Man of Archives

Abruptly folding my wings, I savored the feel of the wind pushing against them, the way it hit hard. I swooped through the bedroom window. In the next second, I had already begun my transformation back into human form. Taking a deep breath in and out, I adjusted my clothes as the adrenaline slowly faded, leaving behind a pleasant aftertaste.

 

With a flick of my wand, I restored my clothes to their original state and headed toward the Great Hall for breakfast. After that, I would be heading to my Transfiguration mastery exam.

 

Upon entering the Great Hall, I realized I didn’t particularly feel like eating. A subconscious nervousness I hadn’t noticed before began to creep to the surface. To calm it, I poured myself a glass of cold water. After downing it, I forced myself to eat something—preferably something chewy to distract me from my anxious thoughts.

 

“Good luck, whatever you’re up to,” said Isolde. She immediately noticed my state but didn’t pry. She knew I’d tell her everything when the time was right.

 

“Thanks,” I replied with a soft sigh. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and exhaled again. Only then did I realize that the time had come.

 

Leaving the Great Hall, I returned to the Gryffindor common room once more. The portraits followed me with their quiet and meaningless chatter. In the dormitory, I grabbed a few last things, opened the window, and transformed into a bird.

 

After a short flight, I reached the edge of the school grounds, where the anti-apparition barrier no longer applied. Returning to human form, I spun on the spot. One more second passed, and with a barely audible pop, I appeared in Diagon Alley.

 

Spring was in full bloom, and the trees were beginning to blossom. Without hesitation, I headed toward the Transfiguration Guild building. The place greeted me with its usual calm and quiet. A few older wizards eyed me with curiosity before returning to their conversation.

 

At the reception, I silently handed over my invitation. The young man working there took it just as silently, verifying its authenticity with magic. Once confirmed, he returned it and said:

 

“Fourth floor, room five.”

 

“Thanks,” I nodded.

 

There was no need to linger, so I headed toward the room I needed. Climbing the stairs slowly, I mentally prepared myself for the moment I would stand before truly experienced and powerful wizards who would decide whether I was fit to join their ranks.

 

Mastery in even a single discipline was a status and recognition achieved by only a select few.

 

The fourth floor felt subtly different from what I had seen so far. It was a strange sensation, difficult to describe. From a magical standpoint, I didn’t even want to delve into it—there was so much going on here that it would take a good dose of Hagrid’s mushrooms to make sense of it all.

 

Two wizards in black robes, bearing the Ministry of Magic insignia, stood outside the room. They eyed me with interest but said nothing and made no move. Curious—what were they doing here?

 

Entering the room, I immediately spotted Professor McGonagall, sitting with a few other wizards and witches, engaged in conversation. As soon as I walked in, they stopped talking and turned their attention to me.

 

“Ah, Mr. Jody,” McGonagall said. “You’re a bit early.”

 

“Good morning,” I greeted them. “I can wait if necessary.”

 

“No need,” Gryffindor’s head of house waved it off. “I’ll send a Patronus to Dumbledore.”

 

She waved her wand, and a silvery cat shot out, quickly bounding off on its errand. I had a feeling it was heading straight to the professor.

 

“Let me introduce you to the witnesses,” the woman said, pointing to each wizard in turn. I shook hands with each of them, responding as warmly as I could. All these wizards were masters, something that was easy to tell by the rings on their hands.

 

The wizards examined me with interest, mentally assessing me. What criteria they used for their evaluations, I couldn’t say. Once everyone was introduced, Dumbledore entered with two more wizards, officials from the Ministry.

 

“Mr. Jody,” Dumbledore greeted. “Good to see you.”

 

“Thank you, Archmagister,” I nodded to him.

 

“Right now, I’m not Headmaster but Archmagister, or Master Archmagister,” the old wizard corrected me.

 

“Understood, Archmagister,” I nodded again. If that’s the protocol, I see no harm in following it.

 

“Anthony of Britain,” one of the men introduced himself, offering a handshake. “Magister.”

