The Forbidden Forest
Percy led them down to the first floor, straight into Professor McGonagall's office. The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the ticking of an old clock on a shelf. The students sat stiffly on wooden chairs, not exchanging a single word. Hermione was trembling slightly, while Neville didn’t dare to look up. Parvati stared at an indefinite spot on the floor, pale as a sheet. Harry, meanwhile, tried to think of a plausible excuse, but every idea seemed weaker than the last.
The door burst open with a sharp crack, making them all jump. Professor McGonagall entered, towering and furious. Filch followed behind her, his expression a mix of smug satisfaction and anger, but he left with Percy after a brief moment.
“I never expected this from you,” began McGonagall, her voice as sharp as ice. Her eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, then to Neville and Parvati. “Filch tells me you were on the Astronomy Tower at this hour. One in the morning! I demand an explanation.”
For the first time in her life, Hermione couldn’t answer a teacher’s question. She simply stared at her slippers, mute and motionless. Neville seemed equally unable to speak. Parvati opened her mouth but closed it immediately, incapable of forming a coherent sentence.
Harry decided to speak. “Professor, we weren’t—”
“I don’t want to hear excuses!” McGonagall interrupted sharply, her tone silencing him too. “I think I know exactly what happened. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You told Malfoy some ridiculous story about a dragon, hoping to lure him out of bed and get him punished. Then, to complete your little prank, you even locked Filch and Mrs. Norris in a classroom!”
Harry felt a surge of anger rising within him. It wasn’t fair. They hadn’t done anything of the sort. For all he knew, Malfoy had been caught because of him, not because of some prank.
“Prove it,” he said suddenly, his voice sharper and more acidic than he had intended. “If you’re so sure we locked up Filch and Mrs. Norris, prove it.”
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Hermione and Neville stared at him in shock, while Parvati made a strangled sound, as if begging him to stop. Even Percy looked alarmed by Harry’s audacity.
Professor McGonagall remained silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing to slits. When she spoke, her voice was colder than ever. “Potter, you’re treading on very thin ice.”
Harry didn’t lower his gaze but didn’t respond.
“I don’t need proof, because your behavior speaks volumes. You have no respect for this school’s rules. And even if I can’t prove you locked up Filch and his cat, the fact that you were out of bed and on the Astronomy Tower is more than enough.”
Harry clenched his fists as McGonagall continued.
“I am appalled. Four Gryffindor students roaming the castle in the dead of night. And you, Miss Granger, I thought you were more intelligent. And you, Potter, I thought the name of Gryffindor meant something to you. But evidently, I was wrong.”
She turned to Parvati, who looked ready to argue. “And I don’t care what Malfoy says. The fact that you’re involved is shameful enough.”
She faced them again. “Thirty points. Each of you. That’s one hundred and twenty points lost. And you’ll all serve detention.”
Neville’s jaw dropped. “A hundred and twenty points?”
“Professor, you can’t…” Harry began.
“You will not tell me what I can or cannot do, Potter!” McGonagall snapped. “I have never been so ashamed of students in my House. Return to your dormitories immediately.”
One hundred and twenty points lost! Gryffindor had plummeted to the bottom of the House standings, and the Common Room felt like it was draped in mourning. Harry felt as though the world had collapsed around him. How could they ever make up for such a disaster? He had expected the worst, but seeing the enormous hourglasses that tracked House points, with Gryffindor’s rubies drastically diminished, hurt more than he had imagined.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. Neville sobbed into his pillow, and Harry didn’t know what to say to console him. He felt just as guilty. When dawn came, the dread of facing his fellow students crept into him like poison.
But that morning, something unexpected happened. As Harry walked toward the Common Room, the rest of the first-year Gryffindors approached him. Ron, Seamus, Dean, Lavender—they didn’t look angry. Instead, they stood by him.
“It’s not your fault we lost the points, Harry,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “We’re all responsible. Lavender, Seamus, and I just got lucky…”
Seamus nodded beside him. “If they’d caught us, we’d be in trouble too.”
