The interior of the train looked exactly as Morris had imagined—ordinary, cramped, and filled with noise.
Students crowded every carriage. Laughter, shouting, and animated chatter echoed through the narrow corridor, leaking out even through the closed compartment doors. The excitement of the journey to Hogwarts was palpable, almost tangible in the air.
Unfortunately, Morris had boarded a little too late.
He walked slowly down the aisle, glancing into one compartment after another, only to find them all full. Every seat was taken, some even overfilled with students sitting on luggage or the floor.
There was no helping it. He preferred peace and quiet, but it seemed he would have to compromise.
Finally, near the middle of the train, Morris noticed a compartment that held only three students.
One was a pale blond boy with sharp features and a pointed chin, sitting arrogantly by the window. Opposite him sat two large, chubby boys whose expressions suggested they were more followers than leaders. The blond boy was speaking in a sharp, commanding tone, and the other two nodded along enthusiastically, clearly eager to agree.
Morris stopped and knocked lightly on the compartment door.
The conversation ended abruptly.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him at once.
The blond boy looked Morris up and down, his gaze lingering briefly on Morris's plain robes and then drifting to the black cat cradled in his arms. His brows knit together almost imperceptibly, as though something displeased him.
"What is it?" the blond boy asked, his voice edged with annoyance at being interrupted.
"Excuse me," Morris said calmly, his tone polite and measured. "Is there a seat available here?"
The blond boy did not answer immediately.
Instead, one of the chubby boys beside him spoke up gruffly, his words heavy with exclusion. "It's full. Draco doesn't like being disturbed."
The blond boy—Draco—raised his chin slightly, looking satisfied, as if the response had been exactly what he wanted.
"I see," Morris replied evenly. "Sorry to bother you."
Their attitude was clear enough. Morris had no intention of forcing the issue or making a scene. He turned to leave without further argument.
Just as he stepped away, he heard a sharp click of a tongue behind him.
"Tsk… another one who doesn't know the rules," Draco sneered openly. "Look at those robes—and that strange cat. Probably another mudblood."
Morris paused for a brief moment.
Mudblood?
He didn't know much about wizarding slurs yet, but the malice in Draco's voice made the meaning painfully obvious.
How childish, he thought.
There was no point wasting energy on brats like that. If fate allowed, he would teach them a lesson someday. Children who relied on inherited arrogance often needed a firm reminder of reality.
With a faint shake of his head, Morris continued down the corridor.
"Hello," he said again at another compartment door. "Is there a seat available?"
The door slid open.
"Uh… sure," a boy inside replied after a brief hesitation. "If you don't mind."
"Thank you."
This compartment was occupied by three older students, all noticeably taller than Morris. Two of them were red-haired twins who looked so alike they could only be brothers, while the third was a tall, dark-skinned boy with long dreadlocks and a friendly face.
Morris placed his luggage just outside the compartment and sat down beside the boy with dreadlocks, keeping the black cat—Canned Food—resting comfortably in his arms.
"Um… hello," the boy greeted him, sounding slightly uncertain.
"Hello," Morris replied with a nod.
After that, he adjusted his breathing, straightened his back, and gently closed his eyes. Within seconds, he slipped into a light meditative state, shutting out the noise of the train.
Canned Food seemed to sense the change in atmosphere. The cat stretched lazily, curled itself tighter against Morris, and closed its eyes as well.
An unusual silence settled over the compartment.
The other three boys exchanged glances, expressions filled with confusion.
What a strange kid.
"Ahem." The boy with dreadlocks cleared his throat, attempting to dispel the odd stillness. Leaning slightly toward Morris, he asked, "Are you a new student?"
Morris opened his eyes immediately. He had planned to spend the journey quietly, but since the other boy had spoken first, ignoring him would be rude.
"Yes," Morris replied with a small smile.
"Oh! I'm Lee Jordan," the boy said quickly, looking relieved. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Morris's presence had given him a strange sense of pressure earlier—like standing too close to a deep, dark well.
Lee gestured to the twins across from them. "These are Fred Weasley and George Weasley. We're third-years in Gryffindor."
"I'm Morris Black," Morris said simply. "You can call me Morris."
"Black?!"
Fred and George shouted in perfect unison, springing upright as if shocked by an electric current. Their previously relaxed grins vanished instantly.
The air inside the compartment grew tense.
Morris blinked, surprised. "Is something wrong?"
George stared at him carefully. "Your parents are…?"
The question was abrupt and not particularly polite, but Morris understood there was something deeper behind it.
"Oh, don't overthink it," Morris said calmly. "I'm from the Muggle side."
The twins let out long sighs of relief at the same time, collapsing back into their seats.
"That's good, then," Fred said with a grin.
Morris's silver-gray eyes flickered with curiosity. "Is there something wrong with the surname 'Black' in the wizarding world?"
Fred and George exchanged a look.
"It's nothing," George said quickly, waving his hand. "Don't worry about it."
Fred added lightly, "Some wizarding families just… have reputations. Not all surnames are liked. Like Malfoy."
The twins glanced at each other and burst into laughter, sharing the unspoken understanding only twins seemed capable of.
Morris nodded, though he didn't fully grasp the meaning. He had skimmed a few history books from Diagon Alley, but family politics clearly ran deeper than he had realized.
As for his own surname, the truth behind it was almost ridiculous.
Morris had grown up in an orphanage. Though he possessed awareness from a very young age, childhood memories were fragmented and chaotic. He couldn't remember when his thoughts had truly become clear.
What he did remember was a caregiver mentioning, years later, that his surname had been chosen by lottery.
Apparently, for amusement, the caregivers had placed slips of paper with different surnames into an old hat and let the nameless children draw one at random.
"Morris Black" had been the result.
It wasn't a particularly common name, but Morris had never felt attached to it. To him, a name was just a label—nothing more.
At that moment, Lee Jordan's attention shifted to the black cat resting quietly in Morris's lap.
"Did you buy your cat in Diagon Alley?" Lee asked, pointing.
Fred and George leaned forward as well. They had been curious about the cat from the beginning.
Its hollow eyes and cold, unnatural aura were unsettling. It didn't feel like an ordinary pet.
"No," Morris said, shaking his head. "I didn't buy it. It's just a stray I picked up."
Lee frowned slightly. "Mate, Muggle cats aren't very useful. They mostly just eat and sleep. If you want a cat, you should get one from the Magical Menagerie. Those are smarter—some can warn you of danger or help you find things."
Fred and George nodded in agreement.
"Hm…" Morris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But my cat is very smart. It can even do acrobatics."
He placed Canned Food gently on the floor and spoke solemnly.
"Good cat. Do the splits."
Canned Food stared at him.
Its eyes filled with unmistakable disdain—human-like and sharp. It even tilted its head, as though questioning Morris's sanity.
"What a waste," Morris muttered, clicking his tongue. "Fireworks is better…"
Immediately, Canned Food dropped into a flawless split.
"!"
The other three stared in stunned silence.
The train rattled on toward Hogwarts, carrying with it a boy whose name meant far more than anyone realized—and a cat that clearly understood more than it should.
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