âBlinding?â
Hagrid and Harry both tilted their heads back, scanning the sky for Mars.
As Ronan had mentioned, it wasnât difficult to findâa star so unnaturally bright it dominated the heavens.
âIt really is glaring,â Hagrid remarked, squinting at the celestial body before turning back to the centaur. âHave you seen anything strange around here lately? A unicornâs been injuredâdo you know anything about it?â
Ronan didnât respond directly. Instead, he spoke in the same enigmatic tone: âMars is particularly bright tonight.â
Hagrid sighed heavily, giving Harryâs shoulder a gentle pat. âSee what I mean? Thatâs centaurs for you. Never give a straight answerâalways got their eyes on the stars. Frustrating, isnât it? You ask about a unicorn, and theyâll talk about Mars instead. They never just say what they meanâ¦â
Riddlers, huh?
Harry hadnât spent much time conversing with centaurs; his interactions with them had been more... combative. He could still hear the echoes of their anguished screams from before.
There had been a time when heâd wondered if Veratia mightâve taken things too far. But now?
They deserved it.
This is the punishment riddlers earn!
âStill, their hearts are in the right place,â Hagrid continued, a faint chuckle in his voice. âThey may not be straightforward, but they care about this forest and all its creatures. Anyway, letâs keep moving.â
Leaving Ronan behind, who remained fixated on the stars, they continued their search.
âThey remind me of Professor Dumbledore,â Harry remarked, nudging a branch out of his way with his foot. âAlways speaking in riddles, never saying things outright.â
âNow that you mention itâ¦â Hagrid nodded thoughtfully, scanning the forest floor. âLook hereâunicorn blood, all over the ground. Even on the roots of the trees.â
They pressed forward until they came to a fork in the path.
Both trails were marked with fresh bloodâstreaks and glistening pools suggesting the unicorn hadnât gone far.
âWe should split up, Hagrid,â Harry suggested, his tone firm. âItâs badly injured; if we hurry, we might still save it.â
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âWellâ¦â Hagrid hesitated, torn between his desire to protect Harry and the urgency of finding the unicorn.
âDonât worry about me,â Harry reassured him. âIf anything happens, Iâll send up red sparks.â
Reluctantly, Hagrid nodded. âAlright. But take Fang with you. He may be a coward, but his instincts are sharp.â
Harry glanced down at the massive boarhound, skepticism plain on his face. You think itâs like Fiona, our phoenix? That itâll throw itself in front of a Killing Curse for me?
Still, he nodded. âAlright, Iâll bring Fang.â
âBe careful,â Hagrid urged, gripping his crossbow tightly as he headed down one path. Halfway, he turned back, his brow furrowed with concern. âYouâre sure about this? We could stick together.â
âThe unicorn doesnât have much time,â Harry replied resolutely.
Once Hagrid disappeared, Harry tucked his wand back into his robes, pulling out the one he had confiscated earlier.
With Fang reluctantly in tow, he followed the blood trail deeper into the forest.
The farther he went, the denser the trees became. Their gnarled branches wove together, blocking out most of the moonlight. The path narrowed, barely navigable.
The bloodstains grew sparser but more concentrated, pooling in silvery patches on the ground.
Fang whined nervously, pacing around Harryâs feet and tugging at his robes, as if pleading with him to turn back.
Harry ignored the dog, his focus unwavering.
Ahead, the trees gave way to a clearing, their ancient branches twisted into a canopy of shadows.
A soft, mournful whinny pierced the stillness.
Pushing through the last of the branches, Harry saw itâa radiant white unicorn, collapsed on the ground. Its coat, once pristine, was now stained with blood, and its eyes shimmered with a desperate plea for salvation.
Harry approached cautiously, keeping an eye on his surroundings. Fangâs incessant whining was grating.
âStupefy.â
The stunning spell silenced the dog, leaving it unconscious in a heap.
As the spell echoed through the forest, a rustling sound came from nearby bushes.
Harry froze, his wand aimed at the disturbance.
A moment later, a hooded figure emerged, moving with a serpentine grace that exuded menace.
It slithered toward the unicorn, its every movement deliberate, radiating an aura of malevolence.
Reaching the dying creature, the figure bent low, its hood obscuring its face, and began to drink deeply from the unicornâs wound.
The unicorn let out a heart-wrenching cry, its body convulsing in agony.
Pain exploded in Harryâs scar, searing and relentless, as if a brand had been pressed against his forehead. The last time it had hurt this much was when Sebastian had cast the Killing Curse.
Clenching his jaw against the pain, Harry raised his wand.
âStupefy!â
A jet of red light shot forward, striking the hooded figure and knocking it aside.
The unicornâs labored breaths quickened, a faint glimmer of hope returning to its eyes.
Harry advanced cautiously, his wand trained on the motionless figure.
But it wasnât over.
The figure rose slowly, its silhouette dark and foreboding, like Death itself. Had it held a scythe, the image would have been complete.
Harryâs scar throbbed violently, his vision blurring as his grip on the wand faltered.
The figure surged forward, a blur of shadow and malice.
A sudden voiceâethereal and faint, yet urgentârang in Harryâs mind: âRun!â
Ignoring the pain, Harry raised his wand again, his rage overtaking him.
âCrucio!â
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