Vader may have forgotten, but that had not been his first encounter with Pathe the Hutt. However, that assumed that Vader was also Anakin Skywalker, and he had done his best to forget and supress many of the memories of those days. So, he could be forgiven for forgetting some of those odd encounters in the temple library. Of the odd friendship between Madam (Grandmother) Jocasta and that oddly smiling and laughing Hutt. Granted, at least part of that was because the rumors that they were part of an underground tag-team wrestling league that took on Rancors had always been inane and insane.
So it was, that has he stewed in humiliation, he remembered...
Frankly, the library was something that intimidated him as much as it frustrated him. His new master told him that it had the knowledge of thousands of years and millions of worlds inside of it and that he didn't even have to ask to visit it! Because as it turned out, he couldn't read any of it. He wanted to cry, but that would waste water, would show his master just how much having this hope snatched away hurt. But, he needed to learn, to become better.
Master Jinn said he was a 'chosen one' or something like that, and the council of masters seemed to think it was true, so he needed to be the best possible Jedi or they would discard him. If he wasn't useful. If he couldn't be their chosen one, whatever that was. Would it mean he would have to fight Sith, like the one that killed master Jinn? He was scared, he needed to get better, to be better. So, he was surprised, when the voice, calm but friendly, came from behind him.
"Ah, little one, what troubles you?" He turned, and inwardly? He sighed with resignation. Of course. Of course a place with masters would have a hutt. Why did he actually expect to have gotten away, to actually have been freed instead of just sold on? So, he plastered on his mask and opened his mouth, as the strangely muscular hutt rose a hand... and spoke once more in basic, and there was a sense of something, of something almost like home, of the desert. And then, impossible words slip from the Hutts lips.
"Ek masa nu Pathe, ek as me bora." Words that no master, no Hutt should know, even as fear grips him, as ice wraps around his spine, as he wonders if he has anything at all? And then the thing waves. "But, while your secrets are your own little one, it seems to me that you should meet with the Grandmother of these archives." Shocked, bewildered and wonder what was going on, he was led to the grandmother, to Joscasta Nu... who promptly stuffed him full of a biscuit and showed him to primers and dictionaries.
But of Pathe the Hutt, he would find little, save that he was a private individual who loved knowledge for its own sake and freely shared much of what he knew. All in all, he was an odd one, but one who slipped his mind as life unfolded.