The Forbidden Forest
Harry
Things couldn't have been worse.
Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Harry's brain. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak?
"Mr. Potter, are you trying to fail your examinations? What is the meaning of this? And you, Mr. Black, I had expected better from you! Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."
"Professor, we were... looking at the stars." Harry blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.
"Yeah!" Jéricho chimed in desperately. "You know how terrible Harry is at it-"
"-the only thing I'm terrible at-" Harry gave a cocky grin.
"-So, I was helping him. It's my favorite subject, see."
The look that McGonagall gave them was rather telling. "I don't think that is the case at all, Messers Potter and Black. In fact, I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," she paused. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. Charles, your own brother, Mr. Potter, saw you sneaking out and decided to try and follow you, but lost you on the way and ran into Malfoy. I've already caught them both."
"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in one night! All four of you would receive detentions, and fifty points would be taken."
"Fifty?" Jéricho gasped.
"Fifty points each, yes," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.
"Professor - please - you can't -"
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Mr. Black. Now get back to bed, all of you."
A hundred lost from Gryffindor. That put Gryffindor in second-last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. Harry didn't feel too affected, as this was usual for him, but he did feel bad for Charles, who must be feeling miserable, being a first year and this being his first time getting into any serious trouble.
Charles
From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Charles was suddenly the most hated. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. The fallout didn't seem to be affecting Harry much, because the school had gotten used to him doing these sorts of things by now. Malfoy and Jéricho only lost fifty points each, so they weren't hated as much either. But everywhere Charles went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"
Lyra and Hermione had both torn into him for being so foolish, which hadn't been at all pleasant. Ron had just been a bit jealous that Charles hadn't taken him too. It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Charles swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. He'd had it with sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself. He had gotten suspicious of Harry and had tried following him, but he had lost him and ran into Malfoy, who was babbling about some dragon.
Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Charles' new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell's voice.
"No -- no -- not again, please --"
It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Charles moved closer. "All right -- all right --" he heard Quirrell sob.
Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Charles didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Charles was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.
All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Charles had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step - Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.
Charles went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy, and told them what he'd heard.
"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell -"
"There's still the dog, though," Hermione said.
"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do?"
The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Charles could. "Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."
"But we've got no proof!" Charles cried. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor -- who do you think they'll believe? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone. That'll take a lot of explaining."
Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.
"If we just do a bit of poking around --"
"No," said Charles flatly, "we've done enough poking around."
He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.
The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Charles, Jéricho, and Malfoy at their breakfast tables. They were all the same:
Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.
At eleven o'clock that night, he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Harry in silence. Things were still a bit tense between them. They hadn't even had a proper conversation since Harry had given Charles the cloak back.
Filch was already there - and so were Jéricho and Malfoy.
"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.
"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he leered at them. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."
They marched off across the dark grounds. Charles wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. When he glanced at Harry though, he was exchanging a dramatic eye-roll with Jéricho.
The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Charles could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.
"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."
Charles' heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy -- it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."
At this, Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. "The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night -- there are all sorts of things in there -- werewolves, I heard."
The other three gave a unisoned snort. There used to be a werewolf, but not anymore.
"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"
Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.
"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Charles?"
"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."
"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."
"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.
Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.
"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Charles was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.
"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it."
"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts,"
Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or Yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."
Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.
"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."
He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.
"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."
"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.
"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."
"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.
"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. " So me, Jéricho, an' Charles'll go one way an' Draco, Harry, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now -- that's it -- an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh -- so, be careful -- let's go."
The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth's path, and Charles, Jéricho, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Harry, and Fang took the right.
They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves. Charles saw that Hagrid looked very worried. They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.
Suddenly Hagrid yelled, "GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"
He seized Charles and Jéricho and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.
"I knew it, " he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be. It wasn' no unicorn. Right, follow me, but careful, now."
They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.
"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself -- I'm armed!"
And into the clearing came... a centaur. To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. "Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"
He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand. "Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"
"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Charles Potter an' Jéricho Black, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."
"We'd noticed," Jéricho stiffly said.