 

“Donatello Ratti,” the second introduced himself. “Magister.”

 

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, shaking hands with both.

 

“In addition, there will be two Ministry officials from the Department of Education present at the exam,” Dumbledore explained. “They will validate the results. Now, let’s get started.”

 

I was seated at a separate desk. Dumbledore pulled a folder from his pocket, which contained several papers—some were questions, others for answers. The wizards surrounded me, making me a bit nervous. Their eyes were fixed on me, as if they were searching for something unusual or interesting. But there was nothing out of the ordinary.

 

Pushing aside the thought that I was being watched, I began answering the questions. They were indeed challenging, but I could handle them without the help of the Archive, which reassured me and boosted my confidence. If I was unsure of something, I immediately consulted the Archive and provided my answer.

 

After finishing the last question and placing a bold period at the end, I reviewed the entire paper for any mistakes or inaccuracies. Fortunately, there were none. Satisfied that I couldn’t improve the work further, I handed the papers to Dumbledore.

 

He immediately began reviewing them, pausing at certain points, nodding to himself, and then moving on. My answers were then passed to each magister in turn, who quickly skimmed through them before handing the papers to the masters.

 

Each master read through my answers. The Ministry officials were the last to receive them, but they didn’t examine them too closely, waiting for the verdict.

 

“The written theoretical part is accepted and passed,” Dumbledore announced.

 

He pulled a small scroll from his pocket and made a checkmark.

 

“Do we confirm?” he asked.

 

“Confirmed.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Confirmed.”

 

Those were the responses from both magisters and masters. The paper then went around the circle, and each member of the Guild added their signature.

 

Next, all the examiners—there was no better term for them—sat in a semicircle. The subject of my presentation was my own spell for analyzing the human body and that of animals. I demonstrated the workings of the spell to everyone, then explained the development process behind it.

 

The wizards listened attentively without interrupting. No one tried to cut me off or ignore me. Once I had detailed the entire process, they bombarded me with questions like, “Why did you use this formula?” or “What are the energy costs?” I can confidently say they tested me thoroughly, grilling me like sand on a beach, hammering me like hot iron. The magisters, with the help of the masters, led the charge. The Archmagister simply sat there, sipping tea from a silver cup.

 

“What do you think, colleagues?” Dumbledore asked after the barrage of questions subsided. I needed a drink of water after such an intense session.

 

Glancing at the large clock on the wall, I realized they had been grilling me for over two hours. Time had flown by surprisingly fast. Sinking into a chair, I slowly began to recover from the ordeal. Meanwhile, the wizards reviewed my responses, deliberating on whether I had answered adequately.

 

“I believe Mr. Jody passed the oral part excellently,” McGonagall said. “I consider it passed.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

These were the responses from the masters, who were supposed to be witnesses but had effectively served as examiners.

 

“I concur with your decision,” Dumbledore said. “The oral part is passed.”

 

Once again, the paper circulated for everyone to add their signature. When it returned to Dumbledore, he tucked it into his sleeve and stood up. The other wizards followed suit, understanding what stage was coming next: the practical exam, which would ultimately decide whether I would be accepted into the small circle of Transfiguration masters.

 

“And now, the final stage,” Dumbledore began. “As we all know, every master of Transfiguration must be capable of transforming into several different animals. Transfiguring one’s own body is a complex branch of magic that serves as the culmination of the skills and knowledge possessed by the candidate. Mr. Jody, I understand that one of your forms is aquatic. Is that correct?”

 

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll need a small reservoir of water to demonstrate.”

 

“First, please demonstrate two forms that don’t require a special environment.”

 

With a flick of my wand, I cleared the space of tables and stools. The wizards stepped aside, awaiting my first transformation. I chose to transform into a gorilla. Closing my eyes for a moment, I let the magic flow through my body, then gave the command to begin the transformation.

 

When I opened my eyes, I was much taller than before. My stance hadn’t changed much, but I dropped onto my knuckles to feel more comfortable. The wizards made various magical gestures, testing how well the transformation had gone. I stood on my hind legs and took a few steps. It wasn’t the most comfortable movement, but it was manageable.

