StickyKeys1: Hello, and thank you for your review. I'm glad you're liking this and to hear about my writing style. Sometimes I worry that it becomes too descriptive and tedious, but the description is one of my favourite things with writing. I always wanted to read a Male OC paring with Hermione but couldn't find any to my satisfaction and so decided I was gonna have to write my own.

Alexander's feet felt like lead, weighing him down with each step that he took. The evening was cool and the breeze rattled the windows of the corridors they walked down, but his blood was icy and his muscles rigid. He had lost any sense of how long they'd been following Filch; his heart hammered loudly and his brain was short-circuiting with anxious thoughts. Were they going to be expelled? Was Filch taking them to the Headmaster's office? They can't be the only people in Hogwarts who walked the castle at night. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the Cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept their being out of bed and sneaking around the school in the dead of night, let alone being in the Astronomy Tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. We might as well be packing our bags already, thought Alexander bitterly.

Filch led them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited. Harry didn't look at any of them, his eyes behind the spectacles were staring intensely at one spot on the floor. Hermione sat next to Alexander, and he could feel her trembling. His heart ached as her bottom lip quivered and her soulful, brown eyes misted with tears. She must have been worried to death. Her biggest nightmare since coming to Hogwarts came true. Taking a deep breath, he gave her elbow a faint squeeze. Alexander wished Eliot were here to give Hermione a more comforting hug. Eliot would know what to do. Alexander was more like his Grandfather when it came to consoling others: awkward and clumsy. Any other time, he would have been delighted to be more like his Grandfather, but right now, it was a hindrance; he longed to make others feel better, he just didn't know how to. However, he must have done a satisfactory job because Hermione gave him a fragile, thin smile. Alexander felt his heart jump and he grinned back. Hermione wrapped her tiny hands around his right elbow, clinging for dear life.

Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Alexander's brain, each more pathetic than the last. They were sleepwalking and had just woken up. No, Professor McGonagall would never believe that. They wanted to stretch their legs by walking around the castle. Even as he thought about it, Alexander realised how weak his excuses sounded. Every other time, he would have thought of a fantastic explanation, but it was something about the night that caused his brain to work slower. He couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered.

The wait was the longest minutes of Alexander's life. His left leg repeatedly vibrated and he constantly ran a hand through his hair. Hermione sniffed every few seconds. Suddenly, her grip around his elbow tightened and she sharply inhaled. Alexander snapped his head around and immediately wished that he hadn't. If he thought the situation was worse before, then someone had truly merde partout. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville. His face was panicked and he was gesturing to Harry.

'Harry!' Neville burst out, the moment he saw them. 'I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag —'

Alexander shook his head vigorously to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the four of them. The piece of lead in his stomach became heavier as her severe gaze burned down on them, lips pursed.

'I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr Filch says you were up in the Astronomy Tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves.' It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, still as a graveyard, hand impossibly sealed around his elbow but he barely noticed.

'Professor, we – that is to say – I dragged them with me. It was my fault, you see.'

Harry's head snapped towards Alexander, mouth set to protest but Alexander didn't acknowledge him. If Professor McGonagall thought it was his idea, then the others would be let off easily. The stern Transfiguration teacher's nostrils flared angrily, lips pursed even tighter that he could see the white appear.

'You're in enough trouble already, Laurent, don't make it worse for yourself by lying,' she said in a deathly whisper, brows flickering in a glare.

Alexander was inclined to argue until he felt a small squeeze. Hermione's eyes bore pleadingly into his and she slowly shook her head. Alexander sighed.

'I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on,' said Professor McGonagall. 'It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him.'

Alexander felt himself grow paler the longer McGonagall reproached them. He almost broke eye contact and stared at the floor but forced himself to maintain the Professor's fierce glare. Grandfather had taught him to look someone in the eye, no matter what the person was saying or who it was. Not paying attention was bad manners and it seemed that his Grandfather's teaching resonated with him.

McGonagall continued, her next words caused him to flinch, 'I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?'

Alexander caught Neville's eye and tried to wordlessly tell him that this wasn't true. Neville looked stunned and hurt as if someone had forcefully thrown a bludger at the back of his head. Neville's wounded expression twisted the metaphorical knife in Alexander's chest. He knew what it must have cost his friend to try to find them in the dark, to warn them while Neville himself was scared of the dark.

