Chapter 157: Rat Scabbers
Night fell, and the lights came on.
Hogwarts’s Christmas banquet this year was even grander than in previous years, with flickering candlelight, bright torches, and the sparkling ornaments on the fir trees illuminating the entire Great Hall. The air was filled with the sweet scent of candy and cream.
Christmas crackers boomed, and the students’ laughter echoed around.
Platters were set on the long tables. As the Headmaster’s voice announced the start of the banquet, prepared food appeared out of thin air: golden roasted turkey, baked beans mixed with butter, perfectly seared steak, and rich stewed soup. The tantalizing aroma made saliva flow endlessly.
The oak stoppers of wine bottles popped open with a crisp sound.
Hagrid sniffed the aroma of eggnog, couldn’t help but smile, poured himself a full glass. Quitting alcohol was one thing, but today was Christmas— he could quit tomorrow.
“Merry Christmas! Cheers!”
“Merry Christmas.”
Several colleagues nearby also had smiles in their eyes.
Professor McGonagall was initially a bit reserved, but after a few glasses of eggnog, her cheeks flushed with a tipsy glow, and she giggled at Professor Flitwick’s jokes.
At this moment, Dumbledore was wearing a formal robe that should have accentuated the Headmaster’s dignity, but the lady wizard hat adorned with flowers on his head detracted from its elegance. The odd mismatch somehow suited his temperament perfectly.
Melvin was dressed in a crisp black suit with a white silk shirt, a green handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket, and unexpectedly wearing a fedora—not on his head, but placed on the table in front of him.
If someone had sharp enough eyes, they could see the brim of the hat trembling slightly, as if something inside was moving.
“Lockhart can’t teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, so I have to ask you to cover again. Same arrangement as before—what do you think?” Dumbledore chewed slowly on a piece of beef rib.
“Do substitute teachers get salary?”
Melvin said this with perfect righteousness.
He substituted every year. For others, it was just the Dean contributing a bit more, but he only got paid as an Elective Professor.
“Mmm, I can’t decide that. You can apply to Minerva.”
Dumbledore was equally righteous, without a hint of guilt. But considering it was a reasonable staff request, he pulled a box from his pocket, placed it on the table, and handed it over.
“What’s this?”
Melvin glanced at the box—wooden, not finely crafted, like something made casually with Transfiguration: “Didn’t you already give the Christmas gift?”
Dumbledore smiled softly and said, “Open it and see.”
Melvin glanced at the Headmaster, wiped his hands with a napkin, and opened the wooden box.
No intricate mechanisms or magical effects—just cushioned sponge, and on it, two green gems. One was pigeon-egg sized, the other only grain-sized. Polished to a crystal-clear shine, but on closer inspection, they had fine, intricate patterns.
“Look closely.” Dumbledore said.
Melvin leaned in to examine them, touched the gems with his fingers—they were lighter than expected, with a small hole on the side, emanating a familiar magic power fluctuation.
“Undetectable Extension Charm?” Melvin looked up and asked.
“The gems are from my own collection. I commissioned Newt Scamander to modify them. He calls these two gems snake’s dens. The space inside is spacious enough for snakes to live in, with open holes so they can hear outside sounds and come and go freely.
“The larger one is for containing the Basilisk, hidden in the Chamber of Secrets. The smaller one is for Yurm—you can embed it in your ring.”
Dumbledore wiggled his ring finger, gesturing to his ring.
As if hearing its name, the fedora trembled slightly twice, and a small white head poked out, tongue flicking.
“I’m almost touched.”
This Headmaster was truly thoughtful.
Melvin sighed, closed the wooden box, and tucked the two gems into his inner pocket.
This suit had no side pockets, only a shallow one at the chest for a handkerchief—too small for a young snake, so today he carried the hat as Yurm’s temporary snake’s den.
With this gem, things would be easier in the future, and his pocket could be freed up.
……
Hermione sat at the Gryffindor long table, spooning and tasting strawberry cream cake.
The sweet flavor filled her mouth, and she squinted her eyes in satisfaction.
