This was Rock's first time seeing a live unicorn.
Granted, he hadn't seen a dead one either, but the creature standing before him had been watching him from the very start.
Rock crouched down, gently placing the freshly picked Moonlight Grass on the ground.
Dewdrops still clung to the leaves. Moonlight Grass was a favorite treat for unicorns, which was likely why this one had been drawn out in the first place.
Rock and Hagrid took a few steps back. Hagrid looked exceptionally pleased. "Hey, yeh know? This is the first time in ages I've seen her show herself to anyone willingly."
"Maybe it's the fog. She feels safer coming out to the edge of the woods," Rock replied, straightening up.
Seeing Rock and Hagrid retreat, the unicorn finally stepped forward toward the Moonlight Grass.
Even in that simple movement, Rock understood why these creatures were so adored by witches.
The way it moved was pure elegance—honestly, it was breathtaking. It tread upon the damp earth without leaving a single trace, as if the creature itself were made of light.
After double-checking that Rock and Hagrid were staying put, the unicorn lowered its head slightly, brushing the dew off the grass with the tip of its nose before taking a bite.
Then, it looked up at Rock.
It did something neither Hagrid nor Rock expected.
Rock felt a sudden chill against his fingertips, followed by a sensation on the back of his hand that felt like the finest, softest silk.
Hagrid clamped a hand over his mouth, terrified that even a breath might ruin the moment.
Despite the heavy fog, a beam of moonlight seemed to find a gap in the canopy, shining directly down on them. At the edge of the dark forest, a unicorn was affectionately nuzzling a young boy's hand with its neck.
Feeling the unicorn's faint breath, Rock suddenly smiled.
He turned his hand over and gently stroked its mane. "Well, aren't you a real piece of work?"
It was his honest thought. He had seen plenty of magical creatures, but nothing quite like a unicorn. At the very least, it got top marks for aesthetics and texture.
Hearing Rock's voice, the little creature looked up at him, then promptly turned around and slowly walked back into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
"Hey, you've got quite the attitude, don't you?" Rock laughed, shaking his head.
Talk about a strong personality. Usually, other creatures—like the three Kneazles back at the manor—would come right back even if he pushed them away.
"Little Rock... that was... that was magical!" Hagrid finally dared to lower his hand, letting out a heavy breath.
"It's just a unicorn, Hagrid. No need to be so dramatic," Rock said, completely unfazed.
"Oh... Little Rock... yeh should know better than me. A unicorn willing to get close to a human? Showing affection? That's rare in the wizarding world. It's nigh on sacred."
As he spoke, Hagrid wiped his eyes with the back of his rough, giant hand. The scene had clearly touched his sensitive heart.
"Sacred, huh..." Rock muttered.
He shook his head, pushing his thoughts aside for the moment, and waved at the emotional half-giant. "Hagrid, shall we keep going?"
"Oh! Right, right. We've got work to do," Hagrid sniffled, getting back to business.
---
With the patrol of the forest perimeter complete, Hagrid escorted Rock back to the castle's main entrance.
"Best get inside, Little Rock. Reckon it's gonna rain soon," Hagrid said, waving goodbye as he looked up at the thick fog.
"Will do. Thanks, Hagrid."
Rock nodded and headed toward Ravenclaw Tower. Halfway up, he glanced out a corridor window and saw a hazy drizzle beginning to fall.
"It really is raining," he murmured, staring out at the grounds.
Suddenly, a colorful line of text flashed across his interface—the daily inscription:
[The Unicorn has left its mark on you. Spirit +500]
"You know... did that little guy approach me because it sensed it's going to die in the future?"
Rock chuckled to himself.
"That little rascal... it really is a piece of work."
If that truly was the reason, he'd have to make sure to snag some of its tail hair later as payment. It ignored the greatest white wizard of the century and instead sought out a "defenseless" little student like him?
The next few days passed quietly.
Or at least, that's how Rock felt as he stuck to his study routine.
However, there was a shift in the atmosphere. The first-year Ravenclaws were gradually forming a cohesive unit. In the common room, you could almost always find Rock surrounded by students, answering their questions.
Even upperclassmen would slow down to watch as they passed by.
It seemed this year's batch of first-years was integrating into Ravenclaw faster than previous generations—at least, the academic atmosphere suggested as much.
That evening, Theo walked into the dormitory with a grin plastered on his face.
"Look at this. You see this?"
Theo slapped a weekly magazine onto the desk, raising an eyebrow at Rock and Adam.
"What is it?" Adam picked it up curiously, only to freeze a second later.
Rock leaned over to take a look and let out a laugh.
"Weekly Headline? Are you trying to make Malfoy die of shame?"
On the cover, beneath a title written in eccentric font, was a moving picture of Draco Malfoy. He was clutching his mouth, looking absolutely panicked, with buck teeth growing past his chin.
"Hah! That's just the start!"
Theo tapped the table rhythmically. "You know what my father wrote to me? He said Malfoy Manor is lively as hell right now. It's not just the Aurors knocking on their door—the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Regulatory Control Department are swarming the place."
"And the best part? The Head of the Auror Office went there personally."
"So?" Rock didn't seem particularly moved. He had merely pointed out the situation; the actual maneuvering was being handled by his great-uncle, Theseus.
"So? My father says the Malfoy family is in deep trouble this time," Theo said, spreading his hands. "That's why my aunt put him on the cover."
"After all, the Malfoys don't exactly have the spare time to go after Witch Weekly right now."
"Though, it's probably just for this issue. Can't keep it up forever," Theo added, looking a bit regretful.
Rock had to admire Theo—the guy loved stirring the pot. "Brother, take it easy. Don't stress your aunt out too much. She's getting up there in years; she doesn't need the anxiety."
"My aunt? Getting up in years?"
Theo flipped the magazine to the very last page and said ominously, "If she heard you say that, she'd come here and hex you herself."
Rock turned to look at the photo on the back page, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.
"You're telling me... that's your aunt?"