'I'm disgusted,' chided Professor McGonagall. 'Five students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense.' Hermione didn't dare glance up and she started shaking again, though smaller this time as to not signal her shame to the Professor.

'As for you, Mr Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this,' she glowered, then turned to Alexander who swallowed. 'And you, Mr Laurent, I wouldn't have expected something this rash from you. Rest assured, I will be writing to your parents and guardians about this.'

Alexander's blue eyes widened in panic. He clenched his fists. 'P-Professor, you don't have t-to do that, please,' he reasoned.

The stern Professor's eyes flashed. 'I'd advise you to keep quiet, Laurent, and not make it worse for yourself.'

Nails dug into his palms, but Alexander kept quiet. It seemed every time he thought it couldn't get worse, it did. He felt horrible and it was nothing compared to what he'd feel when Grandfather would be disappointed in him.

'All four of you will receive detentions – yes, you too, Mr Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous – and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.'

'Fifty?' Harry gasped next to him, voice stunned.

'Fifty points each,' said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.

'Professor – please – you can't —'

'Don't presume to tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.'

Two hundred points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had for the House Cup. And now, his Grandfather would get a letter about it.

Alexander slept restlessly that night after they arrived in the common room. Hermione rushed ahead of them and disappeared to the girls' dormitories without a backward look. Harry and Alexander didn't speak at all as they scrambled into bed. Harry must not have slept through the night because Alexander could hear him shuffling when he woke up every few seconds. He dug his face deeper into his pillow as he heard Neville sobbing for what seemed like hours. He swore to make it up to his friend the next day. Neville didn't deserve to feel like this. All he had done was to warn them and now the poor, blundering boy was reaping the same consequences as the rest of them.

He knew all of them, like himself, were dreading the dawn, though for different reasons. He could have dealt with the anger from the rest of the school, but his Grandfather's disappointment was a thousand times worse. Though Grandfather Laurent was austere, he rarely lost his temper and when he did, it was a terrifying sight to behold. Even through a letter, Grandfather's dissatisfaction could make him tremble.

∞ ϟ 9¾

At breakfast, a heavy bag of dread, which he carried since waking up at dawn, settled in his abdomen. He had a horrible sleep judging by the eyebags and the glint of red in his azure eyes when he looked in the mirror.

Everyone else was still asleep and he was one of the first ones to enter the Great Hall apart from a few seventh-years who rose early to revise for their NEWT exams. The Gryffindor table was empty and the wooden bench felt cold to the touch. He kept glancing up to where the owls would fly in for the mail and hoped that they would come early today, but his wish was in vain. The air remained as empty as the gold plates and goblets.

One by one, the Hall slowly filled up with yawning students rubbing their eyes. Hermione shuffled in silently and sat across from him, her form slumped as to not draw attention to herself. Alexander tried to smile at her, but it turned out feeble on his part. Neville came soon after, avoiding eye contact; he didn't stay for long. Hermione stuffed a few spoonfuls of cereal in her mouth and then hastened out of the Hall, scurrying to avoid the frowns and angry mutters thrown her way.

Apollo flew in with a familiar screech, talons clutching a letter which he threw in front of Alexander on the table. It couldn't have been anything else. On the white parchment was written, in curled neat writing, his full name in vivid, black ink: Alexander Frederick Laurent. With quivering hands, Alexander opened the envelope and a cold, brisk voice burst forth as if Grandfather were speaking directly into his ears. Somehow, no one else in the Hall could hear it because they didn't even glimpse at him:

Alexander, I received a letter from Professor McGonagall late last night, and suffice to say, I am disappointed in you. This is a very shameful episode, one I would never have expected from you. Is this how you're supposed to behave, a boy your age? Wandering around the castle at night is not befitting to someone whose last name is Laurent and who takes their responsibilities seriously. Laurents do not act like a bunch of fools who partake in folly. Did you not listen to what I said to you in September? Or did it go in one ear and out through the other? You're not a child anymore, Alexander, and it's time you did not act like one. Ensure this does not happen again.

The envelope was torn to pieces by itself until all that was left was a few tatters of paper in his palms. Alexander could not breathe; it felt as if someone were choking him. His heart was racing and all he desired to do was curl up into a ball. Grandfather was furious, that much he could tell. He could almost imagine Grandfather's sharp, calculating eyes boring into his. Alexander wished that Professor McGonagall wrote to Eliot instead, but Eliot wasn't his legal guardian. It might have been the reason he felt as if someone was crushing his whole body with their mighty fist. He had always striven to make Grandfather proud. Now, the first direct letter he received from Grandfather signalled how disappointed he was with Alexander.

