as if nothing unusual had happened.
"Don't change the subject, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "You rode here on a Thestral, didn't you? I saw you land. I watched you descend from such height on the back of an untamed magical creature."
She paused, then added with what sounded like frustration, "I really didn't expect Hagrid to have let those animals roam free enough to approach the first-years."
'So, they're called thestrals.'
Morris nodded, keeping his tone light and relaxed as he explained, "That Thestral was an enthusiastic little fellow—very friendly. It invited me to take a ride. I really couldn't bring myself to refuse such kindness. It seemed rude to reject the offer."
'An enthusiastic little fellow?'
Professor McGonagall's expression darkened slightly. "Mr. Black, please don't do that again, What you did was extremely dangerous. Although Thestrals are generally docile creatures, high-altitude flight for a first-year student with absolutely no experience or training..."
She trailed off, clearly imagining all the ways that flight could have gone catastrophically wrong. Morris falling, the Thestral being startled by something, bad weather suddenly appearing—a dozen different scenarios, all ending with an injured or dead first-year student before the school year had even properly begun.
Before she could continue her lecture, Hagrid's booming voice echoed from the distance below.
The first-years were nearly here.
Professor McGonagall steadied herself, drawing in a deep breath and composing her face. She lowered her voice in a whisper.
"I will deal with this matter separately, Mr. Black. We will discuss your unauthorized flight and appropriate consequences at a later time." Her eyes bore into his with intensity. "For now, follow me immediately."