First off, I am so sorry for not starting this sooner. I really don't have any excuses. I WILL have the next update up in a week. If I do not, pelt me with flames until I burn.

If you haven't read Behind and Between, you might be a bit confused.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley... you get the picture. Please don't sue me.

There may be in the cup
A spider steeped, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom
- The Winter's Tale 2.1, William Shakespeare

He ran.

Spellfire exploded behind him, colliding with the walls. Destruction followed where they touched. He cursed silently as another hex almost grazed his shoulder. Ducking and dodging, he snarled softly.

If it were only him, he might not be fighting so ferociously. But it wasn't only him, there were so many others relying on him, though they didn't know it. The fate of his people depended on his success, on the information he had to offer them.

But if they caught him, if they imprisoned the intruder in their secret records, as surely they would, his people would never know what he had learned. They would continue in misery until the end of time.

Therefore, he couldn't be caught. He had to escape.

He had to hide!

The man doubled back, plowing into his pursuer. Aurors, even foreign ones, were trained to exchange spells, not physical combat. She wasn't expecting his unconventional attack.

Grimacing, the fugitive charged into another hallway, one the guards had already gone through. He'd spent enough time scouting out this place that he knew where to go from here. Left, right, left again, and he was out.

Worried, the man looked back at the place he'd escaped. He'd taken out the lights early on. Right after the startled clerk had found him with the records. Hopefully no one had seen his face.

Tyr Ulfhednar, Alpha of Great Britain's werewolf pack, smiled grimly. He hadn't found what he was looking for….

But he knew where to find it.

Rubeus Hagrid was almost dancing with excitement.

Last Halloween, he had fallen in love with the most beautiful, gentle, and amazing woman in the entire world. Admittedly, they had only met once, and most of that meeting had involved her dragging him through the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night, but he just knew that they were meant to be. She was obviously not human, just like him, and she had saved Norberta's life. In fact, he was certain that she had also saved a group of human girls from the clutches of Lucius Malfoy. She was a heroine!

And he was going to see her again today!

At least, he hoped so. On Halloween, he'd asked her to come back and see how Norberta was doing. Hagrid had mistaken her for one of the legendary Fae, for what other race had those amazing golden eyes? Since the Fae could only come out three nights of the year, he'd asked her to return on Beltane. Now, though, he knew that she wasn't a Fae because she had saved Malfoy's victims on a normal, non-magical day. Hagrid still wasn't sure what she was, but he didn't care. He loved her anyways.

So why couldn't Hermione understand that?

The bushy-haired Ravenclaw glared. "Hagrid," she hissed for the billionth time, "you've only met this Saysa once! You don't know anything about her except that she has a soft spot for your pet dragon. This is hardly the basis for a passionate romance."

Naturally, her protests went in one ear and out the other. "Yeh should meet her, Hermione," the besotted half-giant said solemnly. "Then yeh'd see what I mean."

The witch rolled her eyes. She had met Saysa, several times in fact; the two females talked at least six times a week. She knew the basilisk well enough to confidently say that Saysa was not interested at all in romantic entanglements. Besides, between the age difference, snake thing, and the fact that she had gotten Hagrid expelled, it would never work out.

"No, thank you Hagrid." It would be beyond awkward to intrude on their meeting- a meeting which Hagrid thought was a date.

That didn't mean she wouldn't spy, though. Harry cast a very powerful Disillusionment Charm.

"At the very least change into something more presentable," she sniffed, gesturing at the older mage's hideous orange-checked coat and unnaturally slick beard.

"I'm presentable," her friend growled. Hermione decided not to push it.

By the time Harry had enchanted her, their favorite giant's appearance had actually deteriorated. He'd somehow found a corsage of oversized daisies and pinned it awkwardly to his too-high collar. Another bouquet of mismatched flowers and a clumsy wooden flute were in his hands. Even worse, he was sweating buckets.

Poor man, Hermione thought. He's going to humiliate himself. She briefly considered Stunning him before deciding against it. Hagrid needed to learn that he and Saysa could never be together, and the sooner the better. She followed the nervous man into the Forbidden Forest.

Most Hogwarts students were afraid of the vast woods, but not Hermione. She and her friends were under the protection of the local centaur herd and the Queen of Serpents. Not even the darkest creatures would harm them.

