Seeing Morris continuing to repeatedly poke his hand through Nearly Headless Nick's ghost body, Cho Chang hurriedly reached across the table and grabbed his sleeve.
"Stop that! You can't just touch ghosts so casually!"
Morris withdrew his hand reluctantly, looking puzzled. "What's wrong? Sir Nicholas doesn't seem angry or offended. He was laughing about it."
"It's not about whether he's angry or not," Cho Chang explained with seriousness. "Ghosts carry a special aura. If living people have prolonged contact with ghosts, especially physical contact passing through their forms, they could very well fall ill. Sometimes seriously."
She paused, then added, "Last year, a third-year Hufflepuff student spent one entire night in the same room as a ghost, talking with them for hours. He ended up in the hospital wing for a full week later."
"All right, thank you for the warning," Morris said, nodding thoughtfully as he processed this new information.
So, there were actual medical consequences to ghost interaction beyond just the cold sensation. Interesting.
Nearly Headless Nick, who had been listening to this exchange with interest, gracefully adjusted his lace collar.
"This young lady is quite right," he confirmed, giving Cho an approving nod. "Though it's certainly not our intention to cause harm, ghosts truly aren't suitable for excessive physical contact with the living.
But please don't worry too much, young friend. Brief contact such as what you just experienced is completely harmless."
In truth, Morris felt no discomfort at all from his ghost contact. On the contrary, that peculiar icy sensation had made him feel exceptionally refreshed, almost invigorated.
He was confident that ghosts could never actually harm him, not in the way they might harm normal students.
However, since someone had kindly warned him about potential danger, and since drawing attention to his unusual resistance would raise questions he didn't want to answer, it was better to comply with social expectations and avoid excessive ghost touching.
No need to mark himself as even more unusual than he already was on his very first night.
Afterward, Nearly Headless Nick gave one final dramatic bow and floated away back toward the Gryffindor table.
Morris's first direct encounter with a ghost had come to an end, though he was already planning future investigations.
The feast continued for a while longer, students finishing their desserts and engaging in increasingly loud conversation as the evening wore on. Then Dumbledore stood once more, raising his hands for attention.
The headmaster delivered a speech that included several concerning announcements: the Forbidden Forest was off-limits to all students (a rule apparently routinely ignored), Quidditch tryouts would be held in the second week of term, and Mr. Filch the caretaker had asked him to remind students that magic should not be used in the corridors between classes.
But it was his final warning that really captured attention:
"Finally, I must tell everyone that anyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death should avoid the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor this year."
The announcement was met with scattered nervous laughter, students were uncertain whether this was a joke or a genuine warning.
After this straightforward declaration of mortal danger, Dumbledore conducted the entire school in singing the school song—an event that was charmingly chaotic, with everyone choosing their own tune and tempo, resulting in a rather disjointed but enthusiastic rendition.
Finally, mercifully, it was time to return to the dormitories. Students began standing, stretching, preparing to leave.
The first-year students needed to follow their respective house prefects to learn the way to their common rooms and dormitories. Ravenclaw's prefect was a tall, thin boy with brown hair and a resourceful manner.
He gathered the new Ravenclaws near the entrance, though Morris didn't catch his name during the initial introduction.
As Morris walked with the group through the castle's corridors, he kept thinking about what the headmaster had said at the very end of his speech.
That warning about the fourth-floor corridor and painful death.
The phrasing had been odd—so direct and specific that it seemed less like a genuine deterrent and more like a deliberate provocation to student curiosity. If Dumbledore truly wanted to keep students away, wouldn't he simply lock the corridor and not mention it at all?
It had to be said that the old headmaster knew exactly how to stir things up and manipulate student interest.
Even Morris, who was normally quite cautious and risk-averse, couldn't help but feel intrigued by what might be hidden in that forbidden corridor. What could possibly warrant such a dramatic warning? What was dangerous enough to cause a "most painful death"?
However, he quickly suppressed the curious impulse.
Going to investigate now would be far too hasty, too reckless. He'd only just arrived at Hogwarts, knew nothing about the castle's layout or security measures, had nothing to rely upon if something went wrong.
