Chapter 177 Eight-Eyed Giant Spider, Go and take down Little Pettigrew
During the day, Hogwarts belonged to the students, but at night, the Owls in the Owlery took over the Castle.
Normally, they would practice hunting skills on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, but tonight, led by Storm, the Owls were searching everywhere for Peter Pettigrew.
Although Pettigrew had turned into a rat and was difficult to track, don't forget that Owls are natural predators of rats; they have a knack for finding rat traces.
In the dormitory, Charlie pushed open the door and walked out.
Justin and Ernie were chatting on their beds and weren't surprised to see Charlie leave.
Since their first year, they had grown accustomed to Charlie sneaking out at night.
Charlie went down the stairs to the first floor and paused at the corner.
In the corridor ahead, Filch walked by with an oil lamp, Madam Norris trailing at his feet.
The old caretaker was muttering something, probably complaining again about students being unruly at night.
Charlie cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and continued forward.
Filch didn't notice anything unusual, but Madam Norris looked in Charlie's direction with some confusion.
"Meow."
"What's wrong? Are you hungry? Have a dried fish."
Filch happily pulled out a dried fish from his pocket and fed it to his cat.
Charlie glanced at them; Filch was indeed very good to his cat.
Charlie passed through the entrance hall and pushed open the Castle doors.
The cold night wind blew in, carrying the scent of trees from the Forbidden Forest, and the moon in the sky was perfectly full.
Storm was flying in the air and, seeing Charlie, immediately swooped down, landing in front of him and rubbing his head against Charlie.
Charlie reached out and stroked its head.
"How is it? Any discoveries?"
Storm shook its head, its wings drooping slightly, looking a little dejected.
Tonight, it had led the other Owls in turning the outside of the Castle upside down, not even missing a single rat hole on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, but it hadn't found that particular rat.
Charlie patted Storm's wing.
"It's okay, keep looking. Peter must still be at Hogwarts."
He turned and looked at the Castle, his gaze deepening.
"He wouldn't dare transform back into human form now; if he left Hogwarts, he'd truly have to live like a rat in the sewers."
Charlie sneered.
"I don't believe that after more than ten years of living comfortably with the weasley family, he could now steel himself to wander."
People like Peter Pettigrew are greedy for life, afraid of death, and timid as a mouse. He had been a pet in the weasley family for over ten years, with food and drink every day.
Having gotten used to such a life, would he go out and be a true rat? Scavenge in sewers? Fight with stray cats?
Impossible.
He must still be hiding in some corner of Hogwarts, praying that Sirius Black would be caught quickly.
To find him, Charlie had also asked Billy to have the House-elves search for Peter in the Castle. Adding the Owls outside the Castle, now only the deeper parts of the Forbidden Forest remained unsearched.
Although Charlie thought it unlikely that Peter would go deep into the Forbidden Forest, as there might be dangerous creatures there, just to be safe, Charlie still decided to find a way to search the deeper parts of the Forbidden Forest.
Charlie remembered that Hagrid kept quite a few Acromantulas, so why not ask them for help?
So Charlie walked towards Hagrid's Hut and knocked on the door.
There was a clatter inside, then the light came on, and Hagrid opened the door, wearing a coat.
Seeing it was Charlie, he frowned.
"Charlie, it's already night," Hagrid said in a low voice.
"You're out after hours."
Charlie rolled his eyes.
"Do you think it's possible for me not to be out after hours?"
Hagrid scratched his head, looking a bit troubled.
"Then don't appear in front of me, don't forget, I'm a Professor."
"Professor Hagrid," Charlie's voice became slow and deliberate.
"I think you don't want to see Norbert again."
Hagrid immediately panicked.
"Tsk tsk tsk," Charlie shook his head and sighed.
"Last time I rode Norbert, she was still calling your name."
"You don't want to never see Norbert again, Professor?"
[Your Majesty threatens the Professor, committing an offense in front of him, tyrant points +10]
Hearing this, Hagrid immediately changed his tune, declaring righteously,
"I haven't seen you tonight!"
He pushed the door wider and stepped aside to let Charlie in.
"Come in quickly, don't let anyone see."
Charlie walked into the Hut.
The fireplace inside was burning brightly, and Fang was dozing by the fire.
Hagrid closed the door and turned to look at Charlie.
"You came to see me so late, there must be something, right?"
Charlie sat by the fireplace and went straight to the point.
"I remember the Acromantula you keep is called Aragog, right?"
At the mention of this, Hagrid's whole demeanor brightened. His eyes lit up under his thick hair, and his voice was filled with unconcealed excitement.
"You mean Aragog? He's my good friend! When I was a student, he was just a little guy, and now he's—"
"I need Aragog's help," Charlie interrupted him.
"Can you take me to see him?"
Hagrid's enthusiasm immediately waned.
"Aragog is old now, very old. He's not as agile as he used to be, and I'm afraid he can't help much."
Charlie thought for a moment and changed his question.
"Didn't you bring a dozen Acromantulas to class last time? What about them?"
Hagrid scratched his head, looking a bit awkward; that class had earned him quite a scolding.
"Those are Aragog's descendants."
"Does he have many descendants?"
"Many," Hagrid nodded.
"Very many."
Charlie's eyes lit up.
"That's perfect, the more spiders, the better."
Hagrid was stunned for a moment, seemingly not expecting Charlie to say that.
He hesitated for a moment, then finally stood up and took a lantern from the wall.
"Alright, let's go, I'll take you."
The two walked out of the Hut.
The Forbidden Forest at night was shrouded in darkness, with overlapping tree shadows, and the leaves rustled as the wind blew.
Hagrid walked ahead, holding the lantern, and in his hand, he also held a small pink umbrella—which was actually his wand.
Hagrid's wand had been broken once due to the Chamber of Secrets incident; he had repaired it and hidden it inside the umbrella.
Although his name had been cleared and he could now use a normal wand, he had grown accustomed to keeping his wand hidden in the umbrella.
After walking for about twenty minutes, the surrounding trees became denser, and the light grew dimmer.
But the ground was barren, as if repeatedly grazed by sheep, revealing bare earth and tree roots.
Hagrid stopped and lowered his voice.
"Further ahead is Aragog's territory. Don't wander off, those little ones aren't very friendly to strangers."
Charlie nodded.
Chapter 178 The Eight-Eyed Giant Spider and the Centaur
The two continued to walk forward.
The light in the forest grew dimmer, with only the faint glow from Hagrid's lantern.
Under the canopy ahead, a shadow suddenly moved.
Hagrid stopped, nervously gripping his small pink umbrella.
"Who's there?"
Charlie also looked in the direction of the sound.
The shadow approached; it was a group of Centaurs.
The leading Centaur was tall, his silver mane gleaming coldly in the moonlight, holding a bow in his hand.
Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief, a smile appearing on his face.
