The Secret in the Forest
Chapter 7 : The Secret in the Forest
The Forbidden Forest was cold and silent at night. Only the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant howl of an animal broke through the darkness.
Harry ran.
His heart pounded in his chest, but not just out of fear—out of tension. His wolf sensed the presence of pursuers, his instincts warned him. But this time, it wasn’t just any threat.
This time, it was Malfoy and his friends.
Damn snakes.
He had hoped they would give up, but they had followed him. He could hear their footsteps behind him, the quiet panting of Zabini, the muffled cursing of Pansy.
“Potter!” Draco’s voice was sharp. “Stop running!”
Harry tried to move faster, but his legs felt heavy.
The exhaustion that had been building up for days was catching up to him.
He was too tired.
Too weak.
His body couldn’t take it anymore.
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And then—
A branch in the way.
He stumbled.
Damn it!
He caught himself, staggered for a moment, but it was enough.
When he straightened again, Draco and the others were blocking his path.
Draco was breathing heavily, his gray eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Not so fast, Potter.”
Harry took a step back, his body tense like a coiled spring.
He felt cornered.
His wolf growled inside him.
The escape had failed.
He had to convince them to let him go.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice rough.
Draco laughed dryly. “That’s the best you can come up with? After all this?”
Harry gritted his teeth.
“You need to leave.”
Pansy crossed her arms. “Why? Because you say so?”
“Yes.”
Zabini shook his head. “That’s not how this works, Potter.”
Nott took a step closer, his eyes scrutinizing.
“What exactly are you hiding?”
Harry’s hands clenched into fists.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
The exhaustion was gnawing at him, his wolf was restless, his senses too sharp.
He just wanted … peace.
He closed his eyes.
Took a deep breath.
And let it happen.
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Draco froze as Potter suddenly started to change.
He recoiled as he saw his limbs shrink, his bones shift, his skin transform.
“What the …” Pansy whispered.
It only took a few seconds.
Where Harry Potter had stood just moments ago, now stood—
A wolf.
A breathtaking, snow-white wolf with glowing green eyes.
The silvery-white fur shimmered in the moonlight, every movement elegant and fluid.
Draco stared.
He couldn’t help it.
Zabini sucked in a sharp breath.
“Shit …”
Harry—or what was left of him—looked at them.
His eyes were the same.
Only … wilder.
Different.
Draco had no idea what to say.
Potter was a damn wolf.
And he had no clue what that meant.
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Harry didn’t know what to do.
He had no plan.
No escape route.
No strength.
He had hoped he could escape them. That they would give up.
But now they were here.
Their eyes were wide, full of disbelief and fascination.
He was exposed.
They had seen what he truly was.
They would tell Snape.
They would tell Dumbledore.
And then?
Then they might lock him up in the dungeons, study him, treat him like an experiment.
He could already see it.
He could hear it in his head.
Wizards and healers whispering about him. Holding him down. Asking him questions.
He felt invisible chains around his paws, the cold metal of a cage.
His wolf whimpered inside him.
He wanted to run.
But he couldn’t.
He was so exhausted.
Every fiber of his body screamed for rest.
He had no strength left, no energy to fight.
The exhaustion overwhelmed him.
So he did the only thing he could.
He gave up.
He let himself sink onto the damp forest floor, feeling the cool moss beneath his belly, the wet leaves under his paws.
He curled up.
His tail wrapped around his nose, his ears twitched slightly.
He could hear them whispering breathlessly.
“He … he actually transformed …”
“This is impossible …”
“That’s Potter?!”
But Harry didn’t care anymore.
His eyes slowly closed.
He just wanted to sleep.
Just for a few minutes.
Just for a moment.
Whatever happened next …
It would happen later.
For now … he was just tired.
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Draco stood in a circle with Zabini, Pansy, and Nott around the curled-up wolf.
None of them spoke.
None of them knew what to say.
Potter had turned into a damn wolf.
Holy shit.
That definitely didn’t happen every day.
The silence was only broken by the gentle rustling of leaves and Potter’s quiet breathing.
He was asleep.
Just like that.
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Draco opened his mouth, closed it again, then ran a hand through his hair.