“And besides, it’s not your fault McGonagall was so harsh,” added Lavender, trying to smile. “She overreacted.”
Harry looked at them, feeling a weight lift slightly. He wasn’t entirely alone, at least not with them. But he couldn’t help but feel terrible about disappointing his godfather. By now, Sirius would know about everything, as McGonagall must have notified their families. He could already imagine the Howler from Neville’s grandmother.
Later that day, when Hedwig returned with a letter from Sirius, Harry’s heart felt heavy. He dreaded his godfather’s reaction. With trembling hands, he opened the letter and devoured the words written in the familiar handwriting:
Dear Harry,
One hundred and twenty points lost in a single night? That’s no small feat. Congratulations on setting a record that even your father and I couldn’t break back in our day. James would’ve been proud… well, sort of. Actually, maybe not. But I can tell you that he and I pulled off worse. The difference is, we usually didn’t get caught. So here’s the first bit of advice: never leave the Invisibility Cloak lying around. James is probably rolling in his grave over that one.
But now, let’s get serious (yes, it happens occasionally, believe it or not): this wasn’t your fault. It never was. Hagrid is a good man, but he acted irresponsibly. He put you in an impossible position, and you did your best to handle it without anyone getting hurt. Don’t blame yourself for this.
Listen to me, Harry. I’m not angry with you, and you shouldn’t be angry with yourself. I’m furious with Hagrid, though. I’ve known him for years, but this time he’s gone too far. I’m already writing to Dumbledore and McGonagall to set things straight, and Hagrid will get the scolding of his life. Don’t worry about this anymore. I’ll take care of it.
That said, I want you to remember something: losing points for Gryffindor isn’t the end of the world. It’s just an hourglass with some colored stones, nothing more. Gryffindor isn’t great because of the points—it’s great because of the people in it. And you, Harry, are more important than any trophy. Don’t let this bring you down.
Hang in there, kid. The world is full of challenges bigger than a half-empty hourglass. Oh, and promise me that from now on, if Hagrid says he has a “fantastic idea,” you’ll take a moment to think twice.
Love,
Sirius
Harry reread the letter several times, drawing comfort from Sirius’s words. Even though he knew his godfather was right, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had handled everything poorly. Perhaps, if he had found another way, they could have avoided the punishment. But now it was too late. Despite the support of his closest friends, the rest of the school wasn’t as understanding. Gryffindor had lost any hope of winning the House Cup, and the other students didn’t hesitate to express their displeasure. Even Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, usually more neutral, didn’t hide their resentment.
“Thanks, Potter!” a Slytherin boy shouted as Harry crossed the courtyard. “We owe you one!”
The snickers and remarks never stopped, and even Harry’s Quidditch teammates began avoiding him. During practice, no one spoke to him, and if they referred to him, they simply called him “the Seeker.”
Hermione wasn’t faring much better. She had stopped participating actively in lessons, preferring to study in silence, while Neville avoided eye contact with anyone. Parvati did her best to smile and cheer everyone up, but even she seemed troubled.
Quidditch wasn’t much of a refuge either. After yet another frosty practice, Harry approached the Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood.
“Resign?” Wood roared when Harry offered to quit the team. “And what good would that do? How do you think we’ll win back points if we don’t win matches? Don’t be ridiculous, Potter.”
But even Quidditch didn’t seem fun anymore. Harry felt trapped, and each passing day made the pressure harder to bear.
Despite it all, Sirius’s letter gave him a glimmer of hope. Maybe not everything was lost. Maybe, with time, things would get better. But for now, the weight of the one hundred and twenty lost points hung over him like a stone.
Harry was almost relieved that exams weren’t far off. Studying kept him busy and gave him a way to take his mind off the weight of the one hundred and twenty lost points and the scorn of much of the school. He, Ron, and Hermione spent their evenings with the rest of the first-year Gryffindors, studying late into the night in the Common Room. The tables were scattered with parchment, quills, and open books, while Dean doodled diagrams for Charms on the back of an old assignment, and Parvati tested little mnemonic tricks to remember the moons of Jupiter.
