Frida Kahlo The Frame painting

Frida Kahlo The Frame paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace painting
His voice quivered and broke. There was a knock on the door, and he turned to answer it, blowing his nose on his great spotted handkerchief as he did so. Slughorn hurried over the threshold, several bottles in his arms, and wearing a somber black cravat.
"Hagrid," he said, in a deep, grave voice. "So very sorry to hear of your loss."
"Tha's very nice of yeh," said Hagrid. "Thanks a lot. An' thanks fer not givin Harry detention neither. . . ."
"Wouldn't have dreamed of it," said Slughorn. "Sad night, sad night. . . Where is the poor creature?"
"Out here," said Hagrid in a shaking voice. "Shall we — shall we do it, then?"
The three of them stepped out into the back garden. The moon was glistening palely through the trees now, and its rays mingled with the light spilling from Hagrid's window to illuminate Aragogs body lying on the edge of a massive pit beside a ten-foot- high mound of freshly dug earth.