First the strawberries on top, then slowly the cream, and finally the soft cake—the little witch had her own process for eating cake. Just as she swallowed the last bite, two figures sat beside her: blue and copper ties—Ravenclaw’s Cho Chang and Marietta.
“Hermione…”
Marietta set down a piece of blueberry cake: “Each House’s cake has a different flavor. Try this one!”
“Mmm…”
Hermione took the cake, a bit troubled—her stomach was already full.
Fortunately, they didn’t watch her eat but chatted about the banquet: different flavored foods at each House table, gifts from Christmas crackers, the riddle Professor Levent left at the lounge door, holiday homework assigned by professors…
Chattering away, the area around their seats immediately became lively.
Girls were like that—once friends, they always had endless topics.
In the nearby group of boys, Ron watched Neville pull a Christmas cracker—boom, blue smoke dispersed, revealing a navy hat and a few white mice. The white mice scurried everywhere, drawing Mrs. Norris in pursuit.
Ron frowned, his face worried: “Harry, Scabbers will be okay, right?”
“…”
Harry was gesturing at the turkey with a fork, hesitating how to carve it. His peripheral vision caught Cho Chang, and he gradually became entranced, head slightly raised, gazing at her dreamily with a silly grin.
Ginny didn’t even look up, viciously tearing into a roasted chicken leg, looking even fiercer than her brother.
Behind the turkey was the Christmas pudding. Someone found a silver coin in theirs, unbothered even when it chipped a tooth, laughing and showing it off.
The banquet continued until late at night. By the end, everyone was full and playing around. Dumbledore led them in singing a few of his favorite Christmas carols, then reluctantly announced the end.
……
“Professor Levent, we have something very important.” Ron said seriously.
Melvin was carrying the fedora as he left the Great Hall, blocked by the second-year trio. Neither Harry nor Hermione led; his two tutoring students stood to the sides, a step behind, with Ron in front.
Melvin was about to return to his office to handle snake’s den matters and looked puzzled.
The Basilisk issue was resolved early, Lockhart was in the hospital now—what else did they want? Brew Polyjuice Potion?
“Professor, we want to go back to the Chamber of Secrets. We need your help.”
“Give me a good reason.”
“Scabbers is missing!” Ron said anxiously. “Scabbers is a rat, my pet. It’s been with me for years—I take it everywhere…”
Hermione thought he was rambling and explained: “Ron noticed it missing after waking up. We thought it was in the Hospital Wing at first, but Madam Pomfrey said there couldn’t be a rat in the ward. I suspect it fell below the Chamber of Secrets.”
Rat Scabbers, the Animagus form of little dwarf star Peter.
Melvin paused, remembering the rat. Scabbers should have stayed until next year, until a black dog showed up. Why was it missing now? No one should have discovered his identity yet. Was it his butterfly effect?
“How could that be?” Melvin frowned.
“Yeah, how could that be!”
The professor’s reassurance eased Ron a bit. “There are candies from Seamus and others in the ward. Even if Scabbers left starving to forage, it wouldn’t go far. It’s been with our family for ten years—it wouldn’t leave us. It shouldn’t be unfindable!”
“So you suspect it fell into the Chamber of Secrets?” Melvin raised an eyebrow.
“Mm!”
The three nodded vigorously.
“You know this violates school rules. But it’s holiday now, considering your sincere feelings…” Melvin drew out his tone, eyes scanning theirs. “Just this once—no matter the result, no more Chamber of Secrets.”
This wasn’t about indulging kids. The main purpose for returning was to place the emerald snake’s den and use Harry’s Parseltongue to make the Basilisk dormant again.
As for rat Scabbers, he sincerely hoped to find it—he had something that needed Peter’s help.
“Long live the professor!” Harry and Ron cheered.
Hermione couldn’t help but smile too.
They went upstairs to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, to the copper faucet. Without Melvin prompting, Harry stepped forward and spoke in Parseltongue.
“Hiss hiss…”
The three were drawn to the spinning pool, not noticing the fedora in Melvin’s hand—a young snake head poked out. Yurm secretly eyed Harry, staring at his mouth, its beady eyes full of curiosity.
