A/N: A nice long one for you to make up for last time. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 10: A Walk In The Forest

It was now March, with only a few weeks to go until the Easter holidays, and Harry considered the term well spent, all things considered. True, they had found out nothing more about the mysterious Flamel, or the exact nature of the stone that was being hidden on the third floor, but it seemed that nothing was happening regarding a possible attempt at theft; consequentially, the apathy that had washed over Harry regarding the stone over the holidays had now spread to the others. Ron had threatened to hex anyone who mentioned Flamel or stones in his hearing for the rest of the year, Neville flatly refused to do any more research, and even Hermione, who seemed to have made the library her second home, had stopped searching with quite the same fervour. Her chosen 'light reading' was still the heavy variety of academic tome, so there was still a chance of an accidental discovery, but by and large, they had put the matter to the back of their minds, awaiting further developments, of which there had only been one since the beginning of term.

January, first week of term:

The Gryffindor and Slytherin students had been waiting in the dungeon classroom for Professor Snape, mentally preparing themselves, after the long holiday, for Snape's customary entrance – the door slamming, followed by a rapid walk to the front of the room, robes billowing like dark wings, before turning to them, his ugly face illuminated from below by the glow of whatever potion he happened to be brewing at the time as he sneered at them.

This time, there was a significant difference.

The door had slammed shut as usual, and every student in the room had sat bolt upright, eyes forward and lips sealed, expecting Snape to stride briskly to the front as usual. Instead, he had, rather slowly, limped to the front of the dungeon, clearly favouring his right leg. Those students unlucky enough to have aisle seats leaned away as he passed, noses wrinkling as if for some reason the Potions Master had contrived to make his body odour even worse than it usually was. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville exchanged glances; clearly, Snape's wound was still affecting him, and seemed to have somehow become infected. This was fairly understandable. Cerberus' were rare creatures, and even Hagrid would be hard pressed to have treatment for wounds inflicted by one easily available, and it's dental hygiene would be rather suspect in any case.

Despite the academic curiosity of what had caused the infection in Snape's leg, the incident would have passed with little more interest than was traditionally afforded to student gossip, had Harry not raised his hand as Snape reached the front desk. Snape glared at him, somehow managing to raise an even greater level of hatred from somewhere within his body and project it all into his expression.

"Well Potter? What do you want?"

"Oh, well sir, I was just wondering… What have you done to your leg?" Ron snorted, and Snape's expression, amazingly, darkened even further.

"That is none of your business Potter. Detention for breath-taking impertinence, and 5 points from Gryffindor. Your father would be so proud you are following in his noble traditions. Weasley, same for you, although I think we can stretch to two nights detention for you. Now, the Dreamless Sleep potion…"

Harry sat back, frowning. The detention didn't particularly bother him, it had been worth it to see the look on Snape's face, and he was confident that he would earn at least double the points he had lost with his Transfiguration project, but the remark about his father had stung. He was well aware of the animosity between his father and Snape, and indeed between Snape and Sirius, and to a lesser extent Remus and Peter, and he was well aware of the reasons behind that animosity; the idea he sometimes acted like his father upset him, even if the accusation did come from someone as clearly biased as Snape. Still, Neville and Ron could be relied upon – hopefully – to tell him if he did start drifting into that kind of behaviour, and he had a long way to go before he was hexing people because he didn't like the colour of their robes.

Coming back to the present, Harry noticed Draco trying to catch his eye. As he met the blonde's gaze, Draco inclined his head towards Snape, a curious expression on his face. Harry mouthed "Later" at him, before turning his attention to the potion he was supposed to be brewing.

Harry winced at the latter part of that memory; when they had explained everything to Draco (Ron having made an unusually sensible exit, to avoid arguments), the Slytherin had been far from impressed. Harry supposed he really should have remembered that Snape was Draco's godfather before going into detail about their suspicions regarding his character. He, Hermione and Neville had eventually retreated under the barrage of jinxes and swearing, and Draco had been somewhat aloof around them for several weeks.