More importantly, he vaguely sensed this matter might be connected to Harry Potter somehow.
Unless he had thorough preparation and understood what he was walking into, maintaining a careful distance was the wise course of action.
Under the prefect's guidance, Morris and the other new Ravenclaws followed the group up the staircase from the Entrance Hall. They proceeded through a long corridor lined with portraits whose occupants watched them pass with interest, then up a narrow spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever, winding higher and higher into one of the castle's towers.
Finally, somewhat out of breath from the climb, they arrived before a strange wooden door unlike any Morris had seen before.
A bronze eagle-shaped door knocker was embedded in the center of the door. The eagle's feathers were individually detailed, and its eyes seemed to gleam with intelligence.
"Welcome to the Ravenclaw common room," the prefect announced, turning to face the first-years with a proper smile. "I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'll be showing you how to access your new home. As you can see, unlike the other houses, there's no fixed password here."
Robert gestured toward the eagle-shaped knocker with pride. "To enter the common room, you must answer a question posed by this knocker. It might be a riddle, a logic puzzle, a philosophical query, or even occasionally a joke that requires lateral thinking. If you answer correctly, the door opens immediately. If you answer incorrectly..."
He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Then you can only wait outside until another Ravenclaw comes along and answers correctly, allowing you to enter with them. Or you can attempt the question again after a suitable interval. The knocker will usually offer a new question if you wait long enough."
This announcement caused a slight stir among the new students. Several looked nervous, clearly worried about being locked out of their own common room. Others seemed intrigued by the intellectual challenge.
Morris examined this unique entrance system with interest—it was indeed very Ravenclaw in character.
Unfortunately, Morris had to acknowledge that he wasn't particularly good at riddles.
Robert turned back toward the knocker and gently tapped the bronze eagle's head with one knuckle.
The eagle-shaped knocker suddenly came to life. Its beak opened, and it spoke in a clear, melodious voice:
"What becomes more the more it is shared?"
"You see?" Robert turned back to the first-years and shrugged. "A reasonable riddle, not too difficult. I believe all Ravenclaws should be able to answer this one. The answer is 'knowledge'—the more knowledge is shared, the more it multiplies and grows, rather than being diminished."
As he spoke the answer aloud, there came the sound of complex mechanisms turning inside the door. The bronze eagle on the wooden door folded its wings, and the door swung open automatically.
"Please enter, everyone," Robert stepped aside to clear the passage, making a welcoming gesture with his arm. "Welcome to your new home for the next seven years."
Morris walked through the archway with the crowd of first-years.
The first thing that caught his eye was a wall featuring a giant stone eagle carving. Its wings were spread, its beak open, and its talons were gripping a banner with the Ravenclaw house motto. Curved stone staircases spiraled up on both side of this magnificent sculpture, leading to the upper level.
Following Robert up the right-hand staircase, the true appearance of the Ravenclaw common room revealed itself in full.
It was genuinely breathtaking—easily the most beautiful room Morris had seen since arriving at Hogwarts.
The space was circular, taking up what must be the entire interior of this tower. A high domed ceiling arched over their head, painted midnight blue and decorated with stars that actually twinkled, mimicking the night sky outside.
The walls were lined with tall arched windows hung with blue silk curtains, offering spectacular views of the Hogwarts grounds—the lake glimmered in the distance, and the dark forest formed a boundary at the edge of visibility.
The floor was covered in deep blue carpet woven with complex patterns of spheres and stars. Several sets of comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs in various shades of blue and bronze were arranged around a large fireplace where a warm fire crackled.
Tables stood between the seating areas, and scattered books lay on various surfaces—some abandoned mid-reading, others stacked neatly, all indicating active use.
Most eye-catching of all was the white marble statue standing at the very top of the stairs, positioned to oversee the entire common room. It depicted a witch of elegant air beautiful noble facial features and holding a wand in one hand and a book in the other.
Morris guessed this must be the founder of the house—Rowena Ravenclaw herself, one of the four legendary founders of Hogwarts.
Robert gestured around the room with pride. "The common room has two levels, as you can see. Going up the central staircase behind the statue, you'll find your dormitories—boys' dormitories on the right, girls' dormitories on the left. I'll give you your specific dormitory numbers shortly."
