"Too foolish," Rhys shook his head. "It's as if he didn't even consider the staff and students of Hogwarts as people. A simple spell was all it took to end his life."
"What was that just now?" Daphne asked curiously.
Rhys explained to Daphne the monk's method of infiltration.
Daphne and Astoria both covered their mouths in shock. Using rainfall to infiltrate Hogwarts? Such a method was unheard of and nearly impossible to defend against!
"It's not a big problem because this kind of 'entry method' requires a special tool to work, and they probably don't have a second one," Rhys replied.
'Even if they had a second one, they likely wouldn't be able to find someone capable of using it,' Rhys added in his mind.
While Rhys severed the Secret Order's attempt to extend their reach into Hogwarts, Harry was busy finding a way to escape Filch's office and managed to return to the hallway. There, he encountered Gryffindor's house ghost, Nearly Headless Nick.
Harry struck up a conversation with him.
"This year's Halloween will mark the 500th anniversary of my death," Nick said, sounding quite proud.
"I'm hosting a party in a rather spacious dungeon classroom. Friends from all across the Seven Seas will be attending. If you could join us, I'd be most honored. Mr. Weasley and any other living guests are always the most welcome. But I dare say you'd rather attend the school's feast, wouldn't you?"
"Oh no, I'll come," Harry accepted Nick's invitation.
Harry's conversation with Nick caught Rhys' attention.
Noticing that Rhys was observing the Gryffindor ghost, Daphne took the initiative to explain the ghost's story and how he got his nickname.
"He's the ghost of Gryffindor House. Unlike the Bloody Baron of our house, Nearly Headless Nick is quite an outgoing figure. His real name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. He studied in Gryffindor during his lifetime and, after graduating, became a court wizard. However, due to a magical mishap, Sir Nicholas was sentenced to execution. The executioner's axe was incredibly dull—it took forty-five blows, and even then, his head wasn't completely severed from his neck," Daphne said softly.
Rhys frowned.
Clearly, this wasn't a story that would please most wizards.
"And that is the importance of the Statute of Secrecy," Rhys remarked after a moment of silence, drawing this conclusion.
To many proponents of pure-blood ideology, the Statute of Secrecy was considered an insult and a disgrace to wizardkind. However, Rhys—who was regarded by pure-blood supremacists as a "founding figure"—saw the Statute as a form of protection for wizards.
The reason was simple: wizards had never established their own government or created something akin to a magical state. As a result, they had always existed as a dependent class to Muggles.
A vine may cling to a tree for survival, but it can never replace the tree.
There were indeed governments established by those who wielded magic—ancient Egypt, ancient Greece, and the Norse pantheon were such examples. But all of them had vanished into the currents of history, with the Norse gods even being overthrown by wizards themselves.
The moment wizards refused to remain slaves to the gods and initiated Ragnarok, the Statute of Secrecy became the only option for those unwilling to integrate into the Muggle world.
In Rhys' view, even his awakening could not change the reality of wizards being overwhelmingly weaker compared to the Muggle world—not even with the help of his three old friends.
Wizards today were far too unimpressive. For that matter, even the wizards of five centuries ago had been embarrassingly lacking in capability.
A Hogwarts graduate who didn't even understand basic Transfiguration, disarmed and captured by Muggles, held overnight, and publicly executed the next day with no one coming to his rescue. Rhys truly had no words to describe the incompetence.
Given the vast disparity in power, it was better to remain hidden. The good news was that wizards were remarkably skilled at playing hide and seek.
As for the idea of merging the magical and Muggle worlds, Rhys believed it was impossible under the current magical world's public opinion. Wizards were far more conservative than they had been in his time, too afraid to even interact with Muggles.
At that moment, Nearly Headless Nick floated cheerfully past Rhys, Daphne, and Astoria. He seemed to be in high spirits, likely because he had secured the attendance of the Boy Who Lived at his deathday party.
Suddenly recalling something, Rhys called out to Nick.
"Sir Nicholas, have you invited the Bloody Baron to your deathday party? Do you think he will attend?"
Nearly Headless Nick seemed quite surprised to be called upon. He paused mid-air, glancing at Rhys and the other two, then recalled that they were Slytherin students.
"Of course!" Nick said proudly. "This will be the grandest deathday party of the century. No ghost can resist such an event—not even the Bloody Baron."
Rhys nodded. That was ideal. He had wanted to talk to the Baron but hadn't had the opportunity before.
Nick's words also reminded Rhys of Ravenclaw, trapped within the seal. If she were free, she surely wouldn't miss such a gathering, would she?
"May I attend your deathday party, Sir Nicholas?" Rhys asked, hoping to use Nick's event as a chance to have a proper conversation with his student, the Baron.
He was deeply curious about the Baron's inner journey. To this day, Rhys could hardly believe that the Baron had killed Ravenclaw's daughter.
Hearing that Rhys wanted to attend his deathday party, Nick was momentarily stunned.
Then, a delighted expression spread across his face, so much so that his nearly-detached head wobbled precariously.
"Absolutely! It would be my greatest honor! The two young ladies, as lovely as white roses, are equally welcome."
"Of course."
"Delighted to join!"
Daphne and Astoria chimed in eagerly.
Seeing Rhys take the initiative to attend the party, both sisters were quick to accept Nick's invitation as well. The unique nature of an event hosted exclusively by ghosts had sparked their intense curiosity.
As for the school's Halloween feast, that was an annual affair. A ghost's deathday party, however, was a far rarer occasion—there was no telling when the next one might occur. By then, they themselves might already be ghosts.
"Fantastic!" Nearly Headless Nick was ecstatic at having casually recruited three more living attendees for his party.
However, before leaving, he sheepishly made a small request: he asked Rhys and the sisters to affirm, in front of Sir Patrick, the head of the Headless Hunt, that Nick was an exceptionally impressive and fearsome ghost.
Perhaps, for ghosts, inspiring fear in the living was a matter of great pride.
This was no issue at all, and Rhys readily agreed.
Before long, Halloween arrived.
________
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