 

After a minute, I began transforming back into a human. The process went smoothly, which gave me a sense of satisfaction. The wizards murmured among themselves for a moment.

 

“The next transformation, Mr. Jody,” Dumbledore prompted.

 

This time, I chose to transform into a bird. I had mastered this form far better than the gorilla. In an instant, I became a small bird. After hopping around for a moment, I took flight and circled above the wizards’ heads. They waved their wands again, and mid-flight, I transformed back into a human. This was a clear sign that the transformation had been flawless, performed at an impressively high level.

 

“Excellent, excellent,” Dumbledore said with satisfaction. The wizards’ discussion of my transformation was brief this time. “And now, the final transformation.”

 

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll transfigure an aquarium for myself.”

 

With a few waves of my wand, a large aquarium appeared in the center of the room, big enough for me to fit in several times over. This was done to minimize the risk of injury in case something went wrong with the transformation.

 

Next, I filled the aquarium with fresh water, perfectly suited for me. Another wave of the wand conjured small steps leading into and out of the aquarium. Climbing the steps, I took one last look around the room. In the next moment, I jumped into the aquarium, transforming mid-air.

 

Submerged in the water, I took my first breath. The discomfort was palpable. I could feel the temperature of the water, as well as its weight. It was easy enough to observe the wizards, but fish eyes were quite different from human ones. Without magic, it would have been more difficult. After swimming for about three minutes, I decided it was time to return to human form.

 

With a pulse of will, the magic turned my body back into a human. To avoid choking, I used a spell to yank myself out of the water. Legend has it that a wizard named Münchhausen developed this spell. Whether that’s true or not, it didn’t matter to me.

 

With a few spells, I dried my clothes and made myself presentable. Only then did I clear the water, steps, and finally the aquarium itself. At last, I could relax a bit—there would be no more tests now. Everything rested in the hands of the commission.

 

“Excellent work, Mr. Jody,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “You’ve truly demonstrated an outstanding level of skill. Now, we will discuss your performance, so I ask that you leave the room and return in an hour.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Leaving the room, I headed toward a lonely chair in the corner. It looked quite comfortable, so I sat down, stretched out my legs, and began to unwind.

 

The exam had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. It had been a long time since I’d felt this tired. Still, I was confident that all the effort would pay off in the near future. Becoming a master was a whole different level from being a bachelor.

 

The structure of guilds always fascinated me. Different countries excelled in various branches of magic. For instance, only a few branches of the Transfiguration Guild existed worldwide, each headed by an Archmagister. These were in England, Germany, and Japan. And everyone knew Dumbledore was the strongest Archmagister among those who had earned the title. Other guild branches were run by Magisters. France, for example, hadn’t had a modern Archmagister in a long time—except for Flamel, who continued to lead a reclusive life, ignoring all attempts to contact him. All in all, being a master of the Transfiguration Guild in England was a status that many other countries would have to reckon with.

 

The wait wasn’t long. I even managed to meditate a little. When the door to the room opened, I was ready for what was to come. Entering the room again, I found the wizards smiling.

 

“Timothy Jody,” Dumbledore addressed me. “After discussing today’s exam and your performance, this esteemed commission has decided that you meet the high standards required to be granted the title of Master, both in name and skill. Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you,” I nodded to the headmaster and then addressed the larger group. “Thank you all for today’s exam. I am honored to join such a distinguished group of wizards, and I promise to continue advancing both myself and the field of Transfiguration.”

 

Applause broke out—something I hadn’t expected. I thought the wizards would simply nod in acknowledgment of my words and go about their business.

 

“To keep it brief,” Dumbledore continued, “on behalf of the entire guild, I would like to present you with the Master’s ring of Transfiguration. Wear it with honor and dignity.”

 

“Thank you,” I nodded. I slipped the bachelor’s ring into my pocket, replacing it with the Master’s ring. It was slightly heavier, but not so much that it would be bothersome over time.