"Magorian! It's you, you startled me."
Magorian did not respond to Hagrid's warmth; his expression was serious.
"Hagrid, what are you doing here?" His gaze turned to Charlie, a flicker of hostility in his eyes.
"And bringing a Wizard's cub."
Charlie raised an eyebrow; it was the first time anyone had called him that.
Hagrid quickly explained:
"This is Charlie; he has some things to do, and I'm bringing him to meet Aragog."
"No matter what it is," Magorian interrupted him, his voice cold.
"This is not a place for you Wizards. Leave now, before danger arrives."
The atmosphere instantly solidified.
Hagrid opened his mouth, unsure what to say.
He knew where the Centaurs' hostility towards Wizards came from—Wizards always treated Centaurs as inferior beings, discriminating against and oppressing them. It was only natural for Centaurs to be hostile towards Wizards.
Just then, a young Centaur walked out from the Centaur group.
His coat was light gold, and he looked much younger than Magorian.
He looked at Charlie and said, "I once heard Hagrid speak of an exceptionally gifted Wizard named Charlie. Might that be Lord Charlie?"
Charlie gave Hagrid an unexpected glance.
Hagrid scratched his head awkwardly, explaining softly, "It was just casual chat during idle times."
Charlie nodded.
"I am Charlie."
Upon hearing this, the young Centaur bowed to Charlie.
"My name is Firenze. I hope Lord Charlie will forgive Magorian's rudeness just now."
Magorian's face instantly turned ashen. He turned to stare at Firenze, his voice suppressing anger.
"Firenze, what are you doing? Are you going to be a human's pet?"
Firenze did not respond, only raising his head to look at the night sky.
His gaze passed through the gaps in the tree canopy, landing on the stars, and his voice became ethereal.
"Magorian, have you forgotten? Today, Cepheus and Cassiopeia are exceptionally bright."
Magorian froze.
He also looked up at the starry sky; those two constellations were indeed brighter than usual, emitting dazzling light in the night.
Magorian's expression changed, from anger to shock, and then to disbelief.
"Are you saying..."
He turned his head, his gaze falling on Charlie, his eyes complex.
Charlie stood still, his face full of speechlessness.
Why are all the Centaurs at Hogwarts such riddlers?
"Can you two just speak plainly?" Charlie couldn't help but ask.
Firenze turned around, his head bowed.
"My apologies, Lord Charlie. This is a Centaur prophecy; the stars foretell that a king will descend today."
He paused, then looked up at Charlie.
"And the king is Lord Charlie."
Hagrid's eyes widened, looking at Charlie in shock.
But soon, he felt that it seemed quite reasonable. After all, with Charlie's outrageous performances, it wouldn't be strange to call him a king.
Charlie, however, was very calm; wasn't this obvious? Don't treat a foolish monarch as anything less than an emperor.
Behind Firenze, the Centaurs exchanged glances.
They looked at Charlie, some doubt in their eyes.
He didn't look particularly special; was this the future king?
But Centaurs are a race that believes in astrological prophecies; the stars never lie.
Magorian was silent for a moment, then finally stepped forward and bowed deeply to Charlie.
"Lord Charlie, I was presumptuous just now. I hope you don't mind."
Charlie waved his hand.
"It's fine."
Seeing the atmosphere ease, Hagrid quickly seized the opportunity to ask.
"By the way, Magorian, I remember your Centaur territory isn't over here. Why are you here?"
Magorian's expression grew even more serious.
"Hagrid, we had no choice," he said in a deep voice.
"Originally, in the Forbidden Forest, we Centaurs and the Acromantulas kept to ourselves, hunting in our respective territories without interfering with each other."
He paused, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes.
"But the Acromantulas are breeding too fast. Their numbers are growing, and they are constantly expanding their territory, already encroaching on our hunting grounds."
Firenze took over, his tone equally displeased.
"Last month, they even injured our kinsmen."
Hagrid's face changed.
"What? They injured your people?"
He waved his hands somewhat frantically.
"That shouldn't be; Aragog promised me it wouldn't let its offspring harm innocent creatures."
Magorian sneered.
"Hagrid, you are too naive. That old spider can no longer control its descendants."
He gripped the bow in his hand, his gaze sharp.
"So we are here today to clear out these Acromantulas."
Hagrid grew anxious.
"Wait, Magorian."
He quickly walked in front of Magorian, his voice pleading.
"I can talk to Aragog, to make it restrain its offspring and stop encroaching on your territory. We can resolve this peacefully, without violence."
Magorian shook his head.
"It's too late, Hagrid. We have already given them a chance."
Just then, there were clacking sounds all around.
It was the sound of spider legs moving on the ground, dense and grating.
Charlie turned his head, his eyes sharpening.
Unbeknownst to them, a group of Acromantulas had crawled out from the depths of the forest, surrounding them.
Each of these giant spiders was as large as a calf, their dark bodies almost merging with the shadows in the night.
Their eight eyes glowed with an eerie green light, and their massive fangs reflected a cold gleam in the moonlight.
The Centaurs immediately became alert, drawing their bowstrings, arrows aimed at the Acromantulas.
The Acromantulas showed no intention of retreating; they slowly moved forward, forming a encirclement.
Hagrid stood in the middle, pacing anxiously.
"Wait! Everyone calm down!"
He turned towards the Acromantulas, raising both hands.
"I'm Hagrid! You know me! I'm Aragog's friend!"
But the Acromantulas did not stop.
The largest one, at the front, opened and closed its two giant fangs, emitting a low sound.
"Hagrid... we certainly remember you."
The voice was hoarse and chilling.
"But this has nothing to do with you. The Centaurs have invaded our territory, and we will tear them apart and claim the entire Forbidden Forest for ourselves."
Magorian snorted coldly.
"Absurd! You were the ones who crossed the line first!"
He drew his bowstring taut, the arrow pointing directly at the leading Acromantula.
The other Centaurs also raised their bows and arrows, ready to shoot at any moment.
The Acromantulas likewise adopted an attacking posture, their fangs spread open, emitting threatening hissing sounds.
Hagrid was sweating profusely with anxiety, but no one listened to him.
The hatred between the Centaurs and the Acromantulas had accumulated for too long; a conflict was destined to erupt tonight.
Charlie stood to the side, his expression somewhat grim.
He had come to the Forbidden Forest for the Acromantulas' help in finding Peter Pettigrew, but he encountered this situation as soon as he arrived.
If the Centaurs and Acromantulas started fighting, no matter who won, they wouldn't be able to work for him.
Charlie sighed, thinking it was truly troublesome.
He slowly raised his right hand.
As he raised his right hand, a circular wall of fire rose from the ground, separating the Centaurs and the Acromantulas.
The flames were a full three meters high, burning fiercely and emitting scorching heat waves.
Charlie stood in front of the wall of fire, saying coldly,
"Everyone, step back."