Saysa was waiting for him in a tiny clearing, and Hermione silently cursed her choice of location. The early spring sun pierced the barren branches in a golden shaft of light, making her more beautiful than ever.

"H-h-hullo, Miss Saysa." Hagrid's voice cracked on the last syllable, and his face reddened like a cherry.

Saysa smiled at him, careful not to reveal her pointed teeth. "Hello, Rubeus. How have you faired these past months?"

"Jes' fine. Er- fine Norberta too. I mean, Norberta's fine too." The poor man was blushing to the roots of his hair.

The serpent-woman grew aware that she was making him uncomfortable. "That's wonderful," she murmured, and began walking through the forest.

"Wait!" shouted Hagrid. Saysa turned. "I- flowers!" He jerked them forward with such force that several petals fell off. Hermione hid her face, half-expecting the groundskeeper to drop dead then and there of mortification. Needless to say, he came very close, stuttering and stammering like a fool.

"Are you certain you're all right? Perhaps you should visit a healer."

Mumble. Hermione couldn't hear it, but she assumed that he assured her he was fine. Then, shyly, "I've got somethin' ter show yeh."

"Oh?" The two humanoids, followed by the Disillusioned Hermione, meandered deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

"Well, it's no' really a somethin'. It's someone."

The Ravenclaw was beginning to get nervous. What if Hagrid introduced her to the centaurs? Hopefully the herd would have common sense enough not to mention that they knew her already, but one never knew. All it would take was one little foal greeting her by title and even the oblivious half-giant would know something was up.

Even worse, Hagrid couldn't keep secrets. It was a miracle that no one but the prophesied five and Dumbledore knew he'd met Saysa. It was even more of a miracle that Hagrid had only told three people; Saysa herself had done the rest of the telling.

"His name's Aragog," the large man continued. Behind him, Hermione frantically thought through all the centaur names she'd heard. Aragog wasn't familiar; it wasn't even remotely similar to the other names. Centaur names were Gaelic or Greek. Aragog derived from neither language.

"Aragog's been my mate since I was twelve. 'e's always been there fer me, y'know? An' he's got a wife Mosag and lots o' kids an' grandkids. They're sweet li'le things. Yeh'll like them."

"I'm certain that I will."

They continued walking and chatting, Hagrid mumbling inanities and Saysa trying (and failing) to put him at ease. Once, during a long stretch of flat path, the wizard took out his crudely carved flute. Much to Hermione's horror, he immediately began playing "Greensleeves."

Fortunately, Saysa didn't seem to recognize the tune. Even if she had, she probably wouldn't have made the connection between a love song addressed to a woman in green and Hagrid's feelings for her. Living in isolation for almost a thousand years had severely dampened her social skills, especially when it came to romance. By the time she'd been born, the Founders had already been married, and she hadn't seen their children fall in love. The basilisk had no experience with courtship.

Simply put, she was incapable of correctly interpreting the besotted look on Hagrid's face.

They'd been walking perhaps an hour, Hermione jogging behind to match the adults' longer stride (Firenze's lessons really did pay off) when the Ravenclaw realized that she didn't know where they were. That was unusual; she'd been wandering the forest for months and had learned to navigate most of the centaur territories.

Even worse, this part of the woods oozed darkness. The barren trees seemed to claw at the skies, reaching out to kidnap the clouds. The shadows were longer than they had any right to be. Most telling of all, though, was the utter silence.

Hermione had grown up in Somerset. While it wasn't enormous, per se, it hustled and bustled perpetually with the inevitable sounds of tourism and travel. Hogwarts was quieter, but she'd only experienced true silence in the Chamber of Secrets and the castle on Founder's Isle before Dudley and Sirius had arrived. Now only the Chamber and secret coasts of the isle remained.

The Forbidden Forest should have been bursting with birdsong, especially in the early spring. Twigs should be cracking and squirrels chattering and little invisible creatures darting around just out of sight. This place, though, was utterly, inexplicably, frighteningly silent.

She began to wonder if following them had been a good idea.

Saysa, too, hesitated. "Rubeus, are you certain that this area is safe?"

"Oh, o' course!" the huge man bubbled. "We're almos' to Aragog's home now."

