Even though most Gryffindors had forgiven Harry and the others thanks to Lewis's intervention,
the school's punishment remained unchanged.
Soon enough, Harry, Ron, Neville—and Malfoy—received identical notes:
Your detention will begin at eleven tonight.
Report to Mr. Filch in the Entrance Hall.
At eleven that night, the three of them went downstairs together.
Filch was already waiting in the Entrance Hall.
Malfoy was there too.
Their punishment? Assisting with a patrol in the Forbidden Forest.
That terrified them.
The Forbidden Forest—
Unlike the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor, which required Dumbledore's repeated warnings,
the forest didn't need reminders. Its reputation alone was enough.
Even in daylight, it was dangerous:
man-eating acromantulas, hostile centaurs, werewolves under the full moon, and countless dark creatures…
And now they were being sent there at night.
The fear doubled instantly.
But no matter how scared they were, detention was not negotiable.
So they had no choice but to follow Filch to meet Hagrid.
What they didn't know—
was that someone invisible was following right behind them.
Lewis had long wanted to explore the Forbidden Forest.
But without a guide, he had no easy way in.
So he simply made use of Harry's detention.
Fully prepared, every buff spell active, Lewis moved cautiously.
He had even altered his robes to red and gold—
so that if he were exposed, he'd simply be mistaken for a Gryffindor.
Framing others was something he was quite skilled at.
Soon, they reached Hagrid waiting at the forest's edge.
"Don't make it too easy for them," Filch muttered before leaving.
Hagrid frowned. "I know what I'm doing. I don't need your advice."
The two had worked together for years, but their personalities couldn't be more different.
Hagrid was warm and loved students.
Filch, a Squib, resented them—every magical child reminded him of what he lacked.
Naturally, they never got along.
Once Filch left, Malfoy immediately started causing trouble.
He tried to use his father's position as a school governor to avoid entering the forest.
Hagrid snapped back without hesitation:
"That's not how Hogwarts works! Writing lines won't do you any good—you've got to do something useful, or you can clear off!"
"If you think your father would rather see you expelled, go ahead—head back to the castle and pack!"
Even Lewis had to admit—
that was satisfying.
Malfoy finally shut up.
Then, in classic horror-movie fashion, Hagrid split the group.
Malfoy and Neville went with Fang.
Hagrid himself led Harry and Ron—
along with Lewis, the invisible stowaway.
Moonlight illuminated the narrow path into the forest.
The darkness ahead seemed like a gaping maw, ready to swallow intruders whole.
Hagrid led them deeper along a winding trail.
The forest was eerie—
twisted branches like clawing demons,
patches of pale moonlight that felt more unsettling than comforting.
But Hagrid moved calmly, explaining plants and creatures as they went.
Under his guidance, Harry and Ron gradually relaxed, even beginning to appreciate the forest's strange beauty.
Behind them, Lewis quietly followed—
listening to Hagrid's explanations while harvesting valuable materials:
grindylow larvae in bushes,
jumping toadstool caps,
belladonna, dittany, moonstone fragments,
jobberknoll feathers…
With his enhanced senses, he missed nothing.
Even unicorn blood on the ground—he collected it.
Though drinking it brought a deadly curse,
using it in potions was a different matter entirely.
After about an hour, Lewis finally left the group.
He had spotted a nest of Murtlaps in the distance—
their tentacle growths were extremely valuable ingredients.
Now alone, he began exploring freely.
But soon—
he noticed something wrong.
The Scholar's Moonstone in his pouch was acting up again.
Even through the dragonhide wallet, its energy pulsed violently.
It felt… like it was pointing somewhere.
Lewis tested different directions—
and found that one path caused the strongest reaction.
Curious, he followed it.
The deeper he went, the stranger it felt.
Near a moss-covered stump, he saw large droplets of silver-blue blood.
A wounded unicorn.
"…Don't tell me…"
He moved forward—
and soon heard hoofbeats.
In a clearing ahead—
a silver-white unicorn stood facing a cloaked figure.
"Damn it… why here?"
Lewis cursed internally.
Even though he was confident he could face Quirrell—
even with Voldemort possessing him—
he had no intention of getting involved.
His plan had been simple:
let Voldemort act as a "tool,"
clearing out dangerous creatures and distracting the forest's guardians.
Then Lewis could safely gather resources.
But now—
thanks to the Moonstone—
he had been led straight into the confrontation.
So I'm the tool now?!
No thanks.
He turned to leave—
but suddenly, the injured unicorn broke away from the standoff
and charged straight toward him.
Toward his invisible position.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Lewis's composure cracked.
It was as if the unicorn could see him—
like it was deliberately dragging him into the fight.
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