However, arguments and the occasional snide remark directed at Snape aside (which he always heard somehow; never mind looking like one, he definitely had the ears of a bat), the term had been an excellent one thus far.

Flying lessons, which had now finished so that the students could concentrate on more 'useful' subjects (a notion which offended Harry and Ron greatly), had become much more fun since Madame Hooch had seen him flying on a Saturday afternoon; after yelling herself hoarse for trying the kinds of stunts he had been, she had dragged him to a fifth year named Oliver Wood, telling him that Harry would be on the Gryffindor Quidditch in whatever position was free, and lessons since then had featured an advanced group for the better flyers – the one advanced group Hermione could never be entered in, much to her annoyance.

Transfiguration was still easily Harry's best subject, now even outstripping Hermione – an event which, when made public knowledge, had inspired the twins to hold a ceremony in the common room, passing on the 'patented Percy Weasley know-it-all chain of office' to Harry. The chain had been made up of little books, which had been charmed to open at random and shout "Extreme Know-It-All" in a helium voice; strangely, Harry (and Percy it had to be said) was the only person who didn't find the whole thing side-splittingly funny, although he could at least admit that it was a brilliant piece of magic.

Best of all, in Harry's view, was the decline in interest in him. At the beginning of the year, large groups of people kept popping up to stare at his scar and whisper about him. Meals had been awful, a whole room full of people waiting to see him do something interesting and heroic. As the year went on, it had become increasingly obvious (well, apart from the troll incident, and that was hardly Harry's fault) that he was depressingly normal, and now he was just part of the background, just another student, albeit with an unusual facial deformity.

Of course, History of Magic and Defence against the Dark Arts were still unworthy of the name 'lessons', but Harry was still happy to study those subjects in his spare time. Speaking of Quirrell… The man was looking curiously worried these days. His hair had a distinctly rumpled look to it, as if he spent a lot of time running his hands through it in frustration, and he was often to be seen sweating, and darting looks into dark corners. His reaction to the troll at Halloween had cemented the idea of him as a coward, and people – the twins especially – had taken to gasping in mock horror and pointing at the 'horrible creature' behind him, before running away sniggering as he turned round, cowering. Merlin knew what he was so scared of, but it was certainly having an effect on him.

Anyway. Enough mindless ponderings – he needed to find something to do. Hermione was frantically trying to fit in everything the Library had on sleeping potions for her essay, which would inevitably result in a poor grade and derision from Snape, but she flat-out refused to adopt the other, rather more popular method for Potions homework, namely scribbling just enough accurate information to scrape a pass. Neville was messing around in the greenhouses, and Ron was in a rare detention with Flitwick; the kindly old man's patience had been pushed to the limit by Ron's inaccurate levitation charm in a revision session, which had nearly sent the Charms professor through the ceiling. Draco was returning to his normal manner now, although it had to be said that that was still far from warm and friendly, and besides, he would be closeted in the Slytherin common room with the other snakes.

A grin spread across Harry's face. It had been a while – too long – since he had been to see Hagrid. The groundskeeper could always be relied upon for a friendly chat and a cup of tea, and usually rock hard cakes, which could be taken for skimming in the lake later in the day.

As Harry meandered down the Grand Staircase he noticed, a couple of floors below him, the rather strange boy who had recognised him on the train at the start of the year… What was his name again? Smith, that was it, Zacharias Smith. He hadn't seen the boy since, that he was aware of at any rate, and he would have ignored him on this occasion were it not for the fact that he was just sitting there, staring at the wall. There was no portrait on the particular section of wall he was gazing at, a rare blank space, but Smith seemed devoted to it. As Harry stepped off the staircase onto the landing, the pale Hufflepuff swivelled his head round, as if on a pivot, to look at Harry.

"Hello Harry Potter."

"Umm… Hi. Are… Are you ok?" The boy nodded.

"I am fine thank you." The boy's silvery, rather large eyes were holding Harry quite still; he had an uncomfortable idea that he would be unable to move if he tried.

"Be careful Harry Potter." This caused Harry to raise his eyebrows incredulously; it wasn't everyday someone he barely knew stopped him to give him warnings… or was it a threat?

