Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Hagrid, looking up, alarmed. ‘Yeh shouldn’ be outta the castle in the evenin’, I know it, it’s my fault –’
    ‘No, no, when he heard what I was doing he said he’d like to come and pay his last respects to Aragog too,’ said Harry. ‘He’s gone to change into something more suitable, I think … and he said he’d bring some bottles so we can drink to Aragog’s memory …’
    ‘Did he?’ said Hagrid, looking both astonished and touched. ‘Tha’s – tha’s righ’ nice of him, tha’ is, an’ not turnin’ you in, either. I’ve never really had a lot ter do with Horace Slughorn before … comin’ ter see old Aragog off, though, eh? Well … he’d’ve liked that, Aragog would …’
    Harry thought privately that what Aragog would have liked most about Slughorn was the ample amount of edible flesh he provided, but he merely moved to the rear window of Hagrid’s hut where he saw the rather horrible sight of the enormous dead spider lying on its back outside, its legs curled and tangled.
    ‘Are we going to bury him here, Hagrid, in your garden?’
    ‘Jus’ beyond the pumpkin patch, I thought,’ said Hagrid in a choked voice. ‘I’ve already dug the – you know – grave. Jus’ thought we’d say a few nice things over him – happy memories, yeh know –’
    His voice quivered and broke. There was a knock on the door and he turned to answer it, blowing his nose on his great spotted handkerchief as he did so. Slughorn hurried over the threshold, several bottles in his arms, and wearing a sombre black cravat.
    ‘Hagrid,’ he said, in a deep, grave voice. ‘So very sorry to hear of your loss.’
    ‘Tha’s very nice of yeh,’ said Hagrid. ‘Thanks a lot. An’ thanks fer not givin’ Harry detention, neither …’
    ‘Wouldn’t have dreamed of it,’ said Slughorn. ‘Sad night, sad night … where is the poor creature?’
    ‘Out here,’ said Hagrid in a shaky voice. ‘Shall we – shall we do it, then?’
    The three of them stepped out into the back garden. The moon was glistening palely through the trees and its rays mingled with the light spilling from Hagrid’s window to illuminate Aragog’s body lying on the edge of a massive pit, beside a ten-foot-high mound of freshly dug earth.
    ‘Magnificent,’ said Slughorn, approaching the spider’s head, where eight milky eyes stared blankly at the sky and two huge, curved pincers shone, motionless, in the moonlight. Harry thought he heard the tinkle of bottles as Slughorn bent over the pincers, apparently examining the enormous hairy head.
    ‘It’s not ev’ryone appreciates how beau’iful they are,’ said Hagrid to Slughorn’s back, tears leaking from the corners of his crinkled eyes. ‘I didn’ know yeh were int’rested in creatures like Aragog, Horace.’
    ‘Interested? My dear Hagrid, I revere them,’ said Slughorn, stepping back from the body. Harry saw the glint of a bottle disappear beneath his cloak, though Hagrid, mopping his eyes once more, noticed nothing. ‘Now … shall we proceed to the burial?’
    Hagrid nodded and moved forwards. He heaved the gigantic spider into his arms and, with an enormous grunt, rolled it into the dark pit. It hit the bottom with a rather horrible, crunchy thud. Hagrid started to cry again.
    ‘Of course, it’s difficult for you, who knew him best,’ said Slughorn, who, like Harry, could reach no higher than Hagrid’s elbow, but patted it all the same. ‘Why don’t I say a few words?’
    He must have got a lot of good-quality venom from Aragog, Harry thought, for Slughorn wore a satisfied smirk as he stepped up to the rim of the pit and said, in a slow, impressive voice, ‘Farewell, Aragog, king of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won’t forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your Forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained.’
    ‘Tha’ was … tha’ was … beau’iful!’ howled Hagrid and he collapsed on to the compost heap, crying harder than ever.
    ‘There, there,’ said Slughorn, waving his wand so that the huge pile of earth rose up and then fell, with a muffled sort of crash, on to the dead spider, forming a smooth mound. ‘Let’s get inside and have a drink. Get on his other side, Harry … that’s it … up you come, Hagrid … well done …’
    They deposited Hagrid in a chair at the