Chapter Twenty: What Lurks in the Dark?

Filch had been going on and on about the old punishments since we'd left the dungeons a good ten minutes ago. I'd stop listening when he'd gotten to the part about thumbs. I didn't want to know what else he felt nostalgic about tonight. Not when I had the whole bloody Forbidden Forest ahead of me to worry about. Because that's where we were going, for real. Into the forest, you know, the one that's forbidden? With Hagrid.

Hagrid, who stood at the base of the hill with Fang, sniffling as he waited for us, a sad look hanging on his face. He'd been like this for a week now, ever since I'd taken Norbert and sent him off with Charlie, which as far as the three Gryffindors beside me knew, I'd done alone.

We'd done our share of visiting him and trying to cheer him up.

"We beat Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw this week, did you see?" Harry had thought the mention of Hagrid's favourite house team—theirs—doing well at Quidditch would do the job.

"Mum says Charlie's great with dragons and the lot, Hagrid. We'll be fine!" Ron figured offering to send an owl to his brother to get news would help.

"He'll be with his own kind, Hagrid. It's better for him." Hermione, ever the one for logic, tried the simple truth. None of it worked. He still stood before us, on the night of our detention the following Thursday, looking as upset as ever.

"Get a grip on yourself, man," Filch sighed as we came before the groundskeeper. "Can't be going into the forest without your wits tonight."

"The Forest?" a voice quivered to my left, and I nearly jumped. I'd forgotten Draco was here, too. Which was surprising, because judging from the eye-rolling going on in Ron's direction, it wasn't the first time since we'd left the castle the blonde boy had seen it fit to complain. "I thought that was a joke," he spluttered. "We can't go in there. Students aren't allowed! And there are…" his voice dropped a pitch, and he looked around a moment, "werewolves."

Far to my right, Ron and Harry erupted into a fit of laughter, making Draco's face twist into a nasty glare. Hermione and I sighed, trying to wave them into silence. But in the end, it was Filch who shut them up. "There's more than werewolves in those trees, lad. You can be sure of that."

With one final crooked grin at all of us, Filch turned away and slowly made his way back towards the castle, leaving us with Hagrid. Clearing his throat, he straightened, and pulled two smaller lanterns from his gigantic coat. He lit them, and then held them out towards the five of us. Hermione and I were the first to step forth, taking them in hand, and following him as he started into the forest.

"What exactly are we doing, Hagrid?" I asked, trying to keep up. Rather difficult, when the lot of us barely reached his chest.

"You'll see in a moment." I couldn't exactly imagine what detention would be like in the Forbidden Forest until we reached it. Well, it wasn't exactly an it. It could've belonged to a she or a he, once upon a time, but it didn't any longer, so there wasn't much dwelling on it, was there?

A simple pool of silver lay amongst the leaves at the base of a tree-trunk, a bright contrast against the dark underbrush of the forest, glimmering in the moonlight. "H-Hagrid," Hermione stammered. "Is that…well, does it…"

"It's what we're here for," he stated, kneeling down, jabbing one large finger into the puddle. Shiny tendrils of it trickled to the ground as he rubbed it between his fingers. "Unicorn blood. I foun' one dead a few weeks back. Now, this one's been hurt bad by somethin'. So, it's our job to go and find the poor beast. Ron, Hermione—" She latched onto my arm, and I nearly dropped the lantern. From the look on Hagrid's face, I didn't exactly think that's how he was planning on working this out. But before I could say anything, I heard Draco huff to my right.

"Fine. If I'm stuck with Potter, I get Fang!" he exclaimed, and a chuckle rumbled from Hagrid's chest, and I felt it in my toes, ever so slightly.

Hagrid shrugged. "Right. Jus' so you knows, he's a bloody coward." As Draco moved closer to the dog, Fang whined softly, his tail falling slightly between his legs.

Harry exchanged a look with Ron. "He's not the only one, I see."

"Speaking of yourself there, Potter?" Draco snapped, but it held none of its usual bite.

"I'm not the one shaking in my boots, Malfoy."

"Stuff it. I just shivered. It's cold."

"Right, snakes don't like the cold, do they?"

I could almost see the daggers fly in the air between their glares, so I stepped forward, gripping the lantern in my hand tightly. "I'll go with them."