“What are moons?” muttered Neville in frustration as Parvati repeated the main names for the third time.
One evening, however, Harry found himself walking back from the library alone. He was mulling over his Herbology notes when he heard a voice coming from a nearby classroom. He stopped, holding his breath.
“No, no, not again, please…” Quirrell’s voice was broken, almost pleading. Harry stepped closer, his heart pounding. It sounded like someone was threatening the professor.
“All right… all right,” Quirrell sobbed. Then, a moment later, he came rushing out of the classroom, his turban askew and his face paler than ever. He didn’t even seem to notice Harry as he hurried down the corridor.
Harry approached the door, peering inside. The classroom was empty, but on the opposite side, a door stood ajar. For a moment, he wondered what to do. Then, remembering his promise not to get involved again, he turned on his heel and returned to the Common Room.
When Harry told the group about it that evening, a heated debate broke out.
“So Snape’s done it,” Ron said, his eyes gleaming with the light of adventure. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his enchantment…”
“I still don’t think it’s Snape,” Lavender interjected, crossing her arms. “We can’t keep blaming him for everything. What if it was someone else?”
“Lavender, who else could frighten Quirrell like that?” Ron retorted, tilting his head. “Snape’s always been suspicious.”
“We don’t know that,” Lavender insisted. “Maybe someone’s trying to make it look like him.”
“Makes sense,” Seamus agreed, always ready to back Lavender. “We can’t jump to conclusions without evidence.”
“But Snape’s behavior,” Parvati began hesitantly. “Lavender, you can’t deny that he always… seems to know too much.”
“She’s right,” Hermione said firmly, staring them all down. “We have no proof. Going to Dumbledore with nothing concrete won’t do any good. And besides, how would we explain what we know? We’re not even supposed to know the Stone exists.”
Neville, who had been silent until now, raised a timid hand. “Maybe we should just… stop thinking about it. I don’t want what happened with the points to happen again.”
Ron took it as a provocation. “Neville, we can’t ignore this! Something big might happen.”
“But if it really is Snape,” Dean said, “how would he get past Fluffy? He’d need something Hagrid hasn’t told us…”
Hermione raised a hand, cutting off the discussion. “Enough! Harry’s right. We can’t investigate. We can’t afford to get involved again.”
“What if it’s important?” Parvati asked, her voice higher than usual.
“I don’t want to know!” Harry exclaimed, throwing a book in front of him. “We’ve caused enough trouble already. We need to focus on exams.”
The group fell silent, though none of them seemed truly satisfied.
The next morning, Harry, Hermione, Parvati, and Neville sat down at the breakfast table to find messages addressed to them. They were all identical and read:
As punishment, you will serve detention starting at eleven o’clock tonight. Report to Mr. Filch in the Entrance Hall.
Professor McGonagall
That evening, as they descended to the Entrance Hall, Harry braced himself for the worst. But he didn’t know that the night would bring more answers than he was looking for.
At eleven o’clock, Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Parvati left the Common Room to head to the Entrance Hall, where Filch was waiting for them. Ron, Seamus, Lavender, and Dean had accompanied them to the door to encourage them.
“Don’t let anything big eat you,” Seamus said with a nervous smile.
When they arrived, they saw Filch with his usual sour expression, holding a lantern. Beside him, Malfoy waited with an air of barely concealed superiority.
“Oh, look, my fellow detainees,” Malfoy said sarcastically. “I was sure you’d never manage to do anything clever, but at least you’ve gifted us with this lovely evening.”
Filch lit the lantern, casting a yellowish glow over the group. “Follow me,” he said in his usual dry, grating voice. “It’ll be a long night.”
