Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't own Draco Malfoy, or any part of the magical world that J.K. Rowling has all the copyrights to ... please don't sue me. There are some parts of this story that are quotes from the book - it can't be helped - events are the same as in the book, but Draco's opinion of these events may vary from Harry's.

Author's Notes: I needed to do some re-writing, after reading OotP. I have made some minor changes to this chapter, mostly spelling and grammar.

Chapter 8 - Dragon = Detention

I had gotten over the disappointment of Quirrell continuing to inhale and exhale, and was trying to think up another way to get him, to no avail. I would not give up. Slytherins never give up.

I had spent breakfast-time telling Pansy all about how I escaped the Muggle-helicopters, for the umpteenth time. Since Flint wouldn't let me on the team, I had started re-telling that story, just to get to him. As such, Pansy had scarpered before I finished my breakfast. Crabbe and Goyle had followed suit. So THAT'S how to get rid of them. I was on my way to Charms class, minding my own business (yes, I can do that, believe it or not), when I overheard a familiar voice.

Weasley. "Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

Dragon? Hatching? Where? When? I stopped dead, listening carefully, hoping to learn more. Hermione responded to Weasley's comment, with a scolding tone, "We've got lessons, we'll get in trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -"

"Shut up!" Potter whispered to them, looking at me. I raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to smirk. He dragged the other two away, leaving me alone with some new information to go over.

I think I now know why that great oaf was in the dangerous creatures section of the Library. Maybe he'll set his whole house on fire, instead of just his bed, now. I wonder if I can blackmail them with this. Probably.

I wasn't concentrating in Charms class, to the extent that I accidentally cast a silencing charm on Professor Flitwick, instead of casting a speaking charm on my textbook. That was funny, until someone removed it and he took twenty points from Slytherin for it.

I decided to investigate what I had heard earlier. It might be interesting.

"Pansy. Remember what I was saying at breakfast?" I asked, forcing myself to keep a straight face. She nodded, with a look that resembled fear, "Well, you see, I was flying over -"

She ran away at top speed. Too easy. I turned to Crabbe and Goyle, who backed up a few steps, before following Pansy. Far far too easy.

I abandoned any idea of food, as I slipped out the front doors, and down near the Forest, staying hidden from the tiny hut. I hate that Forest. It scares me. At least it's the middle of the day - I couldn't face it at night. They say there are werewolves in there. Werewolves really scare me. I shivered, as I crept round the edge of the Forest and up to the side of the hut. I can't believe anyone could live in such a small squalid place. It's revolting. I could hear muffled sounds, like voices from inside, but no matter how hard I strained my ears, I couldn't make out what they were saying. I moved round a little farther, and peered in through the window. It was dark inside - only a fire in the grate, and the light from the few small windows, to see by. But I could clearly see the small black creature on the table. A baby dragon and, from the shell-fragments scattered around, I would guess that it had just hatched. Then the Large-Hairy-One looked up and saw me.

I'm not stupid. I ran. I ran as fast as I could up to the school, not looking back. I don't know if they saw me - even if they did, they might not have recognised me. I didn't stop running, until I got to the common room.

"Draco. What happened to you?" Cat asked.

"I ran all the way up here, from the edge of the Forest." I answered truthfully.

"Why were you at the edge of the Forest?" Cat asked, suspicion evident in her tone.

"Ever heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'?" I asked harshly, "I am entitled to go where I want. I wasn't actually IN the Forest ... nor would I ever want to set foot there."

"Sor-ry." she said, in that way that means she so was not.

"Anything we might be interested in?" Theo asked. I knew he meant 'anything to do with Lord Ugly-Face', but he wasn't going to mention it in front of the rest of the house.

"Yes - you would be interested to know what I was doing there, but it's not life-threatening. None of your business and, to be honest, none of mine either, but I was there anyway." I said, shrugging.

"You were spying on someone?" Milli asked.