"And why do I need to be careful? I'm not in the habit of doing dangerous stuff you know... Well, not a regular habit anyway…"

"I'm sure you are not. But they are."

"And just who might 'they' be?" Smith smiled gently.

"That is not for you to know at this time Harry Potter. Just… Be careful. Farewell Harry Potter." With that, he picked up his bag and turned to leave. Released from whatever had been holding him still, Harry almost stumbled backwards.

"Hey, what do you mean it's not… Oi! Come back here - " But Smith had already disappeared down another corridor. Still stood on the landing, it suddenly came to Harry that he could move, and he ran to the corridor Smith had disappeared down. It was empty. And even if Smith had been running, there was no way he could have reached the other end of the corridor in the time he had had. Harry stared down the corridor blankly, before shaking his head in bemusement. "You don't have to be seriously weird to study here but…"

Carrying on down the staircase, he mulled over Smith's warning, or possible threat. The only people he knew of who might want to hurt him were any uncaptured Death Eaters; nobody was really certain how many had bought their way out of Azkaban, or how many had just simply never been found. It was however fairly certain that there were still a few out there; for instance, the spy who had betrayed his parents and Sirius to Voldemort had never really been uncovered, although it was most likely to have been Caradoc Dearborn – he had been the Longbottom's Secret Keeper, and had not been seen in years, widely believed to have gone into hiding after betraying both families to their fates. But Smith was eleven years old, and if Harry remembered correctly, the Smith's were a Light Pureblood family, so devoted to their beliefs that they wouldn't even defend themselves against attackers; it was extremely unlikely that he or his family were in contact with former Death Eaters. Other than that, Harry could think of no-one who might want to hurt him. Oh, there were people who didn't particularly like him, for one reason or another, but that was just ordinary unpleasantness, not a desire to harm. And he could think of no other reason why Smith might tell him to 'Be careful'. Of course, he was the product of a very old Pureblood family; if rumours of Pureblood inbreeding were true than that would explain a lot of things about a lot of people…

Still pondering the strange encounter, Harry wandered down through the stone circle to Hagrid's hut. He was about to knock on the door when he heard voices from inside. It was Professor Quirrell and Hagrid.

"No really H-H-Hagrid, I assure you I'm s-simply f-f-fascinated by the beast. He must be the v-v-very d-devil to c-cont-trol."

"Nah, Fluffy's ok, just likes a bit o' music now and again. Gotta be good music mind, he knows what he likes. And nothin' too modern, just annoys him, makes him angry. But you get a violin goin' or a decent singer, an' he's gentle as a lamb. Dunno why the Ministry's so down on 'em really…"

"Ah well H-H-Hagrid, you know as well as anyone the inco-inco-incompetence of the M-M-Minstry… they fear anything even m-mildly d-d-dark.

"True, I suppose so. Still, it's great to see ya takin' an interest Professor, it really is! Ain't many of the staff really unnerstand magical creatures, think takin' care of 'em's just like herdin' cattle!"

"I can see that would u-upset you my dear fellow. But I'm afraid I m-must be g-going, I do have a l-lot of w-w-work to do. P-perhaps we could c-carry on this discussion an-another time?"

"Be happy to Professor, here, let me get the door for ya…" And Hagrid opened the door right in Harry's face, knocking him over.

"P-Potter! What are you d-doing?" Harry frantically scrabbled to stand up; he could be in real trouble here.

"I… I was just coming to see Hagrid sir, I, well, we've known each other for a while and I sometimes - " Quirrell's eyes narrowed; once again, Harry could see that strange look in his eye.

"Don't lie to m-me P-Potter, you were k-kneeling down! Eavesdropping! D-d-detention Potter, f-Friday evening."

"Oh come on now Professor, Harry didn' mean any 'arm by it didja Harry? He's a curious lad, an' ya said yerself that Fluffy was fascinatin'!"

"I s-suppose that is t-true… N-nevertheless, we can't have this k-kind of thing Hagrid, an ex-example must be made. But I s-suppose I can leave that in your c-capable hands H-Hagrid. T-think up something s-suitable and let me k-know when and w-where. And d-don't let me catch you misbehaving again P-Potter!" And with that, Quirrell strode off, Hagrid and Harry looking after him.