A nasty thought occurred to Hermione. She'd accepted from the get-go that Aragog wasn't human; humans didn't inhabit the forest. If this was the abode of Aragog (and his wife Mosag, and their children, and their grandchildren), it stood to reason that Hagrid's mysterious friend was the reason for the forest's unnatural silence.

What kind of horrible beast had Hagrid befriended this time?

Well, she consoled herself, at least it couldn't possibly be another dragon. Of course, that might be a bad thing- no dragon would attack a basilisk, even a disguised one.

The Ravenclaw sighed. Since Hagrid was determined to kill them all, she had best find some way to stop him.

According to Harry, Firenze, and her favorite history books, a warrior should always take the high ground. Hermione silently cast the muffliato charm on her shoes then charged ahead of her friends, looking for a little rise or knoll. Upon cresting the miniature hill, she froze.

She had found Aragog.

Spiders swarmed before her, huge and black and hairy. Arm-length pincers shone in the morning light. Colossal muscular legs sprouted from oversized dark bodies, all covered in night-colored bristles. Eyes like sickly grapes clustered atop their heads.

Their home was equally nightmarish. The rise Hermione stood on was part of a bowl-shaped mound that surrounded the spiders in a rough circle. The trees within were long-dead, shrouded in cobwebs like tormented mummies. Spiders hung from the branches, busily pulling in their next meal. Hermione shuddered. That silk-wrapped bundle was almost the size of a child….

How anyone, much less the loose-lipped Hagrid, had managed to raise an army of acromantulas just a few miles from hundreds of schoolchildren was a mystery she would have to ignore for the moment. All that really mattered was running back and rescuing them both before Aragog ate them alive.

Too late. Hagrid's bushy head crested the knoll, followed by Saysa's smoother locks. The spiders stopped as one. A murmur ran through them. Again acting as one, the monsters turned their horrendous eyes to the basilisk.

Something tickled the back of her mind, something about spiders and basilisks. Then she remembered.

"Oh, bugger."

"Hullo, everyone," Hagrid saluted, somehow oblivious to the palpably tense atmosphere. "This 'ere is Saysa, the one I've been tellin' yeh abou'."

Hermione would never learn what made the spiders overcome their natural aversion to Saysa to the extent of attacking her. Perhaps they simply panicked at her invasion of their ancestral home. Perhaps their hatred was stronger than their fear. Perhaps they thought that she was powerless in human form, that Hagrid had brought her as a gift. All she knew was that the lead spider, presumably Aragog, took one look at Saysa and screamed, "DESTROY THE BEAST!"

The acromantulas charged.

Hagrid, naïve fool that he was, couldn't believe it. His beloved friends would never hurt his soul mate. As such, he remained still when the spiders swarmed past him, right at Saysa.

The basilisk hissed, her face contorting in fury. For a moment, her entire being rippled; only Hagrid's presence restrained her from her true serpentine form. Instead she loosed a terrifying Pictish war-cry and began slashing her attackers with a pair of long daggers, gifts from the dwarf king.

Saysa might be trapped in human flesh and unable to access her killing stare, but she was far from helpless. Her eyes might not kill, but they could still Petrify. Whirling around, thrusting at anything that got too close, she loosed her innate serpent magic. Dozens of charging spiders turned to stone, halting the advance for precious seconds before their comrades swarmed over their frozen forms.

Hagrid recovered enough to shout out, "Don' hurt them!"

The serpent-woman faced him with a "you have got to be kidding me" stare. "Run!" she cried, grabbing the half-giant's arm and dragging him away.

"I don' unnerstan'- they're normally so gentle-"

"They must not like me," his companion deadpanned. The two took off running, pursued by the writhing mass of spiders.

Hermione charged after them, shifting into Pallas's slightly taller form for her longer legs, aiming deadly spells into their midst. Here a spider froze; its cousin exploded, showering everything nearby with gore. It was a good thing Harry had insisted on teaching them several of Voldemort's nastier hexes.

Unfortunately, her barrage alerted the spiders to their pursuit. A small group of stragglers broke off, ran towards her. Hermione fought back a scream. Harry's Disillusionment Charms were phenomenal, but would they hold?

