Frida Kahlo What the Water Gave Me painting

Frida Kahlo What the Water Gave Me paintingFrida Kahlo The Suicide of Dorothy Hale painting
can drink to Aragog's mem-ory...”
"Did he?" said Hagrid, looking both astonished and touched. "Tha's — tha's righ' nice of him, that is, an' not turnin' yeh in ei-ther. I've never really had a lot ter do with Horace Slughorn before. .. . Comin' ter see old Aragog off, though, eh? Well. . . he’d've liked that, Aragog would. . . ."
Harry thought privately that what Aragog would have liked most about Slughorn was the ample amount of edible flesh he pro-vided, but he merely moved to the rear window of Hagrid's hut, where he saw the rather horrible sight of the enormous dead spider lying on its back outside, its legs curled and tangled.
"Are we going to bury him here, Hagrid, in your garden?"
"Jus' beyond the pumpkin patch, I thought," said Hagrid in a choked voice. "I've already dug the — yeh know — grave. Jus' thought we'd say a few nice things over him — happy memories, yeh know —"