"Yes. I was spying on someone, and now will proceed to think of a way to blackmail them with it. I will not be telling any of you, so M.Y.O.F.B."

"Translate that last part into English, please." Theo said.

I spoke slowly, as if I was talking to a two-year-old, a mental patient, or Crabbe and Goyle, "The 'M' is for 'mind'. The 'Y' is for 'your'. The 'O' is for 'own'. The 'B' is for business. And the 'F' is for ... emphasis."

* * *

I watched those three, for a fortnight, and their behaviour confirmed that they were just as guilty as Hagrid. At the very least, they were withholding evidence, or aiding and abetting. Quirrell was getting a little run-down, and seemed even more jumpy, but he made no new moves in that time, so I focused on Potter and his gang. Theo and the girls were watching Quirrell closely enough, anyway. If anything came up, they'd tell me ... right?

What bothered me most was, where had Hagrid managed to get a dragon's egg? They're completely illegal - class A non-tradable. And even on the black-market (I've seen Fireball, and Vipertooth eggs on sale in Knockturn Alley) they do NOT come cheap. The chances of the Hogwarts gamekeeper ever getting enough Galleons to afford one were astronomical.

Still, there were no clues given as to where it came from, only that it was growing fast. And the only clue to that would be the true terror on Potter, Weasley and Granger's faces when they visited the gamekeeper's hut ... which they did more often than usual, now (yes, I watch him all the time, and know how often he used to go down there. Yes, I'm obsessed with Potter - I want to destroy him, and everything he holds dear - preferably involving some degree of painful torture, along the way).

I don't know why they keep going down there, with that thing - it's probably already half the size of the hut, by now. If they've got an ounce of sanity between them, they're trying to convince the fool to get rid of it. Probably not, then - these are Gryffindors we're talking about, after all.

And then, on Thursday lunchtime, I heard something that was just irresistible, "Ron Weasley was sent to the Hospital Wing, by Flitwick. He couldn't hold his wand, for the swelling - it looked to me like a bite, but what would leave a bite-mark like that? It looked venomous, if you ask me."

Thank heavens for Ravenclaw gossipmongers. I overheard that from the Ravenclaw Patil twin, talking to some of her friends, behind me. Those girls, and their Gryffindor and Hufflepuff friends, are the reason why it's so difficult to keep a secret in this castle. Slytherin girls don't gossip like that ... admittedly, they will sell information for a good price, but they don't just blab all over the place.

I couldn't not take this opportunity - it would be too nice of me if I just let him be. And with the intent of tormenting the boy (and possibly finding out more about the dragon, but that would just be a bonus to irritating Weasley), I left lunch early, promising Pansy that I was NOT sneaking off to see another girl, and telling the Brainless Boys that I would meet them next class.

"No, Mr Malfoy, you may not see him. He needs rest and medical care, and should not be disturbed." Madam Pomfrey said, as she blocked my way.

"Please, Ma'am. I need to borrow a book for my Potions homework. I won't take long." I said, putting on my talking-to-people-who-had-something-I-want voice. And I tried the puppy-dog-eyes effect, as well - that might have been overkill, but she fell for it, and that's what counts.

She sighed, in that world-weary way that Jewish mothers have, before saying, "Very well. Ten minutes. No more." and with that, she let me past. She didn't even follow me into the room. I'll have to remember to stay on her good side, so I can pull that trick more often.

I strolled into the room, with my best smug-smirk. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." I said, as I stopped next to Weasley. "Except I don't think it was a cat that bit you. Pomfrey said you told her it was a dog." I shook my head knowingly, "Not that either. How about I tell her what really bit you?"

"You dare, and I'll -"

"You'll what?" I asked, "You do anything to me, and I'll let everyone know what Hagrid's been up to. I don't think anyone would be too happy about it, if they knew."

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Weasley asked suspiciously.

"I need to borrow your Potions book. At least, that's what I said, so you won't mind when I walk out with it - will you? You'll get it back in the morning, anyway." I said calmly. "But tell me something. Where'd he get that egg from, anyway?"