As they stepped into the darkness, Harry felt the weight of the night ahead pressing on him. They had avoided getting involved in further adventures for now, but dangers awaited them in the Forbidden Forest that they could not yet imagine.
Filch led them across the dark grounds. Neville sniffled, and Malfoy, for once, didn’t seem in the mood for sneering comments. Harry walked in silence, clenching his fists. He wanted to say something to Hagrid as soon as he saw him, but he knew he couldn’t do so in front of Malfoy.
The moon shone high in the sky, occasionally obscured by clouds that darkened their path. When they approached Hagrid’s hut, Harry heard his gruff voice calling out of the darkness.
“That you, Filch? Hurry up, I want to get started.”
Harry saw Hagrid’s massive figure emerge from the shadows, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and Fang by his side. When he spotted them, his face lit up briefly.
“Harry, Hermione! Everything all right?”
Harry pressed his lips together. “Not the time, Hagrid,” he said in a low, sharp voice, giving him a look that said everything he couldn’t say out loud. Hagrid stared back at him with a mix of guilt and confusion, but he didn’t have time to reply.
“Don’t get too friendly with them, Hagrid,” Filch said with his usual nasty tone. “They’re here to be punished, not to go on a pleasure outing.”
“Thanks, Filch, I’ll take it from here,” Hagrid replied brusquely, his tone leaving no room for argument. Filch muttered under his breath and turned back toward the castle.
Hagrid led them to the edge of the forest, where the moonlight faded into the thick canopy of trees. He pointed to a silvery patch on the ground. “See that shiny stuff? Unicorn blood. There’s a wounded unicorn in there. We need to find it, but it might be too late to save it.”
Hermione and Parvati exchanged horrified looks. “A wounded unicorn…” Parvati murmured, her voice trembling. “That’s terrible. It’s unnatural.”
“We’ll split into two groups,” Hagrid announced. “Me, Harry, Hermione, and Parvati will go one way, while Neville, Malfoy, and Fang take the other. If you find anything, send up green sparks. If you’re in trouble, send up red ones. Got it?”
Neville gulped loudly, and Malfoy muttered something about his privileges, but in the end, they set off.
The forest was dark and silent. After walking for a while, they came to a fork in the dirt path: Harry, Hermione, Parvati, and Hagrid went left, while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang went right.
They walked in silence, eyes fixed on the ground. Occasionally, a ray of moonlight filtering through the high branches of the trees illuminated a patch of silvery-blue blood on the dry leaves. Harry noticed that Hagrid looked deeply worried.
“Could it have been a werewolf that hurt the unicorns?” he asked.
“No, werewolves aren’t that fast,” Hagrid replied. “Catching a unicorn isn’t easy. They’re creatures with great magical powers. I’ve never heard of a unicorn being injured before.”
They passed a moss-covered tree trunk. Harry heard the sound of rushing water; there must have been a stream nearby. Along the winding path, they kept finding scattered patches of unicorn blood.
“Are you all right, girls?” Hagrid whispered at one point. “Don’t worry, if it’s badly hurt, it can’t have gone far, and we’ll be able to—QUICK, hide behind that tree!”
Hagrid grabbed Harry, Hermione, and Parvati, pulling them off the path to hide behind a towering oak. He drew an arrow from his quiver, fitted it to the crossbow, and raised the weapon, ready to fire. They all listened intently. Something nearby was rustling through the dry leaves; it sounded like a cloak brushing the ground. Hagrid squinted to see further down the dark path, but after a few moments, the noise stopped.
“I knew it,” he murmured. “There’s something in this forest that shouldn’t be here.”
“A werewolf?” Harry suggested.
“No, that wasn’t a werewolf, nor was it a unicorn,” Hagrid said grimly. “All right, follow me, but stay sharp.”
They resumed walking, but more slowly, straining to hear the slightest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing up ahead, something unmistakably moved.
“Who’s there?” Hagrid shouted. “Show yourself… I’m armed!”