"Blimey 'Arry, never seen 'im like that before! Usually as mild as anythin'! Ah well, I'm sure I can cook up summat fun for your detention, how's about that then?" Harry looked at him.

"I don't really think you get the idea of detention Hagrid, but believe me, I'm not complaining!"

Later in the day, Harry was telling his friends about the incident over dinner; they had all agreed that it was most unlike the timid Defence teacher to raise his voice, let alone hand out a detention. Ron was rather impressed, being of the opinion that the twins had finally achieved their aim of driving a teacher mad. Hermione however, had a rather more startling suggestion.

"What if it wasn't just curiosity Harry? We know Fluffy's guarding something; what if Quirrell's the one who wants to steal it, and Snape's just, I don't know, making sure the protections are still working or something?" Harry snorted in amusement.

"You have met Quirrell haven't you Hermione? Ok, he might be able to get past Fluffy, but I can't see him being up to the other protections on the thing – if Fluffy's stage one, I'd hate to see what the others are, they must be horrible! Quirrell couldn't defend himself against a stiff breeze, let alone magical defences."

"He could be pretending!"

"Hermione, if he's that good an actor, he's in the wrong business. Trust me, Quirrell's worse than useless."

"Hm!" Hermione tossed her head back in disgust, before turning away from them to concentrate on her dinner. Harry, Ron and Neville continued to mutter about the unusual incident in hushed tones, until they were interrupted by the arrival of Quirrell himself.

"P-Potter, you will be s-serving your d-det-detention with Hagrid on Friday night, at 8.30. He will be t-taking you into the F-Forest, so wrap up w-warm won't you? And do be c-careful…" Harry stared at him as he walked back to the staff table.

"The Forest! He said he'd think up something fun! Merlin… what's he playing at? Too right I'll be careful. Hang on… Be careful… That's something else I didn't tell you guys; you know Zacharias Smith? He's in Hufflepuff. The one who was being weird on the train back in September, bit pale, funny looking. Don't worry Hermione, you weren't there, you wouldn't remember it." Ron looked typically bemused, although Neville nodded cautiously.

"Well, it was when I was going down to see Hagrid; I saw Smith just sitting on the stairs, staring at the wall, like it was something really important. Not a portrait, just a bare bit of stone. Anyway, when I got down to his level, he just looked at me, and just told me to be careful!"

"Well if you will go walking all over people…" Harry glared at Ron.

"I didn't walk over him you prat, he just told me to be careful. Told me that 'they' were in the habit of doing dangerous stuff. Didn't bother to specify who 'they' were of course…"

Neville raised an eyebrow. "He was threatening you? Doesn't seem the type…" Harry shrugged.

"Threatening me, warning me, I dunno what he wanted. It was seriously weird though. And then he walked off and apparently vanished into thin air, like he's got a Cloak like mine. Like I say, weird."

"But that doesn't make sense. We'd have heard about any bullies by now, directly or indirectly, so you can't be someone's new target. And who else would want to hurt you?" Rather than worrying about the statement 'Be careful' itself, Hermione seemed more worried about the logic behind it, a fact in itself rather worrisome in Harry's view.

"The only possibility I can come up with is former Death Eaters, but that doesn't make sense either; they've never tried to attack me before, well, they can't when I'm at home, and Voldemort – please stop whining Ron – Voldemort himself didn't try and take on Dumbledore, so an out of practice Death Eater wouldn't, they'd have to be mad."

Neville smiled thinly. "So what's the conclusion Sherlock?"

"Basically, if Smith's telling the truth about someone wanting to hurt me – whatever his motive – I need to keep an eye out. If he isn't, then he's just crazy. Either way, a little caution never hurt anyone right?" The others nodded cautiously, Hermione still looking annoyed at the illogical qualities of daily life at Hogwarts. Suddenly Ron smiled.