 

One by one, the wizards approached to congratulate me.

 

“On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, we congratulate you on reaching this level,” said the Ministry representative. The second official simply nodded. “We would be glad to have you among our ranks. With the title of Master, you can certainly expect to be offered an attractive position in one of our departments.”

 

“Thank you,” I nodded. “I’m not ready to decide what I’ll do next. First, I’ll focus on my N.E.W.T.s, and after that, we’ll see.”

 

The Ministry wizard nodded in understanding. It was clear I wasn’t planning to rush into working for them right away.

 

To be honest, working at the Ministry didn’t appeal to me at the moment. I wanted to travel, explore the world, meet other wizards, and learn about their magical practices and methods of casting spells. After all, you never know how things might unfold in the future.

 

“We understand,” the wizard said with another nod. “Once again, congratulations on achieving this rank.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

With that, the Ministry officials left the room, and I immediately felt the atmosphere lighten. The expressions on the masters’ faces became more open and friendly, and the mood shifted to something more relaxed and informal.

 

“And now, it’s time to celebrate this event among our small circle,” Dumbledore announced, clapping his hands.

 

In an instant, the desks and chairs disappeared, replaced by a large round table with enough seats for everyone present. The table was laden with various dishes, each more enticing than the last, their aromas making my stomach grumble, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in quite some time.

 

Everyone took their seats and began helping themselves to food, pouring drinks, and chatting with one another. I found myself sitting between Dumbledore and McGonagall, which put me at ease, as I didn’t have to engage too much with the other wizards.

 

“You performed exceptionally well,” McGonagall said. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to make such progress since your last exam.”

 

“Yes, it wasn’t easy,” I nodded.

 

“And considering the situation you found yourself in last summer…” She shook her head in mild disbelief. “But once again, I’m very proud of you.”

 

“Professor, without your teaching and support, it would’ve been much harder to achieve this,” I replied sincerely. “So thank you, truly.”

 

McGonagall nodded in acknowledgment, though I could tell she appreciated the sentiment.

 

“You know, Mr. Jody,” Dumbledore chimed in, “I was particularly impressed by your bird transformation demonstration. It was quite remarkable.”

 

“Thank you, Archmagister,” I replied formally, as he had requested during the exam. I didn’t mind the title, especially in professional settings. Of course, at school, I would address him as Headmaster, as usual.

 

The evening progressed, and as the esteemed wizards began to wrap up their celebration and head home, I knew it was time for me to return to Hogwarts. I looked forward to a few weeks of rest before diving back into expanding my knowledge in other disciplines. I wasn’t too worried about my N.E.W.T.s.

 

My return to Hogwarts was quiet and uneventful. I apparated to Hogsmeade, then transformed into a bird to fly back to the dormitory. As I entered through the window, I immediately realized I shouldn’t have left it open. I quickly closed it and cast a warming charm to bring the room back to a comfortable temperature. It helped.

 

Exiting the common room, I spotted Hermione sitting gloomily with Potter and Weasley. Frankly, I still didn’t quite understand how she had become friends with those two troublemakers. From what I’d observed, they were always up to something, with an unhealthy fixation on Snape. It drove them to comb through the library in search of information. These first-year students thought they could conduct their research discreetly, but it was far from the truth. If they asked for help, they’d get it, but otherwise… no chance.

 

As I passed by them, Isolde and Dorsani caught up with me.

 

“So, how did it go?” Isolde asked eagerly, jumping straight in.

 

“It went well,” I said with a grin. “Actually, better than well… everything went perfectly.”

 

I showed them my new Master’s ring. Isolde and Dorsani both froze. Isolde leaned in slightly to get a closer look and, in a hushed voice, asked:

 

“Is that… it?”

 

“It is.”

 

I understood why she was staring at the ring like that. For her, achieving the title of Master was a significant life goal—one she had only just begun working toward. She still had a long journey ahead to reach that level.

 

“Congratulations,” she said softly. “I still have a long way to go before I reach that level.”

 

“You’ll get there too,” I reassured her.