Chapter 179 I'll Make You Fly If You're Going to Be Cool!
The Centaurs, led by Magorian, obediently retreated a few steps.
The wall of fire was too terrifying; three-meter-high flames churned in the night, and the heat waves assailed them, making their cheeks burn.
Magorian clutched the bow in his hand, looking at Charlie with a complex expression.
Just moments ago, he had only predicted the arrival of a Monarch from the constellations; now, witnessing such power firsthand, he truly understood what a Monarch was.
However, the Acromantulas showed no intention of retreating.
The largest spider among them, its two fangs opening and closing, let out a hoarse sound.
"Wizard, do you think a wall of fire can scare us?"
Its eight eyes glowed with an eerie green light, fixed intently on Charlie.
"We will not let anyone who invades our territory go..."
Before the Acromantula could finish speaking, its vision suddenly blurred.
Charlie vanished.
The next second, he appeared beside the leading Acromantula.
His right hand instantly transformed into a Dragon Claw, deep red scales covering his entire arm, and sharp talons glinted coldly in the moonlight.
Charlie didn't hesitate; the Dragon Claw smashed down fiercely.
Bang!
A tremendous impact echoed through the Forbidden Forest.
The hard shell of that Acromantula was as brittle as paper under the Dragon Claw.
The Black shell was torn to Diffindo, and fragments flew everywhere.
The spider let out a piercing shriek, its massive body slammed to the ground, its eight legs thrashing wildly, but it could no longer stand up.
Green blood flowed from the gaping wound, pooling on the ground.
Hagrid, standing nearby, looked a bit pained but did not stop Charlie; even he, with his thick skin, realized that these Acromantulas had become a menace to the Forbidden Forest.
Charlie stood beside it, spider blood still dripping from his Dragon Claw.
Seeing Charlie act directly, the other Acromantulas also charged forward aggressively.
Although their leader had been struck down, their numerical advantage made them unafraid of Charlie.
Charlie sneered, and Monarch's Might erupted from him.
The oppressive power belonging to a Monarch, carrying absolute suppression, enveloped the entire forest.
All the Acromantulas instantly felt a fear from the depths of their souls.
It was the instinctive submission of living creatures.
Their eight legs began to tremble, and their bodies involuntarily prostrated themselves on the ground.
Hagrid's eyes widened, utterly shocked.
Even he, a half-Giant, couldn't smash an Acromantula's shell with a single punch.
Dozens of Acromantulas all lay prostrate on the ground, not daring to move.
The Centaurs weren't faring much better.
Although they did not directly face Charlie, the oppressive power still made their hearts pound.
Firenze gripped the bow in his hand, his palms slick with sweat.
Magorian's face was pale; he now finally understood why the constellations had predicted Charlie to be a Monarch. Besides a Monarch, he couldn't imagine who else could possess such terrifying aura.
Charlie retracted his Dragon Claw, his right hand returning to human form, and spoke calmly to the Acromantula crowd.
"Now, take me to your leader."
Charlie's voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable authority.
The original leading Acromantula was now peacefully asleep, and another Acromantula stepped forward, its voice trembling.
"Yes... yes, as you wish, Lord Charlie."
It struggled to stand up, its eight legs still shaking.
Charlie turned to look at the Centaurs.
"You all follow too; I also have something I need your help with."
Magorian hesitated for a moment, as the Acromantula's lair was extremely dangerous, but ultimately led his people to follow.
The group, led by the Acromantulas, walked deeper into the Forbidden Forest.
The surrounding trees became denser, and the light grew dimmer.
Spiderwebs were everywhere on the ground, sticky threads glistening faintly in the moonlight.
After walking for about ten minutes, an open space appeared ahead.
In the center of the clearing was a small cave, its entrance covered by thick spiderwebs.
Charlie and the others followed the Acromantulas into the cave; the space inside the cave was quite vast.
Hagrid seemed to know his way around, likely having visited Aragog here many times.
The Centaurs, however, were very nervous, as countless Acromantulas, at least a hundred of them, were sprawled all around.
Seeing people approach, they all raised their heads, their eyes glowing green.
But upon seeing the Acromantulas leading the way, they all quieted down.
Deep inside the cave, a massive spider lay in the innermost part.
Its body was at least three times larger than the Acromantulas outside, and its Black shell was covered with the marks of time, some areas already faded.
Its eight eyes were covered with a grayish-white film, clearly indicating it was blind.
Seeing his old friend, Hagrid quickly walked forward, his voice filled with joy.
"Aragog! It's me, Hagrid!"
The Giant spider raised its head, its chelicerae slightly parted.
"Hagrid, my old friend."
Its voice was hoarse and slow, each syllable drawn out, carrying a sense of decrepitude.
"You've come to see me, that's good."
"However, I smell unfamiliar scents." Its voice deepened.
"And the scent of Centaurs, Hagrid, who have you brought to my territory?"
The leading Acromantula quickly stepped forward, making urgent clicking sounds, and communicated with Aragog.
After listening, Aragog fell silent.
The atmosphere in the cave gradually solidified.
The other Acromantulas also quieted down, with only the sound of spider legs scraping the ground.
Charlie stood in place, raising an eyebrow.
Alright, playing the silent cool guy, are we?
He didn't waste words and directly released Monarch's Might.
A terrifying pressure instantly enveloped the entire cave.
Those Acromantulas, which had been relatively quiet, instantly prostrated themselves on the ground, their bodies shaking like sieves.
This time, Aragog didn't play cool, nor was his voice slow; he could rattle off a menu in one breath.
"Lord Charlie! Please withdraw your divine power!"
"Whatever you ask, we will do it! Whatever you say, it is!"
Only then did Charlie withdraw Monarch's Might.
"My name is Charlie, and I am looking for a rat and a big black dog."
He pulled out two portraits from his Huai, one of Peter and one of Black.
"Have your descendants search the depths of the Forbidden Forest for this rat and this dog. Inform me immediately once they are found."
Aragog nodded repeatedly, his nimble movements making Hagrid think he had reverted to his youth.
"No problem, absolutely no problem. I will have them search right away."
Charlie put away the portraits and added another sentence.
"Also, from now on, I do not want to see Acromantulas and Centaurs fighting. You will each stay in your respective territories, minding your own business."
Magorian was stunned. The other Centaurs exchanged glances, their eyes flashing with disbelief.
They hadn't expected Charlie to remember this matter; when had Wizards ever cared about them, the Centaurs?
Magorian clutched the bow in his hand, his throat feeling tight.
"Lord Charlie... thank you."
Charlie waved his hand.
I absolutely cannot let them fight; if they do, won't my Black slaves be reduced in number?
Chapter 180 The King of Wizards?
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."
Chapter 181 Blake's Whereabouts
Charlie, led by Hagrid, walked towards the Centaur territory.
