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Chapter 25
When it rains, it pours—and lately, it had been pouring nonstop.
Not long ago Ron had been thoroughly scolded by someone, and he couldn't even talk back because he still needed that person's help. Of course, even if he didn't need help, he probably wouldn't dare to retaliate anyway.
But now he finally understood the meaning of that person's final warning.
He'd been bitten by a dragon.
Over a single night, Ron's hand had swollen to twice its usual size. The bite marks had turned a sickly green, clearly showing that the dragon's teeth carried venom.
"Looks like I won't be holding a quill for at least a week," Ron groaned. "Now I finally get what he meant. That thing is seriously the most terrifying creature I've ever seen." He shuddered at the memory.
"What are we going to do? Madam Pomfrey will notice immediately," Hermione said, clearly panicking.
"I'll just tell her it was a dog bite," Ron said confidently—far more confidently than someone with a twice-sized, green, poisoned hand should sound. "Relax."
"There's a letter from Malfoy," Harry said suddenly, his expression grave as he pulled out an envelope.
"What does it say?" Ron asked.
"He wants us to bring Norbert up to the highest tower at midnight on Saturday. Someone will meet us there," Harry read.
"Midnight?" Ron yelped. "It's a trap! He wants us caught so they'll take points! What if nobody shows up and Filch finds us? Gryffindor will be slaughtered in the scores!"
"Ron," Harry said seriously, "we kind of have to trust him this time. Think about it—if he wanted to report us, we'd already be in detention. Besides, we have a backup plan, don't we?"
"The Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione whispered excitedly.
"It'll cover both of us and Norbert," Harry nodded.
The next few days crawled by. Norbert—or "Nob," as Hagrid insisted—had become a hot potato no one wanted to hold onto anymore. They had never been so desperate for a Saturday night to arrive.
Saturday came, dark and clouded. They reached Hagrid's hut later than planned because Peeves had been bouncing a tennis ball off the corridor walls again, and they had to wait him out.
Hagrid had prepared a ridiculous farewell package: a pile of dead rats, some brandy, and even a teddy bear. All of it went into a huge crate meant for Norbert.
"Good-bye, Nob!" Hagrid sobbed. "Mummy won't forget yeh!"
Harry and Hermione threw the Invisibility Cloak over the crate and shoved both themselves and Norbert underneath.
The rest of the trip was nerve-wracking, though not actually dangerous.
The winding staircase up the tower felt easier than usual, maybe because their hearts were pounding the whole way. They only slipped out from under the Cloak once they reached the freezing rooftop. Hermione even did a tiny victory dance—finally, she could breathe properly.
"Hermione, calm down," Harry whispered. "We're not done yet."
After ten long minutes, several broomsticks swooped down from the night sky.
"He really didn't trick us," Harry exhaled with relief.
"Are you two Young Master Draco's friends?" asked the tallest wizard—clearly their leader.
"…Yeah." Harry nodded reluctantly.
"Good. Leave the rest to us."
The men secured Norbert with ropes like a carefully tied net, preparing him for transport.
"Pleasure doing business with you," the leader said.
"Thank you," Harry said earnestly.
Then the men mounted their brooms and soared off into the night with Norbert.
Harry and Hermione descended the spiral staircase, feeling lighter than air without the dragon weighing them down. Their hearts were finally as free as their hands.
Unfortunately, most people fail right when they're closest to success.
The moment they stepped back into the corridor, Filch's wrinkled, miserable face appeared before them.
"It's over," Harry breathed. Only then did he realize—with horror—that they'd left the Invisibility Cloak upstairs.
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Early the next morning, when Gryffindors passed the huge hourglass tallying House points, they froze. Overnight, their points had dropped by a full hundred. The rumor spread instantly: Harry Potter—the Harry Potter, Quidditch hero—had cost them the biggest point loss in years, along with another "idiotic first-year."
Harry went from one of the most admired students to the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs glared at him; everyone wanted to see Slytherin lose the House Cup for once. Wherever he walked, people whispered loudly, insulted him openly, or avoided him. But the Slytherins? They cheered, clapped, and whistled as he passed.
"Thanks, Potter! You've done us a favor!"
Only Ron stayed by his side.
"They'll get over it," Ron said sympathetically. "Fred and George lose points all the time and everyone still loves them."
"But they've never lost a hundred in one go, have they?" Harry muttered.
Ron had no comeback.
Exams suddenly seemed like heaven—something to focus on instead of the shame. Harry even asked Wood to kick him off the Quidditch team, but Wood refused outright.
