Morris didn't care about Knockturn Alley's rules and unwritten codes of conduct.
For him, taking decisive action didn't require any special reason, complex justification, or lengthy moral deliberation.
He found Frick fairly agreeable as a person and wanted to help him out of this predicament.
Moreover, this fellow called Krenk was clearly no good person by any reasonable standard. And he'd even had ideas about Morris himself, a harmless child just passing through.
He, Morris Black, was that petty when it came to people who disrespected him!
The very instant the Bone-Summoning Spell's incantation finished leaving Morris's lips.
Without any warning, without any preliminary signs, three massive bone spikes as thick as grown men's forearms suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of Morris.
The bone spikes shot forward with terrifying speed toward the three men, moving so rapidly they were almost invisible.
Too fast!
The savage, mocking grin on Krenk's brutal face hadn't even had time to transform into an expression of shock or fear.
Then the cold, hard sensation of bone pressed firmly against the skin of his neck, right over his carotid artery.
A sharp, stinging pain followed immediately as the tip broke through the first layer of skin.
What... what was happening?
Krenk's mind struggled to process the sudden reversal, his thoughts were moving sluggishly compared to the speed of Morris's attack.
One moment he'd been threatening a child. The next moment, something sharp and cold was against his throat, and he was completely helpless.
He didn't dare make any movement. Even swallowing seemed dangerous when that bone spike was pressed so close against his throat.
Moving his eyes but not his head, Krenk glanced to his left henchman and saw a pale, gleaming bone spike hovering steadily by the man's temple, creating a small puncture wound. A single bead of bright red blood welled up from the tiny hole and began to trickle slowly down the man's pale face.
The situation with the accomplice on Krenk's other side was similar—another bone spike pressed menacingly against his temple as well, though this one had penetrated slightly more deeply into the flesh. The wound was more substantial, and blood was dripping down the man's cheek.
So the situation was now quite clear.
Three bone spikes, three lethal positions, three men completely neutralized in less than two seconds.
The shop suddenly fell into oppressive silence.
"Don't move," Morris said softly, his tone was calm. "I'm not very skilled at controlling this spell yet... Ah, damn, you're already bleeding."
Hearing these terrifying words spoken in such a calm, casual tone, Krenk felt his blood running cold in his veins. His hands trembled slightly, and cold sweat broke out across his forehead and back, soaking his shirt.
He didn't dare gamble on whether Morris's hand might shake or slip.
After all, this was Knockturn Alley—a place where death was cheap and life held little value. People disappeared here regularly, and nobody asked too many questions. Bodies were found in alleys or simply never found at all.
What in Merlin's name was the background of this young child? What kind of family produced an eleven-year-old who could casually summon bone constructs and threaten grown wizards with lethal force while maintaining such disturbing calmness?
A child— a child! —had gained complete control over three adult wizards almost instantaneously!
And he'd done it without even using a wand!
This was insane!
Frick stood to the side, staring blankly at this bizarre scene, not daring to breathe too loudly.
"What are you standing there for?" Morris glanced at Frick with a hint of exasperation and said with helpless impatience. "The atmosphere and positioning are perfect—help me out and knock them unconscious. Otherwise, I'll just have to drive these spikes home and send them to meet Merlin."
"Uh... oh! Right, yes, of course!"
Only then did Frick belatedly snap out of his shock and spring into action. He raised his wand with somewhat shaky hands and began rapidly casting Stunning Spells at the three men.
"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"
Three jets of red light shot from his wand, striking each man in the chest.
The three thugs didn't even manage a grunt of pain or surprise before their eyes rolled back in their heads and they collapsed heavily to the floor.
Morris leaned casually against the shop's wooden counter, his posture was relaxed and thoughtful, lost in contemplative analysis of what had just occurred.
Although his bone spikes had manifested and moved with impressive speed just now, in reality, if the three men had been properly focused and paying attention when he first began casting the Bone-Summoning Spell, they could have reacted in time to defend themselves.
At the very least, they could have adopted a defensive posture, raised Shield Charms, or made evasive movements to dodge the projectiles, rather than being so easily taken down and controlled as they had been.
Ultimately, their defeat came down to a error in judgment: they had been far too overconfident and dismissive.
They simply hadn't taken the potential threat from a child seriously at all.
And that fatal underestimation was one of Morris's greatest advantages in any confrontation.
After dealing with the three unconscious bodies sprawled across his shop floor, Frick turned his attention toward Morris.
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Black," he said carefully, his voice was sincere.
"Mm." Morris nodded faintly in acknowledgment, accepting the thanks but not making a big production of it. "So, why exactly were these three men looking to make trouble for you in the first place?...Oh, if you don't want to explain, that's perfectly fine too. I'm not that interested in your personal business affairs."
Frick sighed deeply. His shoulders slumped slightly.
"That's a rather long story," he began, his voice taking on a weary tone.
Morris had opened his mouth, fully intending to say "since it's a long story, perhaps don't tell it," but Frick had already begun narrating the tale on his own.
"Three months ago, I borrowed a sum of Galleons from someone. The interest was very high, but I had no choice. No legitimate bank would lend to someone in my line of work, and I was desperate.
The agreed repayment date was the end of last month. I paid back every last Knut, principal and interest. But now they're claiming I owe them additional money! They're demanding I pay an extra two thousand Galleons as a so-called 'handling fee' that was never mentioned in our original agreement!"
He grew more and more agitated as he spoke, his face was flushing with fury.
Morris listened carefully and roughly understood the situation—this was a textbook case of predatory loan sharking combined with extortion.