Charlie followed behind, pondering a question as he walked—male Centaurs don't wear clothes, but do female Centaurs?
This question lingered in his mind for quite a while.
Of course, whether they wore clothes or not was fine; he was mainly exploring the question from an academic perspective.
After walking for about twenty minutes, the surrounding trees gradually thinned out.
An open clearing appeared ahead, with several crude wooden huts scattered at its edge.
A bonfire burned in the center of the clearing, its light illuminating the busy Centaurs around it.
Charlie surveyed his surroundings.
The male Centaurs indeed wore no tops, revealing their muscular physiques.
As for the female Centaurs... Charlie glanced over, somewhat regretfully noticing that they all wore tops made of animal hide or coarse cloth.
Alas, what a pity.
A young Centaur recognized Charlie and immediately turned to run deeper into the camp. Not long after, Magorian emerged from a wooden hut, followed by Firenze.
"Lord Charlie," Magorian walked up to Charlie and bowed slightly.
"You've arrived."
Charlie nodded.
"Have you found any clues?"
Magorian's expression was somewhat complex.
"We have been searching the Forbidden Forest for days, but we haven't found any trace of that rat."
Charlie frowned.
"However," Magorian paused.
"That big black dog was spotted."
Charlie's eyes lit up. "Where?"
"Three days ago, we found it on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest," Firenze took over.
"It was lingering at the edge of the woods at the time, and we immediately gave chase."
"And then?"
"It ran into Hogwarts' territory," Magorian said.
"We were concerned that a rash intrusion would cause misunderstandings, so we didn't pursue it further."
Charlie stroked his chin, wondering why the Owls hadn't discovered Black if he had run into Hogwarts.
"After that, we continued to patrol outside the Forbidden Forest," Firenze added.
"But we didn't see that big black dog run back into the Forbidden Forest."
Charlie fell into contemplation, his fingers gently tapping his arm.
The Owls hadn't found Black, which meant he hadn't stayed at Hogwarts.
And he hadn't returned to the Forbidden Forest, so he could only have left the school from somewhere else.
The school gates were always guarded by Owls, so the only other place to leave Hogwarts... Charliethought of the secret passages.
Black had also attended Hogwarts, so it wasn't surprising that he knew about the secret passages in the school.
Charlie had seen seven secret passages to Hogsmeade on the marauder's map.
Five of them were already abandoned, leaving two: one behind the one-eyed Witch statue, leading to Honeydukes, and one under the Whomping Willow, whose exact destination was unknown.
The one-eyed Witch passage was inside the Castle; Black would have used a secret passage to escape, so he definitely wouldn't choose such a high-risk location.
The Castle was full of students and Professors, and he could be discovered at any moment.
So the most likely possibility was the secret passage under the Whomping Willow.
It was remote, and few people went there normally.
The Whomping Willow itself was a natural barrier; most people wouldn't dare to approach it.
"I probably know where he is," Charlie looked up at Magorian and Firenze.
"Thank you for the clue."
Magorian breathed a sigh of relief.
"Glad we could help you."
"Continue to keep an eye out for that rat for me," Charlie said.
"It's very likely still hiding in the Forbidden Forest."
"Understood," Firenze nodded.
"We will intensify our search efforts."
Charlie turned to look at Hagrid.
"Hagrid, I'll go ahead."
Then he instantly apparated near the Whomping Willow, leaving Hagrid, who hadn't yet reacted.
He scratched his head in confusion. What did Charlie know? Why didn't I know anything after hearing the Centaur's message?
Near the Whomping Willow, the tree was gently swaying in the wind, its spring willows a dazzling green.
Charlie's figure suddenly appeared beside the tree.
The Whomping Willow immediately sensed the intruder; its thick branches abruptly tensed, its crown shook violently, and countless willow branches lashed out like whips towards Charlie.
Charlie raised his hand and waved; a red light shot out, precisely hitting an inconspicuous small knot on the tree trunk.
The Whomping Willow instantly went limp, its branches hanging weakly to the ground by Charlie's doing.
Charlie approached the tree roots and found a dark, Black hole between the soil and dead leaves.
The hole wasn't large, but it was big enough for one person to squeeze through. He bent down and entered, a mix of earthy and musty smells assailing him.
The passage was narrow, barely allowing him to stand upright.
Charlie lit his wand, and the dim light illuminated the path ahead. The passage walls were a mix of earth and stones, clearly ancient, with some areas already starting to crumble.
Charlie walked about fifty meters forward, and the passage suddenly widened.
Then he saw a big black dog.
The dog was sitting in the center of the passage, its hind legs splayed, its head buried between its legs, diligently licking itself.
Hearing footsteps, the big black dog suddenly lifted its head.
Their eyes met, and the atmosphere was a little awkward.
Charlie looked at the scene before him speechlessly, unable to resist saying:
"Why are you licking your crotch again?"
The big black dog froze for a second, then raised its head and barked twice at Charlie with its tongue hanging out.
Its tail wagged rapidly, and its innocent appearance was exactly like that of an ordinary stray dog, trying to bluff its way through.
"Stop pretending, Sirius Black."
Charlie crossed his arms, his tone calm.
The big black dog's tail stopped wagging instantly.
It stared at Charlie for two seconds, then suddenly turned and ran deeper into the cave.
Charlie waved a finger.
The soil deep within the cave began to loosen, and countless plant roots emerged from the soil, growing wildly.
Roots of varying thickness intertwined, completely sealing off the passage in the blink of an eye.
The big black dog couldn't brake in time and directly hit the wall woven from roots, emitting a dull thud.
It retreated a few steps, turned around, and its eyes became serious.
Charlie stood still, the light from his wand illuminating his face.
The big black dog lowered its body, its four limbs slightly bent, adopting an attacking stance.
Its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and a low growl rumbled in its throat.
Black quickly calculated in his mind.
He remembered this boy; when he saw him in the Shrieking Shack, he felt a dangerous aura emanating from him.
But he was, after all, just a student.
And he was currently in his big black dog form, with sharp claws and teeth, giving him an absolute advantage in close-quarters combat.
Moreover, the narrow space inside the cave was perfect for a brawl.
The advantage is mine!
Thinking this, the big black dog suddenly pushed off the ground and pounced towards Charlie.
Its speed was fast, and its open mouth revealed sharp canine teeth.
Charlie sighed.
The next second, his right hand instantly transformed into a dragon's claw and struck the back of the big black dog's head.
The big black dog immediately rolled its eyes, its head tilted, and it completely fainted.
Chapter 182 Black's Loyalty
Charlie reluctantly withdrew his dragon claws.
He hadn't intended to fight; according to his guess, Black was very likely innocent.
He had originally wanted to ask amicably what had happened back then, but this guy insisted on running into his fist.
Charlie waved his wand, and the vines on the cave wall immediately came alive, tightly binding the unconscious big black dog.
