When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, Allen realized that he and Slughorn were the last to arrive at Hagrid's hut.
In Hagrid's hut, Penello was holding a sharp meat cleaver and cutting the cooked mutton into slices. In the open space in front of the hut, there was still a big pot. The pot was bubbling, and the mutton bones were rolling in it. At this time, the soup had been boiled into a milky white color, and a slightly smelling mutton aroma drifted out.
Seeing Professor Slughorn come in with Allen, Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. Slughorn actually came to Hagrid's hut.
"The Elixir of Blessings won't go wrong." Harry whispered to himself. He looked at Professor Slughorn and clenched his fists. Tonight, he would definitely finish the homework assigned by Dumbledore.
Slughorn seemed to feel Harry's determined gaze. His casual gaze was startled when he saw the messy black hair and the big round-rimmed glasses. He frowned and looked away. Have I been avoiding Harry? Potter, I didn't expect to meet him here. But this time, there were so many people present, and he promised Allen that he couldn't just leave directly.
"Professor." Harry warmly greeted Slughorn, but he didn't go over.
Slughorn smiled and nodded to Harry, then turned his attention to Hagrid.
"Hagrid," Slughorn said in a low and solemn tone, "I heard Professor Harris talk about your situation. I'm sorry, please restrain your grief."
"Slug … Horace! It's good that you're willing to come! "Hagrid wiped the corner of his eyes with his big hand." You're too kind. "
Penello looked at the scene with some boredom. He was a little annoyed. The hybrid giant had finally stopped crying when Harry came over and described what had happened, and now it was triggered by Slughorn again.
The black-haired witch and Allen greeted each other with their eyes. Looking at the pot of mutton soup in front of her, she angrily stirred the mutton in the pot with a long spoon. More and more people came to attend the funeral. She lowered her head and focused on her soup. She was neither the owner of the hut nor Slughorn's student, so she didn't intend to pay much attention to him.
Just the boiling mutton soup alone was enough to fill the entire cabin with its rich aroma.
"To make the soup into this color …" Slughorn couldn't help but praise: "Miss Krivat, you must have spent a long time …"
"It took me two hours just to soak the mutton bones in cold water to remove the smell and blood, and then it took me three hours to boil it over a big fire to get rid of the foam." Penello wiped the sweat on her forehead with her sleeve. She wasn't surprised that Slughorn knew her, and she was proud of his praise. "Allen, did you find the things?"
Allen handed the plants and several linen bags to Penello, especially the bag of spices given by Snape. The witch picked different amounts of spices and put them into the soup. "Professor Snape gave it to you? Give it a try. If it tastes as bad as his magic potion, don't blame me, Allen … "
You didn't even get to watch the wonderful Quidditch game just now … "Seeing that the infamous female Auror in front of him seemed to be enjoying his compliment, Slughorn decided to take advantage of the situation and continued," But just by smelling it, I know that it's all worth it. Cooking is similar to potions. I don't expect everyone to be able to understand the beauty of the white smoke coming out of the big pot that's slowly simmering. They won't really understand the wonderful magic of the liquid that flows into people's blood vessels, the magical power that makes one's mind go wild and lose one's will … "
Harry was impressed by this line. Snape had used a similar line as the opening remark before he gave him a hard time in the first class. Only now did he understand that the old bat had stolen his teacher Slughorn's line.
"But didn't Penello leave after the competition?" Hermione was a little confused.
Luna's eyes bulged as she took out the butter beer bottle from her neck and waved it in front of Hermione's eyes. "She almost saw it when she went back to the cottage."
"Ah, Miss Lovegood, you're here too … Good afternoon …" Slughorn was used to the way the famous Ravenclaw student spoke, and he didn't delve into the deeper meaning of her words.