 

“That’s for sure,” she replied with determination.

 

Later, I shared the news with Nymphadora, but no one else. The word didn’t spread through the school since the girls weren’t the type to gossip. Either the news would reach others through the papers or come from their parents. The Slytherin students, in particular, would likely take notice.

 

I was right. The first sign came when a beautiful owl arrived, carrying a large, elegant letter. It landed gracefully and extended its leg, presenting the letter tied to it. From the quality of the parchment and the writing, it was clear that this wasn’t from just anyone.

 

It was a congratulatory letter from Narcissa Malfoy, filled with flowery compliments on my recent achievement of reaching the rank of Master. Subtly, she hinted at a small favor she might ask of me in the future. At the end, she made a request: to quietly keep an eye on her son, Draco Malfoy, though without him realizing it.

 

I glanced over at Draco, who was staring at the owl with mild confusion. He seemed to recognize it. Sitting nearby was little Daphne Greengrass, her face displaying practiced indifference. Without drawing attention, I continued reading the rest of the letter, which also included an invitation to visit the Malfoy estate in the summer. It seemed like I was beginning to attract attention from those involved in larger political circles. Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa’s husband, was a prominent figure in the Ministry and the wizarding community. I had no doubt he would want to meet the new Master of the Transfiguration Guild, likely to gauge how useful I might be to him.

 

The letter also included the coordinates of their estate. I responded positively to both the invitation and the request to keep an eye on young Malfoy. It wouldn’t be difficult, as it wouldn’t demand much of my time. I was also curious to meet Lucius Malfoy and establish some form of connection with him. Power and skill are important, but knowing the right people often solves problems much faster.

 

After making my decision, I released the owl, which flew off as gracefully as it had arrived.

 

Keeping an eye on a first-year wasn’t challenging, though I quickly noticed Draco was in constant conflict with Potter, Weasley, and Hermione. While the first two didn’t particularly interest me, I did feel a bit sorry for Hermione at times. Although… she could hold her own quite well, often provoking Draco with her sharp tongue, which usually led him to reach for his wand. This, of course, immediately escalated into retaliation from the Boy Who Lived and his redheaded friend.

 

At one point, Potter, Hermione, and Neville Longbottom got into serious trouble, losing a total of one hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor—fifty from each of them. This immediately set them against their entire house, which had been competing with Slytherin for the top spot in points. The incident dropped Gryffindor to last place.

 

This led to a boycott from the entire house. Surprisingly, only Isolde, Dorsani, and I didn’t care about the points. Later that evening, there was even a small falling-out between Potter and Weasley. Weasley was the first to start boycotting his friends over the lost points, and it didn’t look good at all. If I were in Potter’s shoes, I wouldn’t forget such a betrayal.

 

The next morning, I received a note from McGonagall asking if someone could accompany the four students as they served their punishment that evening. I had a feeling I knew what she was referring to, especially since Draco didn’t seem to be in a good mood either. Knowing their dynamic, it wasn’t hard to piece together what was going on.

 

At eleven o’clock that night, I followed Potter, Longbottom, and Hermione without revealing myself. At the entrance to the school, they were met by Filch and Malfoy, who looked thoroughly displeased.

 

“Mr. Jody,” Filch greeted me with a nod. “You’re here too. Excellent.”

 

“Oh, Timothy,” Hermione said, surprised. “Were you punished as well?”

 

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m just here to escort you.”

 

The kids had no choice but to accept this. Hagrid was already waiting for us, dressed in outdoor gear with a massive crossbow slung across his broad back. Alongside the crossbow were long, dangerous-looking bolts. To be honest, I wouldn’t want to be hit by one of those.

 

“Good evening,” Hagrid greeted us.

 

“I brought them, Hagrid,” Filch said. “They’re all yours.”

 

“Thanks,” Hagrid nodded, then turned to me. “Mr. Jody, good to see you too.”

 

“Yes,” I replied. “Professor McGonagall asked me to help.”

