After the discussion with Snape ended, Anthony planned to visit Hagrid.
The sky was black as ink. Deep purple clouds churned. Halfway there, bean-sized raindrops suddenly fell. Wind howled. Anthony squinted, struggled to discern direction, lowered his head, ran toward Hagrid's hut. Couldn't tell whether the splashing water in his ears was rain hitting him or splashes from his feet.
He ran in one breath to the hut's eaves before having energy to sort himself out.
Hair soaked through. Clothes too. Wind whistled. Hagrid's windows rattled. He noticed the windows were dark. Hagrid very likely wasn't home. But he still knocked.
No one answered. But possibly the knocking was drowned by wind and rain. So he knocked harder on the wooden door. "Hagrid, you there?"
An excited bark answered him. But not from inside. Anthony circled the house. Saw Fang lying happily in the rain. Tail splashing mud everywhere.
The moment he peeked, the big dog tried to pounce greet him. Just made the chain rattle loudly. Rain washed down its fur. Under flickering light, brownish-black water trickled down the tangled strands by its belly.
Anthony stepped back half a step. "Hello, Fang."
Fang barked loudly, wagged its tail at him. Delighted. Its fur all plastered to its body. Looked somewhat comical. Anthony walked forward again. Hesitated whether he could use cleaning charms on living things.
"You know where Hagrid is?" He crouched, asked Fang. Fang yanked forward hard. Two huge front paws successfully landed on his knees. Anthony hugged its neck, futilely tried stopping it from getting drool and mud on his face.
"Hey, Fang!" A thunderous voice sounded. Then a large hand pulled Anthony up. "How'd you get back, Henry?"
"Thanks, Hagrid," Anthony said awkwardly, wiped his face with his sleeve. "Had an appointment. But today's business is finished. Thought I could say hello—maybe not a good idea."
"What? Of course it's a good idea!" Hagrid said enthusiastically. Looked like he'd completely recovered from Norbert being sent away.
Only then did Anthony see his outfit clearly: cloak, breeches and leather boots, topped with a barely-there felt wide-brimmed hat. Rain still flowed down his shaggy large head.
"Where were you?" Anthony asked curiously, examined Hagrid's complete rainy-day outfit.
"Forbidden Forest," Hagrid answered in a muffled voice, kneed Fang. "Just saw it looked like rain. Had to reinforce fences and shelters... Professor Kettleburn wouldn't like those little ones getting rained on. A Hippogriff was unhappy a few days ago. Kicked and broke five or six boards..."
He fumbled for keys in his pocket. Didn't forget to turn back, tell Anthony about his day. "This morning I made Fang brush its teeth. But if I let it eat rabbit tonight, it'll have bad breath again. This problem's getting worse.
"So I thought tonight just eat chicken. Professor Sprout planted rosemary by her vegetable garden. She lets me pick a few sprigs when needed..."
He patted the pouch at his waist. Finally fished out the keys.
"Then I checked the broom shed for any damp brooms... I remember once I forgot. Next year when students came back, that Chaser's bottom touched the broom—immediately yelled loudly. 'Why am I sitting on mushrooms!' Ha, poor fellow!" Hagrid laughed, pushed open the door. Obviously found it amusing.
He lit the lamp, simply started the fireplace, boiled water preparing tea.
"Eat dinner at my place, Henry?" he asked hopefully. "I know it's only four o'clock. But I need to return to the forest later. I want to check Aragog's nest... You know, they live in a hollow. Every heavy rain I worry about his knees and ankles..."
Anthony didn't know if Acromantulas had knees and ankles. So he just said: "Sure. Four o'clock dinner sounds good."
Hagrid's cooking was as always. After losing the Fire-Crab, he was more flustered controlling heat and such.
Anthony's main food was several rock cakes. Because he politely declined the stoat sandwich Hagrid handed him. He discovered if you soaked rock cakes softer in sauce, they actually tasted decent. The hot tea at hand seemed so wonderful on a windy rainy day.
"By the way, Hagrid, I wanted to ask you something," Anthony said, swallowed another bite of rock cake. "Do you know where to get unicorn tail hairs?"
"I have quite a few. But Norbert burned them before," Hagrid scratched his head, said unconcernedly. "If you need them, I'll give you some next time I find them. Those unicorns run around the forest. Often catch their tails on branches."
He'd already finished his sandwich and stew. Was eating rock cakes as snacks. Rock cakes sounded extremely crispy in his mouth. Like wafer cookies.
Anthony hadn't expected it so simple. He'd thought Snape's condition would be somewhat difficult. "Really? Wonderful. Thank you."
"Of course. You've helped me so much," Hagrid said happily. "They're pretty good bandages. You can usually go get more in the Forbidden Forest, Henry."
"I'm worried the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest don't welcome me much," Anthony said, finished the last bit of rock cake. "The carrots were excellent, Hagrid. The chicken too."
Hagrid insisted Anthony go to the Forbidden Forest with him. "We can visit Aragog together. He'll be happy to see us." He banged open the window, stuck his head out to look. "Not raining anymore, Henry. Maybe today we can find unicorn tail hairs. Just look around where they live."
So Anthony entered the Forbidden Forest levitating a crate of chicken and bread. He felt that crate was a bit like the one that held dead rats for Norbert.
Hagrid led Fang ahead, lamp in hand, skillfully pushed aside wet branches. Didn't forget to remind Anthony to watch for mud pits covered by fallen leaves.