"W-What?" Hermione reached out for my arm again, but I was already too far ahead.

"I don't fancy them killing each other, do you?" I hissed at her, making Ron snort.

"Well, dependant on who wins—" Hermione smacked his arm, and that was the end of it.

With one last nod at the two of them, left standing beside Hagrid, I was off with Harry and Draco, one on each side, Fang drifting slightly ahead of us, emitting a soft whine every few meters. And it was surprising I caught them, really, with the incessant babbling to my right.

"Wait 'till my father hears about this!" Malfoy snorted, narrowly avoiding a root that could've tripped him. Pity. Might've shut him up. "This is servant stuff."

"If I didn't know better," I chuckled; the lantern wobbling as I nearly lost my footing. "I'd say Ron and Harry were right; you're scared."

"Well you know better. Because I'm not."

"Oh, I'm sure," I said, sounding not the least bit convinced. His eyes narrowed, and Harry stifled a laugh.

"And you're better, are you?" he snapped. "You can barely keep your grip on that lantern with all your shaking." I tightened my grip, glaring, my chin sticking up just a little higher than before. He didn't miss it, and a smug grin spread onto his features. I huffed.

"I'm quite sure you're the only baby around, Draco. You practically wet yourself when Filch said there were worse things than werewolves in this forest."

"Did you hear that?" He stopped, all of a sudden, and I thought for sure it was to spook me, to take a crack at me for having laughed at him. Only, his eyes were wide as he turned towards the sound he'd heard, and I spotted real fear in them. I followed his gaze, because either he was a really good actor, or…

My free hand flew to his arm the second I spotted it, and I bit my bottom lip to shut in the scream building in my throat. I saw him glance at me, from the corner of my eye, and he opened his mouth to say something, but my foot stomped over his, and that was that.

We'd found the unicorn. And as much as it was our job to examine it, make sure it was alright, I was quite sure it wasn't, therefore needed to examining. That, and I wanted to do the exact opposite. I wanted to shout. To hide. To run. Definitely run. Running sounded like a wonderful idea, actually. Save for the fact that my legs were stuck together, as if someone had cast a Super Sticking Charm between my shoes and the ground.

Because the unicorn was dead, definitely dead, and above it crouched a figure, hooded and barely distinguishable in the dark. Unless you were standing beside a creature so white and so pure you looked anything but. I didn't want to think about whomever—whatever—and what it was doing, but it wasn't hard to imagine.

The lantern fell from my grasp, hitting the ground and shattering.

The whole world ended.

Well, not really. Pretty close, though.

Because the…the thing heard it—how couldn't it?—and turned, very very slowly towards us. And all I could see beneath the hood were its lips, and its tongue, licking at the silver blood dribbling down its chin. I felt my stomach flip, ready to be sick.

Draco opened his mouth to yell, to shout, to say something, but I couldn't let him, and clamped my free hand—you know, the one that had been carrying the lantern until I'd been stupid enough to drop it?—over his mouth, too afraid of noise. Not that it mattered, the thing was already drawing itself to full height—too tall! too tall!—and a hissing had begun to fill the air.

And that's all I saw of it.

Because Draco had grabbed hold of one of my hands, turned his back on the gruesome scene, and ran. And my legs, magically and suddenly oh-so-compliant, gave chase, blindly following him. The dark forest became a bit of a blur around us as he pulled me along, and thankfully, not being able to see anything without the lantern brought me to my senses. My heels dug into the ground, stopping us both on our tracks, nearly pulling him back into me. He whirled around, eyes wild.

"What?"

"Harry!"

"Potter?"

Merlin, I wanted to hit him.

"We've just left him with that thing! We have to go get him!"

"Are you mad? Did you see it, Elena?"

"It's going to kill him, Draco! We have to go—"

"If Potter doesn't have the sense to save his own hide, then maybe—"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare say that! You're a coward, Draco Malfoy. You ran!" And yes, I'd been thinking of doing the same thing, but psh, he didn't need to know that.

"You were just as scared as I was back there!"

"And you don't think Harry wasn't? You saw it, Draco! You saw what it did to that unicorn! You know what it's going to do to Harry if it gets its hands—claws—fangs—whatever it'll use to tear him limb from limb!"

"Tearin' him limb from limb? Fang hasn't found a squirrel 'as he? He hates the ruddy buggers."

