Hogwarts beneath the night sky was steeped in mystery. Countless unknown secrets seemed like rewards for the brave, waiting to be uncovered.
Horatio walked through the deserted corridors with a cat in his left hand and an owl perched on his right. If this were a horror movie, a few ghosts would have shown up to give him a heart-pounding memory.
Then he remembered that this was Hogwarts, where ghosts already existed. To the current Horatio, ghosts were perfect consumable materials. The dense, almost tangible soul energy made his mouth water. If he weren't worried about Old Deng coming after him, he would have caught a few and put them to work in his alchemy workshop.
Just as Horatio was wondering why Dark Wizards did not use ghosts as sacrificial offerings, there was a pop, and a little goblin-like figure suddenly appeared. He had a pair of wicked black eyes, a huge mouth, and floated cross-legged in midair.
"Another little wizard is out wandering at night! I'm going to tell Filch!" Peeves shouted at Horatio.
Horatio's eyes lit up. He took out a Black man's favorite from the cloth pouch at his waist and offered it to Peeves. "Lord Peeves, please don't tell Filch. I'm willing to trade this for your silence."
"Isn't it just a whip? What's so special about it?"
"It's different. This whip was braided from willow branches, then soaked in locust tree juice for seven times seven days. In the distant East, people call it a Ghost-striking Whip." With that, Horatio raised the whip and lashed it viciously at Peeves.
Peeves howled in pain and was just about to flee when a rope shot out of Horatio's pouch, binding Peeves tightly and stuffing his mouth shut in the process.
"Cotton picker... no, Peeves, are you still going to tell Filch?" Horatio whipped him with a steady rhythm.
For some reason, Peeves could not use any of his abilities. With his mouth blocked as well, he could only shake his head frantically on the ground, a tear of regret sliding from the corner of his eye.
"Hehehe, too late." Horatio grinned like he had devoured several elders from the Soul Hall. He took out a bottle he usually used to collect souls and stuffed Peeves inside.
Horatio had originally planned to visit the Forbidden Forest to see if he could get some materials and souls, but this unexpected windfall disrupted his plans.
After thinking for a moment, he remembered that Hogwarts seemed to have a place called the Room of Requirement. But he could not recall exactly where it was or how to enter it. He had only watched the movies, and that had been a long time ago. He had forgotten all the details.
[On the Seventh Floor of Hogwarts Castle, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls. The host must focus on a specific need and pass the corresponding wall three times.]
The system, which had been playing dead for a long time, finally responded.
Reliable buddy. Horatio silently gave his system buddy a thumbs-up.
When he arrived on the Seventh Floor of Hogwarts, Horatio paced back and forth before the wall opposite the tapestry while thinking, I need an interrogation room.
Room of Requirement: What kind of little wizard thought about interrogation rooms every day?
At last, after Horatio had completed three laps, the Room of Requirement appeared.
Horatio entered the Room of Requirement, looked at the dazzling array of interrogation tools inside, and took out the bottle containing Peeves.
"Let's begin this delightful torture." Horatio smiled like a demon. Together with the black cat in his arms and the owl on his shoulder, he made Peeves in the bottle feel a chill run down his back.
"Horatio, what did you do last night? Don't tell me you went wandering around at night?"
In the Great Hall, Hermione looked at Horatio beside her. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his head kept bobbing like a pecking chick.
"Nothing. I just had a blast with the hundred pulls new players get for logging into Hogwarts," Horatio replied weakly.
"???"
"I'm warning you—if you break school rules and get our house points deducted because of it, I won't let you off." Hermione raised her little pink fist in threat.
"Got it. By the way, what class do we have?"
Hermione rubbed her forehead and said speechlessly, "Didn't you look at the timetable? Our first class is History of Magic class."
In the classroom, Professor Binns continued droning on from the podium in his monotonous, tedious voice.
Hermione looked at Horatio sleeping soundly on the desk beside her, drool already pooling across the tabletop. She wanted to punch him awake, but after glancing around the room, she could not help abandoning the idea.
Ron had his eyes closed and kept nodding off. Harry was the same, even moving in perfect sync with him. The two of them really were a good match. Neville stared at the professor with lifeless eyes, while "ah-ba, ah-ba" sounds kept coming from his mouth.
Hermione shook her head and continued taking notes.
After the relaxing and pleasant History of Magic class ended, Horatio was preparing to head to the Great Hall for some Stargazy Pie when a Slytherin girl came to find him and asked to speak with him alone.
Horatio told Hermione to go eat first, then followed the girl to an empty corner.
"Go on, what did you want? Don't hold up my lunch if it's nothing." Horatio asked with a yawn.
After giving Horatio a salute, the girl said, "Hello, my name is Daphne Greengrass. I was born into the Greengrass Family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Seeing Horatio's disdainful expression, Daphne hurriedly said, "I'm very interested in what you said at the opening feast. My family has instilled the idea of pure-blood supremacy in me since I was young, but my younger sister believes that being pure-blooded does not determine a person's worth. I'm conflicted, and I want to hear your opinion."
Horatio looked into Daphne's eyes and asked, "Do you people with pure-blood beliefs all follow Malfoy?"
"Yes. Everyone centers around Malfoy."
"Then take a guess. What are Malfoy's odds of winning against me in a duel?"
Daphne fell silent for a moment without answering.
Horatio raised a hand and made a nine with his fingers. "Ninety-one odds. In one minute, Malfoy dies nine times."
Daphne could not help shivering as she looked at Horatio's half-smiling expression.
Horatio continued, "In my view, pure-blood ideology is merely a way to consolidate your own power and status. Promoting it can secure some power for a family, making Muggle-born and half-blood wizards naturally inferior.
The Dark Lord used pure-blood theory as an excuse to slaughter Muggle-born wizards on a massive scale. You should know who he was.
Then have you ever considered that if a powerful Muggle-born wizard appeared in the future and slaughtered pure-blood wizards based on arguments against pure-blood ideology, what would you do?"
Daphne's legs went weak, and she nearly lost her balance.
"At the end of the day, this world respects strength above all else. Pure-bloods do have family inheritances, so they might be a little ahead of non-pure-blood wizards. But that does not mean pure-blood wizards will always remain far ahead. If you keep clinging arrogantly to your family's glory, then one day a non-pure-blood wizard will rise. When that happens, your arrogance will become the fuse that destroys your Pure-blood families." With that, Horatio turned and left.
"Oh, and right now, I don't particularly care about pure-blood ideology. But let me remind you not to get too cocky in front of me. I have a little notebook where I keep records. Maybe someday I'll pay a visit to your Pure-blood families' manors. When that happens, what occurs might not be something you want to see." Horatio turned back and said to Daphne with a kindly smile.
Daphne finally could not hold herself up any longer and collapsed onto the corridor steps.
Before you continue