Melvin’s heart stirred slightly; he stroked its head, unsure if it understood.
With experience from last time, Harry and Ron were familiar with it, exchanged a glance, and jumped into the pipe, somewhat eager.
Only Hermione lagged behind—the sewage in the pipe was too dirty. Her clothes from last time took several washes, but still smelled. She turned to Professor Levent, eyes expectant.
Melvin smiled, tapped her shoulder—a transparent bubble film covered her.
Then the two entered the pipe unhurriedly.
Harry and Ron landed first. The underground tunnel was familiar: first a spacious stone chamber, floor covered in small animal bones, weathered and decayed, crumbling to dust at a touch.
No time to worry about dirty clothes—Harry raised his wand, cast Lumos. Ron cautiously scanned around for rat Scabbers.
Their moods were complex: worried about not finding Scabbers, yet also about finding its bones here.
When Melvin and Hermione slid out, their clothes spotless without sewage stains, Harry’s mood grew even more complex.
The group proceeded along the tunnel.
Unlike Harry and Ron, who only wanted to find the rat, Hermione paid more attention to the professor beside her, eyes sparkling faintly as she asked softly:
“Professor, how does the school plan to handle the Chamber of Secrets?”
“Reroute the entrance, hide it.”
“What about the Basilisk?”
“Put it back to sleep—indefinite sleep.”
“…”
This handling surprised Hermione. She thought Dumbledore wouldn’t let such a dangerous Basilisk stay, would kill or relocate it—not just sleep.
This elusive approach felt more like Professor Levent’s style.
Recalling the hints and clues from the past months, Hermione’s doubts deepened, but no answers. She continued observing the professor closely.
The four soon reached the Chamber door. Harry hissed to open the stone door and peered inside.
Greenish cloudy vapor floated slowly; dim green light revealed the scene—stone pillars on the ground repaired, Slytherin statue still standing deep inside, floor flat and empty.
Ron rushed in to search around; Harry followed.
“Would Scabbers hide here?”
“Doesn’t seem to see it.”
“It wasn’t eaten by the Basilisk, was it!” Ron’s voice was extremely sad.
“Only the Basilisk knows. Harry speaks Parseltongue—have him ask.” Hermione looked at the professor, tilting her head. “Can we?”
“I’ll cast a spell to block the Basilisk’s gaze.”
Melvin nodded, wandering among the stone pillars, searching for traces of rat Scabbers.
Hermione’s eyes flickered. She’d researched Basilisk materials—all books said its gaze was deadly. Last time so many students looked directly and were fine—there must be another reason, and that was the professor!
Over there, Harry was already summoning the Basilisk. Hermione wanted to observe the professor closely, but her gaze was drawn to it.
It was a fifty-foot giant snake, crawling from a deep stone cave to face them, bright yellow eyes like lanterns, deep green scales gleaming as if oiled.
It bared long, sharp fangs; a faintly sweet stench in the breeze. Just inhaling made one’s head dizzy.
Harry drew a sharp breath, then held it, feeling a subtle eeriness. Not long ago they’d faced it with death in mind; now back for a rat.
The dangerous Basilisk could actually communicate.
Why hadn’t he thought of that then?
As Harry prepared to speak, he felt his sleeve tugged.
It was Hermione, giving him a look: at the Basilisk, then the professor behind, indicating a connection.
Harry’s heart jumped; he quickly understood and pondered before speaking:
“Hiss hiss…”
「Are you really the one left by Slytherin?」
「Yes, Slytherin… my master.」
「Then now, do you obey Professor Levent’s commands?」
「Hiss hiss…」
Hm?
Harry thought he misunderstood, asked again, but the Basilisk’s reply was still meaningless hissing. Harry realized: the Basilisk didn’t know who Professor Levent was?
「The one over there—was it him who ordered you to attack us last time?」
「No… annoying students, woke me, attacked me…」
Harry scratched his head. Last time they did strike first. He rephrased: 「Before we entered the Chamber of Secrets, he’d already been here, right?」
The Basilisk flicked its tongue: 「Yes…」
