Shadow Manipulation.
Morris tentatively designated this as Sparkles's new ability after observing the demonstration with the dangling, protesting Tin-Tin.
The name seemed appropriate and descriptive enough, accurately capturing the essence of what the power actually did.
After conducting several minutes of brief testing and careful observation, Morris had already gained a preliminary understanding of the ability's general capabilities.
Without requiring any spoken incantations, Sparkles could interfere with and actively manipulate all shadows within roughly a ten-meter radius, transforming those intangible patches of darkness into semi-physical entities and shaping them into vastly different forms as needed.
The shadows became extensions of Sparkles's will, responding instantly to its intentions.
This ability could not only be used defensively or for utility purposes like binding and restraining enemies, holding objects, creating barriers of living darkness but could also be weaponized when necessary, condensing the shadows into sharp spikes or piercing tendrils for surprise attacks.
What was even more remarkable and valuable was that these shadow spikes or vine-like attachments could emerge directly from any existing shadow in the affected area silently and without any warning.
They simply appeared instantaneously from darkness that had been harmless a moment before, making them nearly impossible to guard against or predict.
The only somewhat disappointing limitation that Morris discovered through testing was that the manifested shadows, while versatile and useful, weren't particularly strong or durable in terms of raw physical power.
With Sparkles's current capabilities, the condensed shadow spikes could barely penetrate even wooden blocks when Morris had her test them against various materials.
The formed shadow tendrils could at most restrain an average adult wizard of modest physical strength. A strong person could break free with effort, and any wizard competent enough to cast a basic cutting charm or dispelling spell could free themselves fairly easily.
However, the shadows were certainly strong enough for dealing with undead cats and similar-sized creatures, as had been thoroughly demonstrated.
After finishing all his tests, Morris began the process of setting up a new advancement ritual magic circle on the floor once again.
This time for Tin-Tin.
Meanwhile, Sparkles had already retreated to rest against the stone wall, perching on the wooden stand Morris had conjured earlier. The owl occasionally and somewhat smugly manipulated its own shadow beneath, using the dark tendrils to carefully preen its black feathers.
Watching this self-satisfied scene from across the room, Tin-Tin's glowing blue eyes revealed a look of disdain and annoyance.
That show-off, the cat thought with irritation. So, what if it could manipulate shadows a little bit? It wasn't that impressive. Just darkness moving around.
Flashy nonsense with minimal practical application, really.
Tin-Tin raised its head proudly in defiant superiority.
It firmly believed that once it underwent its own advancement ritual in just a few minutes, it would surely possess even more substantial, impressive, and genuinely powerful abilities than mere shadow manipulation.
When that glorious moment arrived, Tin-Tin would definitively reclaim its rightful position at the top of the undead hierarchy.
After all, as their master's very first undead creature, the original one, the eldest, how could it possibly tolerate remaining subordinate to a mere little owl?
"Tin-Tin, come here," Morris called out, interrupting the cat's grandiose internal fantasies. "The ritual circle is complete and ready. Your turn."
"Meow~" Tin-Tin responded, the sound barely containing its excitement and anticipation.
The cat practically pranced over to the center of the freshly drawn magic circle, its bone tail was held high with confidence and eager anticipation.
Just like Sparkles before it, Tin-Tin's advancement ritual proceeded very smoothly and without any complications. The process unfolded exactly as it should according to Morris's preparations.
After Tin-Tin finished absorbing all the supernatural mist without leaving even a wisp behind and the violent magical winds died down to stillness, Morris quickly stepped forward with eager curiosity to observe the results.
He carefully examined from multiple angles, looking for any visible changes.
The cat's appearance remained completely unchanged from before, as always.
Morris wondered with anticipation what kind of ability Tin-Tin might have gained. Would it be something complementary to Sparkles's shadow manipulation?
"All right, show me your new ability," Morris said directly.
Tin-Tin tilted its head to one side, blue flame eyes were flickering with what appeared to be confusion. "Meow?"
"What do you mean you didn't gain any new abilities?" Morris was stunned. And asked with doubt.
Tin-Tin obediently closed its eyes and turned its focus inside its body, carefully sensing and examining all the changes within itself, searching for anything new or different about its existence.
However, after several moments of concentrated internal examination...
The cat opened its eyes again.
It... really didn't seem to feel anything particularly special or notably different from before.
True, its body did feel lighter and more agile than before the ritual. And its various senses were all somewhat sharper than they'd been.
But aside from these general improvements... was that genuinely all?