Thick vines wrapped around its limbs and torso, leaving only its head exposed.
"Aguamenti."
A stream of water shot from the tip of his wand, splashing directly onto the big black dog's face.
The icy water jolted Black awake, and he let out a whimper from his throat.
He violently shook his head, trying to shake off the water on his face, but the vines tightened further, making it difficult for him to even struggle.
The sharp pain in his head made Black's vision go dark.
What just happened? Was I hit by a truck?
Charlie looked down at the trapped big black dog, his wand pointed at its head.
"I'm giving you a chance to turn back into a human," Charlie said calmly.
"Otherwise, you'll never be able to change back."
The big black dog's eyes were wide, and a low growl rumbled in its throat. It tried to struggle, but the vines didn't budge.
Charlie waited a few seconds. Seeing that he was still feigning ignorance, he nudged his wand forward.
"I'll count to three."
"One."
The big black dog's struggles became more violent.
"Two."
The vines suddenly tightened, making the big black dog let out a painful whimper, and his body began to twist and deform. The Black fur disappeared, his limbs elongated, and his bones made cracking sounds.
A few seconds later, no longer a dog was trapped in the vines, but a man.
He looked exactly like the photo on the wanted poster.
Gaunt, haggard, and filthy all over.
Black's hair hung messily over his face, his beard was scraggly, and his eyes were deeply sunken.
His prison uniform was tattered, emitting an unpleasant odor. His skin was frighteningly pale, clinging to his bones, with hardly any muscle visible.
The only thing that looked alive were his eyes.
His gray eyes flickered with wariness and madness, fixed on Charlie.
"Who are you?" Black's voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.
"How did you know I was here?"
"You're not in a position to ask me questions." Charlie withdrew his wand and leaned against the cave wall. "Now it's my turn to ask."
Black gritted his teeth, remaining silent.
"Thirteen years ago, the night the Potters were murdered." Charlie's tone was casual.
"What exactly happened?"
Black trembled slightly, saying nothing.
"Answer my question."
"Did you betray the Potters?"
"No!" Black almost roared.
"I didn't! I would never betray James!"
He struggled violently, the vines digging into his flesh, but he didn't care.
"It was Peter!" Black's eyes were bloodshot.
"It was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed them! He was the Secret-Keeper!"
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
As expected.
"Then why were you sent to Azkaban?"
"Because…" Black's voice choked. "Because I was too foolish."
He lowered his head, his shoulders beginning to tremble.
"James originally planned to choose me as the Secret-Keeper, but I thought it was too obvious, everyone knew I was James's best friend. So I suggested Peter, that cowardly little man, no one would suspect him."
Black looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.
"And the result was him… it was he who told the Dark Lord the location of James and Lily."
The cave was silent for a few seconds.
"Then what?" Charlie asked.
"Did you go looking for him?"
"I tracked him down." Black's voice turned cold.
"On a Muggle street. But that bastard, to resist me, he blew up the entire street, killing twelve Muggles."
He gave a bitter laugh.
"Everyone thought I did it. When the Ministry of Magic arrived, only I was still standing in the center of the ruins. They thought Peter was killed by me, and I thought so too."
"Then why didn't you explain?"
"Because everything was over." Black's eyes were hollow.
"James was dead, Lily was dead, Peter had escaped, and I… I became their murderer."
Charlie was quite perplexed. To take such a huge blame without explaining, are you Hogwarts's Scapegoat King?
"So you broke out of prison to find Peter?"
"Yes." Black suddenly looked up.
"I saw a newspaper in Azkaban, I saw a photo of the Weasley family. That damned rat was in the photo, perched on that red-haired boy's shoulder!"
His voice became frantic.
"Twelve years! He hid from me for twelve years, even openly coming to Hogwarts."
"I must kill him, kill him!"
Black spoke to himself as if in a trance, muttering like a madman. His life on the run had tormented him terribly.
Charlie listened quietly, already having a good idea of the situation.
Everything Black said matched his suspicions. The true betrayer was Peter Pettigrew; this much was almost certain.
After clarifying the truth, Charlie suddenly felt apathetic.
He had wanted to catch Black before, partly for the Orphanage's safety, and partly out of curiosity about what had happened back then.
Now that the truth was out and the Orphanage was no longer threatened, he only felt like he had entered a state of enlightenment.
As for their grievances and animosities, Charlie honestly didn't care much.
Black recovered for a while, his cracked lips moving: "What do you plan to do with me?"
There was a hint of pleading in his voice:
"I beg you, don't hand me over to the Ministry of Magic. Even if you must, please wait until I have my revenge first."
"Those idiots at the Ministry of Magic are out of the question." Charlie shook his head.
"I'll just hand you over to Dumbledore; it won't be my concern after that."
Black's face instantly turned pale, and he shook his head violently:
"No, no! Please, don't hand me over to Dumbledore!"
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"I don't have the face to see him." Black's voice trembled.
"I caused James and Lily's deaths, I suggested changing the Secret-Keeper. How can I possibly face Dumbledore?"
"That has nothing to do with me." Charlie shrugged.
"No matter how much you beg, it's useless."
Black gritted his teeth, a hint of madness flashing in his eyes:
"I have money! The House of Black's fortune!"
He spoke urgently:
"As long as you help me catch Peter, I'll give you all the property of the House of Black, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families!"
"And I will be eternally loyal to you, doing anything for you! As long as you help me catch that traitor!"
The cave was silent for a few seconds.
Charlie slowly raised his wand, and the vines instantly loosened, causing Black to fall directly to the ground.
"What are you saying, my dear subject?" Charlie walked forward and gently helped him up.
"Your affairs are my affairs; how could I abandon you?"
[Your Majesty has violated his principles for money, tyrant points +10]
Black was stunned.
This person is even more schizophrenic than I am.
How are the Fire Arrows in Chapter 183?
Charlie leaned against the cave wall and casually asked, "By the way, did you send Harry that firebolthe received for Christmas?"
Black froze for a moment, then nodded: "It was me."
"How did you buy it?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"A fugitive just went shopping in Diagon Alley?"
"I entrusted the Goblins at Gringotts to handle it. They don't care about wanted posters; they only care about money," Black whispered.
"The Black family has a vault at Gringotts, and I can still access some Galleons."
Charlie's heart skipped a beat.
Being able to casually buy a luxury item like the firebolt proved that the Black family was not destitute like the weasley family; they were truly one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, with deep roots.
"Alright, you hide here for now," Charlie patted Black's shoulder.
"Peter is gone, but he should still be within the confines of Hogwarts. I'll let you know if I hear anything."
Black suddenly grabbed Charlie's arm, his fingers trembling from the strength of his grip:
"You must notify me! I want to kill him with my own hands."
His eyes flickered with a crazed light; twelve years of hatred were practically overflowing from his sockets.
Considering the Black family's ancestral wealth, Charlie's tone was very sincere.
