Over the following days, Morris thoroughly immersed himself in the experience of Diagon Alley, visiting almost every store, shop, and attraction worth exploring in the famous wizarding shopping district.
Among all the various shops and businesses he visited, the secondhand goods shop and Flourish and Blotts bookstore were unquestionably the places he frequented most often, returning multiple times over the course of those days.
Flourish and Blotts hardly needed much explanation for why it drew Morris's attention so consistently as the massive bookstore was a paradise for anyone intellectually curious.
Morris spent at least twenty-some Galleons over several visits purchasing books that interested him.
The single most expensive buy was a book called Wandering with Werewolves, which cost a staggering five Galleons for a single book. A store clerk had specifically recommended it to Morris with glowing praise.
The main content was about the author himself, Gilderoy Lockhart, helping a village rid itself of a werewolf menace.
After reading it cover to cover in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, Morris had felt a twinge of regret settling in his stomach. Though the story was certainly thrilling and well-written, entertaining even, five Galleons was still far, far too expensive, however you looked at it.
Still, he had to admit, the author Gilderoy Lockhart as depicted in his own book—brave, resourceful, devastatingly handsome according to the author portrait on the back cover, and possessed of extraordinary magical abilities did earn Morris's reluctant admiration.
If even half of what Lockhart claimed about his feats was true, the man was genuinely impressive.
The helpful clerk had mentioned during Morris's purchase that Lockhart had actually published an entire series of autobiographical works documenting his various adventures: Break with a Banshee, Holidays with Hags, Travels with Trolls, Voyages with Vampires, Year with the Yeti, and several others.
Each book sold for exactly five Galleons, and according to the clerk, they were extraordinarily popular with the public even bestsellers that flew off the shelves as fast as the store could stock them.
Gilderoy Lockhart must be an incredibly powerful, talented wizard to have survived so many dangerous encounters with dark creatures, Morris had thought to himself as he left the bookstore.
Someone who could single-handedly deal with werewolf packs, banshees, hags, trolls, and vampires without apparently suffering serious injury was at a level far beyond normal wizards.
And he must also be very, very wealthy from the sales of all those expensive books. Five Galleons per copy, multiple bestselling titles, probably tens of thousands of copies sold... It was impressive.
In the secondhand shop, Morris also managed to find some treasures among the clutter and junk.
Including, much to Morris's delight, a dust-covered Sneakoscope that had been sitting forgotten on a bottom shelf behind a box of broken quills.
This particular device was a classic model, a type of Dark Magic detector that looked like a glass spinning top, about three inches tall, with runic markings etched into its surface. When not activated, it appeared to be nothing more than a pretty ornament.
If there were suspicious people nearby engaged in deception or ill intent, the Sneakoscope would light up with a bright warning glow and begin spinning rapidly on whatever surface it rested upon.
Morris had originally thought this would prove to be an extremely useful little gadget that could significantly help him when he ventured into Knockturn Alley's dangerous streets. It would function as an early warning system, helping him identify and avoid threats.
However, Morris's optimistic expectations didn't survive contact with reality.
After he stepped into Knockturn Alley the very first time carrying his newly acquired Sneakoscope, the device immediately began glowing with intensity and spinning frantically.
And it never stopped. Not once during his entire visit to the alley.
It kept glowing constantly, spinning constantly, providing absolutely no useful information at all because everyone in Knockturn Alley was apparently registered as suspicious and potentially dangerous.
The entire street was one continuous threat zone from the Sneakoscope's perspective.
A device that constantly warned about danger was equivalent to a device that never warned about danger at all.
Well... Morris thought with resignation as he examined the still-spinning, still-glowing device, that actually made perfect sense given the environment.
Knockturn Alley was basically a concentrated zone of people engaged in deception, harboring ill intent, or planning something questionable. The Sneakoscope was working exactly as designed, the problem was that the environment was too target-rich for the device to provide discrimination.
Thus, in the end, this Sneakoscope naturally became nothing more than an entertaining toy for his skeleton dog to play with.
On Christmas morning, Morris returned to the orphanage via the familiar if still unpleasant Knight Bus, clutching the handles of his seat grimly as the vehicle careened through London's streets with its usual recklessness.
He had arranged for Sparkles to transport all the various items he'd accumulated during his shopping trips in Diagon Alley, along with the skeleton dog, back to Hogwarts.
Morris had originally wanted to find time during his stay at the Leaky Cauldron to brew some potions. Unfortunately, the cauldron he was most comfortable using wasn't with him.
