ARAGOG
Harry pointed out the spiders, following their progress with his
eyes screwed up against the sun.
“Oh, yeah,” said Ron, trying, and failing, to look pleased. “But
we can’t follow them now —”
Ernie and Hannah were listening curiously.
Harry’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the spiders. If they pur-
sued their fixed course, there could be no doubt about where they
would end up.
“Looks like they’re heading for the Forbidden Forest. . . .”
And Ron looked even unhappier about that.
At the end of the lesson Professor Sprout escorted the class to
their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry and Ron lagged
behind the others so they could talk out of earshot.
“We’ll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again,” Harry told Ron.
“We can take Fang with us. He’s used to going into the forest with
Hagrid, he might be some help.”
“Right,” said Ron, who was twirling his wand nervously in his
fingers. “Er — aren’t there — aren’t there supposed to be were-
wolves in the forest?” he added as they took their usual places at the
back of Lockhart’s classroom.
Preferring not to answer that question, Harry said, “There are
good things in there, too. The centaurs are all right, and the uni-
corns . . .”
Ron had never been into the Forbidden Forest before. Harry had
entered it only once and had hoped never to do so again.
Lockhart bounded into the room and the class stared at him.
Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual,
but Lockhart appeared nothing short of buoyant.
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