The Peeves Kidnapping Incident

Hogwarts under the dark night was filled with a mysterious aura. Unknown secrets seemed to be rewards for the brave, waiting to be discovered.

Horatio walked through the empty corridor, a cat in his left hand and an owl in his right. If this were a horror movie, a few ghosts would surely appear to give him a scare.

He then thought that Hogwarts was already home to ghosts, and for the current Horatio, ghosts were perfect consumables. The soul energy, so dense it was almost tangible, made him drool. If he wasn't afraid of the old man causing trouble, he would have definitely captured a few to work in his alchemy workshop.

Just as Horatio was pondering why dark wizards didn't choose ghosts as sacrifices, with a poof, a small goblin suddenly appeared. It had a pair of evil black eyes and a large mouth, floating cross-legged in mid-air.

"Another little wizard out after curfew! I'm going to tell Filch," Peeves shouted at Horatio.

Horatio's eyes lit up. He took something from the cloth bag at his waist, a favorite of a certain Nicodemus, and offered it to Peeves. "Lord Peeves, please don't tell Filch. I'm willing to trade for this."

"Isn't it just a whip? What's so special about it?"

"It's different. This whip is made from willow branches, soaked in locust sap for forty-nine days. In the distant East, people call it the Ghost-striking Whip." After saying this, Horatio raised the whip in his hand and fiercely lashed out at Peeves.

Peeves wailed in pain. Just as he was about to flee, a rope shot out from Horatio's cloth bag, binding Peeves tightly and gagging him.

"Cotton machine... no, Peeves, are you still going to tell Filch?" Horatio whipped with a steady rhythm.

For some reason, Peeves couldn't use any of his abilities, and his mouth was gagged. He could only frantically shake his head on the ground, a tear of regret flashing in his eye.

"Hehehe, too late." Horatio grinned as if he had just devoured several Hall of Souls elders. He took out the bottle he usually used to collect souls from his cloth bag and stuffed Peeves inside.

Horatio had originally planned to go to the Forbidden Forest to find some materials and souls, but this unexpected surprise had disrupted his plans.

He thought for a moment and remembered that Hogwarts had a place called the Room of Requirement, but he couldn't recall exactly where it was or how to enter. He had only seen the movie a long time ago, and he had forgotten the specific details.

[On the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle, opposite the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy being beaten by a troll. The host needs to concentrate on their specific need and pass by the corresponding wall three times.] The system, which had been feigning death for a long time, responded.

"Reliable old friend," Horatio silently gave the system a thumbs-up.

Arriving on the eighth floor of Hogwarts, Horatio thought, I need a torture chamber, while pacing back and forth in front of the wall opposite the tapestry.

Room of Requirement: What kind of little wizard is always thinking about torture chambers?

Finally, after Horatio had walked around three times, the Room of Requirement appeared.

Horatio entered the Room of Requirement and looked at the dazzling array of torture props inside. He took out the bottle containing Peeves.

"Let us begin this delightful torment," Horatio grinned like a demon. Coupled with the black cat in his arms and the owl on his shoulder, Peeves in the bottle felt a chill run down his spine.

"Horatio, where were you last night? Don't tell me you were out after curfew?"

In the Great Hall, Hermione looked at Horatio beside her, who had dark circles under his eyes and was nodding off like a pecking chicken.

"Nothing much, just that the hundred-pull gacha that comes with logging into Hogwarts for the first time let me draw to my heart's content," Horatio replied weakly.

"???"

"I'm warning you, if you break school rules and our House gets points deducted because of it, I won't let you off!" Hermione threatened, raising her little pink fist.

"Got it. By the way, what class do we have?"

Hermione rubbed her forehead, speechless. "Didn't you check the schedule? Our first class is History of Magic."

In the classroom, Professor Binns droned on from the podium in his monotonous and boring voice.

Hermione watched Horatio beside her, slumped on the desk and snoring, drool all over the table. She wanted to punch him to wake him up, but looking around, she dismissed the thought.

Ron had his eyes closed and was nodding off continuously. Harry was the same, even their movements were synchronized. They were truly a perfect match. Neville stared blankly at the professor, mumbling "aba aba" sounds.

Hermione shook her head and continued taking notes.

After the light and enjoyable History of Magic class, Horatio prepared to head to the Great Hall for some "Stargazy Pie." A Slytherin girl found him and wanted to talk to him privately.

Horatio told Hermione to go eat first and then followed the girl to a deserted corner.

"Alright, what do you want? Don't delay my meal if it's nothing important," Horatio asked, yawning.

The girl bowed to Horatio and said, "Hello, my name is Daphne Greengrass. I come from the Greengrass Family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Seeing Horatio's disdainful expression, Daphne quickly added, "I was very interested in what you said at the start of term. My family has instilled in me the idea of blood purity since I was young, but my sister believes that whether someone is pure-blood or not doesn't define them, so I'm conflicted. I want to hear your opinion."

Horatio looked into Daphne's eyes and asked, "Are those of you with pure-blood beliefs led by Malfoy?"

"Yes, everyone centers around Malfoy."

"Then guess how likely I am to win a duel against Malfoy?"

Daphne was silent for a moment and did not answer.

Horatio held up his hand and made a nine gesture. "One in nine. In one minute, Malfoy dies nine times."

Looking at Horatio's half-smiling expression, Daphne couldn't help but shiver.

Horatio continued, "In my opinion, the pure-blood doctrine is just a method to consolidate one's power and status. Promoting the pure-blood theory can gain some power for the family, making Muggle-borns and half-bloods inherently inferior.

You should know who the Dark Lord is, who, relying on the pure-blood theory, massacred Muggle-born wizards.

What if, in the future, a powerful Muggle-born wizard emerges and, based on the principle of opposing pure-blood supremacy, slaughters pure-blood wizards? What would you do then?"

Daphne's legs went weak, and she almost fell.

"Ultimately, this world is still about strength. Pure-bloods have family heritage, which does give them an advantage over non-pure-blood wizards, but this doesn't mean pure-blood wizards will always be far ahead. If you continue to be arrogant, clinging to your family's glory, one day a non-pure-blood wizard will rise, and your arrogance will become the fuse that leads to the downfall of your pure-blood families." Horatio finished speaking and turned to leave.

"Oh, right. I'm indifferent to the pure-blood doctrine now, but I'll warn you not to be too flashy in front of me. I have a little notebook where I keep records. Who knows, maybe one day I'll pay a visit to your pure-blood family's manor. What happens then won't be something you'd want to see," Horatio turned back and said to Daphne with a sinister smile.

Daphne finally couldn't hold on and slumped onto the corridor steps.