 

“Excellent, excellent,” Hagrid said, nodding in approval. “So, what we’ll be doing tonight is simple. We’re heading into the Forbidden Forest to look for signs or remains of unicorns. Someone’s been killing these magnificent creatures and drinking their blood.”

 

“Drinking unicorn blood?” I asked, shocked.

 

“Yeah, crazy, innit?” Hagrid shrugged. “But we need to find any traces or clues.”

 

Drinking unicorn blood… it’s one of the darkest acts imaginable. Not only does it prolong life, but it comes with a terrible curse. The person who drinks the blood is doomed, tainted forever. Sure, it might keep them alive, but at what cost? I couldn’t fathom the desperation that would drive someone to such an act.

 

“Are we really going into the forest?” Malfoy asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

 

“Scared?” Potter immediately taunted. “I thought you were a brave wizard…”

 

“Shut up, Potter,” Malfoy snapped. “I’m not scared, just… cautious.”

 

“Both of you, quiet,” Hagrid said sternly. “Now, we’re splitting up. Malfoy and Longbottom, you’re with me. Timothy, will you go with the others?”

 

“Yes,” I nodded.

 

“Then I’ll take the others,” Hagrid said. “And I’ll send Fang along with you.”

 

The dog, a massive boarhound, obediently came over to me, sniffing at the students. Malfoy and Longbottom didn’t look particularly pleased, but they didn’t argue.

 

“All right, we’ll take this path,” Hagrid pointed to a trail. “Timothy, you take the other one.”

 

“Got it.”

 

We parted ways, with Hagrid leading Potter and Hermione deeper into the forest. I took Malfoy and Longbottom along the other path.

 

The dynamic between the first-years was immediately clear. Neville was quiet and seemed a bit nervous, while Draco was… well, still Draco. I kept my thoughts about him to myself.

 

“Keep your eyes open,” I advised them. “You don’t want to get bitten or worse… eaten. And keep your wands ready.”

 

Both boys followed my advice. Malfoy held his wand with confidence, while Longbottom looked like he was trying to keep his as far from his face as possible. Odd.

 

“Mr. Jody,” Malfoy addressed me, his tone slightly haughty. “Why did you receive a letter from my family?”

 

“For business,” I replied calmly.

 

“Business that probably concerns me as well,” he said, pressing further. “Care to share?”

 

“No,” I replied just as calmly.

 

“But you received a letter from my family,” he insisted. “So you should tell me. Or I might have to inform my father.”

 

I stopped walking. This boy was too bold for his own good. I understood—rich family, powerful father, influential mother. But he needed to learn a bit of respect for others. Not only was he entitled, but now he was threatening me.

 

“Mr. Malfoy,” I said, turning to him, “you’d better watch where you step. You wouldn’t want to fall face-first into centaur dung. It wouldn’t be pleasant.”

 

Then I turned and continued walking. This time, Draco stayed quiet, though it was clear he was fuming.

 

We continued along the path, occasionally spotting harmless magical creatures and sometimes ones that could be dangerous if provoked. Neither of the boys made any attempt to engage with the creatures, which was probably for the best.

 

After a while, I noticed something shimmering on the ground. It was a silvery liquid, glowing with magic—unmistakably unicorn blood. I think we found fresh traces of a wounded unicorn.

 

Gripping my wand a little tighter, I moved forward cautiously. Draco and Neville followed, barely breathing, fear radiating from them. Understandable, given the dark reputation of drinking unicorn blood. No one in their right mind would want to encounter the kind of person capable of such an act.

 

As we advanced, the droplets of blood grew larger and more frequent. A chilling mist began to settle over the area. It was clear this fog wasn’t natural—too heavy, too uniform.

 

We reached the edge of a clearing, and on the other side lay the white, horse-like figure of a unicorn. A dark-cloaked figure crouched over it, drinking the blood straight from the wound. The moment it sensed our presence, it froze and whipped around to face us.

 

I saw its face, smeared with the silvery liquid, dripping into the shadows of its hood. In the next instant, a powerful mental attack slammed against my Occlumency shields. But strangely, it didn’t feel like a full-force attack—more like a fraction of it. Odd.