It was with a slight detachment that Alexander got through the rest of the day, dragging himself from each lesson to the next, wishing evening arrived quicker so he could scamper back under his bedcovers. He couldn't even bring himself to care about the lost points or the insults that people hurled at him through corridors, though they might have directed it at Harry instead, who walked next to him.

The other students' fury at the loss of points was evident and affected the others significantly. Harry received the worst end of the stick, simply because of his fame and popularity. The story started to spread through the school: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, the Gryffindors' hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other first-years. From being one of the most popular and revered people at the school, poor Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Everywhere Harry went people pointed and didn't bother to lower their voices as they abused him.

'Thanks a lot, Potter,' they'd snarl, eyes akin to daggers.

Alexander growled, gripping his wand steady, but Harry gave him a look, shaking his head desolately.

Nia, thankfully, didn't mock or jeer as they walked past but she did send him a dismayed look when Alexander saw her from across the Hall. His heart sank, her demeanour evoked what Eliot would look like if he were here right now. He'd never felt as worse as he did today.

Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped, whistling and cheering, 'Thanks, Potter, we owe you one!'

Only Ron stood by them. 'They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them.'

'They've never lost two hundred points in one go, though, have they?' mumbled Harry gloomily.

'Well — no,' Ron admitted. 'But I'm sure it'll pass over.'

Harry, as he told Alexander and Ron, felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team. Ron stared in horror at Harry, his mouth like a gaping fish.

'You can't resign,' the redhead blurted out loudly, 'we'll lose the lead.'

'I have to admit, Harry, that leaving the team would not help any of us right now,' muttered Alexander with a grimace, 'it might make it worse. I think the most any of us can do at this point is to keep our heads down and for you to win the final match.'

'Don't worry,' remarked Harry with a tone of resignation, 'Wood said the same thing.' He paused for a moment, thinking, then declared, 'we're not spying and investigating anymore.'

Alexander couldn't agree more. He was done getting into late-night adventures. The last thing he wanted was another letter from Grandfather or, worse, a visit from him.

Hermione and Neville were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time as Harry, but nobody would speak to them, either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence. Alexander missed her voice in lessons confidently answering any question put forward by the Professors; he yearned for the sparkling glint in the corner of her right eye when she got the question right. Because Hermione always got it right, and although he knew the answers that she jotted down on her parchment were correct, the passion and ardent interest in her voice were captivating.

Alexander did what he had vowed to do and apologised to Neville. No one talked to Neville other than to insult him and some older years outright ignored him, regarding him as another heedless first-year who lost so many points. Neville, of course, forgave him and was grateful to have someone talk to him. He stuck to Alexander's side and flinched often when people barged into him. It was hard to fight against the agitators when most of the school was against them.

Helen was the only person who treated them ordinarily, though it might have been due to Helen's regular vivacious and friendly attitude. The blonde-haired Slytherin still waved, beaming, at Alexander as they both passed through the corridors and every time, Alexander's stomach produced cartwheels that he saw her. He felt much pleasanter afterwards and Grandfather's letter became a mere subdued echo in his brain.

Alexander was glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying he did, kept his mind off the letter. The group usually kept to themselves, working late into the night, striving to remember the ingredients in complicated Potions, practising spells by heart, memorising the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions.

The only way that Alexander was able to deal with the jeering and resentment of the other students' involved the twins. Fred and George bounded up to Alexander in the Great Hall during lunch, wide, flashing grins stretched across their faces. With Grandfather's voice still fresh in his mind, Alexander peeped up morosely at them.

'Alright, Alexi-boy,' greeted Fred. Alexander uttered a greeting back, head lowered onto his plate. 'Bit down in the dumps, are we, our young protégé?'

'I think he is, Fred, pure misery coming out of him.'

'Can't think why, though, Georgie. I don't understand why a boy who has broken Hogwarts records would be down in the dumps, can you?'

Alexander blinked slowly, the twins' words processing in his mind. 'Y-you're not upset with me losing the points,' he questioned in a slow tone as if he couldn't quite comprehend it.

