Chapter 84: Find Them to Get Rich

Harry and Ron both held their breath in anticipation. Deep down, they understood the fundamental goal of Hagrid's breadcrumb trail of spiders: it was to trace back to this colossal arachnid, Aragog.

In doing so, they hoped to exonerate Hagrid, to finally erase the stain of suspicion that had haunted him from his expulsion from Hogwarts half a century ago. It also led Sherlock Forester, the current Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, to venture into the Forbidden Forest under the cloak of night. Aragog, however, was not as forthcoming as either of them had hoped.

"I have my suspicions as to where the monster hides, but I cannot tell you. The ancient one, I dare not cross its path," Aragog responded coldly. As he spoke, the swarm of spiders began to creep closer, closing in on Sherlock and his charges.

Sherlock gave Aragog a frosty gaze as he saw the colossal spider receding, evidently retreating to the comfort of his lair. "What do you intend to do now?" Sherlock queried.

"The young ones, they heed me, but not indefinitely. They won't harm Hagrid, but I can't ensure their benevolence toward a more tantalizing meal. My age has caught up with me and I don't have the strength to interfere in Hagrid's concerns anymore. I am nothing but a blind, fading creature now," Aragog declared solemnly.

Harry and Ron, witnessing the encroaching mass of spiders, clutched Sherlock's robe in a sudden grip of fear. They shot each other a look topped with dread, seeing their mutual trepidation reflected in the other's eyes. Precisely as Professor Forester had predicted!

Sherlock's voice, as cold as ice yet holding a serene undertone, echoed around them, "Creatures will remain creatures. Regardless of human kindness, they will respond to their instincts. It's quite the repellent predictability."

Aragog offered no retort, for at that moment, waves of giant spiders surged forth, threatening to engulf them all. The screams of terror leapt out from Harry and Ron, their fear hitting a new crescendo. At this moment, Sherlock finally brandished his wand, "Incendio!" His words carved through the air.

A sweeping vortex of a brilliant yellow flame sprung to life around him, the ferocious heat forcing back the wave of advancing spiders. The fiery barrier encased Harry, Ron, Fang and himself, securing them from the peril circling outside.

"What do we do now, Professor?" Harry asked, urgency seeping into his tone.

Sherlock extended the range of the flames, creating a protective circle with a five-meter radius. The colossal spiders, cowed by the searing heat and the intense light, retreated hurriedly. These ferocious spiders, given a XXXXX danger classification rating by the Ministry, notably had a clear weakness, they feared fire.

"Stay with me, grab onto my arm and don't let go." Sherlock's words came in quick succession. He then began leading them to the edge of the encircling spiders, leveraging the protective flames as a buffer.

Sherlock had spent more than six months at Hogwarts. Although he'd not mastered a wide spectrum of advanced spells, he'd honed the basic defensive charms like "Incendio," to a level of proficiency that surpassed many others.

He'd spent his spare time engaging in enlightening dialogues with Professor Flitwick, a notable authority in Charms. Even Flitwick, with his decades of instructional experience at Hogwarts, had commended Sherlock's grasp of spells.

Despite being just over half a year into his magical journey, Sherlock was dubious about the contents of a book he'd chanced upon in the library, "Soul Stitching," penned by his own mother. The norm was, a lacerated soul would result in diminished magical capability. Why was it, then, that his abilities seemed to have strengthened instead?

Nestled within the burning cocoon, Sherlock, along with Harry and Ron, managed to maneuver out of the spiders' region. The spiders, however, stirred by an unprecedented opportunity for fresh meat and emboldened by the absence of Aragog's restraining influence, were relentless in their pursuit.

"Do they deem us pushovers?" Sherlock scoffed, the dancing flames casting an eerie glow on his determined face. Guile and survival instincts in full play, he crafted a chain out of fallen twigs. Like a snake in the grass, it stayed veiled beneath a carpet of leaves.

The spiders, oblivious to the lurking threat, pursued them relentlessly. Their claws struck the chain, triggering it to rise and ensnare five spiders instantly. Before they could manage to break free, a flicker of Sherlock's wand transformed the overhead leaves into sharp blades that descended with ruthless accuracy.

Their futile struggle ended with them perforated and motionless on the forest floor, an image sure to act as a stern warning to the others. After all, in the Forbidden Forest, they lorded over all; even the centaurs dared not retaliate, so losing five of their brethren at once was sure to be a shock to them.

Continuing their escape, the dense foliage of the forest provided some respite. Sherlock then cast an explosive fire charm that lapped hungrily at the surroundings. The resulting firewall dissuaded the spiders from pursuing further.

Relieved and with an air of apprehension, Harry voiced his concern, "Professor, won't the entire Forbidden Forest be torched because of this?"

Sherlock, pulling Harry along, responded dismissively. "You overestimate me – even Dumbledore wouldn't dare claim to have that power. Before it can cause much damage the local inhabitants will deal with my fires."

Despite their narrow escape, Sherlock was not satisfied. Looking back at the dwindling fire and the thwarted spiders, he remarked coolly, "But this is far from over, I've heard these creatures' venom fetches a high price in Knockturn Alley. I'll come back to claim my bounty in due time."