A light, cool drizzle fell from the oppressive, leaden clouds, washing away worries with each drop. For Hagrid, however, the rain was just another annoyance. The weeds, heavy with moisture, bowed under the press of countless footsteps on the muddy path leading into the Forbidden Forest.
"It's all Filch's fault!" Draco Malfoy declared, ever eager to assign blame. "He can't even clear the weeds! I'm writing to my father to have his pay docked!"
Hermione, trailing behind, shot him a look of utter disbelief. Quite aside from whether weed-clearing even fell under Filch's purview, expecting a Squib to tackle this overgrown wilderness was patently absurd. The grounds of Hogwarts were vast; even if Filch wielded a scythe from dawn till dusk, he'd barely make a dent. Moreover, the magical environment inevitably influenced the flora. Even if Filch somehow managed to clear the weeds, they'd be back in full force the very next day.
Harry, less bothered by the rainwater seeping into his shoes, had far more pressing concerns. "So," he began, glancing at the preening blond with a girl hanging off each arm, "what do you think Hagrid wants to see us about?"
Tom instinctively went to raise his left hand, only to be thwarted by Nagini. He tried his right, but Cassandra gently restrained him. With a sigh, he merely inclined his head. "Look, Hagrid's over there. Why don't you simply ask him yourself?"
"Hey! 'Arry! 'Arry!" Hagrid bellowed, waving a massive hand to catch their attention as he stood outside his hut. In the other hand, he clutched a grimy handkerchief, dabbing at the tears and mucus streaming down his face.
"Hagrid?" Hermione's eyes widened. "What's wrong?"
Luna, peering from behind Hermione, regarded the weeping giant with wide-eyed curiosity.
"Dead… dead… waaaaah…" Sobbing, Hagrid choked out the words.
Harry and Malfoy immediately panicked. "Who died? Grawp?"
Who else but his half-brother's tragic demise could reduce the big man to such a state?
"How? Was it murder? Who did it?" They pressed for details, their feigned concern so convincing that it only made Hagrid wail louder.
"Honestly, how could it be?" Hermione interjected, annoyed. "This is Hogwarts. Professor Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore are here, along with the other professors. Not even Voldemort could kill Grawp without anyone noticing."
Hermione knew all about Grawp; the Hogwarts students knew exactly what creatures roamed there after Gellert Grindelwald's tour of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry and Malfoy exchanged sheepish glances as Luna smirked knowingly. The two Death Eaters, who considered themselves paragons of elegance and power, felt their composure crack.
"Right, not Grawp. He's alive and well." Hagrid sniffed, leading them towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "It's Aragog. He was just too old, too weak to move. I found him dead in the forest not long ago."
"..."
Harry gaped, surprised not by Aragog's death, but because… who was Aragog?
Perhaps now isn't the moment to ask. After a moment's hesitation, Harry decided to pretend he knew this Aragog and attend its funeral first.
Malfoy, however, caught Harry's subtle expression immediately. Good friends know what the other is up to the moment he lets down his trousers, he thought.
"Aragog was an Acromantula, a giant spider," Malfoy whispered in Harry's ear. "The one I told you about ages ago."
"A dead Acromantula? That's great!" Harry blurted, before clapping a hand to his mouth as Hagrid turned to stare at him. "Ahem… I mean, what a… what a good spider. It's such a shame it died."
"It's alright, 'Arry," Hagrid said, mistaking Harry's discomfort for grief. "Come on, I'll take you to see him one last time."
...
As they walked with Hagrid, the group made small talk.
But when they arrived, everyone stopped dead in their tracks.
"Right there… wait, what?" Hagrid stared at a small hill in the distance, where the familiar sight of Severus Snape and the portly Horace Slughorn were bent over something familiar.
His Aragog, who was already cold, or perhaps not completely dead yet.
"Professor Snape, Professor Slughorn, what are you doing to Aragog's corpse?"
As they drew closer, they saw Snape calmly pocketing a vial filled with viscous fluid. Slughorn, looking decidedly guilty, gestured towards the giant spider lying on the ground. "Is this yours, Hagrid?"
No wonder I found such a huge spider while out for a stroll, he thought. He and Snape had already done all sorts of things to this spider corpse after saying "Thank you, Merlin," and now you're telling me it's my colleague's pet…
Fortunately, Hagrid didn't dwell on it too much, only offering a wry smile. "It's alright. Knowing that even in death he can still be of use, Aragog would be happy."
Hearing this, the two men tightened their grips on the vials. After thanking Hagrid, they stood aside as Hagrid gave the giant spider a very simple funeral.
Tom Riddle watched as Hagrid buried the spider in the hole he had dug. That creature had once been the undisputed ruler of the Forbidden Forest; its death was rather hasty, but this problem will never fall on my shoulders.
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