A figure stepped into the clearing… but was it a man or a horse? From the waist up, he was a man with red hair and a beard, but from the waist down, he had the body of a chestnut-colored horse with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione gaped.
“Oh, it’s you, Bane,” Hagrid said in relief. “How are you?” He stepped forward and shook the centaur’s hand.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” said Bane, his voice deep and melancholy. “You weren’t about to shoot me, were you?”
“Can’t be too careful, Bane,” Hagrid replied, patting his crossbow. “There’s something odd in this forest. Oh, by the way, let me introduce Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Parvati Patil. They’re students up at the school. And this is Bane, kids. He’s a centaur.”
“We’d noticed,” Hermione said faintly.
“Good evening,” said Bane. “So, you’re students? Tell me, do they teach you a lot at that school?”
“Er…” Parvati tried to speak.
“A bit,” Hermione said timidly.
“A bit. Well, it’s something,” Bane sighed. Then he tilted his head back and gazed at the sky. “Mars is very bright tonight.”
“Yeah,” Hagrid said, glancing up as well. “Listen, Bane, I’m glad we ran into you because there’s a wounded unicorn out here. Have you seen anything?”
Bane didn’t answer immediately. He kept his eyes fixed on the sky before sighing again.
“The first victims are always the innocent,” he said. “So it has been for centuries, and so it is now.”
“Yeah,” Hagrid said, “but have you seen anything, Bane? Anything unusual?”
“Mars is very bright tonight,” Bane repeated as Hagrid gave him an impatient look. “It doesn’t often shine like this.”
“All right, but I meant anything unusual down here on the ground,” Hagrid pressed. “You know, have you noticed anything?”
Once again, Bane took his time before responding. Finally, he said, “The forest hides many secrets.”
Behind Bane, a rustling sound among the trees made Hagrid raise his crossbow again; but it was only another centaur, this one with black hair and a darker, fiercer appearance than Bane.
“Evening, Ronan,” Hagrid said. “How’s it going?”
“Good evening, Hagrid. I hope you are well.”
“Not bad. Listen, I just asked Bane the same thing: have you seen anything strange around here lately? There’s supposedly a wounded unicorn. Do you know anything about that?”
Ronan moved closer to Bane, then looked up at the sky. “Mars is very bright tonight,” he said quietly.
“We’ve already heard that one,” Hagrid muttered irritably. “Well, if either of you sees anything, let me know, all right? We’d better be off.”
With that, he left the clearing, followed by Harry, Parvati, and Hermione, who turned back to look at Bane and Ronan until the trees blocked their view.
“It’s impossible,” Hagrid was saying irritably, “to get a straight answer from a centaur. They’re always looking at the stars. They don’t care a whit about what happens down here.”
“That’s not true!” Parvati suddenly burst out, interrupting him. Her voice was full of anxiety, and her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her cloak. “They do understand, Hagrid. They look at the stars because that’s where they find the answers. When they say Mars is bright, they’re not just talking about astronomy. Mars is the planet of war, of conflict. If they’re mentioning it on a night like this, it means something big is happening. Something dangerous.”
Hagrid turned to look at her with a puzzled expression, while Harry and Hermione stared at her, impressed by the certainty in her voice.
“But what does that have to do with a wounded unicorn?” Harry asked skeptically.
“I don’t know,” Parvati admitted, lowering her gaze. “But it’s no coincidence. Wounded unicorns… the blood of such a pure creature… and now Mars. It’s like they’re saying a conflict is starting. Something we can’t ignore.”
Hermione looked at her with a newfound respect. “I’d never thought of Mars that way. It’s troubling.”
“Troubling?” Parvati repeated, her voice uncertain. “I think it’s frightening. If the centaurs are worried, then we should be too.”
Harry said nothing, but he felt a chill run down his spine. Even Hagrid seemed less convinced of his initial irritation but tried to shrug it off with a half-hearted smile.
“Well, let’s not lose our heads. Centaurs always talk in riddles. Let’s just focus on finding that poor unicorn,” he said, trying to shake off the tension.
