So, as early as last year, he had heard the name Vaughn Weasley and knew of his deeds.
Such a familiar age, power, and skill.
The last young wizard to give him that same complicated sense of dread was named Tom Riddle—
Terrifying memories flooded his mind. Aragog struggled free from that nightmare-like past, came back to himself, and turned to "look" at Vaughn. One of his legs lifted and pressed down on Araclaid's head.
Beneath him, Araclaid froze for a moment, then struggled and shrieked, "No, Aragog, you can't—" His head was shoved into the mud. Aragog raised another leg and aimed it at the head twisting in the dirt.
On the other side, Mars, who had remained silent ever since Aragog emerged, was stunned by his father's actions—he could naturally tell that Aragog was preparing to kill Araclaid!
Why?
This was beyond anything he had expected!
But Mars did not dare move. Aragog was old and blind, but he was still the father and leader of all Acromantulas. As long as he still drew breath, no one could defy his decision.
Hagrid was equally shocked. He had indeed been furious just now, especially at Araclaid for attacking Harry and Ron.
But he had never considered killing Araclaid. The same went for Aragorn. After Vaughn's magic had torn him apart, Hagrid avoided speaking of it only because he felt guilty; deep down, he had not wanted him to die.
That was only natural. They were, after all, Aragog's children—the descendants of his best friend, a group of juniors he had watched grow up.
"Aragog, stop—"
Hagrid shouted for him to stop.
Vaughn, on the other hand, felt no stirrings at all. He watched Aragog with an interested gaze. Naturally, he had noticed the glance the old spider had "cast"