Chapter 20: For Professor Morris

"Professor, you’ve returned."

A young wizard in the crowd spoke first, his voice low and trembling with excitement. He gripped his hat so tightly that it seemed as if he feared he might commit some indecorous act were his hands not occupied.

Beside him, another young wizard added softly, "Professor, we thought... we thought... we thought you would never come back."

Indeed, in Azkaban, men are not defined by the length of their sentences or their social standing. There are only two types of people there: those who have gone mad, and those who are on the verge of it. Under the dim, flickering lights, the expressions on the wizards' faces varied, yet every one of them was etched with a profound sense of concern and anxiety.

Morris raised his head, his gaze sweeping over each of their faces. "I am fine, everyone. You need not worry."

"But... that is Azkaban, Professor!" a wizard in the front row burst out, his voice shaking as if a long-suppressed emotion had finally erupted. "It is filled with nothing but criminals and dark wizards. And the Dementors... how could they possibly have allowed you to be 'fine'?!"

For a moment, the atmosphere in the pub grew even more stifling.

Morris looked at him, a faint, subtle smile touching his lips. "Listen to me. I am alive, standing here speaking to you. Isn't that the best proof?"

"But they had no right to imprison you!" another voice rang out, laced with indignation. "Those fools! They didn't even have evidence. They sent you to that place based solely on baseless accusations!"

Morris raised a hand, signaling for silence. "Anger solves nothing. What matters is that I am out now."

"You have all done well. This past year, I have heard of your persistence, and I know that you never abandoned hope."

"Remember, however, that the hope of the wizarding world should not be pinned on any single individual, but on the actions and perseverance of every one of us."

"The past year has certainly not been easy, but I hope it has taught you one thing: conviction is more powerful than any magic."

"As long as we do not abandon our beliefs, nothing can truly break us."

His words seemed to soothe the atmosphere in the room. Finally, the wizard who had stood at the front—the same one who had led the effort to "escort" Rita out of the pub earlier—spoke up. "Professor, during this time... we may not be able to give everything for you as we once did."

The words fell like a stone into a still lake. Everyone bowed their heads, their faces clouded with unease.

Morris felt no surprise at this. In fact, he had already prepared himself—prepared to fight alone and start from scratch.

"This past year, every one of us has been targeted by the Ministry of Magic," the wizard said, taking a deep breath and looking up, his voice heavy with helplessness. "Our actions, our words, even our families—everything has been under varying degrees of surveillance. They have applied pressure in every way they can: stripping us of our positions, restricting our rights, summoning us for questioning at any time."

"Yes," another young wizard added, "Professor, it isn't that we are afraid of these things. We are truly afraid that our actions will drag you down, expose your plans, and cause you unnecessary trouble."

"Exactly!" another chimed in, speaking with fervor. "We are already on the Ministry's watch list. They are watching us closely; the slightest disturbance and we are dragged in for interrogation. If we continue to assist you as we once did, it will only expose your plans more quickly."

"Professor..." the older wizard’s voice returned. He looked up at Morris, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. "Please understand—at least for now, we cannot do anything for you publicly. It is not because we are unwilling, but because... we do not want to hinder you."

"But Professor," a young wizard in the back row added, unable to hide his reluctance, "if you need us—even if there is the slightest possibility—we will still stand up! Even at the risk of being targeted by the Ministry, we will support you!"

Morris scanned them once more, lingering on each face for several seconds. Their expressions were marked by profound guilt and unease, but more than that, by an indescribable helplessness.

"I understand," Morris said, nodding gently. "Your concerns are valid. I know you are all doing your best to protect what you can."

"Professor..." A young wizard’s eyes reddened, and he started to speak, but stopped himself.

"It is alright. I understand your difficulties," Morris said, his voice exceptionally gentle. "Please remember, I have never needed you to do anything for me. I need you to live well—that is the only prerequisite for our conviction to be passed on."

"I know the pressure you are under better than anyone else."

"But you must believe that this endurance today is not cowardice; it is a higher form of wisdom."

"Change in the wizarding world does not come from momentary confrontation, but from long-term persistence."

His words were like a sedative to the crowd, and they nodded in turn.

"Thank you, Professor," the wizard from the front row said finally, his tone one of heartfelt reverence. "It is truly wonderful to have you back."

Morris nodded slightly, a faint smile on his face. "Yes," he said softly, "I have returned."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the boisterous crowd in the pub, and then, in a voice so low only he could hear, he added:

"I have returned... to take revenge."

The wizards in the pub began to talk animatedly again. Some raised their glasses, others laughed in low tones, and some jumped to their feet, hoisting their drinks high and shouting at the top of their lungs: "To Professor Morris!"

"To Professor Morris!" more joined in, and the atmosphere in the pub surged, cheers echoing one after another.