"Well, you are going into the Forest; maybe this Smith bloke's a Seer, and was warning you about that? What, I'm just saying, no need to look like that…"

Friday evening

"Come on boy, shift yourself! And don't look at me like that you little toe-rag, it's your fault you're here, should 'ave thought about that before you went poking your ugly little nose in shouldn't ya! Heh, well, the Forest'll soon straighten you out lad, oh yes, you're going to have a… memorable time in there and no mistake!"

Harry glared at the odious caretakers back in disgust; he couldn't believe that Dumbledore would employ such a man. On the other hand, Dumbledore actually seemed to like Snape, not just tolerate him… But gloating about a student – a first year at that! – going into possible danger… There was no excuse for that. He had a sneaking suspicion even Snape would have refrained from showing pleasure at the thought of a student being subjected to danger. Felt it maybe, but showed it, never. Filch was actually chuckling to himself now! Harry was slightly comforted by the fact that he was with Hagrid; he knew the man would never knowingly put him, or anyone for that matter, in danger, it was just that he had a rather strange idea of what danger was…

Speaking of Hagrid… Harry could see a lantern not too far away now, and there was a dog barking – Fang presumably. Mrs Norris turned tail and fled at the sound.

"Come on Filch! Haven' got all evenin' you know! Need ta be underway if he's ta get any sleep at all."

"All right, all right, just making sure he understands the lesson he should be learning Hagrid…" The enormous man frowned.

"Gloatin' and generally makin' a nuisance of yerself ya mean. Not your place to be rantin' at 'im, you just make sure he gets here all safe and sound like."

"Huh. Just so long as you don't go easy on him – he's no different to the other brats, no matter how many scars he's got!"

"Get outta here ya miserable old git!" Filch scowled at Hagrid, but seemed to decide pressing the matter might be a bad idea. He turned to head back to the castle, pausing only for one last jibe at Harry, with a cruel sneer;

"Have fun won't you…" Harry and Hagrid watched the caretaker slowly walk back up the hill to the castle; as soon as he was out of sight, bar the light from the lantern he was carrying, Hagrid turned and looked down at Harry, an excited expression just visible behind his beard.

"Now then, you ready for off? Got summat real special in mind for ya, real special. There's not many people who've seen 'em before around here, real rare they are. Come on, let's get goin'!" And before Harry had a chance to collect his thoughts, Hagrid was striding off towards the Forbidden Forest, Fang running at his heels.

"Hagrid! Hagrid, wait a minute! What… What are we actually going to be doing?" Hagrid turned back, a look of surprise spreading across his face.

"What's the matter Harry?"

"Well… It's the Forest!" Hagrid chuckled.

"Oh, don't worry yerself about that, you'll be fine, you'll be with me! Course, wouldn' recommend it by yerself, there's some nasty things in the Forest of an evening, but you stick with me and everything'll be jus' grand. And we ain't gonna be working Harry, got summat for ya to see…"

Mildly reassured by this – Harry was still well aware that whatever they were going to see could and likely would be a vicious predator – Harry set off after Hagrid, through a clearing at the edge of the trees, and onto the main path through the Forest.

As they walked along, Harry spent much of the journey staring at the trees, trying to work out why anyone would want to come into the Forest; all the students were given a warning against it at the beginning of the year, although it seemed largely to be aimed at Fred and George, but Harry couldn't find anything remotely exciting or attractive to see. The trees were all gnarled, twisted into strange and unpleasant shapes that cast unnerving shadows when seen from the corner of your eye. Occasionally, a dark shape would dart through the trees, only just visible in the dim light of Hagrid's lantern and Harry's wand; the trees were too thick above their heads to allow in any moon light, closing over them as if reaching down to pluck them from the ground.

And Harry had an unpleasant feeling of being watched; the hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to stand on end. It's ok, the reputations largely exaggeration; if there are werewolves in here, it's not a full moon. Centaurs won't hurt us if we don't hurt them. There can't be anything that dangerous in here, it's too close to the school, it's all just rumour… He moved closer to Hagrid and Fang anyway. Looking around him, he realised that the trees were now all around them. When they had entered the Forest, there had been vague attempts at order, with a neat line cut away for the path. Looking down, he realised that they weren't on the path anymore.

