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When Hagrid returned with snowdrops, the Acromantulas had already chatted themselves hungry.
"It's our instinct," the ninety-seventh grandson said. Several pairs of eyes on its head gleamed. "But like Aragog, I can restrain my instincts."
"That's purely out of respect for Hagrid," Aragog said to Anthony. Then turned toward Hagrid who'd walked nearby. "If Hagrid hadn't told me to look after you, I absolutely wouldn't stop my children."
Hagrid clutched a large bunch of snow-white flowers. Swayed with his steps. No telling where he'd picked them.
"I can see that. But anyway, thank you," Anthony joked. "Next time hang around the unicorns more. Maybe you'll get to eat that bastard."
Hagrid asked blankly, "Eat what?" A snowdrop was pinned to his collar. When he lowered his head, his messy big beard pressed it swaying back and forth. Compared to his size, these flowers were surprisingly small.
"Nothing. Just joking," Anthony said. As a human, he didn't think anyone should become an Acromantula's afternoon snack.
Hagrid didn't pursue what they'd been discussing. He picked out three snowdrops. Handed them to Anthony. Then tried convincing Aragog to "hold flowers in hand" to present to the unicorn.
"You didn't present flowers last time," Hagrid complained to Aragog.
Hagrid had lived at Hogwarts a long time. Even witnessed the last dead unicorn's funeral... According to Aragog, that was this murdered unicorn's great-great-great-great-great-grandmother (five or six greats—Aragog counted for a while, then slowly admitted its memory wasn't very good anymore, and Acromantula math was generally not great). Unicorns were usually quite long-lived.
Fang's neck also wore a circle of snowdrops. Hung outside its collar. Anthony leaned over to look carefully. Found these flowers were strung with the rope Hagrid used to hang ham. Could even faintly smell dried ham's distinctive scent. But Fang obviously didn't care about these fragile white flowers on its neck. When Aragog approached, desperately pressed against Hagrid's leg. Rubbed off several flowers.
Anthony held these flowers that humbly bowed their heads. Waited puzzled. The unicorns blocked the clearing's body tightly. After he couldn't see that impactful scene, he'd calmed considerably.
Thinking back, he didn't even understand why he'd been so painfully sad before.
He rarely had such intense emotional fluctuations anymore. The Bloody Baron mentioned in his notes—he once doubted whether he truly suited learning Necromancy because emotions were too intense. In conversations with Anthony, he also mentioned Necromancy amplified his emotions. Ultimately led to him being blinded by rage.
Anthony hoped his grief was normal—not because Necromancy was secretly tempting him to do something.
But compared to Hagrid's heartbroken appearance, he even felt maybe he was too cold. If Aragog really told Hagrid the killer was human, Anthony believed Hagrid would charge into the castle. Bang on Dumbledore's office door. Then request the almighty headmaster find the killer and crush them... Physical sense, not spell sense.
Suddenly, the centaurs seemed to sense something. All stood solemnly in the woods.
Next came the Acromantulas. They rustled into formation. Anthony heard several spiders complain why Aragog came to participate in this magical ritual unrelated to them—unlike unicorns or centaurs, Acromantula tradition had no funerals—but when unicorn horns pointed at them, all clicking complaints disappeared.
Hagrid stood beside Anthony. Repeatedly adjusted the flower on his clothes. Pinched it more droopy. Anthony pulled out another flower. Helped pin it on Hagrid's brown plaid coat. Said quietly, "Stop touching it."
The unicorns surrounding the clearing suddenly seemed taller. More powerful. More mysterious. They took strange steps. Began circling the forest clearing.
"Okay, okay," Hagrid said in a muffled voice. "It's starting." He watched the unicorn procession. Blinked desperately. Then lowered his head to rummage in his pocket for a while before pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes.
The clouds above parted. Sunlight quietly shone on the clearing. This grassland seemed greener than anywhere else. Silver-white unicorns circled the sunlit bier like flowing moonlight. Two young unicorns stood up. Jumped over their mother's neck. Joined the other adult unicorns' procession.
To catch up with other unicorns' pace, they trotted and leaped along. Almost like playing. The adult unicorn following them gazed sadly. Lowered its head. Used its nose to nudge them back beside their mother.
Hagrid sobbed loudly.
Under their gaze, sunlight grew more brilliant. Warmer. The unicorn's body in the clearing gradually dimmed. That soul-stirring pure magic on it disappeared. Lying there now was just flesh. An empty shell. The meaningless sounds that filled the Forbidden Forest suddenly returned. Anthony could hear distant bird calls. Faint water sounds.
Only then did the young unicorns seem to wonder where their mother went. They circled beside the body. Gently bit its fur with teeth. Tugged and shook. As if trying to wake something.
"It has returned to magic," a centaur said solemnly. They raised bows and arrows. Shot arrows toward the clearing's edge. Anthony watched the arrow rain sweep overhead. Then fall in empty unoccupied places.
Bane nodded to the tallest unicorn. Then said to the centaurs, "Let's go."
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