Dense trees shredded the outside wind into countless breezes. Water drops occasionally slid from leaves, landed on Anthony's neck. The chicken got wet. Gleamed pink in Hagrid's swinging lamplight. He worried the bread would get soaked too. So temporarily transfigured a lid.
Like Hagrid said, the Acromantula nest had become a large muddy area. Wind howled here again. Many webs had broken. Hung limply in mud. Some no longer showed their original white color.
"Aragog! Aragog!" Hagrid shouted. "Come out!"
"I'm here, Hagrid," a large spider, black with gray, walked from the dome-shaped web. Clicked. Many Acromantulas busied beside it. Anthony watched a while before realizing they were spinning silk repairing webs.
Hagrid carried the chicken crate before Aragog. "I brought you food."
"What is it?" Aragog asked, crouched down.
A young Acromantula had already gripped the crate. It lifted the lid. Looked with eight eyes on its ugly head. Told Aragog: "Chicken."
"Chicken!" Another Acromantula said dissatisfied. Fiddled with its pincers. Clicked.
"All right. Chicken," Aragog said. "Thank you, Hagrid."
"And bread. Oh right, I have something else for you." Hagrid reached into his waist pouch—Anthony took the lamp—then pulled out something knitted from yellow and red yarn. "Weather's too damp. Wind's strong. I made you a set of socks."
The young spider's pincers moved rapidly. Clicked. Seemed to want to comment. But Aragog was already talking to Hagrid.
"You know I like dark damp environments, Hagrid," Anthony heard a bit of weariness in its tone. But it still said patiently: "But thank you anyway."
Hagrid delivered the yarn creation to its pincers. Said somewhat sadly: "You don't have to wear them."
"I will. When I'm cold," Aragog said.
"Wonderful. I specially made them thicker," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Good to see you. Hope you like this chicken and bread. I think you're thinner than last time."
Aragog raised its voice. Waved its pincers forcefully. "I am very strong!"
As if to prove it, it suddenly stood up. Immediately much taller than other spiders. Milky-white eyes pointed fiercely at the sky. Huge pincers cut through the air with a whoosh. Anthony didn't know how Hagrid could tell spider fat from thin. But he'd say Aragog looked as big as last meeting. Maybe bigger.
"Aragog cannot become strong eating chicken," a young Acromantula clicked. Long legs swayed beside Anthony. "Aragog should eat humans."
Hagrid sounded shocked. "Don't eat people, Aragog!"
"Quiet!" Aragog scolded its descendant. "I won't eat people, Hagrid. I promised you... Next time bring venison. Venison's not bad."
"Okay. Venison next time," Hagrid said. "Sorry. I just remembered you used to like chicken. When I raised you on breadcrumbs."
"I was a small spider then, Hagrid," Aragog said. Slowly crouched again. "That was long ago." Click.
Anthony held the lamp standing. Silently observed the crawling Acromantulas. He didn't find the one with one white ring and two red rings on its leg.
"Aragog, where's your ninety-seventh grandchild?" he finally interjected.
Aragog seemed to immediately know which spider he meant. It said: "He was injured, Hagrid's friend."
Hagrid asked for Anthony: "What? Why?"
"They wanted to go to the Centaurs' area. But he stopped them," Aragog said simply. Pincers gestured toward the surroundings when saying "they." Anthony guessed this meant some young Acromantulas nearby.
"He shouldn't have stopped us! The Centaurs are getting too much!" a spider said angrily. "They keep expanding their hunting range. Someday they'll claim the whole forest belongs to them!"
"No. They cannot do that," Aragog said slowly. "This forest belongs to Hagrid."
"The Forbidden Forest belongs to Hogwarts. To all creatures living in it," Hagrid corrected. "No matter what the Centaurs say, unless Dumbledore permits, they absolutely cannot drive you from the forest. And Dumbledore won't agree to such a thing. I know."
"I want to see it," Anthony told Hagrid. Worried the only spider that showed him kindness was too badly hurt.
So Hagrid asked Aragog to show them the way. Took three chicken legs and two pieces of bread from the crate. "Eat chicken when sick to get better fast! That's what my dad said."
The ninety-seventh grandchild looked somewhat surprised to see Aragog. When Anthony and Hagrid came before it with chicken and bread, it was simply confused.
"I heard you were injured," Anthony explained. Careful not to touch the dense webs beside him. Some unfixed silk floated before his eyes. Some seemed already stuck to his robes.
This was his first time entering an Acromantula nest. The dome-shaped nest supported purely by silk and branches had very large interior space. Passages high enough for Hagrid to walk through. The smell of damp earth seeped through web gaps. Anthony felt it was even colder inside than outside.
The ninety-seventh grandchild lay on the damp ground. Black, fuzzy long legs curled under its belly. Cautiously took Hagrid's gift with pincers. Placed it before its eyes.
It examined the limp, wet meat chunks with its eyes in turn. Only then did Anthony discover one eye seemed blinded. Black liquid faintly glowing dark green flowed from it. Part congealed on its head.
"This is chicken," it finally said. "I don't like eating chicken."
"Eat a bite," Aragog commanded.
The ninety-seventh grandchild obediently ate. Eight legs curled tighter. Anthony guessed it probably really didn't like chicken.
"You are an Acromantula that accepted human food," Aragog said. Then it fiddled with its pincers. Clicked. Stood a while. Slowly walked away.
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