“Well …” Zabini began slowly. “This is new.”
“No shit,” Pansy muttered.
They all stared at the small wolf curled up in the damp moss.
His fur was snow-white, almost silvery, just like Potter’s hair had been.
He was … small.
Not tiny, but not as big as Draco had expected either. More the size of a young wolf, not yet fully grown.
And he looked …
Not good.
Draco narrowed his eyes.
His fur wasn’t smooth but slightly unkempt, matted in some areas.
He was thin.
Not alarmingly so, but definitely not as strong as one would expect.
And then there were the dark shadows under his closed eyes.
“He looks … exhausted,” Nott finally said.
“And not exactly healthy,” Pansy added.
“No wonder if he’s sneaking around every night instead of sleeping,” Zabini remarked.
Draco frowned.
“That explains a lot,” he said slowly.
The constant exhaustion.
The hiding.
The attempts to avoid detention.
“He must have been doing this for a while,” he murmured.
Nott nodded. “And he didn’t expect us to catch him.”
Draco looked down at the sleeping wolf again.
Potter had laid down as if he simply had no strength left to fight back.
He hadn’t even defended his damn secret.
He had just … given up.
That left an unpleasant feeling in Draco’s chest.
“What do we do now?” Pansy finally asked.
Draco didn’t know.
But one thing was certain:
This was bigger than he had expected.
___________________________________________________
The night was silent.
Draco, Zabini, Pansy, and Nott sat in a circle around the small, snow-white wolf sleeping peacefully in the moss.
They had no idea what to do.
So they did the only thing that made sense: They let him sleep.
He looked like he hadn’t had proper rest in weeks.
Occasionally, his ears twitched, his breathing was deep and steady, but he didn’t move.
Pansy had suggested waking him once, but Draco had stopped her.
“He’ll wake up eventually,” he had said. “Let him.”
And so they kept watch over him.
Waited.
Wondered what the hell was going on.
With every passing moment, it became clearer that this wasn’t just some minor secret.
Potter hadn’t just gained a new ability.
He needed this.
He had willingly spent his nights in the forest—no matter the weather, in complete solitude—instead of sleeping in the castle.
Why?
Draco couldn’t say.
But the longer he watched the sleeping wolf, the more questions filled his mind.
As dawn slowly broke, they knew they had to make a decision.
They couldn’t stay any longer.
Their absence would be noticed.
Snape wasn’t stupid.
If he realized four Slytherins and Harry Potter were missing, he would investigate.
And that wouldn’t be good for anyone.
“We have to wake him,” Zabini finally said.
Draco sighed.
He picked up a small stick and tossed it gently at Harry’s side.
Nothing.
He threw another.
The wolf stirred.
Slowly, two glowing green eyes opened.
_____________________________________
For a moment, Harry just stared at them.
Then, it seemed to dawn on him where he was—and more importantly, with whom.
His ears flattened, his muscles tensed.
"Calm down, Potter," Draco said quickly, raising his hands. "We just wanted to wake you because… well… it's getting light, and we need to head back."
Harry's wolf eyes narrowed slightly.
He eyed the four of them warily, but he remained where he was.
Still somewhat groggy, he blinked and slowly lifted his head.
Draco could see the exhaustion in every movement he made.
"So?" Zabini asked after a moment of silence. "Is there going to be some grand, dramatic explanation, or should we just pretend this never happened?"
Harry remained silent.
Draco sighed.
"Whatever. Make up your mind quickly, Potter. If we don’t get back soon, we’re all going to be in trouble."
The wolf blinked once more. Then, without warning, his body began to change.
Limbs stretched, bones shifted, and within seconds, there was no wolf before them—only Harry Potter, crouching in a tattered cloak, his black hair messy and unkempt.
He looked tired.
Exhausted.
But also… resigned.
Running a hand down his face, he muttered, "You don’t tell anyone about this."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Not yet," Harry corrected, looking at him tiredly but firmly.
Draco studied him for a moment.
Then he shrugged.
"We’ll see."
He turned around.
"Come on, Potter. We have class."
And without another word, they made their way back to the castle.