My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Chapter 82 Children, Your Thoughts Are Dangerous!

After bidding farewell to Draco, Maurice walked all the way to the restaurant.

It was getting late, and all four long tables in the college were empty, with only a few students still eating.

Morris picked out a rather appealing sandwich from the Ravenclaw table, took a bite, and immediately frowned.

It smells like soap; no wonder no one's touched it.

He disdainfully tossed the sandwich back onto the plate, then turned and strolled over to Gryffindor.

Harry was huddled together with the Weasley twins, whispering to each other, and the atmosphere didn't seem very relaxed.

Morris sat down next to George and casually asked, "What are you two talking about?"

Harry looked up and sighed. "About Quidditch."

"This doesn't look like a good thing."

"It's more than bad," Harry said in a low voice, his tone full of annoyance, "it's a disaster. Snape is going to be the referee for the next Quidditch match."

Fred chimed in, "We're worried that Snape will side with Slytherin."

“Your worries are unnecessary,” Maurice laughed. “Snape would never be fair.”

Who is Snape?

In Potions class, even if a Slytherin student farted, he could find a reason to add a few points.

Morris was certain that Snape would absolutely favor Slytherin's team.

George slumped his head on the table in despair. "What's the point of playing then? Let's just clean the trophy and send it straight to Slytherin."

Suddenly, Fred's eyes lit up, and he slammed his hand on the table. "I have an idea! How about we find a way to get Snape into the infirmary before the game? Morris, do you want to come with us?"

"Um?"

Morris tilted his head.

Children, your thoughts are dangerous.

He doesn't want to be fired yet, so let's just let it go.

Fred continued, "Do you have any water of life and death? Lend us some. We'll mix it into the water Snape is going to drink before the match."

“I’d be happy to lend it to you,” Maurice shrugged, “but Snape knows I can make the Water of Life and Death, and he can easily trace it back to me.”

"Moreover, although the Water of Life and Death doesn't have a strong taste, given Snape's familiarity with potions, he probably would have noticed something was wrong even before drinking it."

Upon hearing this, Fred clicked his tongue regretfully, "What a pity."

No matter what, they couldn't let Maurice be put in danger.

The Life and Death Water Project has to be put on hold for now.

Harry looked at Maurice and asked, somewhat puzzled, "Maurice, don't you mind Snape being the referee? I remember there was a match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw."

"I'm not a member of the team," Morris said. "Besides, since Snape is a done deal, there's no point in me caring."

Upon hearing this, Harry and the Weasley twins both sighed.

Having finished their Quidditch conversation, Maurice got down to business: "Fred, George, do you know of any secluded, spacious rooms in this castle?"

"A spacious and secluded room?"

“Yes,” Morris nodded, explaining, “I need a secluded place to conduct some magical experiments.”

His interstitial energy crystals are ready, enough for the advanced rituals of fireworks and canned goods.

The most urgent task now is to find a place where a magic circle can be set up.

The last time the ceremony was held in the clearing next to the Forbidden Forest, it was so loud that Dumbledore accidentally stumbled upon it.

Obviously, that place can no longer be used.

"How's that empty classroom on the fifth floor?" George stroked his chin. "There's nothing in there. Fred and I hid two huge boxes of dung balls there last semester, and nobody found out."

Morris sighed. "So those dung balls were yours. Let me remind you, just two nights ago, I saw Filch drag them away with my own eyes."

"!!"

Fred and George's expressions changed simultaneously, and they jumped up from their chairs.

They left the restaurant in a panic, saying, "We need to go to Filch's office to confirm."

Morrie shrugged and turned to Harry. "Oh, do you still want that cake?"

Harry absentmindedly pushed the cake in front of him toward Maurice.

He's currently preoccupied with figuring out how to deal with Snape being the referee, and has absolutely no appetite.

While eating his cake, Maurice comforted him, saying, "Relax, Harry. At least Snape is just a referee, not a player. He can't just throw the Quaffle into the opponent's goal, can he?"

"9

Harry gave a wry smile.

You know what, he actually thought Snape would do that.

Moreover, that's not what he's most worried about.

It's worth noting that during the previous match, Snape had already cast a spell on his broom, almost causing him to fall from the sky.

There will definitely be something even more terrifying waiting for him in the next match!

After finishing the cake, Maurice left the restaurant.

Taking advantage of his free time in the afternoon, he decided to try his luck in the castle and find a suitable place to set up an advancement ritual magic circle.

If all else fails, he will choose a time to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to complete the ceremony.

So Maurice began to wander aimlessly through the maze of corridors.

Although I've lived at Hogwarts for a long time, the castle seems to have endless possibilities for exploration.

.

He slowly walked down a rarely used corridor, inspecting each room.

Most of the rooms were either filled with discarded items or too small to fit a person, neither of which met his requirements.

Just as he was about to give up and turn into the next corridor, the scene in the last room made him stop in his tracks.

There was a strange-looking little creature curled up next to a pile of old mops and buckets, fast asleep.

He was about a meter tall, thin and bony, with wrinkled skin all over his body, and wrapped in a brightly colored tea towel.

It's a house-elf.

Morris made a judgment immediately.

Although he knew that many house-elves lived in Hogwarts, this was the first time he had ever seen them in person.

He observed the sleeping house-elf with great interest and said, "Hey, wake up."

The little elf trembled, slowly opened its eyes, and looked around blankly.

It let out a short screech when its gaze was fixed on Morris.

"Bad Bobo! Lazy, shameful Bobo! Sleeping during work hours! And the esteemed gentleman saw you! Bobo doesn't deserve to live! Bobo should shove himself down the toilet and flush him away!"

The house-elf named Popo immediately began banging its head against the floor.

""

Morris paused for two seconds, then decisively turned around and walked away.

Although he had already learned a little about the personalities of house-elves from books, he still wanted to say something—

Neuropathy.

The best way to deal with this situation is to ignore it.

However, just as Maurice was about to step out of the room, he suddenly felt a resistance.

He turned around and saw that Bobo had knelt at his feet and hugged his leg.