"Don't worry, the moment I have news of Peter, I'll come find you."
... Early the next morning, Charlie woke up two minutes before class.
He cast a Scouring Charm on himself, then Apparated outside the Potion Class classroom, taking a total of one minute.
If it weren't for needing to get dressed, it would have taken only ten seconds.
The surrounding students were already used to it, but they were still envious.
It must be amazing to just Apparate directly to where class is held!
After class, Charlie walked out of the classroom and saw Harry standing dejectedly in the corridor with Ron and Hermione.
"Snape is definitely doing this on purpose!" Ron fumed.
"He just wants Gryffindor to lose the match!"
Hermione, clutching a pile of books, frowned:
"Maybe the Professors just want to make sure the broom isn't dangerous. After all, Snape promised to check it thoroughly in front of all the Professors; he wouldn't cheat, would he?"
Charlie chuckled. "Oh, you sweet girl. Snape not cheating? Don't make your Professor Snape laugh."
If he wasn't cheating, then what was the meaning of the points Gryffindor had deducted, and the extra points Slytherin had gained?
"They've been checking it for almost a month!" Harry's voice was full of frustration.
"If they don't give it back soon, we'll have to use the school's old brooms for next week's match."
The match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw was imminent. Without the firebolt, even if Harrymanaged to win the game, it would be difficult to score enough points to surpass Hufflepuff.
So, when Snape emerged from the classroom, he gathered his courage and stopped him.
"Professor, how is the inspection of my broom going?"
Harry tried to keep his voice calm.
Snape slowly turned around, his greasy Black hair hanging beside his face, a sneering curve on his lips.
"Mr. Potter, it seems your concern for Quidditch far outweighs your concern for your brain."
The surrounding Slytherin students began to snicker.
"If you applied this energy to your studies, perhaps your Troll brain could absorb a little more knowledge," Snape continued, his voice full of malice.
"As for your broom, I will return it once I am certain it is completely safe. Unless you would prefer to plummet to your death during a Quidditch match?"
"Oh, perhaps you are confident you won't die, presumptuously believing that in addition to a Troll brain, you also possess the body of a Troll."
Harry clenched his fists. 'I was truly foolish. Why did I think of asking Snape?'
Snape gave a cold scoff.
"I will not act rashly merely to satisfy your vanity. Now, get out of my sight."
He turned and walked away, his Black robes billowing behind him like bat wings.
The surrounding Slytherin students burst into louder laughter, and Malfoy whistled.
Harry's face flushed crimson with anger, but he was powerless to argue, watching helplessly as Snapestrode away.
Hermione couldn't stand it anymore and nudged Harry's shoulder:
"Let's go find Professor McGonagall! She cares so much about House pride; she definitely won't let Snape drag this out."
Harry's eyes lit up. 'That's right!' Others might not know it, but as the team's Seeker, he knew perfectly well that Professor McGonagall cared more than anyone about whether Gryffindor could win the quidditch cup.
The three quickly found themselves standing outside Professor McGonagall's office door.
"Come in," Professor McGonagall's voice called from behind the door.
Harry pushed the door open. Before he could speak, Professor McGonagall put down her quill: "Mr. Potter, I presume you are here about the broom?"
"Yes, Professor," Harry took a deep breath.
"Professor Snape has been checking it for almost a month. He's deliberately stalling."
"The match is next week, and I really need that broom."
Professor McGonagall's expression grew serious. Of course, she knew how important the broom was to the match.
But she couldn't agree with Harry.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall stood up and walked over to Harry.
"Professor Snape is not deliberately stalling; he is simply being diligent in ensuring your safety. The origin of this broom is unknown, and a thorough inspection requires adequate time."
To salvage the Professor's image in the students' minds, the cat Professor worried herself sick.
Harry was stunned.
He suspected his ears were malfunctioning.
Or perhaps his Dean had eaten too many carbs that morning and was talking nonsense.
"Professor, but..." Harry tried to argue.
"There are no 'buts'," Professor McGonagall interrupted, her tone growing stern.
"Mr. Potter, are you unable to distinguish between priorities? Is one match more important, or is your life?"
Harry opened his mouth, unable to utter a single word.
"If the broom truly had a jinx placed upon it, what would happen if you rode it?" Professor McGonagallcontinued.
"Fall again? This time, Professor Dumbledore might not be there to save you!"
Harry lowered his head, not daring to argue further.
Seeing Harry's look of disbelief mixed with fear of talking back, Professor McGonagall sighed: "Alright, go back to your common room. I will urge Professor Snape to complete the inspection as quickly as possible."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said, turning to leave dejectedly.
Meanwhile, in the office, after Harry had gone, Professor McGonagall immediately grabbed the Wizardrobes off her desk and strode toward the dungeons.
Did she not know what Snape was planning? If it weren't for Harry's safety, Professor McGonagallwould never have given the broom to Snape.
Snape's office door was tightly closed.
Professor McGonagall knocked on the door, and without waiting for a reply, pushed it open and stepped inside.
"Severus, we need to talk."
Chapter 184 Seven Fire Arrows!
Entering Snape's office, Professor McGonagall got straight to the point: "Severus, how is the inspection of the firebolt coming along?"
Snape slowly stirred his cauldron without looking up: "Still inspecting it."
His tone remained gloomy when speaking to Professor McGonagall, but the mockery was gone.
"A month isn't enough time?" Professor McGonagall's tone was full of doubt.
"That broomstick may have been jinxed," Snape said, putting down his stirring rod.
"I must meticulously check every detail. This is all for Potter's safety."
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, deciding to use her trump card:
"Severus, as long as you complete the inspection within this week, next school year, I will approve a ten percent increase in the Potion office's materials budget compared to this year."
The liquid in the cauldron bubbled and gurgled.
Snape's stirring hand stopped.
A ten percent increase in the budget.
This meant he could purchase more rare materials and arrange his experimental plans with greater ease.
Snape's mind raced.
He hated Harry; there was no doubt about that. But he loved Potion more, and naturally wouldn't refuse more funding for Potion experiments.
Furthermore, even if he returned the firebolt to Harry, Gryffindor wasn't guaranteed to win the championship.
Because Snape knew very well that there was a certain outrageously wealthy scoundrel in the school who would absolutely not stand by and watch Harry take the quidditch cup.
Rather than sacrificing tangible benefits just to spite Harry, it was better to secure more funding for something meaningful.
Moreover, the thought of watching Harry hold the firebolt full of hope, only to lose the match in the end, was quite amusing.
"Since Professor McGonagall insists," Snape sighed hypocritically.
"For the sake of this budget, I suppose I'll work overtime."
A week quickly passed.
An hour before the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match, Harry finally met Professor McGonagall in the changing room.
"Mr. Potter, here is your broomstick," Professor McGonagall said, handing him the firebolt with a serious tone.