Frick suddenly kicked the unconscious Krenk on the floor. He spat on the floor near the thug's head and cursed bitterly, his voice was dripping with hatred.
"Greedy dogs—they get a taste of a little blood and refuse to let go! They're like leeches, sucking and sucking until there's nothing left! Last time, they nearly hurt members of my family."
Morris nodded thoughtfully, processing this information.
In Knockturn Alley, such predatory practices and violent enforcement were probably normal enough to be considered standard business procedure.
"So what are you planning to do next?" Morris asked, looking down at the three unconscious men sprawled across the floor like discarded garbage. "Dispose of the bodies?"
Hearing this calm question about murder and body disposal from an eleven-year-old child, Frick was started, his eyes widened with shock.
"Oh, of course not!" he said quickly, waving his hands in a gesture of denial. "I just need to use Memory Charms—remove some necessary memories from their heads. Then neither you nor I will have any trouble from this incident."
He seemed eager to reassure Morris.
"Trust me on this—no one's better at Memory Charms than I am," Frick added with a hint of pride creeping into his voice.
"That's probably for the best," Morris agreed, nodding his approval.
Memory Charms really were remarkably convenient spells.
Perhaps he could try learning the Obliviate spell himself when he had some free time later, Morris thought.
Frick immediately began the process of casting Memory Charms on the three unconscious men.
He crouched down beside Krenk's sprawled body, put his wand tip against the man's temple where the bone spike had been moments before, and began murmuring softly in a concentrated tone.
"Obliviate."
A thread-like substance that resembled silvery-white smoke began to flow slowly from Krenk's temple, drawn out along the length of Frick's wand like water being siphoned through a tube.
The silvery thread grew longer and thicker as Frick concentrated, pulling out what must have been hours of memories. The extracted memories wriggled and twisted in the air for a moment before dissipating completely into nothingness.
Morris watched this process observing every detail.
Frick repeated the same procedure with the other two men.
After finishing with all three victims, Frick wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and explained to Morris.
"Now I need to dump them somewhere far away from here," he said, already moving toward the shop's back room.
With that, he waved his wand in a complex pattern and cast Levitation Charms on the three unconscious men. The bodies rose smoothly into the air, floating like helium balloons.
Frick retrieved a large black canvas bag from a storage shelf and proceeded to stuff all three men wholesale into it, bending their limbs and compressing them like he was packing luggage.
He dragged the bag toward the door, grunting slightly with the effort despite the Levitation Charms reducing the weight.
"I'll be back shortly," Frick called over his shoulder as he maneuvered the bag through the doorway and out.
Three minutes later, he returned to the shop, closing the door behind him.
"All right," Frick said with satisfaction, clapping his hands together in a gesture of completion and dusting off his palms.
His tone was considerably lighter and easier now. "Completely resolved. Thank you again, Mr. Black. I genuinely appreciate your intervention."
Morris shrugged casually. "Since you're thanking me so sincerely, let's have something practical to go along with the verbal gratitude."
He'd never been one to refuse tangible compensation when it was offered. Mere verbal expressions of appreciation wouldn't pay for books or potion ingredients or ritual materials.
Frick paused, processing this direct request, then nodded in understanding and agreement.
"Of course, that's perfectly fair. As long as your request is within my ability to grant, what do you need? Name it, and if I can provide it, I will."
Morris immediately said, "Remember that human skeleton I wanted to buy from you during the summer holiday?" he asked directly. "Sell me that skeleton now. I still want it."
"Uh..." Frick's expression immediately stiffened.
"Is that not possible?" Morris frowned, his tone sharpening slightly with disappointment and suspicion. Was Frick going to refuse even after claiming he'd grant any reasonable request?
An extremely awkward expression appeared on Frick's face. He looked genuinely embarrassed rather than evasive.
"Mr. Black, I'll be completely honest with you—that particular skeleton... was stolen," he admitted reluctantly. "I no longer have it to sell you even if I wanted to."
"Really?" Morris asked skeptically.
He strongly suspected this was just a excuse to refuse the request without technically breaking his promise.
"Absolutely true, I swear it," Frick insisted, and he did appear genuinely regretful rather than deceptive.
"About two weeks ago, I discovered my warehouse had been burgled by a professional thief. Multiple items were stolen, including that specific human skeleton you'd asked about before. The thief was very professional and skilled—didn't leave any traces, and bypassed my security wards cleanly."
Morris felt somewhat speechless and deflated at this explanation.
From Frick's expression and body language, he genuinely didn't seem to be lying. The embarrassment and frustration appeared totally authentic.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence grew awkward.
Frick maintained his uncomfortable, embarrassed expression.
As a veteran who had operated and survived in Knockturn Alley for many years, building a reputation and establishing a successful business in this hostile environment, having his warehouse burgled so cleanly was...
Embarrassing. Deeply embarrassing!
If his acquaintances and business contacts in Knockturn Alley found out about this security failure, it would become his laughingstock for the next several years at minimum. He'd never hear the end of the jokes and mockery.
"In that case," Morris said slowly, stroking his chin thoughtfully as a new idea began to form in his mind, "I have a different business proposal that might interest you. Do you want to hear it?"
"What sort of proposal?" Frick asked with genuine curiosity, his embarrassment fading as he focused on Morris's changed expression.
Morris smiled faintly. He turned his gaze to the Skeleton Dog sitting quietly and obediently to the side.
"Mr. Frick, do you think skeleton dogs like this one would sell well?"