Fic: Caught in Love's Web (Aragog/Mosag)

[bookishwench]

The Forbidden Forest was filled with secrets that no one could ever hope to unravel. Sometimes students would try their hands at venturing inside it to see what they could find. That never ended well. Hagrid, who understood the forest better than anyone else, could find his way because he realized that he would never know exactly what would happen next. The trees accepted him, the shadowy spots made themselves less lethal for him, and the creatures that lived under the forest’s protection either adored him as their favorite pet or simply stayed away. Because of this, Hagrid really believed that others who entered the forest and came out with stories of horrors or who got lost almost at once were being overly dramatic. They weren’t, of course. It was just that the forest and everything in it didn’t love them the way it loved Hagrid.

It helped that one of the most frightening animals in the forest considered Hagrid his oldest and dearest friend. This day, having finished all of his duties, Hagrid had set out to visit Aragog, letting the path lead him in the general direction of the gigantic spider. As usual, the path turned and twisted in ways it never had before, but that was just its way. Eventually, as Hagrid trusted it would, it led him directly to the huge web his friend had spun between a pair of oak trees.

“Tha’s a nice one, Aragog,” Hagrid said pleasantly. “Yeh’ve bin busy.”

“I have,” Aragog said, and his mouth turned upwards in a wistful smile that would have sent most humans running. “It helps to pass the time.”

“Yeh sound a bit sad,” Hagrid said, leaning against one of the trees and using a stick to get a rock unstuck from the sole of his enormous boot. It turned out to be one of his scones from that morning. “Summat wrong?”

Aragog sighed, then scurried down the web and toward Hagrid, his pincers clicking a bit more slowly than usual.

“It is spring,” Aragog finally said, “and I am feeling more lonely than usual.”

“Well, yeah. I keep tellin’ yeh, yeh’ve got to quit eatin’ yer friends,” Hagrid said. “That’d make anyone lonesome.”

“It’s not that,” Aragog said. “I simply wish there was another spider around. One my own size, you understand, not the stunted things native to this place.”

“I can understand tha’,” Hagrid said, smiling at him. “It’s a li’l hard fer me, too. Most witches an’ wizards are so tiny, I’m afraid I might step on ‘em.”

Aragog hummed in agreement, but he still had a forlorn look on his face. Considering the number of eyes he had, that was either especially sad or completely terrifying, but, Hagrid being Hagrid, he felt only sympathy for his friend.

“Oh, I see,” Hagrid said, suddenly realizing. “It’s a lady spider yeh’ll be wantin’, isn’ it?”

“Alas, Hagrid, I fear Cupid’s bow shall never twang for me,” Aragog said, sighing.

“Now, now, don’ give up hope. Look, I can’ make no promises, mind, but I can at leas’ keep an eye or two open fer yeh,” Hagrid said. “Yeh never know what or who migh’ pop up in my line o’ work.”

“You are very kind, Hagrid,” Aragog said, smiling with his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I would be most grateful for any assistance you might give me.”

“No worries. Don’ mean ter dash away, bu’ there’s some scrub bushes coverin’ the path a few miles north o’ here, and the centaurs have been complainin’. Don’ want ‘em gettin’ grouchy on me,” Hagrid said.

“Good luck, Hagrid,” Aragog said, waving several of his legs in farewell at Hagrid’s retreating form. “I hope I shall see you again soon.”

Nothing much else of note happened that night. Hagrid cleared the paths, then set about tending to some wilting Flutterby Bushes and a few disgruntled gnomes. By the time he was finished, the eastern sky was starting to get pink, and he fell into bed still fully clothed and began snoring before his blanket had even settled.

It wasn’t until a week later that the forest saw fit to point him in the right direction. As he was out checking the unicorn herds, he noticed a new path that split off from the main route. This sort of thing happened sometimes, and usually Hagrid let well enough alone and stayed on the more travelled ways, but this particular offshoot piqued his interest. Something about it seemed to be drawing him, and while he wasn’t foolish enough to fall for the traps some of the wild things in the forest set out to lure unsuspecting students to their doom, Hagrid was certain he was supposed to follow this detour. With a shrug, he threw his bag over his shoulder and strode off down the path, wondering where it might take him.

Some of the wisest wizards had studied the Forbidden Forest, and one of them, Martentius Coodlesnoot, had a theory. He had come to the conclusion there was only one magical forest. What this meant was the Forbidden Forest was connected to every other magical forest on Earth, and possibly even in other worlds as well, so that all someone had to do was wander down the right path and they could wind up in India or Brazil or someplace else entirely. Of course, most people thought this was complete poppycock.

It turned out that Martentius Coodlesnoot was right.

Hagrid walked for about fifteen minutes, being careful not to stray from the path. He passed a great many trees so tall that he couldn’t make out their tops until finally he came to a clearing. Looking around, he grinned. No one else in their right mind would have, of course, because festooning the trees like bunting at a ball were thick spiderwebs of enormous size, as though a great many huge spiders had worked busily there for ages. None of them seemed to be about just now, but Hagrid thought he might have found exactly what he was looking for. He plunked himself down on the ground, pulled out a liverwurst sandwich from his bag, and began to eat it while he waited for the weavers to come back.

“Prob’ly shy li’l things,” he said, then looking at the size of the webs he corrected himself. “Big things, rather.”

He had eaten only half his sandwich when he heard a quiet scrabbling sound coming from far back in the woods. Remaining very still, he listened carefully, and soon he heard whatever it was scuttling up a tree, and from a few dead leaves floating on the breeze, he realized it was one a little to his right. Slowly, afraid of frightening it, he stood up and turned in the direction of the creature.