"Professor Snape has completed the inspection and found no jinxes."
The moment Harry took the broom, his whole being lit up. When he rushed onto the Pitch holding the firebolt, the Gryffindor stands erupted in thunderous cheers.
"Harry's broom is the firebolt!"
"We're definitely going to win!"
The Ravenclaw stands were silent. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, paled as she looked at the top-tier broom in Harry's hands, her heart already sinking.
Madam Hooch, the referee, blew her whistle, and the match began.
The firebolt's performance stunned the entire stadium. Harry streaked across the Pitch like a red bolt of lightning; Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho, couldn't even keep up with his slipstream.
She gritted her teeth and accelerated desperately, but a slight burst of speed from the firebolt left her far behind.
Harry even had time to help his teammates score goals.
Twenty minutes later, Gryffindor was already leading by seventy points.
Harry circled high above. Catching a flash of gold in his peripheral vision, he dove down without hesitation.
Cho saw it too, and chased desperately, but the firebolt's speed completely overwhelmed her.
Harry reached out and snatched the Golden Snitch, which settled firmly in his palm.
"Harry Potter catches the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor wins the match, leading Ravenclaw by 220 points!"
The Gryffindor stands exploded.
Teammates rushed up, hoisted Harry, and tossed him into the air. Wood was so emotional he was weeping, kissing the goalpost several times.
"We've overtaken Hufflepuff!" Ron yelled from the stands.
"First place in total points!"
Hermione flipped through her notebook:
"Gryffindor is now twenty points ahead of Hufflepuff, and both teams have one match left. If we rack up some more points in the next game, the quidditch cup is highly likely ours!"
Harry was surrounded by his teammates, but his gaze swept over the crowd and landed on the Ravenclaw stands.
Cho was gathering her broomstick, her long black hair fluttering in the wind. When she turned her head, Harry clearly saw her face.
Truly beautiful.
Cho noticed his gaze and frowned.
This person is so annoying.
It was bad enough that he crushed her in the match, but now he was still provoking her off the Pitch.
Cho hoisted her broomstick and left the Pitch with a cold expression.
Harry was momentarily stunned, unable to understand why she was angry.
Charlie sat in the stands, his eyes sweeping back and forth between Harry and the firebolt several times.
Something isn't right.
What's wrong with old Snape? If he wasn't going to confiscate it forever, he should have at least kept it from Harry for the rest of the term. Why did he return it so quickly?
With the firebolt, Harry was not only fast at catching the golden snitch but could also help other players score.
The previous match was a perfect example; leading by seventy points in twenty minutes—that scoring speed was terrifying.
No, he had to put some pressure on them.
Whenever others tried hard to catch up, Charlie always chose to deliver a crushing blow, grinding them into the dirt.
The next morning, while everyone was still basking in the glow of Gryffindor's great victory, the schedule for the next match was posted on the notice board in the Hogwarts Great Hall.
Hufflepuff versus Slytherin.
The Gryffindor students gathered in front of the notice board, discussing excitedly.
"Hufflepuff and Slytherin both use the nimbus 2001; they definitely won't pull ahead by too much."
"Exactly, they don't have the firebolt!"
Ron slapped Harry on the shoulder and laughed loudly: "Harry, we're guaranteed to win!"
Harry also smiled, already imagining the scene of lifting the quidditch cup.
Just then, he suddenly thought of Charlie, and a bad feeling rose in his heart.
Harry shook his head, trying to calm himself down.
What could Charlie possibly do? Hufflepuff's brooms were already very good; besides his firebolt, the nimbus 2001 was the best in the school.
Could Charlie possibly replace all their brooms with firebolts?
As soon as the thought occurred, Harry laughed at himself. The firebolt was so expensive; no matter how rich Charlie was, he couldn't possibly be that extravagant.
On the day of the match, the Quidditch Pitch was packed and buzzing with noise.
The match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was about to begin, and nearly all the students in the school were present.
In the Gryffindor stands, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together.
"I bet Hufflepuff wins," Ron said, munching on a pumpkin pasty.
"Cedric is much more reliable than Malfoy, but it would be best if their score remained neck-and-neck."
Harry didn't speak; he stared at the entrance to the Pitch, his palms slightly sweaty.
The Slytherin Team entered first.
Malfoy led the way, the entire team riding identical nimbus 2001s, their green robes gleaming in the sun. The Slytherin stands erupted in deafening cheers as Crabbe and Goyle waved gigantic banners.
Commentator Lee Jordan cleared his throat: "The Slytherin Team enters! They look extremely confident today, and Malfoy's expression tells us he already thinks he's won—"
The Slytherin Team circled once in the air and landed on one side of the Pitch.
Next, the Hufflepuff Team entered.
Cedric Diggory was the first to fly onto the Pitch.
Lee Jordan's voice suddenly caught.
As if someone had grabbed him by the throat.
The entire stadium fell into a deathly silence.
Then came a roar that shook the heavens!
"Merlin's beard!"
Lee Jordan's voice was distorted by extreme shock:
"What is that? That's a firebolt! Cedric Diggory is riding a firebolt!"
The crowd went wild.
Students leapt from their seats, craning their necks, desperately trying to see clearly.
"Another firebolt!"
"Hufflepuff, what are you doing! Are you trying to ruin the school's matches!"
Lee Jordan's voice grew higher and was nearing hysteria:
"Wait! There's a second one! A third one..."
"Oh my goodness! The entire Hufflepuff Team... they've all switched to firebolts!"
Seven firebolts cut through the air in perfect formation, the streamlined broom handles gleaming with a cold luster in the sunlight.
The Hufflepuff stands had gone insane; students were screaming, jumping, and hugging, and some were so excited they fell right off their seats.
The smile on Harry's face instantly froze. He stared in disbelief at the seven lightning-fast yellow figures on the Pitch.
His proud, unique advantage had become so cheap overnight.
The Gryffindor stands were dead silent. Wood's face was ashen, as if he vaguely saw the quidditch cupslipping away from him.
Hufflepuff Captain Cedric Diggory stopped in mid-air, his firebolt hovering steadily as if nailed in place. He turned toward a certain direction in the stands and gave a slight nod.
The gesture was extremely restrained, yet conveyed deep gratitude.
Countless eyes followed his line of sight.
Charlie was sitting at the top of the stands, resting his chin on one hand, a smile on his face.
The smile was faint, yet captivating.
Like a monarch, returning his general's salute with an approving smile.
[His Majesty spends lavishly, tyrant points + 500!]
Chapter 185 Avada Kedavra!
Hufflepuff crushed Slytherin with an overwhelming advantage, winning by a 300-point lead.
When the match ended, Draco was on the verge of tears, mumbling, "Mom, I never want to play Quidditch again."
Harry and Ron sat in the stands, both looking utterly drained.
"280 points," Hermione said softly, holding her notebook.