No cool ability to manipulate shadows like Sparkles had gained. No conjuring fireballs or calling down lightning from thin air. No teleportation or invisibility or anything remotely impressive.
Just... slightly better physical stats.
What was going on!? This wasn't how it was supposed to work!
Tin-Tin began to panic internally, its calm facade was cracking.
Watching the undead cat start to frantically pace in agitated circles around the ritual chamber, Morris stroked his chin thoughtfully, feeling genuinely puzzled.
This result didn't make sense at all.
The advancement ritual had clearly gone very smoothly with no errors or complications during execution. The process had been textbook perfect, absolutely no different from the previous successful rituals with Sparkles and the Skeleton Dog.
Could he have made some subtle error in some critical step that he hadn't noticed? Some tiny deviation that produced these unexpected results?
Morris quickly reviewed the entire ritual process in his mind, running through every action and word like rewinding and examining a recording, but he couldn't identify any problems or deviations at all.
Everything had been executed perfectly according to the Mage's Book's instructions.
Therefore, by process of elimination, the issue must lie with Tin-Tin itself rather than with the ritual process.
Suddenly, Morris recalled a very minor detail, something so small he'd barely considered it significant before now, but which suddenly seemed potentially relevant.
When he had originally transformed and created both Sparkles and the Skeleton Dog, he had added his own blood to their respective magic circles as part of the creation process.
Whereas Tin-Tin, as his very first undead creature created when he was still inexperienced and learning the basics, had been brought into existence without any additional materials or components. Just the bare minimum ritual structure and his own magical power.
Could that difference in their creation be the reason for this disparity in advancement results?
The more Morris thought about this possibility, the more plausible and likely it seemed.
The inclusion of his blood might have fundamentally altered the undead creatures' capacity for growth and development, creating a foundation that allowed them to manifest special abilities upon advancement. Without that foundation, advancement merely enhanced baseline capabilities without granting unique powers.
It was a reasonable hypothesis, at least.
So, having reached this tentative conclusion, Morris walked over to where Tin-Tin had finally stopped its frantic pacing and crouched down to be at eye level with the distressed cat.
He slowly and carefully began to speak, trying to find tactful words.
"Good cat," Morris said gently, reaching out to pat Tin-Tin's skull in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I think I might know the reason for this unexpected result. You see, the issue is that you might just be a bit... how should I put this... uh... magically developmentally challenged?"
He said the last words very quickly, wincing slightly at how harsh they sounded even with the attempted softening.
'Developmentally challenged!'
The words hit Tin-Tin like a physical blow.
The cat suddenly jerked its head up, eye flames were flaring brightly with shock and horror.
Its fragile feline heart—metaphorical though it might be, given the lack of actual organs was suffering a truly devastating critical hit.
This couldn't be true. It couldn't accept this assessment. Refused to accept it!
Developmentally challenged!? The cat!? The original undead creature!? The eldest!?
It was unthinkable.
Of course, Morris had to acknowledge internally, "developmentally challenged" was merely his current working speculation based on limited evidence. He didn't actually know for certain what the underlying cause was.
The specifics would definitely require further research, and experimentation.
However, regardless of the ultimate explanation, it remained an established and undeniable fact that Tin-Tin had gained no special abilities at all from its advancement ritual.
Thus, over the following days, Morris continuously studied Tin-Tin's post-advancement changes, conducting various tests and examinations, measuring capabilities, trying to identify any latent powers that might simply be dormant or unrecognized.
Unfortunately, despite his dedicated efforts, there was no real progress or breakthrough in understanding.
All the evidence confirmed the same conclusion: Tin-Tin had simply become a slightly better version of its previous self, without manifesting anything that could be called a "special ability."
Morris eventually decided on a long-term solution. He planned to continue accumulating sufficient Gate Energy Crystals over the coming weeks and months, and then conduct another advancement ritual for Tin-Tin.
Perhaps a second advancement would trigger the development of special abilities that the first had failed to produce. Or perhaps the cumulative effects would eventually manifest something unique.
It was worth attempting, at least.
According to conventional magical logic and the brief notes in the Mage's Book about progressive development, an undead creature that had already undergone one advancement ritual would naturally consume considerably more energy for subsequent advancements.
Each tier required exponentially more power than the last.
In other words, Morris would need to prepare significantly more Gate Energy Crystals for Tin-Tin's next attempt.
Such a massive undertaking could only be tackled gradually, over time, through patient accumulation of resources.
Hogwarts in mid-February remained persistently cold and unwelcoming with frequent rain that turned the grounds into muddy swamps.
