Aragog was silent for a moment, his eight legs rubbing against the ground, making a clicking sound.
"Lord Charlie, I don't want to trespass on the Centaurs' territory either," his voice carried a hint of helplessness.
"But our colony is growing larger and larger, and our current territory simply can't support so many offspring."
He paused, then continued:
"I'm old, and I can't control them. When they get hungry, they'll go to the Centaurs' side to forage, and I can't stop them."
Charlie listened, then directly interrupted him.
"I have a solution for the territory problem," his tone was calm, but held an undeniable authority.
"You just take your offspring to find that rat. Once you find it, I'll solve the territory problem for you."
Although Aragog's eight eyes couldn't see, at this moment, they showed surprise.
"Really? Lord Charlie, are you serious?"
"My word is my bond," Charlie said.
Aragog trembled with excitement.
"Good! Good! The entire Acromantula clan will do their utmost to help you find those two animals!"
Charlie nodded in satisfaction, then turned to look at Magorian.
"As for the Centaurs, I also ask for your help in capturing them."
Magorian nodded heavily.
Just now, Charlie could have simply asked the Acromantula to find the rat, with no need to mention the territory issue.
But he did so, allowing their Centaur clan to no longer have to contend with the Acromantula.
This gesture brought a warmth to his heart.
"Lord Charlie, we Centaurs are willing to serve you."
Magorian bowed solemnly.
The other Centaurs also lowered their heads, indicating their obedience.
Charlie's face showed a satisfied smile.
This was good. With the Acromantula and the Centaurs, plus the House-elves in the Castle and the Owls outside the Castle, Peter Pettigrew had no wings to fly.
The Centaurs were also satisfied; the Acromantula problem was resolved, and they no longer had to worry about their territory being encroached upon in the future.
The Acromantula were also satisfied; as long as they found that rat and dog, the problems of food and territory would be solved.
As for how Charlie would solve the territory problem?
Charlie himself hadn't figured it out yet.
But it didn't matter, he would make promises first.
What emperor doesn't know how to make promises? Anyway, they loved promises.
The system is so weak, if I don't make promises, how will they work with all their heart?
Now, eating promises, everyone is happy and satisfied, and will surely do their best to capture Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.
Aragog even said with reverence, "Thank you, Lord Charlie."
See, he even has to thank us.
Outside the Acromantula's lair, Charlie and Hagrid bid farewell to the Centaurs.
With the business done, it was time to return to the Castle.
The events of this night had left Hagrid terrified. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and mumbled:
"I just want to go back to my Hut and have a proper bowl of rock cakes mixed with blue cheese."
Charlie glanced at him.
He's an old foodie, who likes to eat wall peeling mixed with poop.
Magorian stood with his people at the edge of the forest, moonlight filtering through the canopy onto them.
He gripped the bow in his hand and bowed deeply to Charlie.
"Lord Charlie, the Centaur clan will forever remember tonight's kindness."
Firenze stepped forward, his golden mane flowing in the night wind.
"Rest assured, Lord Charlie, we will search with all our might."
Charlie nodded, then turned and walked back with Hagrid.
"Charlie, I really didn't expect you to become the King of Wizards."
His voice was filled with emotion.
"You must be the greatest Wizard after Dumbledore."
Charlie smiled.
"I'll take that as a good omen."
Behind him, Firenze stood still, looking up at the starry sky.
The two shining constellations were still bright, radiating light in the night.
His lips moved slightly, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself.
"Who said, just the King of Wizards?"
...The holiday ended, and Hogwarts resumed classes.
The hurried footsteps of students once again echoed in the corridors, and the rustling sound of quills on parchment came from the classrooms.
Every class seemed to become busy, and the Professors also accelerated their teaching pace.
But this had no effect on Charlie.
No matter what class it was, he was sleeping, throwing all his homework to Hermione and Ernie.
It was difficult for Hermione, who had twelve classes, to also write some of Charlie's homework.
Although Hermione complained, she would still help him write it.
Ernie was even more direct; he hadn't chosen that many elective courses, had more free time, and his courses perfectly overlapped with Charlie's, so he always did two copies of homework.
The Professors also didn't bother Charlie; for him, attending class or not was the same.
Only Snape was different; his love for Charlie was deep, and he was merciless with deducting points and giving detentions.
January in Britain was cold and damp, with rain almost ceaseless.
Therefore, the Care of Magical Creatures Class, held outdoors, was always unpopular with students, especially those sensitive to the cold.
But Hagrid was very thoughtful.
He made a bonfire in the clearing, filling it with fire salamanders.
The orange-red flames crackled in the damp, cold air, and waves of heat washed over them, warming everyone.
Students gathered around the bonfire, warming themselves while observing the fire salamanders in the flames. Those little creatures swam in the flames as if they were in water.
Hagrid would explain enthusiastically from the side.
"Fire salamanders are very magical creatures."
"They feed on fire and will die if they leave the flames."
Divination Class was not so relaxed.
Charlie somewhat regretted having fooled Professor Trelawney at the time.
She was now very convinced that Charlie had extremely strong prophetic talent, and would pull him aside every class to ask about previous predictions.
"Dear Charlie, have you seen my bloody disaster pass?"
Professor Trelawney blinked her magnified eyes, her voice ethereal.
Charlie could only perfunctorily nod each time.
"It's passed, it's passed, Professor."
Hermione was very disdainful of Divination Class; she believed these predictions were illogical, and that Arithmancy was the true method for calculating the future.
Professor Trelawney naturally perceived her attitude, and so often said that Hermione's soul lacked the talent to perceive the future, had no inner eye, and was not suitable for Divination Class.
This made Hermione grit her teeth in anger.
Charlie had Hagrid contact the Centaurs and Acromantula for him.
During the first week of term, no news came.
Charlie was not in a hurry; he slept when he should, ate when he should, after all, it was only the first week.
There was still no news in the second week; even the Owls and House-elves had no clues.
Charlie momentarily doubted if his judgment was wrong.
Had Peter Pettigrew already left Hogwarts to venture out into the world?
Was he that brave?
Charlie thought about it, then felt it was unlikely. Peter had been hiding in the Weasley family for over a decade, never even transforming into a human, which showed how much he feared death.
At this time, he should still be hiding in some corner of Hogwarts.
By the third week, as Charlie was leaving the Divination Class classroom, Storm flew in through the window, clutching a crumpled note in his claws.
Charlie took the note and unfolded it; it was Hagrid's messy handwriting.
"The Centaurs have news."
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