"I don't know, and even if I did, I'd not tell you." Weasley snapped.

"Temper, temper." I said, enjoying the game ... the funny part is, he doesn't realise that messing with his head is only a game to me. "You don't want me to tell Pomfrey what bit you, do you?"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he growled, barely containing his infamous temper.

"I want to know where Hagrid's new pet came from. I want to know why you three haven't told on him, yet. I want to know how long you think you can keep that thing a secret, even if I don't tell. And most importantly, I want to laugh at you, for getting bitten by ... what's it called, anyway?"

"None of your business!" Ron snapped.

"That's an odd name. Seriously - that 'man' names his pets. What name did he give it?" I asked, deliberately making the word 'man' sound sarcastic. Weasley glared at me. I smirked, "Tell me what its name is, or I'll tell everyone about it."

Weasley glared at me some more, before rolling his eyes and submitting to the inevitable logic that even he couldn't deny, "Norbert." he said, now glaring at the wall a few feet to my right.

"Norbert? You're kidding, right? Wow, is he bad with names, or what?" I asked, deliberately trying to wind Weasley up. It was working - I was getting the death-glare, again. I feel like I'm not doing my job properly if I don't get that death-glare from him at least once a day. I responded to the death-glare with a smirk - that just made him madder. "I hope he's not planning on keeping it there. I didn't see what species it was, but even the smallest one won't fit in that cabin at two months old." I said, watching Weasley's reaction to that. He didn't let anything show on his face - I'm surprised - Gryffindors are usually an open book, from their facial expressions alone ... but not even his eyes gave anything away.

"Go away, Malfoy." he said, in a tone that was supposed to sound ominous, but failed miserably.

I wandered over to the table, and snatched the Potions book from his bag. I would have gone through his things in more detail, but Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to appear. "Out. Go on, let my patient get some rest."

"Whatever." I muttered, giving Weasley one more superior smirk, before leaving with the book.

* * *

On my own, I sat in the dorm room, pondering the dragon situation. "Why did I take this, anyway?" I asked myself, looking at the book. I knew the answer - I needed to make my visit look authentic. And that was a total waste of time - I didn't find out anything ... except the dragon's name. Norbert. Who would call a dragon Norbert? O.K., so Dogbert and Catbert are recognised experts on manipulation and domination, even by Wizards - their books are on the bookshelf in the Slytherin common room. Nor-bert. Maybe it was a Norwegian Ridgeback ... that, at least would make some sense. Still. Bored now.

Hello. There's a bookmark in it. I opened the book, to see what he'd marked - I hadn't expected Weasley to be interested enough in the subject to bookmark something. A potion to turn a rat yellow? What the hell? I know he had a rat for a familiar - probably found it in his basement, and couldn't afford anything better - but why on Earth would he want to turn it, or any other rat, yellow? I shook my head in bemusement. Little amuses the idiots.

Hold on - the 'bookmark' has writing on it. I picked it up, and unfolded it. It's not a bookmark at all - it's a letter. Ron Weasley's personal letter from ... I looked at the bottom, to see the name ... Charlie. Was that one of his brothers? It better be, if it's signed 'love, Charlie' ... otherwise, I really do not want to know.

To read, or not to read ... that is the question. Even I have some limits. But blackmail material on Ron Weasley is definitely a good reason to read it. And one of my father's favourite sayings is: 'To succeed in life, it is often necessary to rise above your principles' ... I read the letter.

'Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take

the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting

him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over

with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me

next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying

an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at

midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and

take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie.'

They were sending the dragon away. I was going to lose this blackmail over them. Damn. I hadn't expected this - I had honestly thought they would be stupid enough to keep it. Hagrid certainly would, so that means they must have talked him into letting it go. I really ought to tell someone - get them caught. The highest tower is out of bounds at the best of times, but if they've got an illegal dragon with them, that'd just seal the deal.