He paused, then added with a smile, "For now, you're free to look around as you please. Explore, get comfortable, meet your housemates. This is your space."
The students immediately became lively. They began to wander about in small groups, examining the books, testing the softness of the chairs, peering out the windows at the night view, whispering excitedly to each other about their good fortune in being sorted into such a beautiful common room.
Morris, however, separated from the group and made his way directly to an armchair near the fireplace. The seat was upholstered in blue fabric and looked extremely comfortable. He sank into it with satisfaction, feeling the cushions adapt to his body.
From this position, he could survey his surroundings while enjoying the warmth of the fire.
'What a pleasant environment,' he thought, nodding with approval. Far superior to the cramped, shabby dormitory at the children's home. This was luxury by comparison—space, comfort, beauty, access to knowledge.
He could definitely get used to living here.
As he settled in, Morris noticed a book that had apparently fallen or been carelessly dropped on the floor beside his chair. Curious about what subjects interested Ravenclaw students enough to be reading in the common room, he leaned down and picked it up.
Surely the books that Ravenclaw students read would be intellectually stimulating—advanced spell theory, perhaps, or magical history, or natural philosophy.
He turned the book over to look at the title on the cover:
How to Win the Heart of a Male Wizard: A Comprehensive Guide
"..."
Morris stared at the title for a long moment, processing this unexpected discovery.
Then, with great care, he closed the book and silently returned it to its original position on the floor beside the chair, placing it exactly where he'd found it.
It seemed this common room was more socially complex and potentially dangerous than he'd initially imagined.
About three minutes later, Robert returned to the center of the common room. He stood near the fireplace and cleared his throat loudly to gather attention.
"First years, over here please," he called out.
The new students immediately gathered around in a loose semicircle, Morris included. He rose from his chair and joined the group.
Robert unfolded a piece of parchment he'd been carrying and consulted it briefly before speaking. "Right then. This year Ravenclaw has only five male first-years—not too many compared to some years when we've had eight or nine. Dormitories are normally assigned four students to a room."
He looked up from the parchment. "However, due to the odd numbers this year, one person will need to live in a room alone. The single room is somewhat more spacious than the standard dormitories."
Robert observed the gathered first-years, gauging their reactions. "Does anyone wish to volunteer for the single dormitory?"
The new students looked at each other and began whispering nervously among themselves, clearly uncertain how to respond to this unexpected choice.
Most appeared genuinely hesitant.
Although a private room sounded appealing in theory, for eleven-year-old children far from home, spending the night alone in an unfamiliar castle was clearly somewhat frightening. Even if that castle was Hogwarts, it was still filled with ghosts and moving staircases and all manner of strange magic.
"Any volunteers?" Robert asked again after giving them time to consider.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Morris raised his hand without hesitation. Privacy and solitude sounded perfect to him.
At almost the exact same moment, another student also raised his hand—a black-haired boy Morris hadn't paid much attention to during the sorting.
They made eye contact briefly, both realizing they'd volunteered simultaneously.
Seeing two volunteers, Robert breathed a long sigh of relief—he'd genuinely been afraid no one would be willing to take the single room, which would have made dormitory arrangements unnecessarily complicated and required him to assign someone randomly.
"Very good," Robert said with satisfaction, glancing down at his list to confirm their names. "Morris Black, and... Kyle Chesterfield. Excellent. However, we have a small problem—there's only one single room available. Since you both want it..."
He trailed off, clearly trying to figure out a fair way to resolve this conflict.
"Duel!" a voice suddenly shouted from across the common room.
It was an older student who'd been watching the dormitory assignment process with amusement. The shout was followed immediately by a burst of laughter from several other upperclassmen who were apparently entertained by the idea of first-years fighting over a bedroom.
"Don't interrupt, Cyril," Robert said, glaring at the troublemaker helplessly.
He turned back to Morris and Kyle, considering options. "How about a competition, following Ravenclaw tradition? Oh, definitely not a magical duel—you're first-years, that would be ridiculous and dangerous. But perhaps a regarding spells? Whoever solves it first gets the single room?"