'Why would we, Alexi?' refuted Fred, shrugging carelessly, 'No one has lost that many points in one week which is why it's a record.'

'Exactly, this calls for a celebration,' George raised a goblet and Fred mimicked him, 'come on Alexi-boy, do it as well, raise your glass.'

Alexander gazed in wonder and, gripping his gold goblet, raised it in the air.

Fred began, 'Today we witness the celebration of a new record, the loss of so many points in one night. Give it up for the record breakers, please!'

Fred and George cheered then gulped down their drinks. Alexander's lips tugged up in a genuine smile, and he placed the goblet against his lips; the pumpkin juice was cool and refreshing. A warmness overtook his body and he felt happy for the first time. As he stared at the twins' roguish expressions, he knew that he was appreciative for their friendship and couldn't ask for better friends.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Alexander was in the library, writing down the ingredients for the Wiggenweld Potion. Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy when Harry approached them, his countenance ghastly. Harry told them what he'd overheard in an abandoned classroom: Quirrell had finally given in to Snape. Alexander's head swiftly snapped up, his heart ceasing for a second.

'Snape's done it, then!' groaned Ron. 'If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell —'

'Assuming Quirrell can even do one,' interjected Alexander.

'There's still Fluffy, though,' said Hermione, though her tone was sceptical and she bit her lip nervously.

'Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,' said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. 'I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog.'

'You know what, Snape's probably already got his hands on it,' Alexander shook his head.

'So what do we do, Harry?' Ron asked. The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione speedily answered before anyone else could.

'Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves, we'll be thrown out for sure.'

'I agree, Harry, we can't start this again.'

'But we've got no proof!' argued Harry with a frustrated sigh, 'Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor – who do you think they'll believe him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore will think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining.'

'In other words, no one will believe us,' bluntly came Alexander's voice. 'The odds are against us no matter what because we're a bunch of stupid first-years who can't follow basic rules and are now accusing a valued Hogwarts Professor of theft.' Alexander snorted scornfully.

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't. 'If we just do a bit of poking around —'

'No,' said Alexander flatly, face set in stone, 'we've done enough poking around. I don't know about you but I don't want to get into trouble again, so let this go. It's none of our fucking business. Leave it for the teachers.'

He pulled a Potions textbook toward him and started reading about the Herbicide Potion. He felt Hermione's gaze burning into the side of his face but Alexander ignored her questioning look and focused on the page's words. They were students, not Sherlock Holmes, and it was time they started acting like it.

∞ ϟ 9¾

The following morning, Apollo delivered a note to Alexander at the breakfast table. For one heart-stopping moment he thought it was Grandfather who had written again, but he realised that Neville, who sat opposite him, had an identical note. He breathed out a sigh of relief and read:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.

Meet Mr Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor M. McGonagall

After all the distress and shame of the previous day, Alexander had almost forgotten that they still had detentions to do in the furore. Alexander blinked. Surely if the punishment was for being up late at night, why was their detention during the late hour? He shook his head in disbelief. This school made no sense. He half-awaited Hermione to protest about the night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. She felt they deserved what they'd got. They probably did but not for being up late, it was solely for their irresponsibility in forgetting the Cloak and getting caught.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said goodbye to Ron in the common room, who gave them an encouraging remark, then shuffled down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there and so was Malfoy. He'd forgotten that Malfoy had received detention, too. A wave of resentment rose in Alexander when the ferret's face emerged as they came down the marble steps. This enfoiré caused so much stress for them because he couldn't keep his pale nose out of other people's business. The dark-haired boy took a steady breath and approached Filch's slimy sneer.

'Follow me,' said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. 'I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?' he leered at them. 'Oh yes, hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well-oiled in case they're ever needed.'

Alexander rolled his eyes and felt disgust bubble at the caretaker's words. He wished Filch would stop talking and prayed to whoever was out there that their detention wouldn't be with Filch.

'Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do.'

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Alexander wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something truly dreadful or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. His eyes narrowed ahead. Hang on, this is the way to Hagrid's hut. Was Hagrid in charge of their detention?

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut shone like a beacon. Then they heard a distant shout.

'Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.'

Alexander felt a twitch from the corner of his mouth. So it was with Hagrid. This wouldn't be too bad considering. The comfort on his face must have been visible, even in the darkness, because Filch barked, 'I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that lout? Well, think again, boy – it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.'