Expulsion is too good for him, but I didn't want to let this go without doing something.

* * *

Weasley was still in the Hospital Wing, and missed Potions class, so he didn't get his book back. He can just damned well wait till the next Potions class, then, can't he?

"It's too bad Weasley's not going to be better in time for Saturday night, isn't it?" I said to Crabbe and Goyle, near the end of the lesson.

"Why?" Goyle asked stupidly.

"Because he'll not get caught. The other two will, though." I whispered conspiratorially, pointing at Potter and Hermione. "They're going up the Astronomy Tower - no not for that - they're planning to meet some friends of one of Weasley's brothers. They're smuggling an illegal dragon out of the country, and I'm going to catch them."

"A dragon?" Crabbe asked a little too loudly.

"Keep your voice down, you prat!" I hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard. I glared at the only person who seemed to be looking our way - Longbottom, "What are you looking at, Toad Boy?" he jumped, and returned his full attention to his work. "Not like he matters, anyway." I muttered, "But you two are my alibi - if Potter gets caught, and says he saw me there as well, you will say I never left the dorm - understood?"

Two dumb nods were all the answer I received.

* * *

On Saturday night, I left the safety of the common room, and made my way to the entrance to the tower. I got there at about five minutes to midnight. No sign of them. I would just wait, and when they showed up, I'd hit them with the leg-locker curse (which I have been practicing on Longbottom - got him three times, so far) and leave them for Filch to find. All I had to do was avoid Filch, myself.

Filch didn't catch me. Oh no. It was McGonagall - what she was doing up and about at this hour, I have no idea, but she was anything but pleased. Then again, she does have a vendetta against Slytherins in general, and a grudge against me specifically. I got landed with a detention, and twenty points lost for Slytherin.

Snape was none too pleased, either, but since I was trying to get Potter in trouble, he let me off with the punishment McGonagall had already given.

I was consoled for my loss of house points, however, when I walked past the hourglasses that told the house-point totals.

"Bloody Hell!" I said in amazement.

"Which Gryffindor murdered someone?" Theo asked, stunned.

"How much did they lose, exactly?" Michael asked, behind me.

"Looks like about ... one hundred and fifty, to me." Blaise said. We were all now wearing stupid grins, but that didn't matter, because there was not a hope in hell of Gryffindor making a comeback from THAT.

"And I think I know who did it, too." I said.

"Who?" Pansy asked. The entire group of Slytherins were looking at me, now.

"Potter. He was out in the middle of the night." I said, grinning.

"Potter? The famous Harry Potter has screwed up. This is great!" some seventh year cheered.

And, speak of the devil. Potter chose that moment to appear. He was greeted by cheering, and praise, from most of the Slytherins. I stood back, out of the way, and tried not to laugh. He was not a happy bunny. Then again, I'd be upset if I'd lost that many house points, and was being mobbed and praised by my enemies. But I'm not the one that it's happened to, so I was enjoying myself. Suffer, Potter, suffer.

* * *

Theo approached me, two weeks before we had exams, in the middle of the packed Library (exam-time, the Library actually gets used, more often). "Got news for you," he said, sitting down opposite.

Blaise and Cat appeared, at the table, too. They sat next to us, looking attentive, "O.K., Theo. What's up?" Cat asked.

"Quirrell. I saw him head off to the Forest, last night. I was out for another Quirrell-induced detention, scrubbing the floor of the Entrance Hall, and he bolted past me, muttering to himself. Something about he was sorry, and he didn't mean to offend ... whoever he was talking to. And he was really really pale - I mean, that flu-curse didn't do anything to him - it's like he's anaemic, or something."

"You really ought to stop pulling those pranks in his class." Cat said sternly, "One of these days, he might catch on and give you worse than a detention."

Theo gulped, not sure what that might imply, but knowing it couldn't be good, "Anyway. He went out there, last night, and when I saw him in the Great Hall for breakfast, he had all the colour back again. Have any of you three got ANY ideas what's up with that?"

