Easter Is Here

9 p.m.

The funeral had ended amid Hagrid's impassioned eulogy.

"Aragog... Aragog..."

A choked, indistinct murmur squeezed from the Half-Giant's throat, thick with tears.

When the earth covered the last exposed joint of Aragog's body, Hagrid let out a grief-stricken howl, then collapsed onto the nearby mound of dirt, sobbing.

"Hagrid!"

Hermione cried out. Loren and the others rushed over and struggled to help him into the hut and settle him in a chair. Fang, the hound, said nothing as he padded over and rested his head on his master's shoes.

Harry began bustling about as soon as he entered, deftly lighting the fire and setting a water-filled kettle on the stove. The warm glow immediately drove away the damp chill of the forest night.

Loren glanced at the diligent Harry, then said to Slughorn, who had entered behind them, "Professor, curfew is almost here. We can't all stay behind, and we're worried about leaving Harry to look after Hagrid alone. Could you help keep an eye on him?"

Harry shot him a grateful look.

"No problem!"

Slughorn replied heartily. His gaze drifted unconsciously toward the ceiling, where several sets of rare furs hung casually, along with a few copper pots made by Centaurs and several bundles of sleek, lustrous Unicorn Hair. With only a cursory glance, his exceptional eye and extensive knowledge swiftly assessed their value: at least several thousand Galleons.

When Slughorn looked at Hagrid again, his eyes widened, as though he had sensed the enormous disparity in their wealth—far greater than he had expected.

He had sold off a batch of Felix Felicis some time ago and was not short of Galleons now, but the casual way such precious materials were displayed gave him the shock of a comfortably middle-class man encountering a nouveau riche tycoon.

"We'll