Chapter 75: This Is No Ordinary Poacher, Time to Strike Hard!

After a unanimous vote in the Dueling Club, everyone collectively decided to ban Seamus from using explosive spells in the Room of Requirement.

This guy was truly something else—he couldn’t master most spells, yet when it came to explosive ones, he picked them up instantly...

“I can’t imagine what would happen if you used one on someone, Seamus,” Ron said, his voice dry with unease.

But Harry had noticed something important: Seamus’s explosion spells, while loud and visually intimidating, lacked the raw power of those cast by adult wizards—adult wizards, to be specific.

Even so, for a first-year wizard, Seamus’s level was top-notch.

It was the kind of skill that would have impressed even Sebastian a century ago.

Seamus, however, was quite regretful. All he could do now was practice Expelliarmus repeatedly, trying to turn his “hand grenades” into “wand grenades.”

“You guys are amazing...” Neville said enviously. “I’m so dumb. Even after Hermione’s been teaching me for so long, I still can’t get the hang of it.”

“Everyone has their own strengths, Neville,” Harry said encouragingly. “I think you have a natural talent for Herbology. Look, remember that biting cabbage Professor Sprout gave me? You’ve taken care of it so well that it even bit Quirrell on the forehead and wouldn’t let go.”

“But that’s just raising plants. It’s no use in a duel,” Neville said dejectedly, squatting on the ground.

“Who says so, Neville?” Harry laughed, sitting down beside him. “Magical plants can help in combat too. Just imagine throwing ten biting cabbages at your enemy during a fight—trust me, most wizards wouldn’t escape unscathed.”

“Really?” Neville’s eyes began to shine with hope.

“Of course! And biting cabbages aren’t the only combat-capable magical plants,” Harry said. “Look, there’s also something called a mandrake—Hermione?”

Catching Harry’s cue, Hermione chimed in, “The books say that when you pull a mandrake out of the ground, its humanoid roots emit an ear-piercing scream that can stun or even kill.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, smiling to reassure Neville. “Imagine surprising your opponent in a battle with a screaming mandrake—or better yet, recording its scream into a Howler!”

As Harry spoke, Neville’s eyes grew brighter and brighter.

“You’re right, Harry,” Neville said, his gaze firming up. “I think I’ll follow your advice. I really do like Herbology.”

“At the same time, don’t neglect your spell practice,” Harry added, patting Neville on the shoulder. “Spells are the foundation of every wizard’s survival.”

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Buoyed by Harry’s encouragement, Neville regained his motivation and resumed practicing spells. By the time Harry had to head to Hagrid’s for his detention, Neville had barely managed to cast a Disarming Charm—albeit inconsistently.

Still, Harry was satisfied with the progress. After all, Neville wasn’t a natural talent.

Before leaving, Harry handed Neville some seeds, entrusting him with the care and cultivation of the biting cabbages.

When preparing for the Forbidden Forest, Harry retrieved Dawimer’s wand from his belongings.

Thanks to the existence of spell-tracing charms, using his own wand risked exposing the spells he cast.

Carrying Dawimer’s wand was a precaution. If he encountered danger in the Forbidden Forest, he could cast harmless little jinxes—right?

Tucking the wand securely into his robes, Harry left the Gryffindor common room.

Ron and the others were waiting for him in the entrance hall. When he came down, Ron approached him and said, “Harry, we’ll walk you there.”

“No need,” Harry said. “It’s freezing outside. Go back and rest.”

“It’s so late already—you really shouldn’t go to the Forbidden Forest,” Neville muttered. “My gran told me stories about it... there’s all sorts of things in there, even werewolves...”

“That’s it! I’m going to find Professor Dumbledore!” Hermione exclaimed, turning to head toward the stairs.

Ron grabbed her arm. “Dumbledore might not even be in his office, and even if he is, he might not listen to you. Besides, don’t you remember? Harry defeated a troll! I’d worry more about the werewolves than about Harry.”

“Oh, thank you, Ronald,” Hermione said sarcastically. “Your best friend is heading into the Forbidden Forest, and you still have the nerve to joke!”

“Harry, Ron, Hermione?” Hagrid’s voice boomed from outside the entrance. He ducked into the hall, towering over everyone. “Oh, Seamus and Neville too, eh?”

The five kids looked up. Hagrid, carrying a massive stone bow and a quiver full of arrows, cut an imposing figure, and his presence made them feel significantly safer.

“At least Hagrid’s here,” Hermione whispered. She turned to Harry and said, “We’ll head back now, but you and Hagrid must be careful. If there’s danger, run immediately.”

“Got it, Hermione,” Harry said with a smile. After bidding farewell to the others, he followed Hagrid out the door.

“Filch didn’t want to come fetch you, so I did,” Hagrid said as they walked. “That old codger... don’t let him get to you. He’s scared of you now. Always picking on the weak but backing down from the strong. But you know what? It’s a good thing. Since You-Know-Who fell, Hogwarts has been cleaning up its act. A lot of old rules are gone, and Filch lost the power to punish students physically—I heard Ron’s dad, Arthur, still has scars from when the caretaker back in his day whipped him.”

“You know about that?” Harry asked, intrigued. He was aware Hogwarts caretakers once had that authority, but it seemed the current staff were more hesitant to enforce such measures on their generation.

“Molly mentions it often, usually to discipline her kids. Not that it works—you’ve seen how Fred and George turned out,” Hagrid chuckled.

Harry thought of the Weasley twins’ antics and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“All right, here we are,” Hagrid said, raising his lantern high at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He pointed to a winding path leading deeper into the dense woods. “See those silvery stains on the ground? That’s unicorn blood. A unicorn’s been injured in the forest—this is the second one this week. Here, no one would harm such a sacred creature except a poacher. We need to find that poor unicorn and put it out of its misery.”

Poachers?

Harry’s heart raced with excitement, his eyes gleaming.

Anyone daring to harm a unicorn wasn’t just an ordinary poacher—they needed to be dealt with decisively!

He smiled innocently, the picture of harmlessness.

“Well then, why not find the poacher and put them out of their misery?”

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