Parvati, however, didn’t seem reassured, and Harry noticed that for the rest of the trek, she kept glancing at the sky with worried eyes.
They moved through the dense, dark forest. Harry, feeling nervous, kept looking over his shoulder. He had the unsettling sensation that someone was watching them. He was glad Hagrid was there with his crossbow.
They had just rounded a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm.
“Hagrid, look! Red sparks! The others are in trouble!”
“You three wait here!” Hagrid shouted. “Don’t leave the path; I’ll come back for you!”
The three of them heard him run off, the underbrush crackling under his feet, and they stood staring at each other in terror until they could hear nothing but the rustling of leaves around them.
“You don’t think something’s happened to him, do you?” Hermione whispered.
“If it’s Malfoy, I don’t care,” Harry replied. “But if something happens to Neville… I’d never forgive myself.”
Minutes passed excruciatingly slowly. It felt as though their hearing had become unusually sharp: Harry’s ears picked up every sigh of the wind, every snapping twig. But what was happening? And where were the others?
Finally, a great noise of breaking branches announced Hagrid’s return, followed by Malfoy, Neville, and Fang. Hagrid was furious. Apparently, Malfoy, trying to pull a prank, had snuck up behind Neville and grabbed him. Terrified, Neville had panicked and shot off the red sparks.
“After all the racket you two made, we’ll be lucky to find anything. All right, the groups will switch now. Neville, you’re with me, Hermione, and Parvati. Harry, you’re with Fang and this idiot,” Hagrid added, whispering apologetically to Harry. “But scaring you is a bit harder, and we need to get this done.”
So Harry headed deeper into the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, venturing further and further until the path became almost impassable, the trees so thick. Harry noticed that the patches of blood were becoming more frequent. There were splatters on the roots of a tree, as if the poor injured creature had been wandering there.
Ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak, Harry saw another clearing.
“Look…” he murmured, stretching out an arm to stop Malfoy.
On the ground was something white, gleaming faintly. They approached cautiously. It was the unicorn, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and so sad. As it fell, its long, slender legs had sprawled at odd angles, and its pearl-white mane was spread across the dark leaves.
Harry had just taken a step toward the unicorn when a rustling sound made him stop abruptly. At the edge of the clearing, a bush quivered… Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure emerged, crawling like a predator.
Harry, Malfoy, and Fang froze in place. The hooded figure moved closer to the unicorn, bent its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.
“AAAAAARGH!”
Malfoy let out a blood-curdling scream and bolted, Fang following close behind. The hooded figure lifted its head and fixed its gaze on Harry, unicorn blood dripping down its chest. Then it stood and began advancing toward him rapidly.
Harry was paralyzed with fear.
Then, a pain like nothing he’d ever felt before shot through his head: it was as if his scar were on fire. Half-blinded, he stumbled backward. Behind him, he heard the sound of galloping hooves, and something leapt over him, landing between him and the hooded figure.
The pain in his head was so intense that Harry fell to his knees, and it took him a few moments to recover. When he finally looked up, the hooded figure was gone. In front of him stood a centaur—not Bane or Ronan, but a younger one with pale blond hair and a silver-gray body.
“Are you all right?” the centaur asked, helping Harry to his feet.
“Y-yes, thank you… but what was that?”
The centaur didn’t answer. He had stunningly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked at Harry intently, his gaze lingering on the scar that stood out starkly on Harry’s forehead.
“You’re the young Potter!” he exclaimed. “You should get back to Hagrid. The forest is a dangerous place at this hour, especially for you. Can you ride? It will be faster this way.”
“My name is Firenze,” he added, kneeling so Harry could climb onto his back.
Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves came again, this time from the opposite side of the clearing. From the trees emerged Bane and Ronan, their flanks heaving and slick with sweat.
“Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You’ve got a human on your back! Aren’t you ashamed? Are you a common mule?”