"We must achieve a lead of more than 280 points in our final match against Slytherin."
Ron opened his mouth but said nothing.
Harry looked down at the firebolt in his hand, suddenly feeling like the broom was too heavy to hold.
He was the Seeker; catching the Golden Snitch would only get them 150 points.
But the problem was, where would the remaining 130 points come from?
All the Gryffindor players besides him were riding old Cleansweep series brooms, while Slytherin's entire team had nimbus 2001s.
Scoring a 130-point lead? That was utterly ridiculous—a fool's errand.
And Charlie hadn't violated any rules; he was just rich and willing to sponsor Hufflepuff. No one could find fault with that.
Harry and Ron could only stare mournfully at Charlie.
The atmosphere at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall was so oppressive it felt like rain was coming.
Almost no one at the long table spoke during the meal; the sound of cutlery hitting the plates seemed jarring.
Only Hermione was simultaneously picking at her food and burying her head in a book. Her schedule was so packed she needed a Time-Turner just to attend all her classes.
Since the recent Quidditch match had wasted a lot of her time, she now had to work extra hard to catch up on the missed lessons.
"She really should be in Ravenclaw," a Gryffindor boy next to her muttered.
"Bookworm."
Hermione looked up and stared at him expressionlessly.
If this were before, she might have been upset all night because of that comment, but now, if it weren't for the school rules, she would definitely shove a wand down his throat.
Of course, she'd use his wand; she had a bit of a cleanliness complex.
The boy felt uneasy under her gaze and lowered his head to continue eating.
Hermione couldn't be bothered with people like that. She stood up, hugging a stack of textbooks.
The atmosphere at the Gryffindor long table was too terrible, and she didn't want to stay there.
She walked over and sat down next to Charlie.
Charlie glanced at the stack of textbooks in her arms and felt like he was starting to suffocate.
"Exactly how many classes do you take in a day?"
"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination Class, Muggle Studies Class..." Hermione counted on her fingers.
"I currently have to use the Time-Turner to run back and forth three or four times every day."
"Then why don't you drop a few? Like Divination Class, haven't you always thought Professor Trelawney was talking nonsense?"
Hermione looked conflicted.
"But I don't want to give up any class. What if I need the grades from this class for a job later?"
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Big sister, you're only in third year and you're already thinking about things so far ahead?"
"But wouldn't it be counterproductive if your overly full schedule leaves you no energy for more important subjects?"
There was one thing Charlie didn't say: if Hermione was too busy to write his homework, wouldn't he lose a top-tier assistant?
Hermione thought carefully for a moment. She did feel that what Professor Trelawney said was baseless and completely useless.
Moreover, Muggle Studies Class wasn't necessary for her. Who knew how old the textbooks for Muggle Studies were?
They actually claimed that Muggles relied on carriages for long-distance travel and that two Muggles were inside elevators pulling ropes.
"I must be crazy." Hermione shook her head.
"I actually thought those classes were meaningful."
"Go drop the classes with Professor McGonagall tomorrow," Charlie said.
"The Time-Turner is meant for you to learn more, not to torture yourself like this."
Hermione nodded. After making the decision, she felt the burden on her shoulders instantly lift.
That night, Charlie returned to his dormitory.
He leaned against the headboard and opened the system panel.
[Current tyrant points: 4399]
Charlie nodded in satisfaction at the number. The reason he always saved up for a big haul was that most of the Spells he knew were already at Level Four, and leveling up to Level Five required a full 5,000 proficiency points.
Drawing with fewer tyrant points felt like scratching an itch; it was better to save up for a huge draw, where he could feel the thrill of his power skyrocketing every time.
"little system, draw them all."
[Yes, Your Majesty! Beginning draw!]
Golden light exploded in his mind. System prompts rang out consecutively.
[Congratulations, Your Majesty! Stupefy proficiency +30]
[Expelliarmus proficiency +20]
[Shield Charm proficiency +30]
[Petrificus Totalus proficiency +90]
[Impedimenta proficiency +30]
[Incendio proficiency +70]
At that moment, a dazzling green light flashed before Charlie's eyes.
[Congratulations, Your Majesty, on acquiring: Avada Kedavra!]
[Free talent points: 1]
Charlie's eyes lit up.
The three Unforgivable Curses—he had finally collected them all.
Cruciatus Curse, Imperio, Avada Kedavra—these three strictly forbidden curses in the wizarding world were now all mastered by him.
The string of notifications made Charlie feel a massive amount of information flooding into his brain.
The key points of casting those Spells, the method of magical energy circulation, and the subtle wrist movements all became crystal clear.
He raised his hand and traced lines in the air.
He didn't need a wand; the trajectories of those curses were already etched into his instincts.
Furthermore, counting the four talent points he had previously accumulated, he now had five free talent points.
Charlie looked at the numbers on the panel, mentally calculating the allocation plan.
Potions was just one point away from maximum level, which was slightly annoying; it had to be maxed out.
Defense Against the Dark Arts, currently at Level Seven, also needed strengthening. To defend against the Dark Arts, you first had to know them, so the intensity of Dark Arts was actually linked to this talent.
Now that Charlie wielded the three Unforgivable Curses, this talent absolutely had to be maxed!
The last remaining point would go to Herbology.
[Yes, Your Majesty. Talent points allocated!]
Suddenly, Charlie could figure out better ways to handle certain techniques in Potion brewing.
Even before maxing out, the Potions Charlie brewed were already perfect enough.
But Charlie was certain that his current techniques would definitely speed up the Potion brewing process. This wasn't an idea born from experience, but a flash of inspiration brought by pure talent.
Following this, he had similar feelings regarding Dark Arts and Herbology.
Charlie took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
He opened the system panel and carefully checked the updated data.
[Your Majesty: Charlie White]
[Age: 13]
[magic Talent Rating: 10 (Max Level)]
[Transfiguration: 10]
[Charms: 10]
[Potions: 10]
[Defense Against the Dark Arts: 10]
[Herbology: 8]
[Astronomy: 4]
[History of Magic: 5]
[tyrant points: 99]
[Free talent points: 0]
[Mastered magic: Transfiguration (Level Four: 1570/5000), Incendio (Level Four: 2420/5000), Stupefy(Level Four: 2240/5000), Protego (Level Four: 2010/5000), Expecto Patronum (Level Four: 1010/5000), Sectumsempra (Level Four: 210/1000), Avada Kedavra (Level Three: 0/1000)...]
Charlie's mouth curled into a smile as he looked at the row of maxed-out numbers on the panel.
Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration—all four core subjects were maxed out.
His only current weakness was real combat experience. This might mean Charlie's Spell accuracy wasn't as high as it could be.
But for Charlie, saturation fire was enough.
If he knew roughly where the enemy was, he could just unleash dozens of barrel-thick SectumsempraSpells in that general direction. Could the opponent possibly survive that?