"Hagrid! Where… Where's the path? We've gone off the path!"

"Shush! Yes, I know we have – off the path's where all the best stuff is Harry! Don't worry; I know it doesn' look all that pretty, but you're gonna love it Harry, trust me! Not far to go now."

"But there's something out there, I can… feel it!"

"Harry, it's a forest, there's hundreds of little creatures out there! Come on, we're nearly there." And he set off again, Harry running to catch up.

A few more minutes walking, almost clinging to Hagrid, and Harry began to notice a warm, pale glow through the trees. He looked up at Hagrid curiously, but he only grinned and shook his head. They walked closer, when suddenly Hagrid stopped, motioning Harry to carry on alone. Harry crept forward, occasionally glancing backwards nervously, but Hagrid just kept smiling, repeating his gesture to move forward. The glow was becoming brighter and brighter, now recognizably silver as Harry reached the top of a slope, only to gasp in shock and delight.

The glow was coming from a herd of unicorns, mostly asleep. It was a large herd, roughly twenty of them, male, female and foal. From his position on top of the slope, Harry's face was bathed in the glow, and he could feel his magic stirring inside him, for the first time in his life, as if it was reacting to the purity of the creatures before him. He shifted slightly, to a more comfortable position, and froze as he snapped a twig. A male on the far side of the herd looked up, straight at his head, still clearly visible at the top of the slope. Harry could hear Hagrid calling him back, to hide, but he just couldn't understand why. It was perfectly obvious that the unicorn would no more hurt him than he would hurt the unicorn; it would be like asking him to hurt Dudley, something that would just never happen.

He stood up, and walked carefully down the slope, and stood there watching the unicorn as it picked its way gently through the rest of the herd, still asleep, and came to stand in front of Harry. It was taller than him, even without the foot long horn that Harry knew was perfectly capable of tearing him limb from limb so cleanly he wouldn't even feel it until the job had been done. A noise from the slope above startled the unicorn, and it took a step back, raising it's head to look at Hagrid, who was beckoning Harry frantically. Harry just smiled at him, before reaching out to the unicorn. It looked back at him, and Harry felt a similar sensation to his encounter with Smith earlier in the week; he did not think he could move. The unicorn took a step closer to him, and bowed its head, so the horn was resting on Harry's shoulder. An immense sense of warmth flooded Harry, stronger than any Cheering Charm, almost bringing him to his knees. His magic was even stronger in its response now, creating a slight breeze around him, picking up leaves and small twigs. He looked around him, and a change in the play of silvery light alerted him to something else; his eyes were glowing in response to the unicorn's pure Light magic, creating a sensation that echoed right down to his magical core.

As this happened, the unicorn raised its head slightly, as if it had heard some slight noise. It looked into his eyes again, before moving forward very slightly, so that its horn was just touching Harry's chest. It then bowed its head, dragging the horn down the front of Harry's robes. As it did so, the pleasurable sensation faded, making room for a painful headache. Clutching his head in pain and confusion, Harry realised that the unicorn had done something to the barrier of Dark magic around his magical core, something that would presumably benefit him. He reached his hand out slowly, stroking it gently. A silvery glow was left on his hand, although it faded as he watched.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." He whispered to the unicorn. To his utter astonishment, a voice echoed around his head, clearly not produced through vocal chords.

It was my pleasure Mighty One, friend of my kind. Never forget the power of what has happened here little one, even though you have a dark and gloomy road ahead of you; my kind will always provide you with friendship and assistance.

Harry stared in bewilderment. Snakes were one thing, but unicorns? He was about to make some reply, but the unicorn had already turned around, and was trotting back to its sleeping space. Harry turned and walked back towards Hagrid, who was standing there looking as if the world had turned upside down before his eyes.

"Blimey Harry, that… that was beautiful! What was happenin'? I've never even heard o' that happenin' before! What did ya do?"

"I… I don't know. It just sort of – seemed right. I can't explain it Hagrid, I wouldn't even know where to begin. Let's just get back to the castle all right? I'll try and explain after I've had some sleep."

