It was the weekend again.
Peter Pettigrew seemed to have evaporated from Hogwarts.
There was no news from the Owls, House-elves, Centaurs, or Acromantulas.
Charlie sat in the common room, tapping his fingers on the armrest.
He had used every method available and searched every possible place, but Pettigrew was nowhere to be found.
"Is there anywhere I haven't considered?"
Charlie frowned. This was actually possible; after all, Hogwarts was ancient, and perhaps an unknown Chamber of Secrets or secret passage lay hidden within.
If that were the case, it would take even longer to catch Peter Pettigrew.
However, Charlie could afford to wait; he didn't believe Peter could avoid showing his face forever.
In the morning, an Owl landed in front of Charlie, delivering a letter.
"Charlie, fancy coming over to my Hut for a chat? – Hagrid"
Charlie, having nothing else to do, decided to go and see.
Outside Hagrid's Hut, Buckbeak was napping on the ground, wings folded, occasionally twitching.
Ever since Hagrid brought an Acromantula to class once, students' acceptance of Buckbeak instantly soared.
Compared to those terrifying spiders, Buckbeak was practically as cute as a several-hundred-kilogram bird.
Moreover, no one dared to cause trouble in Hagrid's class, fearing that Hagrid's little pet might take their lives.
Even Professor McGonagall thought Buckbeak was quite good in class.
Upon seeing Charlie, Buckbeak immediately lowered his head, his four limbs on the ground, wings pressed close to his body, showing his reverence.
Charlie paid no attention, raising his hand to knock on the door.
"Come in!" Hagrid's voice came from inside.
The Hut was warm, and the fire in the fireplace was burning brightly.
Hagrid fumbled to serve a dessert and black tea, the teacup as large as a soup bowl.
Charlie took a sip of tea but didn't touch the dessert. He knew Hagrid's taste; the fellow could mix rock cakes and blue cheese and still think it tasted good.
Don't believe him if he says it's delicious; listen to him if he says it's bad.
Hagrid sat opposite, his rough fingers rubbing the rim of the teacup, looking like he wanted to speak but hesitated.
"Just say it if you have something to say," Charlie put down his teacup.
"Uh, well…" Hagrid cleared his throat.
"Charlie, I want to ask you a favor."
"Speak."
"Could you talk to the Centaurs and ask them to give a lesson to the students?" Hagrid spoke quickly.
Charlie raised an eyebrow:
"Centaurs are very proud. Do you think they'd be willing to be gawked at like Buckbeak?"
"No, no!" Hagrid quickly waved his hands.
"I don't want them to be exhibits; I want to invite them to be assistant teachers, to help me complete the lessons. Of course, when necessary, they'd need to introduce their own race and culture."
"Why don't you go yourself?"
Hagrid scratched his messy beard:
"They might not be willing to interact with Wizards… but they should listen to you."
Charlie was silent for a moment.
Hagrid had provided Norbert with food for so long, always without complaint. He could help with this favor.
"Alright, I'll go ask," Charlie stood up.
"Really?" Hagrid's eyes lit up.
"That's great! I knew you'd help!"
"Don't get too happy too soon; the Centaurs might not agree."
"No problem, no problem, just go and talk to them!" Hagrid's beard trembled with his smile.
Hagrid then speared a piece of dessert and stuffed it into his mouth. He took a bite, his expression suddenly stiffening as he looked down at the cake in his hand.
There was a large hole in the middle of the cake, with fine tooth marks around the edge.
"Damn it!" Hagrid looked annoyed.
"It seems like I've had a mouse in the house recently; it keeps stealing my food. Look, I was planning to save this cake for tonight."
Charlie's mouth twitched; good thing he hadn't eaten his dessert.
Hagrid continued to complain:
"This mouse is also incredibly cunning; the several mousetraps I set were useless. It doesn't come out during the day, only at night when I'm asleep. The night before last, it even stole half of my pickled fish."
Charlie's heart suddenly stirred.
Could this mouse be Peter Pettigrew?
Owls couldn't scout inside Hagrid's Hut, House-elves wouldn't leave the Castle, and Centaurs and Acromantulas were active in the Forbidden Forest.
So Hagrid's Hut had never been checked from start to finish!
He had been oblivious, overlooking this place.
"Hagrid, have you seen that mouse?" Charlie put down his teacup, his tone calm.
"No," Hagrid scratched his head.
"But it must be quite large; an ordinary mouse couldn't eat this much cake."
Charlie stood up, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the Hut.
"Do you mind if I look for that mouse?"
"Of course not!" Hagrid's eyes lit up.
"It would be great if you could catch it. This fellow has been ruining my food quite badly."
Charlie took out his wand and waved it gently.
Several old tin cans, a wooden barrel, and some scraps of cloth on the floor instantly twisted and deformed, transforming into five cats of various fur colors in the blink of an eye.
After landing, these cats shook themselves and immediately scattered, darting into every corner of the Hut.
"Merlin's beard!" Hagrid's eyes lit up, and he clapped Charlie on the shoulder.
"That's brilliant!"
He suddenly remembered something, turned, and kicked Fang, who was lying nearby:
"You useless thing! I've kept you for so long, and you can't even catch a mouse!"
Fang staggered from the kick, whimpering twice in complaint.
I'm a dog, for crying out loud! Haven't you heard of a dog being nosy by catching mice?
Charlie stood still, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the room.
The cats moved nimbly, darting under the bed, behind cabinets, beside the fireplace, not even missing the cracks in the corners of the walls.
Hagrid rubbed his hands, nervously watching the cats' movements.
Suddenly, there was a rustling sound from under the bed, followed by a sharp squeak from a mouse and a low meow from a cat.
"Caught it!" Hagrid shouted excitedly.
A gray mouse darted out from under the bed, moving incredibly fast, frantically fleeing along the base of the wall. Behind it were two cats, their claws scratching the floor with a harsh sound.
Charlie raised his hand.
The mouse seemed to be caught by an invisible hand, its limbs flailing as it flew towards Charlie.
It struggled desperately, letting out a piercing shriek, its tail flicking rapidly.
Charlie pinched the scruff of the mouse's neck, bringing it to his eye.
It was a rather large gray mouse, with dull fur, covered in dust and food scraps.
One toe on its right front paw was missing, leaving a bald scar.
Charlie stared at the mouse, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Long time no see, Scabbers."
"Or rather, hello, Peter Pettigrew."
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