It shows exactly how horrifying the thing was that even Hagrid gasped a little at his first sight of the spider. It was even bigger than Aragog, and currently it was hanging upside-down from a thick strand of web, staring directly at him with several blood red eyes. He even contemplated slowly backing away when he noticed that at least one of the eyes was watering.

“’scuse me,” he said, using a gentle voice. “Are yeh hurt?”

The spider hissed menacingly.

“I’ll take tha’ as a yes,” he said. “I think I’ve got some drops in here as might help yeh.”

He patted his bag, and the spider clicked menacingly. Hagrid chuckled.

“Yeh sound jus’ like my friend Aragog when he’s in a snit,” Hagrid said. “He’s a spider, too. A biggun. Not quite so big as yeh, but he’s close.”

The spider paused at this, then, very suspiciously, it spoke.

“Are you a hobbit?” it asked.

“Nah,” Hagrid said. “I’m a Hagrid, not a hobbit, whatever tha’ is.”

“And you are much too tall for a hobbit,” the spider said, tipping its head to one side. “Have you a sword?”

“Don’ really use one in my line o’ work,” he said.

The spider seemed to be considering. As it swung there, Hagrid noticed a scar on its stomach.

“Did summat stab yeh?” Hagrid said, looking angry.

The spider nodded.

“An’ tha’s why yer scared o’ swords, poor thing,” Hagrid said sympathetically. “Well, don’ yeh worry none. There’s no hobbits or swords or anything else about ter harm yeh here. I won’ let ‘em.”

Rather faster than he was expecting, the spider shot down the tree trunk and straight at him, waving its front legs menacingly.

“Yeah, tha’s right, hello there,” Hagrid said, waving back and smiling.

The spider stopped, seeming confused.

“Hello?” it said uncertainly.

“Yer a brave one, I’ll give yeh tha’,” Hagrid said. “It’s only natural yeh’d want ter hide or fight some stranger pokin’ his nose into yer home after wha’ yeh’ve bin through. Take yer time. I don’ mean no harm.”

The spider stared at him.

“Are you mad?” she asked slowly.

“Nah, I’m not angry,” Hagrid said. “Why should I be? Anyway, I’ve got those drops fer yeh, if yeh want. What happened to yeh?”

“Light,” the spider said.

“Too bright, eh?” Hagrid said, rummaging through his bag for the eyedrops. “Yeah, tha’ can sting.”

At the word “sting,” the spider gave a low shriek and darted a few feet away, looking around in terror.

“Are yeh okay?” Hagrid asked in concern. “Did I say summat wrong?”

The spider seemed to gain control of itself again and shook its head.

“Merely an unfortunate coincidence,” it said, slowly slinking back towards him.

“Yeh’ve been mistreated, no mistake,” Hagrid said, shaking his head. “Poor thing.”

The spider still seemed completely befuddled by Hagrid, but it crept closer, then allowed him to put the drops into each of its eight eyes. It shook its head, as it didn’t have any eyelids, then looked at Hagrid again.

“Any better?” he asked kindly.

“Yes,” the spider hissed.

“Good,” Hagrid said, popping the bottle back in his bag. “Wan’ me ter take a look at tha’ scar yeh’ve got?”

The spider glanced down at its belly, then shrugged with four of its legs and allowed Hagrid to examine it.

“Looks pretty good,” he said with a smile. “No infection, anyway. Yer healin’ fine. Still, it’s rotten it happened ter yeh at all. Some people jus’ have it in fer interestin’ creatures.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” the spider said.

“Still, even wit’ the drops, yeh can’t see so good jus’ now. Could be dangerous fer yeh. Yeh got any family ter look after yeh?” Hagrid asked.

The spider looked around at the trees, then clicked its pincers again.

“All dead,” it said. “My children lived here, but a hobbit killed them.”

“Aw, now tha’s horrible!” Hagrid said, really angry. “I don’ rightly know what this hobbit thing is, but if I ever see one, they’d better run!”

The spider, who still seemed perplexed, took a step or two back from Hagrid.

“Maybe I won’t eat you,” it muttered to itself, though whether that was out of pity or because it thought his insanity might be catching was impossible to tell.

“Oh. Okay,” Hagrid said, shrugging in a way that suggested he hadn’t been aware that was a possibility but was glad it was now cleared up. “Anyway, since yeh don’ have anyone ter keep an eye on yeh, would yeh like ter come with me? I bet my friend Aragog’d love ter meet yeh!”

“Aragog?” the spider said.

“Yeah. He’s the spider I tol’ yeh about. Wha’s yer name?” he asked.

The spider looked around for a moment as though it was trying to decide something, then said, “Shelob.”

“Shelob, huh? Yer a girl, then? I don’ mean to be rude, but it’s hard fer humans to tell about spiders usually,” he said apologetically.

“Yes,” she said.



“Uh-huh,” he said, smiling wider. “So, will yeh come with me?”

“Are there hobbits there? Or elves?” Shelob asked.

“Nah. A few gnomes and some other creatures, but they won’ bother yeh none,” Hagrid said.

The spider looked around the clearing at the empty webs, then over her shoulder in the direction she had come from. Then, she nodded.

“Fine!” Hagrid said, grinning. “It’s jus’ this way.”

As they walked, the path slowly erased behind them until the link between worlds simply disappeared.

And that was how Shelob passed out of Middle Earth and found a new home in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts. She took the name Mosag for herself, saying she wanted to leave behind her old life. In a short time, she and Aragog were married, with Hagrid in attendance as best man, and not long after that an enormous egg case with thousands of eggs hung from one of the tallest trees in the forest. Their children and grandchildren grew up in the shade of the Forbidden Forest, and Hagrid was delighted with his old friend’s happiness.

Granted, the spiders did eat the occasional student, but then they really shouldn’t have gone into the forest in the first place, so that was on them.