They made the long walk back to the castle in silence; as Harry looked around him the Forest, although seemingly unchanged, seemed a far more pleasant surrounding, warm and welcoming rather than sinister and terrifying. The residual warmth from the unicorn's magic put a smile on his face, and he suddenly realised that he was humming to himself. He stopped himself hurriedly, catching an amused glance from Hagrid; Harry flushed self consciously.

About halfway between the clearing where the unicorns had been sleeping and the edge of the Forest, there was a spot where there were far fewer trees on either side of the path, although still too many for the spot to actually be called a clearing. As they walked through it, Hagrid held up his hand, motioning Harry to stop.

"Hagrid? What's wrong?"

"Shush! Thought I heard summat… Like there's somthin' followin' us…"

All of Harry's earlier nervousness came flooding back to him. The unicorn's warmth seemed to drain out of him, and the trees, which had seemed straight and normal, now looked more warped and unnatural, as if a glamour had been withdrawn from his eyes. Looking through the sparse trees, he thought he saw something move; he raised his wand higher, the light coming from the tip of it piercing through the trees in front of him. The sight made him relax, the only thing moving being some late night mist, although naturally even that had a sinister shade to it, looking more like smoke than mist. Actually, now he thought about it, the mist was moving very fast, and in their direction…

"Hagrid! What's that - "

Before he could finish his question, the cloud of smoke had billowed through the trees and he had been snatched up in it, taken flying at great speed through the unnatural Forest. He could just hear Hagrid calling his name, and Fang barking loudly, but within seconds they were barely an echo. He had only been flying for maybe twenty seconds when he was thrown away from the cloud, landing on his back at the foot of an almost vertical slope. The cloud seemed to run up the side of the slope, as if taunting him with the fact that it would be impossible to climb. About halfway up, it flew backwards from the slope, shooting down to the opposite side of the clearing to Harry, coalescing into the shape of a man – or human at least, distinction being impossible given the dark night and what seemed to be a heavy robe.

Harry stared at his assailant, who just stood there, unmoving, watching the young boy gather himself. Eventually, the figure moved, reaching into its robes for its wand. But by the time the wand had been drawn, a weirdly distorted voice crying the infamous words 'Avada Kedavra!', Harry had already begun to move, diving to the right while drawing his wand. He threw back the Disarming Jinx, running to the safety of a nearby oak tree while his opponent blocked the spell.

Cowering into the tree, breathing heavily, he heard his opponent start to snigger, quietly, still in the weirdly distorted voice that didn't sound human. The small part of Harry's brain that wasn't focussed on his opponent and survival noted that his opponent clearly wanted to protect their identity, and was using some charm to alter their voice; presumably, if Harry did manage to get a glimpse of their face, it would be altered by potion or spell as well. It was then that the figure called out to him.

"Oh dear Harry! I'd expected much more of a struggle than this! A simple Disarming spell and then you run away and hide? Your parents would be so disappointed… They died well, don't you want to do the same?"

Harry scowled, but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he looked up, and muttered a spell under his breath. He could hear the man – definitely a man, he was sure of it, even through the distorted voice – walking slowly across the clearing to the tree he was hiding behind. He readied himself, and as the man's arm reached around the tree, he swung the thick branch he had cut from the tree, hitting his opponent heavily in the stomach. As he staggered back, wheezing in pain, Harry leapt out from behind the tree, dropping the branch, raising his wand and crying out 'Flipendo'. The spell, normally used for target practice, was rather more powerful in his hands than other duellers, a fact his opponent found out to his cost as he was thrown a good five feet backwards, left sprawling on his back.

However, the man was clearly experienced – and, crucially, a good dueller. Even though the impact, so soon after being winded by a thick tree branch must have hurt him, he didn't even pause before rolling to the side to avoid Harry's 'Petrificus Totalus' and quickly cast a silent spell at Harry; he dodged it, unsure what effect it might have on a Shield charm. This brief pause had allowed his opponent to get to his feet, and he was wasting no time in pressing his advantage. Spell after spell found their way to Harry, some silent, some vocalized, and of those he could hear, Harry could only recognise a few of them. The barrage of unknown spells made it too risky for him to attempt a Shield charm, so again, he ran, bobbing and weaving through the hail of curses being shot at him, throwing himself behind a pair of large boulders. He looked at one of them, when suddenly an image of Hermione flashed into his mind. Harry grinned.