"No idea." Blaise said, with a distant voice that said she was still stunned by what she'd just been told.

Cat shook her head, and I frowned. The Forbidden Forest is not a good place to go if you want to improve your health. There are many dangerous creatures in there - werewolves, for one (have I mentioned, werewolves scare the hell out of me?). I couldn't imagine anything there that might improve human health. Now, a vampire, maybe ... but Quirrell and the Turban-Tenant aren't vampiric ... are they? That's not a good thought. "I can't think of anything, unless he's a vampire." I said, trying to make it sound like a joke ... I wasn't too sure, myself.

"That would not be a pretty picture." Cat said, "As if he's a pretty picture, as it is." she added.

* * *

My detention finally rolled around, one week before the exams. And Potter, Granger and Longbottom were there, too. I had been told to meet Filch in the Entrance Hall, at eleven o'clock at night, and I made a point of not being late. Potter and company were four minutes and forty-five seconds late - Filch commented on this.

Filch prattled on about the good old days when misbehavers were hung up by their ankles in the dungeons, as he led us outside, and down towards the gamekeeper's hut. Hagrid yelled for Filch to hurry up, and Potter seems to take that as a good sign ... I guess, since he is friends with the 'man' and has helped him break the law, there is a chance he'll go easy on Potter.

Filch also noticed Potter's reaction, however, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?" he asked, with a yellow-toothed sneer - revolting Squib, "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."

No way.

I stopped in my tracks, staring in horror at the insolent Squib, "The Forest? We can't go in there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard." I really do not like werewolves.

"That's your lookout, isn't it?" Filch said, grinning sadistically, "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

'I didn't exactly expect to be sent into the Forest for detention, you git!' I wanted to yell at him, 'Theo's had dozens of detentions, and he's never even been outdoors for them! This is bloody dangerous! I am NOT going in there! I am NOT going to let myself be turned into a werewolf-snack, just for your perverse amusement!' but I didn't. I'd just get in more trouble for it, if I did.

The gamekeeper approached us, glaring at Filch, with his slobbering mutt following closely. "Abou' time, I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch said evilly. Yeah, don't it's not fair - I disapprove of favouritism (unless I'm the one being favoured, of course), "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it? Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here." Hagrid growled. I'm pretty sure he didn't like Filch. Neither did I, but I didn't like Hagrid, either.

"I'll be back at dawn, for what's left of them," Filch sneered, showing his revolting yellow teeth again, before stalking back to the castle, the warmth, the light, and the safety, with no werewolves in there, and no other monsters, and ... I'm depressing myself - I'll stop that, now.

I turned away from the inviting sight of the castle, and glared at the gamekeeper, "I'm not going in that Forest." I snapped, silently praying my fear wasn't noticeable in my voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts. Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it." he replied harshly.

I tried to protest ... any excuse ... any reason I could possibly come up with of not to go into that Forest ... I said the first thing that I could think of, "But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd -"

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

My eyes narrowed, and I glared. I tried to stare him out, but he had a point. I definitely did not want to get expelled. That would not be good. Father would kill me, or worse, disown me, if I got expelled. I gave in, and turned my glare on the ground.

"Right then. 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." the gamekeeper said, as he led us up to the edge of the Forest, where there was a track leading into its depths.

I felt a slight breeze hit me, and shivered. I was really terrified, now. I was having trouble deciding which was more frightening - the idea of going into that Forest, or the thought of what would happen if I told Quirrell I was the one spying on him. It was pretty much a dead heat - no, I didn't want to think the word 'dead' - they were pretty much equally scary.

Hagrid pointed to the ground, saying, "Look there. See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. 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."

Unicorns!?! Something's KILLING UNICORNS!?! "And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" I asked, terrified, and not caring if anyone noticed.

Hagrid gave me the look that says, 'you are really beginning to get on my nerves', as he said, "There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang. An' keep ter the path. 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."