The temperature seemed determined to stay just above freezing—cold enough to be miserable, but not quite cold enough for the rain to turn to snow, which would at least have been prettier.
"Here is your cake, Mr. Black," the house-elf Bobo said cheerfully, presenting a generous slice of chocolate cake on a clean plate with obvious pride.
"Thank you very much, Bobo," Morris replied warmly, accepting the dessert with appreciation. "You always know exactly what I want."
"Oh! It is Bobo's greatest honor to serve such a kind young master!" the elf responded, his enormous eyes were actually welling with tears of joy at the simple thanks. "Bobo lives to serve! Would you like anything else? More cake? Different cake? Tea? Juice? Bobo can get anything!"
"This is perfect, thank you."
After receiving his favorite chocolate cake from the enthusiastic house-elf, Morris exited the Hogwarts kitchens.
Although eating rich chocolate cake first thing in the morning was somewhat unhealthy by nutritional standard, Morris reasoned that he was still a growing child and didn't need to worry excessively about sugar intake or balanced breakfast food groups just yet.
Besides, the house-elves' chocolate cake was simply too delicious to refuse.
Ever since discovering the location of the Hogwarts kitchens, Morris had been frequenting the place regularly.
It had to be said that Hufflepuff students must lead very comfortable and well-fed lives, because the Hogwarts kitchen was located conveniently near the Hufflepuff common room entrance, just a short walk down a corridor.
They probably visited constantly for late-night snacks.
The house-elves also very rarely refused students' reasonable requests most of the time, seeming genuinely delighted to have people to serve and feed.
Consequently, over the past weeks, Morris had tasted many wonderful desserts and specialty dishes that weren't typically available at the regular dining hall tables.
And they were completely free, offered with such enthusiasm that refusing would have been almost insulting to house-elves.
After his unconventional but delicious breakfast, Morris like many other students throughout the castle gathered his textbooks, parchment, quills, and other supplies, and carried everything to his morning class.
Tuesday morning's first period was History of Magic, which had somehow become one of Morris's favorite scheduled class times.
Of course, he didn't actually enjoy History of Magic itself as a subject—the content was dry, the presentation was monumentally boring, and Professor Binns's monotone ghostly voice could put a caffeinated insomniac into a deep coma within minutes.
But what Morris did genuinely appreciate was that during this particular class, Professor Binns paid absolutely no attention to what students did below him while he droned on.
This meant that Morris could freely do whatever he wanted during the class period.
"Morris, what exactly are you doing?" Hermione's voice suddenly whispered from beside him about halfway through the class period. "Why do you keep staring at and holding that compass? You've been focused on it since we sat down."
She finally couldn't resist asking, her curiosity and slight annoyance at being ignored was overcoming her usual dedication to actually paying attention in class.
Ever since sitting down at the beginning of the period, Morris had been staring intently with absolute concentration at the compass held in his hand, occasionally making tiny gestures with his fingers, completely absorbed in whatever he was doing.
Morris didn't look up from his focused work.
"I'm attempting to enchant this compass with magical effects," he explained softly.
Hermione frowned with confusion and a touch of skepticism. "Have we learned that in any of our classes? I don't remember that being covered in Charms or Transfiguration."
"No," Morris replied softly, still not looking away from the compass. "We haven't been taught this at all. So, naturally, I'm researching and teaching it to myself through independent study and experimentation."
In fact, what Morris was trying was inscribing runes from the Mage's Book onto the compass's metal surface.
Morris continued in that same tone, "Please don't disturb me right now, Hermione. I'm at a critical juncture and thinking very carefully."
Upon hearing this, Hermione somewhat huffily redirected her attention back to Professor Binns's ongoing lecture.
Though, despite her best efforts to focus on the lesson, her gaze couldn't help but dart sideways toward Morris and the mysterious compass in his hand.
After a while, Hermione definitely saw an almost faint gleam of golden light flash briefly across the compass.
Hermione was certain she hadn't seen incorrectly.
Just then, the bell rang loudly and Professor Binns announced the end of class at precisely the same moment.
Students immediately began gathering their belongings and flooding toward the door.
Hermione turned to question Morris about the compass but he vanished in a flash of rapid movement, already halfway to the door before she could even open her mouth.
She was left with no choice but to let it go for now and simply wonder.
Morris moved through the corridors, practically speed-walking, and quickly returned to his Ravenclaw dormitory in the tower.
Sitting in his comfortable chair by the window, Morris looked down at the compass held carefully in both hands, completely unable to contain his excitement and satisfaction.
He had finally succeeded!
This was the first time he had successfully inscribed so many different runes onto the same single object!