He decided to bury himself in studying. Maybe if he crammed enough potion recipes, spellwork, magical inventions, and Goblin Rebellion dates into his skull, he could drown out the looks and comments.
He planned to stay out of trouble.
But that didn't last.
Snape threatened Quirrell again—and this time, Harry overheard Snape winning.
"I'm going to stop him," Harry said firmly.
"Harry… maybe we should worry about ourselves first," Ron said carefully.
"I agree," Hermione whispered.
"Even if they expel me, I can't let him succeed," Harry clenched his fists.
Ron looked at him, sighed, and said, "Fine. If you're going to die for this, I'll go with you. Friends, right?"
Hermione bit her lip—hard—but said nothing.
The next morning, Harry and Hermione each received a note at breakfast:
Your detention begins at eleven o'clock tonight.
Report to Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.
—Professor McGonagall
Harry had been so overwhelmed by humiliation that he'd nearly forgotten they still had detention. Hermione didn't complain about the lost study time—she only said that punishment was deserved.
That night, after saying goodbye to Ron, they headed to Filch's office, nervous about what was waiting.
But what they didn't expect was Draco Malfoy standing under the dim lamp.
"Come with me," Filch growled, lifting a lantern. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before breaking school rules."
"Why is he here?" Harry blurted. Hermione lowered her head instantly, twisting her fingers nervously, unsure how to face Malfoy.
"Professor McGonagall was worried about you," Filch spat. "So she assigned you a bodyguard. Imagine that—getting a bodyguard even while being punished." His voice dripped with disbelief.
"Believe me, I'm not thrilled," Malfoy said dryly. "But I need my wand back, don't I?" He twirled his newly returned wand between his fingers. Clearly, this babysitting job was the price.
Filch marched them across the dark grounds.
"Where are we going?" Hermione whispered.
"I don't know," Harry whispered back.
"You don't have to guess. We're going to the Forbidden Forest," Malfoy said calmly, as if discussing the weather.
The moon was bright but kept hiding behind drifting clouds, plunging them into darkness. A damp, cold wind whipped across the grounds. Harry and Hermione trembled—not just from the cold. The Forbidden Forest was practically synonymous with danger.
"They say there are werewolves in there," Harry whispered.
Malfoy snorted. "That's nothing. We could run into acromantulas, nightmarish birds, unicorns, centaurs… depends how unlucky we are."
Or Voldemort, he added silently.
Hermione's face grew paler with each word. She glanced at Malfoy as if searching for fear, but found nothing.
Is he not afraid at all?
"I do have some good news," Malfoy suddenly said.
"Young man, don't talk so much," Filch snapped.
"Oh, even better," Malfoy muttered, falling silent.
Soon they saw a huge shadow stride toward them—Hagrid, with Fang at his heels. The sight almost made Harry and Hermione cheer.
"Oh? Yer lookin' cheerful, are yeh?" Filch sneered. He hated happiness in general. "You'll have fun in there."
Cursing them under his breath, he hobbled back to the castle.
"Listen carefully," Hagrid said. "What we're doin' tonight is dangerous. I don't want anyone hurt. Follow me."
He lifted his lantern and pointed toward a narrow trail swallowed by the darkness of the trees. A breeze whistled through the leaves.
"See that silver stuff on the ground? Unicorn blood. One o' the unicorns is badly injured—second time this week. Found one dead last Wednesday. We gotta find this one and put it out of its misery."
"We'll split up," Hagrid continued. "As long as yeh stay near me an' Fang, yeh'll be safe."
"I doubt that," Malfoy muttered behind him.
Hagrid flinched—he'd hoped not to acknowledge Malfoy at all. Their last conversation hadn't gone well. But he still said gruffly, "That's why we're bein' careful. Take Fang with yeh."
Fang licked his paw nervously. It was unclear whether he liked this plan.
"He's a coward, mind yeh," Hagrid warned.
"I'll manage," Malfoy said calmly, heading down the right-hand path.
Hagrid led Harry and Hermione down the left.
They walked in uneasy silence, following the gleaming drops of blood illuminated by the occasional patch of moonlight. Hagrid's tension was obvious.
"Could it be a werewolf?" Harry whispered.
"Nah," Hagrid said. "Unicorns are too fast an' magical. Hardly any creature can touch 'em."
They passed a mossy stump. The sound of running water echoed faintly—a stream nearby. More silver blood spotted the leaves.
"Alright there, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered. "Don't worry. It's hurt bad, so it can't—Oi! Hide behind that tree!"
