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Anthony always found it hard to explain his state to others. Among the few who knew his necromancer identity exactly—setting aside the Ministry—Professor McGonagall always consciously or unconsciously avoided this issue. Snape didn't get along with him. Even Dumbledore could mostly only provide theoretical help. Couldn't truly understand the problems he faced.
Still, Anthony remained deeply grateful to Dumbledore. This wise old man always listened seriously to his questions. Enjoyed discussing various strange magical theories with him. Never showed rejection of Necromancy. The more Anthony understood the magical world, the more he realized how rare this was.
Once Anthony accidentally brought his Wraith Mouse in his pocket to Dumbledore's office. Fawkes looked at him reproachfully. But Dumbledore was quite kind to the rat. Even provided it a very, very small teacup so it could hold it and drink tea.
Another Necromancy practitioner, the Bloody Baron, provided far less support than Dumbledore. After that morning conversation, this former Necromancy apprentice seemed deliberately avoiding Anthony. Anthony hadn't seen this haggard ghost in a long time. Nearly Headless Nick also said the Bloody Baron had been in low spirits recently. Even somewhat deranged. Wandered the Slytherin dungeon corridors all day. Made students uncomfortable every time they left their dormitory.
"First-year Weasley said so," Nearly Headless Nick added at the time. "He said that Malfoy boy looks like he just ate a meal of slugs every time at dinner. His brothers told him it's because the Baron's been appearing gloomily in Slytherin corridors lately. Asking them strange questions from time to time. Scared students into having no appetite."
Anthony observed for a while afterward. Found Slytherin students really ate much less than other houses. They weren't even that interested in chocolate ice cream. Let alone boiled broccoli.
But compared to Malfoy or Parkinson, among the few Slytherin students Anthony knew, Miss Davis had a surprisingly good appetite. He watched her politely ask other students. Then fork chicken legs from others' plates onto her own. Ate elegantly.
Anthony sometimes passed that abandoned bathroom. Aside from the rainbow wig toilet plunger's welcome speech, no trace of magic stirred in the bathroom anymore. Either Tracey had cautiously changed potion-brewing locations, or recently no longer needed Calming Draught's help.
Even without much hope, Anthony still hoped for the latter.
"The unicorns agree you can stay here," Bane translated. Still glared at Anthony. "But that's because if there's any possibility, they don't want conflict on this occasion..." He nodded proudly and respectfully toward the unicorn's body. "But remember my words, human. Don't easily step into our forest. I don't welcome you."
He tightened his bow and quiver straps. Slowly walked back to the herd.
Aragog sat down silently beside Anthony. Its descendants also gradually gathered around. Several Acromantulas still greedily sized up Anthony. One clicked complaints to Aragog about being hungry.
"You can't kill people in unicorn territory," Aragog said drowsily. "Besides, Hagrid told me to look after his friend."
That spider fiddled with its pincers. Quoted centaur logic: they respected Hagrid, didn't harm Hagrid. Didn't mean they needed to give Hagrid's friends the same treatment.
"The centaurs say Aragog likes humans too much," it said.
The old spider grew angry.
It stood up heavily and slowly. Gray-white, furry legs supporting its huge body. "Think I'm too old now, do you... I don't like humans at all. Won't stop you from enjoying food delivered to your door... But if I don't allow you to leave the forest, you can't leave the forest. If I say you can't eat Hagrid's friend today, you can't eat Hagrid's friend today."
It swung its pincers viciously at a small tree beside it. That tree made an overburdened creaking sound. Slowly tilted down. Branches and leaves swept past nearby Acromantulas. Then crashed to the ground with a boom.
"Am. I. Making. Myself. Clear?" Aragog asked.
"Yes, Aragog," that Acromantula said. Rustled back among its siblings.
Aragog stood with pincers raised for a while. Then slowly sat back down. Said to Anthony, "My children haven't eaten human flesh in a long time."
Anthony asked, "When was the last time?"
"I can't remember," Aragog said slowly.
Beside them, an Acromantula said resentfully, "I've never eaten any."
Another Acromantula asked doubtfully, "You haven't either?"
Anthony's question seemed to open an Acromantula memory session. They began clicking and exchanging hunting experiences. But all these years, Hagrid had guarded the Forbidden Forest quite successfully. No humans had entered Acromantula hunting territory. They'd always suspected it was their hunting range's problem. Because in other creatures' territories, they could occasionally smell human scent.
Based on the directions they described to Anthony, he guessed they meant Professor Sprout and Snape who periodically came to the Forbidden Forest gathering herbs. From this angle, he thought this range division somewhat protected the Acromantulas. With Anthony's shallow potion knowledge—like the Basilisk—Acromantulas obviously also had some potion materials on them.
Anthony allowed himself to briefly imagine how Snape would grin while killing Aragog's children. Then stopped this story from developing further when thinking of a teary-eyed Hagrid.
One Acromantula told of once being one small step from success.
"Except once, I deviated slightly from my route... Those two human cubs were so close... But Hagrid chased them away... Just a little bit..." Its voice gradually lowered. As if savoring their sweet fragrance.
Other spiders waved pincers in agreement. They all remembered this story. This was just a few years ago.
Anthony carefully asked about this story. Finally decided to pay more attention to the Weasley brothers in the future. But that was their first-year story. When they vaguely realized the Forbidden Forest depths indeed had dangerous things, they never approached Acromantula territory again—at least that's what the spiders said. They never saw that fresh human meat again.
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