"Good evening," said Ronan. "I see we meet again, Jéricho Black. Where is your other companion? In this forest, per chance?"
Jéricho nodded. "Yes, he is. We're here to help Hagrid, all of us."
"Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."
"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?"
Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.
"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."
"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"
"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."
"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"
Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."
A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.
"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"
"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"
"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"
Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.
"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."
Charles and Jéricho followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.
"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."
"Are there many of them in here?" Charles asked.
"Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much."
"When did you meet Ronan?" Charles turned to Jéricho, who tensed. Hagrid, too, looked interested. "And who was the other companion?"
Jéricho took his time to reply, and when he did, he was extremely vague. "It's a story for another time."
They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Charles kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Jéricho grabbed Hagrid's arm.
"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"
"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"
They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.
"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Charles.
Jéricho gulped. "I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Harry..."
The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Charles' seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?
At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Harry, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Harry and grabbed him as a joke. But that was when Harry had spotted some creature moving in the dark, and he had already been edgy. The rest could be easily guessed.
"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Malfoy, you stay with me an' Jéricho, and Harry and Charles, you go with Fang."
So the brothers set off into the heart of the forest with Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Charles thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. He could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.
"Look -" Harry murmured, holding out his arm to stop Charles. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.
It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Charles had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.
Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made them freeze. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. They stood transfixed as the cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.
"WOOOOOOOF!"
Fang let out a loud bark and bolted. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at the brothers - unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward them - neither of them could move.
Then a pain like Charles had never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard Harry screaming in pain from where he was standing slightly before him. There was the sound of hooves behind them, galloping, and then something jumped clean over them both, charging at the figure.
The pain in Charles' head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane, this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.
In front of them, Harry was panting hard on all his fours, and Charles quickly went over and knelt next to him. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah." Harry managed, pressing a hand to his chest.
"Are you both all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.
Charles nodded. "Yes - thank you - what was that?"
The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, and then turned to Charles, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on his forehead.
"You are the Potter boys," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker that way."
"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself onto his front legs so that they could clamber onto his back.
There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.
"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have humans on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"
"Do you realize who these are?" said Firenze. "The Potter boys. The quicker they leave this forest, the better."
"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"
Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.
Bane kicked his back legs in anger. "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"
Firenze suddenly reared onto his hind legs in anger. "Do you not see that unicorn?" he bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."
And Firenze whisked around; with Harry and Charles clutching on as best they could, and they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.
Charles didn't have a clue what was going on. "Why's Bane so angry? What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"
Firenze slowed to a walk, and warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Charles' questions. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Charles thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.
"Do you know what unicorn blood is used -for?"
"Yes." Harry muttered, "It's a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."
Charles stared at the back of Harry's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight, incredulously. "But who'd be that desperate? If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"
"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else -- something that will bring you back to full strength and power -- something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"
"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course - the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who -"
"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"
It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Charles' heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."
He looked around to look at his older brother, who was now deathly pale and clammy with sweat. "Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-"
"Harry! Charles! Are you all right?" Jéricho was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind him.
"We're fine," said Charles, hardly knowing what he was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."
"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."
They slid off his back.
"Good luck, Harry and Charles Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."
He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest. Harry was shivering beside him, looking worse for wear. The thing - the pain felt - was affecting him more than Charles.
Harry had to be taken to the Hospital Wing for a pepper-up by Jéricho, so Charles trekked back to the Tower by himself. Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for him to return. He roughly shook them both awake. In a matter of seconds, they were both wide-eyed as Charles began to tell them what had happened in the forest. Charles couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.
"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich...."
"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.
"And it might be Quirell." Hermione put in.
Charles wasn't listening.
"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me and Harry... I suppose that's written in the stars as well."
"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.
"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Charles went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."
Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.
"Charles, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you or Harry. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."
"I suppose," Charles muttered.
He didn't sleep that night, though. After everything that had happened... and he wondered what the deal was with Harry. Charles was the boy-who-lived; the one Voldemort wanted to kill. Right? What did it have to do with Harry, then?