Click, click, click.

"Father, tell me about the day those humans came into the hollow."

I sighed and slowly blinked my many eyes. "That was years ago, Shadrach. I no longer remember those days."

Click.

"Tell me."

My son's voice was not demanding or pleading, but curious and interested. I clicked my pincers nervously.

"I know you remember, Father."

I sighed once more before settling down. "Very well, but I do not remember everything. You will have to forgive my slow memory.

"It was the second Dark Period, when the power of the Dread Creature was growing strong. All of our numbers rallied here to be safe, but we knew that unless someone could defeat the creature, we would be destroyed. We had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, but our leader, your great-grandfather Aragog, was very weak. We were growing restless and hungry, but we did not dare attack the centaurs, for we knew they would exterminate us long before we could them.

"Aragog had instructed us not to harm the man who raised him and found him a home. He was the only human who ever entered the forest. One day, word reached our ears that there were two men in the forest, and one creature we had never heard of. We leapt at the chance of fresh meat; my eldest brothers, Ikram, Hirshel, and Mutamid went out to get them. They were successful; together they brought back a man with red hair, one with black, and an animal we did not recognise.

"I remember Aragog asked who they were.

The men seemed incapable of speech, however, so Mutamid answered: 'Men.'

'Is it Hagrid?' Aragog asked, for that was the name of the man who raised him.

'Strangers,' Ikram answered.

'Kill them,' I heard Aragog say.

I was in a ditch all the while, making a web with Mierit, your mother, but I still heard the black-haired man shout, 'We're friends of Hagrid's!'

"I was very angry at first. I thought we would not be allowed to eat them when they were through talking to Aragog, but I was wrong. They spoke to Aragog for some time, but I do not recall all that was said. They were inquiring about the Dread Creature. Aragog refused to tell them much. The red-haired man was very frightened of us, but the black-haired one cried out, 'We'll just go, then!'

"I do not remember what Aragog said after that, but I do recall that he told us we were allowed to eat them. I was overwhelmingly hungry, so I hurried from the web before anyone else could get to them. Mierit followed me quickly, and so did many others. They formed a wall behind the men, ready to spring. We had almost reached them when a terrible noise erupted near us, and an intense light penetrated the darkness of the forest."

"What was it, Father?" my son asked in a hushed voice, snapping his pincers together as he talked. Click, click.

"It was a creature of some kind," I responded, clicking my own pincers. "It terrified me, so I tried to go back to the ditch where Mierit and I had set up our web, but it was too late. The new creature knocked over the wall and screeched to a halt in front of the men. Mierit ran forward to stop them, but it ran backwards into her very forcefully. She was wounded badly. I tried to carry her back to the web, but by the time I reached it, she had left the world. I swore I would get revenge on those men for killing my wife."

"Did you?" clicked my son when I did not continue.

"I almost did," I replied sorrowfully. "I was tending to one of my webs in the forest - it had broken - and I was approached by a man. I did not know if it was Hagrid or not; I had not met Hagrid, nor this man, before.

'Who are you?' I asked warily.

'Rubeus Hagrid,' the man told me. 'I'm here ter ask a favour of Aragog.'

'Aragog is not well,' I said to him. 'You may discuss it with me. I am his grandson, Tawfiq.'

'I've been sent by Albus Dumbledore,' Hagrid announced. He had a very strange voice, but I understood what he said fairly well. 'We're competin' in the Triwizard Tournament. We're hostin' it, an' we'd like it if we could have one of yer people participate.'

'Participate?' I repeated, confused. I did not know what a Triwizard Tournament was.

'Er,' the man said nervously. 'We're arrangin' this maze, y'see, and we need one o' yer folk to, er, patrol round where we set the Triwizard Cup.'

'What is this maze for?' I asked slowly.

'Well, the three - actually, four - champions have ter get to the centre o' the maze, an' whoever gets there first wins,' the man told me. I became interested.

'Who are these champions?' I asked.

'One champion per school,' he replied. 'Fleur Delacour, from Beauxbatons; Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang; an' Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter for Hogwarts. Harry's a lovely chap, been in here before, actually. Did yeh happen ter meet him?'

'He was... in the forest?' I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

'Yeah,' the man said happily. 'Got me out of a rough spot that year, he did. An' Ron, too.'

'Does this man - Harry Potter - have red or black hair?' I asked cautiously.

'Black,' the man replied. 'Ron's the redhead. He's a great feller too.'

'He came with a red-haired man and a creature,' I stated, just to confirm it. The man called Hagrid nodded. I blinked my eight eyes and declared, 'I will participate in this tournament of men.'"

Click click click, click click.

"Did you get them, Father? Did you kill the men who murdered Mother?" my son asked.

"No," I said regretfully. "I patrolled the centre of the maze. For hours, I waited, and then two men ran up the path. I revealed myself, ready to strike, to kill. There was a tall, unfamiliar man with the black-haired one. The taller one did not see me, but the other one did.

'Cedric!' the black-haired man bellowed. 'On your left!' The taller man looked horrified to see me standing in front of him. He fell, and, always hungry, I moved in. The black-haired man sent a jet of light into my side. It did not hurt, but I was reminded of his presence, so I decided to kill him first and eat them both after. I moved toward him quickly and picked him up in my front legs. He kicked and screamed, so I clipped his leg with my pincers. Then the man performed a spell that made him fall from my grip. The two men sent light onto my underside, where I am weak.

"The next thing I knew, I was being revived by Hagrid. I had failed."

"But Father, our venom is deadly. Surely you must have killed the man." My son blinked confusedly. I shook my head mournfully.

"Sadly, not. The man has survived to this day, and I am too weak to kill him. Promise me, Shadrach, that you will take on my burden of vengeance against this man, Harry Potter."

"I will, Father," my son answered. "I promise."

"And now, my son, I am old and weary," I said, with difficulty. "I go to join Aragog and Mierit."

"Father," my son clicked his pincers rapidly, "you cannot die now. I do not know how to find this man."

"You will find him," I whispered. I could feel myself beginning to fade. "Promise me, Shadrach."

"I promise," he repeated.

Then I closed my eyes and let go.

Click, click.