Therefore, he could only stay in his room reading books all day.
In the evening of Christmas Day, Harold arrived punctually at the orphanage to collect Morris, just as he'd promised weeks earlier. Morris enjoyed a sumptuous Christmas dinner.
Incidentally, Harold's household consisted of only two members—Harold himself and his daughter. According to him, thanks to Morris's arrival, their Christmas wasn't quite so lonely
Early the next morning, Morris returned once again to the Leaky Cauldron via the Knight Bus.
However, this time he didn't plan to continue staying in Diagon Alley for further shopping or exploration. Instead, he intended to visit other wizarding gathering places and settlements that he'd only read about but never personally experienced.
"The fireplace is over there against the wall, Mr. Black," Tom instructed, pointing with one finger toward the large stone fireplace in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron's main room.
"Don't panic when using Floo Powder for the first time—the sensation can be disorienting, but it's perfectly safe. Just take a small pinch, not too much. And remember to pronounce your destination clearly and correctly. Mumbling or mispronunciation can send you to the wrong place, and that's always awkward to sort out."
"I understand. Thank you for the guidance," Morris replied politely.
He accepted a small drawstring pouch from Tom's hands. The pouch contained silvery-gray powder that glittered faintly in the light.
The Floo Network was widely considered the most popular and practical form of magical travel among ordinary wizards and witches, it was far more commonly used than broomsticks, Apparition, or Portkeys.
It was convenient, relatively comfortable compared to alternatives, connected nearly every wizarding settlement and many private homes, and most importantly, was very inexpensive to use.
A single spoonful of Floo Powder enough for one trip to any connected fireplace in Britain cost merely two Sickles which was affordable even for wizards on tight budgets.
Morris walked to the corner fireplace. This would be his first time using the Floo Network, and despite Tom's reassurances, he'd heard stories about the experience being quite disorienting.
He carefully pinched a small amount of powder from the pouch between his thumb and forefinger.
Taking a breath, Morris stepped directly into the fireplace. He raised his hand with the powder and spoke clearly: "The Three Broomsticks!"
He pronounced each word distinctly, ensuring there could be no ambiguity, and scattered the silvery powder toward the ground around his feet.
Green flames roared up with a tremendous whooshing sound, instantly engulfing Morris completely in emerald fire. The ordinary orange flames of the fire vanished, replaced by this magical green fire that surrounded him on all sides.
Morris's vision flashed and blurred, everything becoming an indistinct tunnel of green light and shadow. This was followed immediately by a sensation of intense, disorienting dizziness as if he'd been stuffed into a rapidly spinning drum or barrel that was tumbling at high speed.
After several seconds of this nauseating spinning transit, Morris felt solid ground beneath his feet again with a thump.
The green flames deposited him abruptly but at least upright in a new fireplace, then vanished as quickly as they'd appeared.
"At least it's more comfortable than Apparition," Morris muttered to himself.
He steadied himself with one hand against the fireplace's stone edge, waiting for his vision to stop swimming and his stomach to settle back to its proper location.
Then he brushed the accumulated ash and soot from his robes and walked forward several steps on slightly unsteady legs, observing his new surroundings with interest.
Warm, bright light flooded the space from numerous enchanted lanterns and a large, crackling fireplace. The atmosphere was filled with the pleasant clamor of laughter and conversation, and the air was filled with the sweet, enticing aroma of mead, butterbeer, and what smelled like fresh-baked bread and roasting meat.
The Three Broomsticks pub was completely different from the dark, somewhat cramped and dingy Leaky Cauldron. This pub was bright, spacious, well-maintained, and filled with what appeared to be a cheerful crowd of wizards and witches enjoying drinks and company.
Just then, as Morris was taking in these details, green flames flared up again in the fireplace behind him with another loud whoosh.
Morris instinctively stepped aside quickly, moving out of the way, and watched as a witch stumbled rather ungracefully out of the fireplace's opening. She nearly collided directly with Morris in her unsteady exit.
The witch didn't pause to collect herself or fix her appearance. She walked directly toward the bar and called out in a somewhat hoarse voice:
"Rosmerta! One Butterbeer, please, and make it a strong one!"
"Coming right up, Babbling!" came the response from behind the bar.
The proprietress, Madam Rosmerta's voice was warm and cheerful.
Morris approached the bar as well, finding an open spot, and placed his own order.
"One Butterbeer, please," he said politely.
