Before Morris could react, the House-elf Bobo began to sob and plead, "Sir, please, don't tell anyone that Bobo is being lazy. I'll do anything Bobo ask."
His strength was astonishing; Morris felt as if his legs were being clamped.
"Let me go, Bobo," Morris said helplessly, "I won't tell anyone."
"Really?" Bobo cautiously raised his head.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Morris quickly freed his leg and took a step back.
Unfortunately, we were a step too late.
His trouser legs were still stained with a mixture of tears and snot.
After casting several Scourgify on himself, Morris finally spoke to Bobo, who stood motionless to the side, and said, "Alright, that's the end of it. I keep my word and won't tell anyone."
Bobo nodded vigorously. "Sir, you're so kind."
Morris, not wanting to listen to its rambling any longer, turned to leave, but suddenly remembered his true purpose for coming here.
"Wait, Bobo."
The House-elf jolted, its eyes filled with terror. "Is there anything else you need, sir?"
"Don't be nervous," Morris waved his hand, "I just want to ask a question."
"You're very familiar with this castle, aren't you? I need to find a place. A very secluded, spacious, and quiet place, preferably one that even your House-elf rarely go to or can't disturb."
He felt that the House-elf had worked here for hundreds of years must be among the beings most familiar with the castle.
Asking won't waste too much time.
Bobo blinked and murmured, "Without being disturbed..."
"Oh, Bobo, I see!" His eyes suddenly lit up. "That room might meet your requirements, sir."
Morris immediately became interested. "Where?"
"It's on the Seventh Floor, opposite a tapestry," Bobo said. "We House-elf; we call him to the Come and Go Room,' or the Room of Requirement '..."
About ten minutes later, Morris arrived at the Seventh Floor the main castle, in the corridor that Bobo had mentioned.
Sure enough, on the wall to the left, he found a huge tapestry.
The tapestry depicts a very abstract scene: six Troll dressed in ballet tutus surround a well-dressed wizard who is waving his wand in terror, trying to fend off the clubs the Troll are wielding.
Morris could almost smell the Troll scent emanating from the tapestry.
He shifted his gaze from the perplexing image to the wall opposite.
The walls were bare, very clean, and looked utterly ordinary.
According to the House-elf, Morris stood in front of the wall and began pacing back and forth, silently chanting, "A spacious room, a wide, spacious room, a wide, spacious room..."
After walking back and forth three times, something amazing happened.
A smooth door with a brass handle silently appeared on the otherwise ordinary wall.
Morris immediately grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open to enter.
suddenly see the light.
This is an extremely spacious underground space with towering ceilings and walls made of rough stone, and compacted earth underfoot, giving it the feel of an ancient cellar.
Morris roughly estimated that there was more than enough room to fit an Undead Creature Advancement Ritual magic circle.
Furthermore, according to the House-elf, only one person is allowed to enter this room at a time.
Perfect!
Absolutely perfect!
Morris nodded in satisfaction.
This is practically the perfect place to experiment with Dark Magic!
Oh, no, his Undead Creature Advancement Ritual wasn't Dark Magic.
In short, Morris chose this place as the preferred venue for the ceremony.
He couldn't wait!
Unfortunately, I have to rush to class right now.
Morris took out the pocket watch he had bought from Diagon Alley from his pocket and glanced at it.
Okay, no rush, I'm already late anyway, I'll just stroll over slowly.
This is Snape's Potions Class. He shouldn't be too difficult. He can just say he was so engrossed in brewing Potions that he didn't notice the time.
He believed his dear professor would understand him!
So by evening, Ravenclaw's score hourglass had shrunk a little.
The next day was a day off. Early in the morning, Morris shouldered his backpack, took Guantou, and let the Yanhua hide in his shadow as he strode up to the Seventh Floor of the castle.
He had been looking forward to this advancement ceremony for a long time; even seeing two students fighting while passing by the library couldn't stop him...
Uh, we still need to stop here.
After all, being a gossipmonger is human nature, and Morris is no exception.
He watched quietly from a distance with great interest, and saw two students standing facing each other in the corridor in front of the library.
One of them was Draco Malfoy and his two henchmen, while on the other side was a round-faced little boy, Harry's roommate, named Neville Longbottom.
Their fight seemed to be over; Neville's legs were bound together by Leg-Locker Curse, and Draco was smugly mocking him.
"Coward, get your wand out! Let's practice some spells!"
Neville trembled. "Let... let me go, Malfoy. This is the second time."
This cowardly reply only earned him a few jeers from the other side.
Suddenly, Neville's gaze fell on Morris in the distance. He stared at Neville, his eyes filled with tears.
Morris paused in his tracks, which was about to leave.
Tsk, they saw us.
He had originally planned to pretend he hadn't seen it, after all, he wasn't some meddlesome righteous hero, and he had more important things to do.
However, Neville's gaze was hard to ignore, especially since Draco Malfoy, with whom he had some conflict, was also on the other side.
Do some good deeds, please.
Morris reached for the four of them, a smile on his face. " Malfoy, long time no see. How have you been? I heard you were attacked by something yesterday."
Upon hearing this, Malfoy's eyes immediately flashed with wariness and anger.
Yesterday at noon, he was walking along the corridor when he was suddenly hit by something, leaving him in a very messy state. To make matters worse, he was spotted by a group of Gryffindor on his way back to the common room.
In just one night, the story spread throughout the entire school, and the rumors became increasingly outrageous.
This morning, the rumor had become that Draco Malfoy confessed his feelings to a Slytherin girl, was rejected, and in a fit of rage, tried to ambush her with a spell, but the spell rebounded and blew him ten feet away.
I have no idea which bastard made this up.
This is an utter disgrace.
What's even more frustrating is that he has no idea who did it.
But he was certain the rumors originated from the Gryffindor gang.