A Potter Secret

Follow the Spiders

Harry illuminates the trail of spiders. They run from the window to the ground, to the dark trees in the near distance. As Harry moves to follow, Ron hesitates. "What are you doing?" Ron asks.

"You heard Hagrid. Follow the spiders," Harry reminds.

"They're heading into the Dark Forest," Ron says. Harry sighs, heads off. Terrified, Ron grabs Fang, follows. "Why spiders. Why couldn't it be 'Follow the butterflies'?"

Fang crashes through low-slung branches and sharp brambles as Harry follows. Ron gingerly picks his way, then jumps as Fang howls. Branches snap. A rumbling noise sounds, then, silence. Harry spies something and points. "There's something moving over there, something big," Harry says. Just then a blaze of light splinters the trees, blinding them. They start to flee, when Ron stops.

"Harry! Harry, it's our car!" Ron cries.

Scratched and mud-smeared, with bits of earth and grass sprouting from its headlamps and hubcaps, the Ford Anglia looks half-animal. Ron circles it in wonder. "It's been here all the time! Look at it," Harry notes. The Forest has turned it wild. Harry nods, then glances back up the slope. "C'mon, we don't want to lose the trail."

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Harry and Ron enter a hollow ribboned with shadows. Enormous trees tower over them, strewn with strands of white webbing. Ron steps on a strand, kicks it off queasily. Harry peers up ahead: at the far end of the hollow, the spiders stream toward a dark opening.As Harry and Ron approach the opening, a clicking sound emanates from within, echoing in the branches of the tall trees. Growing louder. Ron falters, glancing about nervously. "I don't have a good feeling about this, Harry-" Ron says.

"Don't panic," Harry whispers. As Harry steps to the mouth of the cavern, the air suddenly crackles with movement. Twigs snap. A huge shadow emerges, slowly engulfs Harry. He peers up and see an ancient spider, Aragog, the size of a small elephant. As it advances, Harry and Ron back slowly away. Then: its blind eyes catch the light, and it stops as if listening.

"You do not come from the forest. Your hearts beat like, men," Aragog rasps.

"Yes. We're friends of Hagrid's. And you, you're-" Harry stutters as it comes to him. "Aragog, aren't you?"

Hearing this, Aragog's head turns slightly. "Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," Aragog explains.

"He's in trouble. Up at school, there've been attacks. They think it's Hagrid. They think he's opened the Chamber of Secrets. Like before," Harry relays.

As Harry talks, Ron's eyes dart warily about, then a pair of long legs, spider's legs, curl slowly around the trunk of the tree to his left. Terrified, Ron nudges Harry, but Harry ignores him. "That's a lie! Hagrid never opend the Chamber of Secrets!" Aragog insists.

"But if Hagrid never, that means, you're not the monster," Harry says.

"The monster was born in the castle. I came from a distant land, in the pocket of a traveler."

Ron turns. two crawling silhouettes inch forward. Pause. Waiting. Watching. "Harry-" Ron tries.

"Shhh!" Harry hushes, turning back to Aragog. "But if you're not the monster, what did kill that girl fifty years ago?"

"We do not speak of it! It is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others," Aragog replies.

"But have you seen it?" Harry asks.

A scrabbling sound echoes above Ron. He glances up, a spider crouches on a branch above.

"I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which Hagrid kept me. The girl was discovered in a bathroom. When I was accused, Hagrid brought me here," Aragog explains. More scrabbling. Ron looks up. He sees spiders, in high and low branches, dropping downward like paratroopers. Ron grabs Harry.

"What!" Harry demands. Ron points. Harry looks. Pales. Turns slowly back to Aragog. "Well, thank you. We'll just go-"

"Go? I think not. My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friend of Hagrid," Aragog replies. Aragog turns, disappears into the shadows of the cavern.

"Can we panic now?" Ron cries. Click! Click! Click! Harry and Ron spin. A gang of five-foot spiders bar the path ahead. Begin to move forward. Harry and Ron spin again, spiders. Everywhere. Closing in. Desperately, harry swings the lantern in his hand. The spiders falter, then creep forward again as the arc of the light chases itself away. Around and around. Then, the lantern goes out. Harry pitches it aside. As one, he and Ron draw their wands. "Nice knowing you."

They're done for. Fang whimpers. The spiders draw closer, clicking feverishly, when a long, loud horn bleats. Seconds later, a blaze of light ignites the hollow and the FORD ANGLIA comes thundering over the rim and down the slope, knocking spiders out of its path. As it screeches to a halt, the doors fling open. "Let's go!" Harry calls. Harry, Ron and fang leap inside. Ron shifts frantically. A spider appears at Harry's open window. "THE WINDOWS! ROLL UP THE WINDOWS!"

"I CAN'T! IT'S STUCK!" Ron replies. Just then, a hairy leg reaches through Ron's window. Instantly, Ron hits the gas, throws the car into reverse. Spiders scatter, but the two clinging to the side windows hold tight. As the car zooms backwards out of the hollow, Harry rolls his window tight, snapping off his spider's legs. The Anglia jets out of the hollow, lands with a thud. Harry turns. The other spider is pulling Ron from the car. Harry points his wand, utters a spell and a blinding flash of white light blasts the spider into the shadows whipping past. "Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it," Harry replies. They stop. Both hear it, a distant clicking. As the car flies over a ridge, they see them, a sea of spider sheading straight for them like a herd of raging wildebeest. Ron puts his foot to the floor, spins the wheel and sends the car sliding away. The spiders stampede after. The Anglia slaloms through the forest, skimming past trees as the spiders charge after. Harry peers ahead, sees an area of fallen trees. There is an opening, one narrow escape route. "That way! It's the only way out! Hurry! They're catching up!" Ron jams the accelerator, just as a giant tarantula drops in front of the escape route. Harry and Ron are as good as dead. "Can you get us in the air?"

"Flying gear's jammed!" Ron replies. The spiders behind draw closer. The tarantula waits ahead. Harry claps his hand over Ron's on the gearshift, pushing. The tarantula's pincers open, ready to kill, when, the gear shift gives, the Anglia's wheels lift and the car flies, leaving the furious spiders below. The car barely avoids the rearing tarantula, then sails over the trees.

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As they land, Fang bolts free. Harry and Ron exit the car wearily, then watch it turn and rumble back into the forest. "'Follow the spiders'! Follow the spiders'! If he ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill Hagrid. I mean, what was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out?" Ron cries.

"We know one thing. Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent," Harry replies.

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Madam Pomfrey bars the door, frowns at Harry and Ron. "There's no point in talking to a petrified person. She won't hear a word you're saying," Madam Pomfrey says.

Ron shifts uncomfortably. "We know that, Madam Pomfrey. It's just, well, you see, we thought, maybe, we could, be with her fora bit. She's our, friend, you see, and, even if she can't hear us, I mean, it can't hurt, can it?" Ron asks.

A glint of sympathy flickers in Pomfrey's eyes. "Very well then. But be quick about it," Madam Pomfrey replies.

As she exits, the boys step to her bed. Absently, Ron picks up the circular mirror that lies on the nightstand. Eyes Lockhart's Get Well card. "You don't think Lockhart could be the heir of Slytherin, do you? Right. Forget I said it," Ron mutters.

Harry studies Hermione's face. "Wish you were here, Hermione. We need you. Now more than ever-" Harry replies. Just then, the mirror in Ron's hand catches the late afternoon sunlight and casts a jagged flame across Hermione's hand. Harry watches the light dance over her fingers, then looks closer. Sees the paper clutched there.

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