Alexander snapped his blue eyes toward the distance. This was the way to Hagrid's hut, yet it was also the way to the Forest. The pitch-black gloom of the deep trees that called out to them from the Forbidden Forest was eerie and sinister. A hoot echoed which could have been an owl or something else as well, it was hard to tell. He swallowed heavily. He had the courage and wasn't afraid to fight but how would he fare against unknown creatures. Was this even legal?

Next to him, Neville let out a tiny moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. Impossibly, the ferret's face became colourless and he almost resembled one of those vampires from the storybooks.

'The forest?' Malfoy repeated, his pitch higher than usual. Alexander pursed his lips to stop himself from smirking. 'We can't go in there at night – there's all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.'

'That's your problem, isn't it?' replied Filch, his voice cracking with glee.

Neville moved closer to clutch at the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise. Worry surged in him for his friend. This must have been Neville's worst nightmare and, not for the first time, Alexander internally cursed in French.

'Scared, Malfoy?' chimed Alexander.

'I'm not scared of anything, Laurent,' snapped Malfoy, thin, slit eyes directed into a glare.

'You should be scared boys. Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?'

Hagrid came striding toward them, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

'Abou' time,' he said. 'I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione, Alex?'

'I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid,' said Filch coldly, 'they're here to be punished, after all.'

'That's why yer late, is it?' said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. 'Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here.'

Filch glared but chose not to reply to Hagrid. To be fair, the crossbow and arrows were slightly daunting. 'I'll be back at dawn, for what's left of them,' he added nastily, then turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the twilight.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid. 'I'm not going in that forest,' declared Malfoy, with a note of panic in his voice.

'Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,' rebutted Hagrid fiercely. 'Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it.'

'But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something —'

Alexander hated to agree with Malfoy on anything, but he was right in this instance. The Forest was way out of bounds for a cluster of first-years and he'd take lines over this any day.

Malfoy snarled, 'If my father knew I was doing this, he'd —'

There it is, thought Alexander with the roll of his eyes. The mention of Daddy. Alexander had met young children of Earls who were less arrogant than the ferret.

Hagrid interrupted Malfoy's rant '— tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts. Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone?' Hagrid barked. 'Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!'

Malfoy didn't move. He scowled at Hagrid furiously, but then lowered his gaze.

'Right then,' announced Hagrid, 'now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment.'

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Alexander swore that the path that led inwards was like the inside of a black hole, all-consuming and dangerous. Holding the lamp up high, Hagrid pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. Alexander felt a mild breeze lift the fringe of his hair as he stared into the forest, squinting.

'Look there,' said Hagrid, 'see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat.'

A pool of silvery glitter lay in the centre of the path. The moonlight reflected on the blood, shimmering brilliantly, and Alexander felt a tiny twinge in his chest. What psychopath harms a unicorn?

'This is the second time in a week,' Hagrid grimaced, 'I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.'

'Twice can't be a coincidence,' muttered Alexander, chewing on his bottom lip.

'Yea', which is why we need ter find it.'

'And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?' shrilled Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

Hagrid's tone was firm. 'There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang. An' keep ter the path.' He then declared, 'Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least.'

Alexander blinked in alarm. Surely Hagrid wasn't thinking of letting them go off alone when there was a dangerous creature? He must have because the giant's expression was purely serious.

'I want Fang,' asserted Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. Fang was the most loveable and timid dog he had seen. Small puppies had more grit than he did.

Hagrid agreed because he cautioned, 'All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward.'

The ferret visibly swallowed and appeared as if he regretted his choice but chose to stay silent.

'So, me, Harry, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Alexander, Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other.'

Alexander bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from groaning. Trust his luck to be stuck with the ferret. Harry threw him a look of pity and he sighed in response.

'Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up red sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now – that's it – an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh, so, be careful – let's go.'

A little way in, the group reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Alexander, Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right. Hermione threw him an anxious glance before she left with Harry and Hagrid. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Alexander walked forth. The forest was black and still. Neville and Malfoy were close behind, with the chubby boy breathing deeply, while Fang stayed close to his heels.

It didn't take long for Malfoy to speak. After a few moments of nothing jumping out at them, the ferret supposed it was safe enough to talk. Neville jumped at Malfoy's stiff, languid voice.

'Can you believe that oaf has got us doing servant's work,' he bemoaned, his feet slamming against the dead leaves with no regard for the racket he was causing. 'Hogwarts is a joke.'