“Do you know who this is?” Firenze retorted. “This is the young Potter. The sooner he leaves this forest, the better.”
“What did you tell him?” Bane asked through gritted teeth. “Remember, Firenze, we swore not to rebel against the heavens. Haven’t we read what will come in the movement of the planets?”
Ronan pawed nervously at the ground.
“I’m sure Firenze believed he was acting for the best,” he said in his melancholy voice.
Bane kicked angrily with his hind legs.
“For the best! And what has that to do with us? Centaurs concern themselves with what is foretold! It is not our place to run around like donkeys, chasing lost humans through our forest!”
Suddenly, Firenze reared up on his hind legs in anger, and Harry had to cling to his shoulders to stay on.
“Can’t you see the unicorn?” Firenze exclaimed, turning to Bane. “Don’t you understand why it was killed? Did the planets not reveal that secret to you? I rebel against what is stalking this forest, Bane, yes, I do, and alongside humans if I must.”
Firenze turned abruptly, and as Harry held on for dear life, he galloped into the forest, leaving Bane and Ronan behind.
Harry had no idea what was going on.
“Why is Bane so angry?” he asked. “And what did you save me from?”
Firenze slowed to a walk and advised Harry to keep his head down to avoid low-hanging branches, but he didn’t answer the question. They moved in silence through the trees, and Harry began to think the centaur wouldn’t speak to him anymore. But as they crossed a particularly dense patch of forest, Firenze stopped suddenly.
“Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?”
“No,” Harry replied, startled by the odd question. “We only use the horn and tail hair in Potions, and the hair is also used as a wand core.”
“That’s because using unicorn blood is monstrous,” Firenze said. “Only someone who has nothing to lose and everything to gain would commit such a crime. Unicorn blood can keep you alive even if you’re on the brink of death, but the price is terrible. Because you’ve killed something so pure and defenseless to save yourself, from the moment the blood touches your lips, you will only live a half-life, a cursed life.”
Harry stared at the back of Firenze’s head, streaked silver by the moonlight.
“But who would be that desperate?” he asked aloud. “If it means being cursed forever, wouldn’t it be better to die?”
“True,” Firenze agreed, “unless you only need to stay alive long enough to drink something else… something that will restore your full strength and power, something that will make you immortal. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden within your school at this very moment?”
“The Philosopher’s Stone! Of course… the Elixir of Life! But I don’t understand who…”
“Can’t you think of anyone who has been waiting for years to return to power, clinging to life, waiting for their great opportunity?”
It was as though a fist of iron had suddenly clenched around Harry’s heart. Beyond the rustling of the leaves, he seemed to hear Sirius’s voice again, from the night he had told Harry about his parents’ deaths. But then, they didn’t find a body, so he might not have disappeared entirely.
“You mean,” Harry said in a strangled voice, “it was Vol—”
“Harry! Harry, are you all right?”
Hermione was running toward them along the path, followed by a panting Hagrid.
“I’m fine,” Harry replied, barely aware of what he was saying. “The unicorn is dead, Hagrid, in the clearing back there.”
“At this point, I’ll leave you,” Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to investigate the unicorn. “You’re safe now.”
Harry slid off his back.
“Good luck, Harry Potter,” Firenze said. “It has happened before that the planets were misread, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.”
With that, he turned and trotted off into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry shivering.
When Harry, Hermione, Parvati, and Neville returned to the Common Room, they found Ron asleep in one of the armchairs by the now-dying fire. Harry went over and shook him roughly. Ron jerked awake, yelling something about a foul in Quidditch, but he quickly came to his senses.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Why do you look like that?”
“I’ll explain everything, but we all need to be together,” Harry said quickly. He turned to Parvati. “Can you wake Lavender and bring her to the boys’ dormitory? Tell her it’s important.”
Parvati nodded and hurried up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry turned to Neville.
“Neville, please wake Dean and Seamus. Tell them to meet us in the dormitory right away.”
Despite looking shaken from the night in the forest, Neville ran off to do as he was told.