 

I shot a fountain of sparks into the sky, signaling Hagrid. Fang, who had been quietly sticking close to me, began trembling and whimpering. Malfoy and Longbottom, panic etched on their faces, followed my lead, firing sparks into the air as well.

 

The dark figure drew a wand and charged at me. With a sharp flick of my wand, I conjured a Protego shield just in time to block the first barrage of spells. More spells came flying, each deflected by my shield.

 

“Avada Kedavra!” the figure hissed, unleashing the killing curse.

 

The green jet of light shot toward me, but I knew exactly what to do. With a quick gesture, I conjured a swirl of sand around me. The deadly curse struck the sand, dissipating harmlessly, while I counterattacked.

 

The sand instantly transformed into steel rods, which I sent hurtling toward the dark wizard. He spun, casting a magical wave that dispersed my attack, then launched a Bombarda in return. I caught the spell on the tip of my wand and redirected it harmlessly into the trees, where it exploded, sending chunks of bark flying.

 

“We’re coming!” I heard Hagrid’s booming voice in the distance.

 

The dark wizard understood that reinforcements were on their way. He performed several complex wand movements, summoning a massive, fiery snake that roared to life, lighting up the forest with a menacing red glow.

 

But I wasn’t afraid, not even a little. With a few quick gestures, I conjured an ice wall in the path of the fiery serpent. The snake crashed through the first barrier, shattering it, but it was noticeably smaller and weaker.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark figure turn into black smoke and fly up into the night sky, disappearing into the clouds. But I still had the fiery serpent to deal with. Another flick of my wand conjured more barriers, which the serpent broke through, though each time it grew weaker. Finally, with one last spell, I dispersed the fiery snake completely, snuffing out its glow and letting the night reclaim the forest.

 

That was unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated running into such a dangerous wizard in the Forbidden Forest. Turning back to Malfoy and Longbottom, I saw only fear etched on their faces. It seemed the mental attack had affected them as well. Kneeling down, I checked their eyes. Thankfully, they seemed unharmed, just deeply shaken.

 

At that moment, Hagrid burst out of the bushes, his crossbow at the ready, with Potter and Hermione following closely behind. The gamekeeper quickly surveyed the scene, taking in the signs of the battle and the dead unicorn before rushing over to us. If there had been any immediate danger, he would have fired without hesitation.

 

“How are they?” Hagrid asked, looking at the first-years.

 

“They’re in shock, terrified,” I replied. “But they’re fine.”

 

“What happened here?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

 

“We found the bastard who’s been drinking the unicorn’s blood. We startled him, and I had to engage him in a magical duel.” I told him the truth calmly.

 

“And you? You all right?” Hagrid asked, concern in his voice.

 

“I’m fine,” I answered. “I wasn’t expecting a fight, but I’m okay.”

 

“Hm-m,” Hagrid muttered thoughtfully.

 

He stepped over to the dead unicorn, its blood no longer flowing, the magic in it slowly fading away. Just then, the bushes rustled again. Wands and crossbows were raised, but it wasn’t necessary. A tall centaur emerged from the underbrush.

 

“Firenze,” Hagrid greeted the centaur, lowering his crossbow. “What brings you here?”

 

“Mars shines brightly tonight,” Firenze said cryptically. “Especially over this clearing. I came to help, my friend Hagrid.”

 

“Did you see what happened?” Hagrid asked, lowering his weapon completely.

 

“Both yes and no. Mars governs all,” the centaur replied, as vague as ever.

 

“Right,” Hagrid sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get more useful information out of the centaur. “We need to get them back. Madam Pomfrey will need to check them over.”

 

We made our way back to the castle, with Firenze accompanying us almost to the edge of the forest before disappearing back into the shadows. At the forest’s edge, a small group awaited us—Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey.

 

The first-years were immediately whisked away by the school nurse, while Hagrid and I were called into Dumbledore’s office for a more thorough debriefing.