Chapter 206: We Are All Cautious People!
"Have those two damn little brats gone missing again?" Argus Filch turned into the corridor where Duncan and the others were, his bulging, fish-like eyes staring hard all around. From time to time, he bared a mouthful of teeth—black with tartar, broken and missing—and panted in great gusts.
"Darling, search properly around here. In such a short time, they must still be hiding nearby and haven't run far!"
Mrs. Norris meowed twice in response, pressed her nose to the floor to sniff carefully, and a flash of doubt passed through her eyes. One of the lingering scents on the floor was somewhat familiar to her, as though she had smelled it somewhere before.
"Darling, have you found something? Where are those two little brats?" Seeing Mrs. Norris moving about the corridor, Filch's eyes lit with delight, and he bent down in a hurry to speak.
Mrs. Norris gave a cry, ignored Filch, and kept her head down, her nose skimming swiftly over the floor. After a dozen seconds or so, she finally determined that the owner of that scent was her old friend, and she even found his location. Putting on airs, Mrs. Norris lifted her head and led the overjoyed Filch to the other side, meowing several times in succession.
Although to Fred and the others it sounded like ordinary cat cries, what reached Duncan's ears became: "It's four this time, or no deal!"
Didn't think this little cat had learned to raise the price! Duncan lifted an eyebrow, took some dried fish he had sun-dried himself from his pouch, and flicked them to a spot not far away. Mrs. Norris walked over as if nothing had happened, casually scraped her forepaws on the floor, and kicked the four pieces of dried fish into a hidden corner to stash them away.
"Pleasure doing business!" Mrs. Norris called to Duncan, then strode off to the far end of the corridor with Filch close on her heels.
"They've finally gone!" Pressed tight against the wall, Fred let out a breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and let his hanging heart settle.
"Duncan, do you have some unspeakable relationship with that cat?" George said with a grin. He had just seen Mrs. Norris nearly reach their position, yet she suddenly turned her head and went off into the distance, as though deliberately avoiding them.
"She and I are close business partners. You pair of utter fools—going out for a nocturnal stroll and not making nice with the main patrol—no wonder Filch chases you both all over every time!" Duncan spoke with disdain, swished his wand to raise a mist of water vapor, and canceled the invisibility effect on them all.
Fred wiped the mist from his face, felt that Duncan made a lot of sense, and asked curiously, "What did you use to bribe that cat?"
"Dried fish I sun-dried myself, with some herbs added specially to enhance the aroma," Duncan said, then looked Fred and George up and down and went on, "But this method may not be particularly effective for the two of you."
"Why?" George tilted his head, blinking in puzzlement.
"Because Mrs. Norris has lived in the castle for many years and is extremely wary. She won't eat things fed by just anyone." Duncan explained, "Never mind the two of you—your whole bodies radiate the aura of wrongdoers! And you're not as handsome as I am either!"
"Get lost!" Fred and George, fierce as devils, pounced on the conceited Duncan and each gave him a punch.
With distaste, Duncan pushed the crumpled pair away and said, "All right, turn back to your original selves and head back. I'll go have a look over there."
"What are you going over there for?" Fred at once grabbed Duncan solemnly. "That weirdo may not have gone far. It's dangerous over there now."
"Don't worry," Duncan said. "Since Filch has arrived, he won't dare to continue the chase. That shows he doesn't dare expose himself yet, and his strength shouldn't be particularly great—at least he isn't confident he could slip out of the castle under pursuit by other professors or by Dumbledore. I'll sneak over quietly to see who that person actually is and what he wants to do. If there's any danger, I'll call a professor."
"But that's still dangerous! His level of magic isn't in the same league as ours. What if you don't have time then?" George said.
"Yeah!" Fred nodded hard. "If you absolutely have to go, fine—but we have to go with you to protect you!"
"Mm… all right," Duncan nodded, reluctantly agreeing. "But don't be rash later—be careful."
"Got it, got it. Don't you trust us?" Fred said with a grin. "We are all cautious people!"
Duncan glanced at Fred and, face full of disdain, groused, "Why does that sound so grating when it comes out of your mouth?"
"That's because you've never understood us!" George said, hooking an arm under Duncan's with Fred. "Cut the rubbish. We should move. If we don't, that weirdo will have slipped away, and then we can forget about finding any clues."
With the two of them taking him by the arms, Duncan quietly retraced their route, but they didn't find that weirdo who had disguised himself as Snape anywhere along the way.
"Do you think that person ran off out of fear, or went back to the fourth floor to go on trying to steal the treasure there?" They huddled in a spot not easily noticed by others, and Fred glanced around and spoke in a low voice.
Duncan thought for a moment and said, "Both are possible. After all, you two made too much noise just now. If he got cold feet, he'd likely run."
"So what should we do next?" George asked. "Go back to the dormitory, or go to that room on the fourth floor for another look?"
"The fourth floor," Duncan said. Even if that person hadn't gone back, he wanted to ask that three-headed dog for a bit of information.
"No problem. But we need to be careful—Filch might head to the fourth floor in a bit as well," Fred nodded, adding a reminder.
"Mm, all right." Duncan inclined his head slightly and walked with the Weasley twins toward the fourth-floor corridor, the two of them keeping in front of him to shield him.
When they reached the door confining the three-headed dog, the wooden door was ajar. A pleasant harp tune mixed with snores drifted out, and the big dog seemed still fast asleep. Duncan quietly eased his head through the crack of the door to observe. A golden harp leaned in the corner, its strings trembling lightly and sounding without pause.
The ugly-faced, three-headed big dog lay bonelessly on the floor, a huge bubble floating from its nose. Sticky drool kept sliding from the corners of its mouths, soaking the paws it had tucked under its heads, and the patch of floor before it was turning into a little pool.
"How does it look?" Fred stood behind Duncan, rose on tiptoe, and tried hard to peer into the room.
"That person probably isn't here," Duncan said, glancing at the trapdoor beneath the three-headed dog, which was shut tight. Then he walked into the room, stopped the harp in the corner, and, under the Weasley twins' gaze, unceremoniously gave the dog two kicks.
"Wake up, wake up, Fluffy. If you keep sleeping, the room you're guarding will be cleared out. Let's see how you'll explain yourself to Dumbledore then!"
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