And I wasn't sure what alarmed me more. The sudden sound of Hagrid's voice, very amused, or the fact that he'd mentioned Fang, who had been with us, and oh Merlin, if something happened to the poor beast because I'd been too stupid to—

"Funny. He looks fine," said Ron, leaning down to pat Fang—where the hell had he come from?—behind the ears. Only the dog whined loudly and made his way behind Ron, cowering, who looked up, frowning. "Where's Harry?"

I swear to all that is magical I didn't mean to cry. I didn't. It's just, the way Ron was looking at me—and Hermione and Hagrid, too—and the way Draco stood there beside me, kicking at the ground, fidgeting, his hand still closed around mine…I snapped.

I tugged my hand from his grasp, balled it into a fist, and socked him as hard as I could manage in the shoulder. Once, twice, three times. And suddenly I was standing there, punching him in the arm, tears streaming down my face, babbling like a madwoman.

"You…made…Harry…behind…that…thing…murder…awful…"

Thankfully (for him, anyway, I still wanted to have a go), Hermione thought to pull me away. She couldn't quite manage it, given that I was just a smidge taller, and stronger, and so Ron had to do it for her. "What happened? What's wrong? 'Lena?"

That's all it took. Hermione's simple, worried use of my childhood nickname, and I was bawling in her arms. I'd forgotten all about beating the snot out of Draco, who I was pointing at weakly with one hand. "We found the…the unicorn. It was d-dead. Some…thing was feeding on it and…and he pulled me away…and…Harry…Harry was just standing there….Harry—"

I saw Ron lunge, saw the anger on his face as he headed for Draco. Guess he'd put two and two together. Only, he didn't make it there. Just like I never made it to the end of my story. Because there was a clattering of hooves too loud to be normal that broke the air. And a shadow too large to belong to whatever had been feeding on the unicorn that passed overhead. A tremor that shook the earth beneath my feet too big to belong to any of us—even Hagrid.

And when I looked up, I found myself staring at a half-naked man on a horse.

Okay, no. Let's reword that. Sorry.

A half-naked man that was…part of a horse. Yes. That's better. Sort of.

"Ohmygosh," Hermione gasped beside me, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "A centaur!" There you go. That's even better. Straight from the mouth of my personal encyclopedia. Five points to Gryffindor, bookworm best mate. Well, imaginary points, anyway.

But the centaur—as magnificent as he was—isn't what caught my attention. The boy sitting on his back, who unceremoniously thudded to the ground seconds after he pulled to a stop before us. And while everyone was quiet, speechless and staring, I bolted forward, not caring how much of a dolt I looked like careening towards Harry, throwing my arms around him in a flurry of tears.

"You're-alright-I-thought-the-worst-I-thought-you-were-dead-that-thing-was-so-scary-and-I'm-so-sorry-we-left-you-I-never-would've—"

"Elena. Elena, it's okay," Harry soothed, his hands patting at my back. "I'm alright. I'm fine."

"Harry Potter," a deep rumbling and rather unfamiliar voice sounded then, and I looked up, eyes wide, staring at the centaur. "This is where I leave you. You are safe. Good luck."

"Thank you," said Harry, and as he turned to leave, the centaur acknowledge another—Hagrid—bowing his head. The giant nodded back, and the centaur was gone, pounding through the forest. It was in the ensuing silence I thought it intelligent enough to detach myself from Harry, and sock Draco in the arm again.

"Ow! Bloody hell, Elena!"

"You deserve it," I sniffled, before looking at Hagrid. "Does this mean we can go? Or did you need to…to see it, too?" I shuddered. "The unicorn?"

"I know where she is, now," he shook his large head, his beard rustling side to side. "I'll come back in the morning' an' get her. I think you lot have had enough for one night, no?"

And so, we made our way out of the forest, guided only by two lanterns now (which I apologized profusely to Hagrid for as we walked, but he honestly didn't give a whit about a ruddy lantern, if we were safe), not moving an inch away from Harry's side. I'd left him once back there, and I wasn't about to do it again.

Ever.

Et voila, your featured Monday update. The infamous forbidden forest scene with Elena's added flair. Next up is the toil and trouble of Hogwarts finals in CH21: First Time on the Pitch, and no, it's nothing like it sounds. Lemme know what you thought, hmm?