Alexander kept silent, his stare peeled on any sight of a unicorn. Now and then, a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Malfoy didn't like being ignored. 'I don't know why you're putting up with this, Laurent,' he glared at Alexander. 'You should be telling all this to your Grandfather. He'd quickly get that fool fired.'

'Malfoy, shut up, you whiny pale-faced rat,' Alexander snapped. 'I want to get this over with so I don't have to deal with you.'

'You had so much potential, Laurent,' continued Malfoy, as they walked farther into the forest. The trees became thicker and the moonlight thinned out. Alexander murmured Lumos and saw that the path had disappeared. Neville whimpered and walked closer to Alexander, gripping the back of his shirt. 'Instead, you're hanging out with Saint Potter, the Weasleys, and that Muggleborn.' Malfoy spat out the last word, face scrunched up in repugnance.

'I didn't realise that you took such an interest in my social life, Malfoy,' retorted Alexander. 'Jealous, are we?'

'Jealous?' Malfoy gave a sneer. 'Don't be a fool, Laurent. I would never be jealous of you. Who'd wanna be jealous of such a —'

'SHUSH!'

The snap of a branch in the distance caused Alexander to halt in his tracks. The rustle of the leaves grew louder and a dark shadow flashed near the corner of his eyes. Malfoy quickly fell silent and huddled closer to Fang who whimpered in fear. Neville had stopped breathing. Alexander raised his wand higher in the direction of the shadow and took a hesitant step forward.

'What are you doing?' hissed Malfoy in a hushed tone, a hand raised in mid-air. 'Don't be stupid, Laurent.'

Alexander ignored him and advanced closer, standing underneath a large tree, gawking left and right. There were no tracks in the mud; whatever or whoever had made the noise was long gone by now. He breathed a sigh of relief.

'It's okay. There's nothing here. Come on.'

Neville disliked it but he followed Alexander into the dense trees, accompanied by Malfoy who did not want to be left alone. Another lake of silver blood caught his eye and this time the pool was larger. The unicorn must have been close.

Neville's scream jolted him and he snapped around, ready to shoot off spells. But he needn't have bothered; while he was closely observing the puddle of unicorn blood, Malfoy, it seemed, sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. Malfoy's callous laughter echoed loudly into the clearing. At this time of night, deep in the Forbidden Forest, the ferret had decided it was fun to scare people. Alexander could have killed him. He was close to lunging at Malfoy and flinging a fist onto those smug features when Hagrid stormed up to them. Needless to say, the friendly giant was also peeved and fuming at Malfoy's trick.

Hagrid led them back to Harry and Hermione who nervously awaited their return behind a tree. Hermione's face slumped in relief as she spotted him approaching them.

Hagrid's gruff, irate tone proclaimed, 'We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups – Neville and Alexander, you two stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot.'

At least he would not have to deal with the ferret anymore. Alexander's face contorted into a sympathetic expression toward Harry. The two groups split up into different paths.

'Found anything, yet, Hagrid?' questioned Alexander, peering up at the giant's form.

'Nah, not yet. Got close, though.'

'Hagrid, who do you think harmed the Unicorn? It can't have been just anyone.'

'No, not jus' anyone. There's summat in here that shouldn' be.'

'How would you know that, Hagrid?' asked Hermione faintly. She stood rather close to the giant while Hagrid pointed a crossbow ahead, ready to shield them against anything that came their way.

' 'cause you'll be mad to try and kill a unicorn. No animal in these forests has ever attem'ted it befor'.'

Hermione fell silent. She was visibly fidgeting. Alexander nudged her and she gave a weak smile.

Suddenly, a deafening thudding of feet reverberated through the forest. It was gaining on them, close to where they were walking. Alexander's blood chilled. He drew his wand out in front of him until a squeal tore through the forest – a familiar shout he could unmistakably recognise.

'Wait, Hagrid, don't shoot!' he yelled.

He was right and, at that second, Malfoy's platinum blond hair shone in the moonlight, bouncing as he came sprinting toward them, mouth open in a shriek. Alexander felt horror run through him. Harry. Why was Harry not with Malfoy? Hermione must have thought the same because she gripped his arm, cutting off his circulation.

'Calm yerself,' said Hagrid to Malfoy. 'What happ'ned?'