Madam Rosmerta was a woman in her thirties with a curvy figure, sparkling eyes, and a bright smile. She served him sliding a tall glass of golden-brown liquid across the bar surface.
The Butterbeer here looked far more enticing than the somewhat watered-down version served at the Leaky Cauldron. It was a richer color, emanated a more intense and pleasant aroma and was topped with a generous crown of thick foam.
Of course, it was also more expensive. But quality presumably justified the price difference.
Morris paid without complaint and took his drink, then turned to search for a seat in the crowded pub. The pub was quite busy despite it being a weekday morning, apparently business was always good at the Three Broomsticks.
The prime spots near the large fireplace were already occupied by groups of chatting witches and wizards. After few seconds of searching, Morris finally spotted a small table tucked in a corner by the wall.
At the table, two red-headed figures were huddled close together, clearly engaged in conversation about something.
Weren't these the Weasley twins?
What were they doing here in Hogsmeade? They should be at Hogwarts, the holiday break didn't include permission for students to visit the village.
Curious and somewhat amused, Morris approached their table and set his glass of Butterbeer down on the surface with a deliberate thunk to announce his presence.
"This seat is taken, sorry, find another—" One of the redheads probably Fred looked up automatically to deliver the dismissal, then his eyes widened with shock and his mouth dropped open comically.
"Hey, it's you, Morris!" he practically yelped.
"It's me," Morris confirmed with a smile.
He squeezed into the bench seating to sit beside them without waiting for invitation.
"Fred, George," Morris said conversationally, settling in and taking a sip of his excellent Butterbeer.
"Aren't you two supposed to be at Hogwarts right now?"
"Shh—keep your voice down!" Fred hissed urgently, raising one finger to his lips.
He nervously glanced around the pub, checking to see if anyone nearby had overheard Morris or was paying attention to their table. Satisfied that the other customers were absorbed in their own conversations and drinks, he leaned in closer and said in a low voice,
"We snuck out through a secret passage from the castle."
Morris raised an eyebrow at this.
Of course these twins could never stay quietly put in one place.
"We just couldn't resist," George added with a grin, his eyes were sparkling with mischief.
"Fred said it was too boring just sitting around the castle during the holidays with nothing to do and hardly anyone around. So, we decided to come out for a look around Hogsmeade. We're planning to visit Zonko's Joke Shop later. Want to come with us?"
"Sure, I'd be happy to join you," Morris replied readily.
Though he didn't know exactly what Zonko's Joke Shop was, since the twins had invited him and seemed enthusiastic about it, he might as well take a look.
"Excellent! You won't regret it," Fred said with an enthusiastic smile. "Oh, by the way," he added, changing subjects, "did you receive our Christmas present? We bought it at Zonko's."
"Of course I received it," Morris nodded.
The Weasley twins had sent him a box of candy called "Hiccup Sweets" that made the consumer hiccup continuously and uncontrollably for a short period of time.
He quite liked them because the candy itself was very sweet.
Fred suddenly remembered something and pulled a small glass vial from his robe pocket.
"We received the eye drops you sent us too," Fred said. "Very interesting stuff—we've both tried them, and the effect is quite impressive. Have you ever considered selling this as an actual product?"
"A product?" Morris asked doubtfully. "Would anyone actually buy something like this? It seems very niche."
In his view, those eye drops were merely a toy. The function of making eyes glow in the dark was quite useless for any serious purpose.
"Possibly, possibly," George said thoughtfully, stroking his chin with the air of a shrewd merchant. "If the price point is low enough and the marketing is right... people buy all kinds of useless things if they're fun or novel. How about one Sickle per vial?"
Morris did some quick mental calculations, running through the ingredient costs and preparation time involved.
"Forget it," he said, shaking his head decisively. "One Sickle wouldn't even cover my material costs, let alone compensate for the time investment in brewing. Let me figure out how to reduce the production cost first, then we can discuss commercial possibilities."
"That's a shame," Fred said.
Afterward, Morris followed the enthusiastic twins around Hogsmeade village for a grand tour of its various attractions and stores.
As dusk began to approach and the winter sky started darkening to deep purple and orange, the twins reluctantly decided they needed to return to Hogwarts through their secret passage before their absence was discovered and they landed in serious trouble.
After the twins left, Morris turned and made his way back through Hogsmeade's now-darkening streets toward the Three Broomsticks.
He intended to ask Madam Rosmerta whether lodging might be available for the night. However, when he entered the main hall, he immediately spotted several Hogwarts professors.