Hermione looked at Allen with uncertainty, but after he nodded casually, she realized that the students of the Eagle Academy were actually using the power of such a dangerous magical item on such a trivial matter, and so naturally. "Oh my god, it's not like you've signed up for all the electives. You …"
Harry, who was originally confused by the crazy girl's words, also understood after the effect of the Elixir of Fortune. He now felt that Dumbledore's worries were justified. In a sense, the Ravenclaw was more dangerous than Slytherin. At least, the purpose of the Vipers' study of dangerous knowledge was for power and ambition, but the students of the Eagle Academy were completely unpredictable. For example, they were actually reversing time to make a pot of soup …
Hagrid moved the huge wooden table out of the cottage, and Harry helped him hold the other side of the table. After everything was done, Harry, like Allen, and the others, came to the cottage to wait quietly. The dancing flames, the rising steam, the pervasive fragrance … The evening sun shone on Hagrid's cheeks, and the giant's huge shadow was cast on the ground. Together with the others, he looked like a spider, and the mottled light made his expression somewhat hazy.
Hagrid clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention, and then said loudly in a gruff voice, "I'm very grateful that everyone is here … While the sky is still bright, and it's not completely dark yet, and it's Aragok's favorite dusk, let's hold the funeral first."
"Where do you want to be buried, Hagrid?" Allen asked.
"Behind the pumpkin patch, I think." Hagrid's voice was choked with sobs. He put a black sleeve on his arm, which seemed to be made of rags dipped in shoe polish. "Before you came back, I had already dug the grave."
Penello quickly untied her small waist bag and stuffed it into Allen's arms. "Allen, I won't go. I have to look after the pot."
Allen nodded, knowing that the black-haired witch was a little upset. It was supposed to be her and him who came to deliver the spider, but now there were so many people involved.
Hagrid's hand scratched his disheveled hair. He actually hoped that as many people as possible could attend Aragok's funeral, so that Aragok could receive more blessings. However, he and Miss Penello Krivat had no friendship. As an Aura, it was good enough that she did not blame him for raising Aragok without permission. What's more, he had heard of the fierce reputation of the young female Aura in front of him. This time, the hybrid giant did not act rashly. Instead, he carefully closed his mouth here.
Hagrid led Allen and the others into the back garden. The dim yellow sky emitted a dim light, illuminating a huge pit. Next to it was a pile of fresh soil ten feet high.
Allen opened Penello's waist bag and released Aragok's body. Aragok was facing the sky, all of his sharp limbs bent towards the sky. His two curved pincers were motionless, and the eight milky white eyes on his head stared blankly at the sky.
"Merlin's beard, such a big eight-eyed spider?" Slughorn looked at the extraordinarily huge eight-eyed spider in disbelief.
"I think it's him …" Hermione began, then looked at Hagrid and changed her words. "I think it's him, Professor."
Allen did not say much. He had been staring at Harry, trying to identify the composition of magic emitted by him after he took the Elixir of Fortune. He could not see anything in a short time, but he could roughly judge that there was indeed a composition of divination, at least part of it.
"My goodness, how did you kill it?" Slughorn frowned and spread out his hands, unable to understand. He stared at the spider in front of him with wide eyes, completely unable to move his eyes away from this huge spider.
"Kill him? He's my old friend! "Hagrid was unhappy." Aren't we holding a funeral for him? "
"Sorry, I didn't know …" Professor Slughorn reacted and quickly explained. "Sorry, Hagrid, I didn't know he … he's a spider."
"Forget it, don't take it to heart. You're not the only one who doesn't like eight-eyed spiders. Spiders are often misunderstood, probably because of their eyes, which make some people afraid." Hagrid's eyes narrowed slightly. He himself was often misunderstood, which made him afraid. However, recalling what Aragok's descendants had done, Hagrid, who had been trained by the umbrella, was a little worried. "But if you accidentally touch one, it's best to turn around and run. Their tempers are not very good …"
"His pincers are not very good either …" Harry, who was behind Hagrid, grimaced and put two fingers on his mouth, imitating the stretching and retracting of a spider's pincers.
"Well, that's probably the reason." Hagrid looked at Harry uncomfortably.
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