Within minutes, the first-year boys’ dormitory was full. The bed curtains had been drawn back, and the girls were sitting on the mattresses while the boys stood or sat on trunks near the beds. Harry paced back and forth, unable to keep still.
“What’s going on?” Dean asked, yawning, while Seamus looked at Harry curiously. “You dragged us out of bed for something big, right? Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, it’s big,” Harry said, stopping abruptly. “What we saw in the forest… changes everything.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“A unicorn was killed,” Hermione said softly. The room filled with murmurs of shock.
“Who would do something like that?” Lavender asked, horrified. “Unicorns are sacred.”
“Someone with no scruples,” Parvati said grimly, crossing her arms. “And that’s not the worst of it. Mars is brighter than usual tonight.”
The others exchanged confused looks.
“So?” Seamus asked.
“Mars represents war and conflict,” Parvati explained gravely. “The centaurs in the forest said so clearly. Something terrible is about to happen.”
“But that’s not all,” Harry added, his voice trembling. He recounted everything: the unicorn’s blood, the hooded figure drinking from the dead creature’s body, and how Firenze had saved him, explaining what it meant to drink unicorn blood.
Dean and Seamus were stunned into silence. Neville pulled his blanket around his knees, as if it could shield him from what he had just heard. Lavender glanced at Parvati, as though seeking confirmation.
“So… whoever that figure was,” Dean said slowly, “they’re trying to stay alive at any cost?”
Harry nodded. “Firenze helped me understand who it might be. Voldemort.”
The room fell silent. Even Ron, who had been about to argue, seemed struck speechless.
“Don’t say that name,” Neville whispered, terrified.
“But it’s him,” Harry insisted. “He’s here, somewhere. He’s trying to come back to power. And the Philosopher’s Stone is the key.”
“So, You-know-who is alive?” Seamus asked skeptically, breaking the silence with an uncertain voice. “But you defeated him, Harry. He’s dead. Everyone knows that.”
Harry stopped mid-pace and stared at him. “Seamus, they never found a body,” he said firmly. “Not even a fragment. No one knows what really happened that night. And if he’s truly gone, why are there still people so afraid of him they won’t even say his name?”
Seamus swallowed hard and said nothing, while Hermione and Neville looked at Harry with grim expressions. The silence was broken by Lavender.
“But it could be someone else,” Lavender said in a small voice, nervously clutching the hem of her cloak. “I mean… there are lots of dark wizards out there. Why does it have to be Voldemort?”
Ron scoffed, crossing his arms. “Really, Lavender? Even with all the evidence, you still want to believe it’s someone else? How many people do you think would have a reason to drink unicorn blood and steal the Philosopher’s Stone?”
Lavender looked offended but didn’t reply. It was Dean who spoke up.
“This explains everything,” he said, his face lighting up as he pieced the logic together. “The Philosopher’s Stone doesn’t just provide endless wealth. It also gives the Elixir of Life. If Voldemort is still alive, even just as… as a shadow, he’d need that Stone to fully return.”
“Exactly,” Harry said, stopping to look at Dean approvingly. “It’s not just about stealing something valuable. It’s not Snape who wants the Stone for himself. It’s for him. Voldemort. He’s waiting for the right moment, and Snape—or whoever is helping him—is doing the dirty work.”
Neville shivered. “So… we’re really talking about You-Know-Who? You mean he could come back?”
“And that we need to stop him,” Ron said, with a determination that surprised even Harry. “We can’t let him get the Stone.”
“But how can we do that without anyone believing us?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry with concern.
“First, we need to make sure the Stone is safe,” Harry replied. “We can’t do it all alone, but we also can’t just sit and watch. We need to come up with a plan.”
The dormitory filled with tense silence as the group absorbed the gravity of the situation. Harry looked at his friends, feeling the weight of what they were facing but also finding comfort in knowing he wasn’t alone. For the first time, he knew he had a team to face whatever lay ahead.