Wingardium leviosa, the witch thought, concentrating with all her might.

A branch snapped to her right. The spiders, thinking their prey was escaping, ran over to the sound.

Hermione stared after them for long precious seconds then shook herself, Hagrid and Saysa were still being pursued, and neither of them had a wand. She wasn't a very fast runner, she probably couldn't catch up, but she had to try.

One of the best things about Gilderoy Lockhart was how much he annoyed Snape. The man didn't do it on purpose; it was simply innate, like breathing or digestion. Hidden underneath his father's Invisibility Cloak, Mark stifled a laugh at their latest argument.

This week's subject was hair care. One of Gilderoy's top ambitions was to open his own line of toiletry products, and he thought that Snape would be a perfect model for his advertisements. "I can see it now," the professor enthused, "on one side, you as you are today, with filthy matted tresses all covered in slime and a caption reading 'before.' Then on the 'after' side-"

"No."

"Think of the money! The fame! The adoring witches!"

"No."

They were walking on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Lockhart, at least, was enjoying the beautiful spring day. Mark wasn't sure what Snape was doing outside, probably hiding from the other teacher. It hadn't worked, of course; Gilderoy had an almost preternatural ability to hunt people down.

Snape spun on his heel, moving towards the shadowy trees. Gilderoy frowned. "Why go there? You have nothing to fear with me around, of course, but there's no sense in seeking out danger."

"Is that not what you do for a living?" sneered the other man.

Gilderoy huffed. "You know, Severus, I believe you're trying to avoid me."

"However did you get that impression?" The Potions Master had paused, angrily facing his colleague. One stood in the sun, the other stalked the shadows. Mark plopped onto the ground. This was going to be good; too bad he didn't have any popcorn.

A few other students had the same idea. Lockhart's hair-care campaign and Snape's role in it were already campus legends. Besides, the snow was gone and the sun was shining. Why wouldn't they be outside?

It was because of the weather that so many people witnessed the Event.

A demon lunged out of the shadows, followed by other smaller beasts. In form they were giant spiders, black and terrible; in ferocity they were rabid lions. The horde fell upon Snape's stunned, frozen form, biting and tearing with their oversized pinchers.

Mark looked up at his hero. He'd never seen Lockhart in action before, but he knew it was a sight to behold.

Gilderoy let out a high-pitched, almost girlish shriek of terror. Kilting up his violet robes, the Defense professor tried to run, but he was mown down just like Snape. Cries for mercy and wails of despair echoed from under the two spider piles.

The Boy-Who-Lived was stunned. Where was the valor, the stunning heroics? How had the spiders overcome his mentor so easily?

There was a hideous wet chomping noise. Snape cried out.

Then an orange-checked blur charged towards the fallen professors, bellowing at the top of its lungs. The spiders looked up- and froze. For a moment Mark thought they were paralyzed with fear of Hagrid, but then he realized that they were just paralyzed. The huge man could drag them off Lockhart and Snape without difficulty. Horrified, he stared at the ragged bodies, hands tightening convulsively around the spider he was holding.

Then, in a flash of fire, Dumbledore was there. Fawkes perched on his shoulder. The phoenix took one look at the situation and fluttered over to Snape, who seemed to be in worse shape than Lockhart (if such a thing was possible). Beautiful head arched over his body, Fawkes began to sob.

The tears from his eyes were gorgeous, liquid crystals, diamond dust dissolved in water. Mark felt that they'd been wasted on Snape. Something Harry had said once about phoenix tears tickled the back of Mark's mind, but he was too stunned to remember.

The beautiful bird soon turned his attention to Lockhart, who was far more deserving. Or was he? He hadn't attacked the spider monsters like he was supposed to. He'd just stood there.

And so had Mark.

The realization made him go cold. Admittedly, he wouldn't suffer the loss of reputation; he'd been under his Invisibility Cloak at the time. But still… people had needed him, and he had failed.

That Mark was himself only twelve years old didn't cross his mind. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, after all.

For a second, Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to his young charge. Disappointment crossed the ancient face, and Mark fled in shame.

He was supposed to be the hero, and he'd just stood by.

...I can't believe I just fed them to acromantulas.

Oh well. I don't like them anyways. Too bad this didn't kill them.

-Antares