The mysterious man was now walking towards the boulders, wand still aimed at Harry's hiding place, when he half heard an incantation. He stopped, just as one of the boulders flew up in the air, before being sent flying towards him. He quickly cried 'Reducto!', but the resulting shower of smaller rocks still sent him reeling. Harry, who had observed the effect of this last spell with interest, sprinted out from his hiding place, firing off a Blasting spell himself; his inexperience with the spell made it a far weaker effort than his opponent's rather impressive explosion, but the pain of it striking him just above the pelvis was still enough for the man to cry out.

Sensing a duel winning advantage, Harry rushed forward, only to be caught by another silent casting, which left him suspended by the ankle in midair. Snarling his opponent pulled another wand out of his robe, using it to place a bind on the wound Harry had given him. His wound dealt with, he replaced the second wand, before gesturing with his primary wand. Harry was thrown right across the clearing, crashing into the slope with a nasty crack from his left arm and a ferocious jolt of pain. Harry clutched at his arm, almost weeping from the pain, which was backed up by an all too familiar throbbing headache, as the mysterious man strode towards him, wand raised, beginning to cast the Killing Curse for a second time. Again though, Harry was too quick; just managing to cast a Transfiguration spell that turned his opponent's right foot into a needle. As the man collapsed, Killing Curse flying off into the air, striking a tree, causing it to burst into flames, Harry slowly climbed to his feet, aimed his wand at his opponent, who had just managed to counter the basic Transfiguration, and cried out 'Expelliarmus!' The man's wand flew away from him, and Harry yelled in triumph, before lowering his wand. Quick as a flash, his opponent drew his secondary wand, moving it in a slashing movement as Harry tried to dodge and cast back at the same time. A line of purple fire flashed across Harry's chest; his eyes widened, before he collapsed to the ground. As he began to pass out, he started to see dark spots before his eyes, and he could just hear, as if from a great distance, someone – something – whispering.

The man stood up. He walked over to Harry, satisfying himself that the boy was, if not dead, then in no state to move around or cause trouble for a while. This done, he walked over to his primary wand, lying several feet away. As he picked it up, he heard a noise behind him. When he turned round, he saw, to his astonishment, Harry standing, watching him, an unfamiliar, almost predatory smile on his face. The man knew that after the last spell he had been hit with, Potter should have been dying slowly from internal injuries. Clearly, the boy was made of far stronger stuff than he had thought. As he watched, the famous scar seemed to split apart, and blood began to pour from it. As it did so, Harry began to chuckle. And to the man, who had seen a lot of weird and unpleasant stuff in his life, this was somehow the worst thing he had seen; a young boy, who ought to be wracked in pain from slowly liquefying internal organs, apparently laughing at the severe bleeding from his forehead.

The man raised his wand, but Harry only smiled contemptuously before flicking his wand in a lightning fast action. He felt his wrist break as it snapped back; he bit back a curse, before grabbing his wand with his other hand. He just managed to do that in time to block a very unpleasant Severing curse, which, if it had connected, would have left him an amputee, and which no eleven year old boy should have heard of, let alone be able to cast. The blood was now pouring out of the scar on Harry's face; in the darkness, it looked black. The man blocked another curse, before casting two spells in quick succession; the first, an easily blocked 'Reducto', the second a quiet Summoning charm, aimed at the rocks behind Harry. As the Blasting Curse exploded against Harry's shield, he was struck on the back of the head by a fair sized rock, sending him falling to the ground again.

The man was about to head over to quickly finish the boy off when he heard something bark. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Hagrid and Fang charging through the trees. Cursing loudly, he fired off Killing Curse at the large man, before deforming into smoke once more and flying away through the Forest.

A/N: Reviews, as always, are incredibly welcome.