'M-monster,' shuddered Malfoy who could hardly speak properly, 't-there's a monster.'

Alexander didn't wait for a detailed explanation. Malfoy's fear appeared genuine. Right now, there was something in these forests that could harm one of his best friends. He legged it, speeding toward the direction that Malfoy come, Hermione just behind him. He was never the fastest runner in primary school but the adrenaline was fuelling him. He briefly heard Hagrid curse then came boisterous, pounding boots after them.

'Harry!' he shouted. 'Harry, where are you?'

'Slo' down, yer two,' panted Hagrid.

Hermione's scared voice sounded. 'Alexander, look!' She was pointing ahead, where a creature that could only be described as a centaur, like the ones in the Greek Mythology books, was approaching them with a small lump on his back. The centaur had white-blond hair and a palomino body with eyes like pale sapphires. Hermione raced toward them down the path, overtaking Alexander, Hagrid puffing along behind them. 'Harry! Harry, are you alright?'

They stopped in front of the centaur, wheezing heavily. Hermione held onto his shoulder to steady herself.

'Harry. . .' breathed Alexander, concerned.

Harry had an unusual expression on his face, one Alexander couldn't pin down. 'I'm fine,' said Harry. Even his tone seemed distant and mystical like he didn't exactly know what he was saying. 'The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there.'

'This is where I leave you,' the centaur murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. 'You are safe now.' Harry slid off his back. 'Good luck, Harry Potter. The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.'

Alexander frowned in bewilderment. Harry, however, looked worried and his face was pallid. His hand kept drifting to his forehead where his famous scar was. The mysterious centaur turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving the others shivering.

'Harry,' began Alexander uneasily, 'what was that all about? What happened?'

Harry stared after where the centaur had disappeared for a few seconds then answered, 'Come on, I'll tell you when we get to the castle.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

When Alexander entered the dark common room with Harry, Hermione, and Neville, his stomach was a knot of tangled nerves. Ron was asleep on one of the armchairs. He must have been waiting for them to return. Neville was bleary-eyed from sleep. He bid goodnight to the rest of them and went up to the dormitories.

'That's a foul!' shouted Ron in his sleep, dreaming about Quidditch. Alexander didn't have the strength to even chuckle.

Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, Ron stirred, blinking confusedly at the three of them in front of him. He became wide-eyed as Harry began to relate what had happened in the forest. Harry was a ball of anxiety. He paced up and down in front of the fire, shaking. Alexander sunk onto one of the sofa chairs, both hands grasping the armrests.

'Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort and Voldemort's waiting in the forest, and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich. . .'

'It had to get worse, didn't it?' mumbled Alexander with a tired scowl.

Ron had other issues. 'Stop saying the name!' whispered Ron fearfully, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them. Harry ignored him.

'We're choosing to believe this, why?' quizzed Alexander. 'We're supposed to take the centaurs at their word?'

'Firenze saved me, Alexander, but he shouldn't have done so. Bane was furious, he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen. They must show that Voldemort's coming back. Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. . .I suppose that's written in the stars as well.'

'Will you stop saying the name!' screeched Ron.

'Oh, will you get a grip, Ronald,' snapped Alexander, 'we have bigger issues than some psychopath's name.'

Ron gaped at him as if he couldn't quite comprehend his sheer disregard. 'You're completely mad, you are.'

Harry had hardly listened to the two boys. 'So, all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone,' Harry spouted feverishly, 'then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off. . . well, I suppose Bane'll be happy.'

Hermione looked afraid. Her fidgeting had started again but she had a word of comfort. 'Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you.'

'Dumbledore's not invincible,' voiced Alexander. 'He's old.'

'He's the most powerful wizard ever,' countered Hermione in an astonished tone. 'Just because he's old doesn't mean he's not powerful. There was a reason You-Know-Who didn't dare attack Dumbledore.' Hermione jutted her nose in the air and continued to Harry, 'anyway, I agree with Alexander; who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic.'

'Which means there still is a likely chance for it to come true.'

Harry gazed solemnly at him through his spectacles. Ron appeared as if he'd already started writing his speech for Harry's funeral. Alexander prayed it wouldn't come to that. The sky had lightened. The four went to bed exhausted, and Alexander's throat was raw from the events of the night.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! We're almost coming to the end of this book, just a few chapters left. After this, it'll be the second year.