A soft rustle approached. A centaur emerged—red-haired and red-tailed, his horse body a deep chestnut.
Harry and Hermione stared, stunned.
Meanwhile, Malfoy was far ahead, pushing through thick brush while Fang trailed at a safe distance, terrified.
"I'm supposed to be the bodyguard, but I'm being protected by a dog," Malfoy muttered bitterly.
But he didn't relax. The forest ahead felt wrong—thick with danger.
The trees grew denser. Malfoy carefully avoided sharp branches as he moved deeper. Suddenly, through a gap between ancient oaks, he saw a clearing bathed in pale white light.
His body tightened.
A bush rustled.
A hooded figure slid from the shadows, creeping toward the glowing spot. It moved low, like a predator. Harry and Malfoy held their breath. Fang trembled violently.
The creature lowered its head to the unicorn's corpse and began to drink.
Then it froze.
Someone was watching.
It turned, floating silently toward Malfoy—gliding like a wraith.
"What terrifying perception…" Malfoy's blood went cold.
The figure stopped inches from him, hissing like a snake. Fang collapsed, legs trembling uncontrollably. The hood concealed its face completely.
"Father was right… I've finally found you, my Lord," Malfoy said suddenly, adopting an expression of fanatic devotion. "Lord Voldemort!"
"Oh?" Voldemort paused, his killing intent easing. "Platinum hair… ah. Lucius' child."
"My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy, my lord."
"How ironic," Voldemort murmured. "Lucius, the most loyal of them all…"
Malfoy kept his expression reverent. "My father never stopped searching for you."
"Potter and the others are nearby," he added quickly. "We can—"
"Your loyalty already puts most Death Eaters to shame," Voldemort interrupted softly, clearly satisfied. "But I have more important matters."
He chuckled coldly. "Let the lucky boy live a while longer."
Suddenly the ground trembled. A roar echoed through the forest. A cloud of dust rose.
"Centaurs," Voldemort hissed. "Disgusting creatures. When I regain my body, I'll teach them a lesson. You… you're interesting, Draco Malfoy. I look forward to our next meeting."
His shadow dissolved into nothing.
Hopefully we never meet again, Malfoy thought grimly. But that seems unlikely now.
A group of centaurs thundered into the clearing, weapons raised.
"Human! State your name and purpose!" commanded the leader—silver-maned, blue-eyed, imposing.
"Firenze, wait! It's a misunderstanding!"
Hagrid crashed through the bushes, panting. Hermione, Harry, and several centaurs followed.
"Oh, Merlin…" Hagrid stared at the unicorn's corpse—its legs stiff, its mane dazzling white against dark leaves.
"Is this boy from your school? Did he kill it?" the centaur leader said sharply.
"No! No!" Hagrid waved his huge arms. "He split off from us. Fang was with 'im. He just found the body."
The leader studied Malfoy, then nodded reluctantly. "A first-year can't kill a unicorn. But he trespassed. And tonight… the sky is wrong."
He looked upward. "This is a bad omen."
"It's all just a misunderstanding," Hagrid repeated, flustered.
Firenze stepped forward and spotted Harry. His eyes lingered on the lightning scar.
"Hello, child of the Potter line," Firenze said kindly.
"H-hello. You know who I am?" Harry asked nervously.
"Do you know the purpose of unicorn blood?" Firenze asked.
Harry blinked. "We only use the tail hair and horn in Potions."
"That's because killing a unicorn is a monstrous act," Firenze said gravely. "Only someone utterly desperate would do it. Its blood can keep you alive even when you are an inch from death—but at a terrible cost. From the moment it touches your lips, your life becomes cursed."
Harry swallowed. "If life becomes cursed… isn't death better?"
"Yes," Firenze said. "Unless you need only a little more time—just enough to obtain something else. Something that restores strength. Something that grants immortality.
Mr. Potter… do you know what is hidden at your school?"
"The Philosopher's Stone!" Hermione gasped.
"I should've realized," Harry whispered, horrified. "No one but Voldemort would go this far to return. I actually thought Snape wanted the Stone for the gold…" He smacked his forehead.
"That is all the stars allow me to tell you," Firenze said. "Now leave. The forest does not welcome humans tonight."
"Come on now, back ter school," Hagrid urged. Harry and Hermione followed silently, their thoughts in chaos.
Suddenly Harry stopped and looked at Malfoy, who hadn't spoken since Voldemort left.
"Are you going to tell anyone?" Harry asked quietly.
Malfoy smiled faintly. "Who knows?"
No one noticed Hermione biting her lip so hard it nearly bled.
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