A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 227: A New King

Chapter 227: A New King

Felix Harp hesitated for a moment and turned to inquire of the eight-eyed giant spider, Gock, "If I were to put you in charge of this community of eight-eyed spiders, could you manage it, Gock?"

He sensed the large spider beside him trembling all over, its large pincers involuntarily clamping down, squashing the tall goblet even flatter.

Felix quickly tapped it with his wand, causing Gock to slump uncontrollably. The tall goblet slipped from its large pincers and drifted in front of him. Felix glanced inside uncertainly and said, "I suppose it should be fine..."

Aragog snapped angrily, "Wizard, what do you intend to do!"

But no one paid it any mind. Felix awaited Gock's response, and time seemed to stretch. Finally, Gock answered him, "I believe I can do it." It knew it had boarded this wizard's mischievous ship.

Felix wore a satisfied smile. "You would restrain your fellow spiders, wouldn't you?"

Gock affirmed firmly, "Yes!"

Aragog was beside himself with anger, its pincers thrashing. "Go, kill the wizard, kill the traitor."

The eight-eyed spiders behind it swiftly closed in. Some had already leaped, but Gock made no move. It knew the wizard would handle all troubles.

Everything unfolded as if replaying a scene. Felix held a vigorously swirling spherical vortex, surrounded by hundreds of blue magical lines. Under the pull of a terrifying force, the large spiders had no resistance as they were dragged closer, shrinking to the size of fingernails.

Felix gazed at the dozens of eight-eyed spiders within the vortex, marveling, "Each time I see this, I can't help but be amazed by the wonders of magic."

Gock mumbled despondently, "As am I."

There were no eight-eyed spiders left on the concave ground larger than a pumpkin. From the perspective of an observer, Gock saw clearly, remembering how it had been just as helpless once.

Felix swung his wand, allowing the shrunken spiders within the vortex to float in mid-air, along with those in the tall goblets, forming a dense cluster. They struggled intensely. "Tell me, Gock, which ones would pose obstacles for you?"

Gock surveyed the floating eight-eyed spiders hesitantly and pointed to a few, "They have preyed on humans, not Hogwarts students—Muggles and wizards who trespassed into the Forbidden Forest, and a werewolf."

Felix nodded, conjuring a few small flames of forest white that reduced them to ashes in the blink of an eye.

"Any more?"

Gock trembled as it said, "Just, just Aragog... there are no others."

"Very well," Felix stated. He placed Aragog into a glass jar and flung the rest of the eight-eyed spiders to the ground, where they regained their original forms.

All around him, the spiders piled up, forming several layers, like a circular towering wall.

"Gock, I won't keep you from reclaiming your community. We'll celebrate your ascension as the new king another day." Felix was ready to leave.

"Mr. Harp," Gock inquired, "Aragog... what will you do with it?"

Felix replied calmly, "It's old, it's sick. I'll take it to Hagrid. He'll look after it, perhaps extend its life for a few more years."

Felix stuffed the glass jar and the newly captured prisoner back into his pocket, retrieved a flying broomstick from his ring, and soared into the sky.

...

As the evening approached, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knocked on Hagrid's door.

Hagrid cast a skeptical glance at them, then looked at the sky outside. Muttering, he said, "Not too late yet, come in." He made way for them.

Harry was covered in dirt, holding a broomstick in his hand—fresh from training, utterly exhausted. He plopped down onto a cushion and had no intention of moving.

Ron's gaze was searching around, and he soon spotted the silhouette of Fluffy, the three-headed dog, under a small table. He went over, dragged it out, and cradled it in his arms. "Professor Harp visited? Last time we were here, Fluffy was just a puppy with little teeth."

"Yeah," Hagrid replied, his mood a bit downcast.

"Hagrid, what's happened?" Hermione asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Hagrid gestured in Ron's direction. "It's Aragog...," only then did Ron notice the fist-sized spider lying on the grubby cushion.

Ron recoiled with a shout, spiders being his worst fear, especially an aged one like this—a mix of black and gray fur, its eyes a cloudy gray, incredibly intimidating.

Harry, less frightened, pondered, "The name Aragog, you've mentioned it before..."

Hermione reminded him, "That's the name of the giant spider Hagrid had fifty years ago. He was falsely accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets because of it."

Harry's eyes lit up with understanding. He quickly formed a new question, "But the giant spiders in the pictures are all much larger... Oh, I get it. Professor Harp did this, just like with Fluffy?"

"Exactly," Hagrid grumbled, "Felix came by this morning, told me some things. I didn't expect Aragog to... never mind, it's old anyway."

He halted at a critical point, leaving Harry and the others curious. But Hagrid was reluctant to talk, and they couldn't push it.

Hermione couldn't help but say, "Hagrid, I've read that the venom of giant spiders is highly toxic."

Hagrid waved a dismissive hand, "It's too old to produce venom now, and it's blind too. It couldn't catch prey in the wild anyway. Those giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest are all its descendants. Otherwise... well, it's better this way. I'll keep it, so I don't have to worry about other spiders eating it."

The three of them took turns to pat Fluffy, and it resignedly stopped struggling, its three heads competing for the rock cakes in Ron's hands. Ron seemed quite enthused by this activity, delighting in feeding the cakes to its three mouths.

"Don't feed it too much!" Hagrid bellowed, "It'll get indigestion."

...

The trio didn't linger for too long. They promised Professor McGonagall that they'd be back at the castle before nightfall.

In the common room, Harry and Ron were working on their homework, though their hearts weren't in it. Harry sighed and pulled out a piece of parchment and a notebook from his bag, constantly comparing the contents.

Ron leaned over and glanced at it, promptly shoving his own homework aside. "Are you working on that essay Professor Harp assigned you?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, it's about the dueling system. I might have exaggerated a bit."

"Is it difficult? Your Disarming Charm is already top-notch."

"No, I can't rely solely on the Disarming Charm. If Hermione were here... Hermione? Why didn't you go to Professor Harp's office today?" Harry looked puzzled at the young witch across from him.

Hermione looked up in a fluster, "What? Oh, I didn't need to go today."

Ron teased her, "You haven't forgotten, have you? You've been acting odd lately. Forgetful, disjointed..."

"Well, you're wrong," Hermione sat up straight, her tone proud as she shot Ron a glance, "I'm working on the Ancient Runes assignment for the third year. If you think that's odd."

Ron stuttered, "Th-th-third year assignment, Hermione. You wouldn't happen to mean..."

"Exactly. You'll see it next week," she said with a straight face.

After that, Harry watched with keen interest as Ron continuously praised Hermione, hoping for even the slightest hint of what was on the assignment. "Just a little clue, Hermione, even a tiny one..."

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