If it'll hurt unicorns, it'll not stop at an oversized hairball and his pet gamekeeper. "I want Fang," I said immediately. Fang is a name for a fierce guard-dog type. That dog is big and has sharp teeth. I want something with sharp teeth on my side, if I have to go in there.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward." I stared in horror - bloody Hell - that's not fair. I decided his ability to name animals was severely impaired. He split us into groups (I got stuck with Longbottom) and told us to shoot green sparks in the air if we found the unicorn, and red if we got in trouble. Right. Can I go home, now?

* * *

Inside the Forest was pitch black. The moon was three-quarters and pretty bright, but it didn't get through the trees. Neither did the stars. Longbottom had the lantern, and I had lit the tip of my wand. Lumos is about the third Charm they teach, after sparks and levitation, and Longbottom still couldn't manage it properly.

Still, there wasn't enough light. Shadows reached out to us from all sides, trying to suck us into the darkness. Shadows that concealed ... gods know what, and I don't want to.

After a while, the canopy of leaves thinned, and the occasional ray of moonlight shone through. That didn't help, because all it did was reflect off the shiny silver blood on the ground, and remind me that there is something here that KILLS UNICORNS. Unicorns are the purest innocence - beautiful, powerful, and practically divine - to kill one is the highest crime, worse by far than murdering a human. If it would kill a unicorn, it wouldn't hesitate to eliminate anyone who happened to cross it.

I decided to take my eyes off the blood, and looked at the sky. Stars were twinkling now, and I could see them through the trees. The stars helped calm my nerves. Astronomy is one of my favourite subjects, and it always seems to calm me down to just look up into the night sky. Even if I am in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, looking for a murderer of the worst kind, with only Longbottom and a cowardly mutt for company. I noticed that something in the sky shone a little brighter than usual, but I couldn't identify it without my charts. Just then, I heard a snapping of twigs, and rustling right next to me. I jumped in fright, and (I will never live this down, but I do have to admit it, don't I?) I grabbed Longbottom - he was the nearest familiar, non-hostile presence, since Fang was ahead of us. Longbottom panicked, even more than I had, and shot red sparks into the air, before he realised who had grabbed him.

"What did you do that for?" he all-but-yelled.

I didn't have time to come up with a convincing lie before there was a loud crashing sound in the undergrowth, and the huge figure of the gamekeeper appeared. "Wha's goin' on 'ere?" he asked.

"Malfoy snuck up behind me, and grabbed me." Longbottom answered, trembling.

Hagrid rolled his eyes, before glaring at me, "Righ'" he said angrily, then grabbed both of us, and retraced his path through the undergrowth - the mutt followed. He finally let us go when we reached another path. Potter and Hermione were both there, looking fearful. Good - at least I'm not the only one (Longbottom doesn't count - he's scared of his shadow). Hagrid explained to the other two what Longbottom had told him had happened, finishing with, "We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups - Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot." Idiot! Who's he to call me an idiot? He whispered something I couldn't hear, to Potter, before leading Hermione and Longbottom away, along the path.

Now I was stuck with Scaredy-Dog and The-Boy-Who-Wears-Stupid-Glasses. At least I had one less coward with me, now - Potter was a true Gryffindor, unlike Squib-Wannabie - he'd stand up to Snape in a bad mood if he had a good reason to. I, on the other hand, admit to being terrified, and would be glad to get out of here.

I didn't want to know how long we'd been in this bloody cursed Forest (literally, on both counts), but it felt like hours. The path started to get narrower, and overgrown ... and as it got harder to follow the path, it got easier to follow the blood - there was a lot more of it.

I had a bad feeling about this. More blood means we're getting closer to the source of said blood. Getting closer to the victim means we're getting closer to the killing ground. The only reason I wasn't openly panicking was because I adamantly refused to let Potter see weakness in me.

We reached a clearing, and I was just about to step out, away from the claustrophobia-inspiring path, when Potter stopped me. "Look -" he whispered, too frightened to speak any louder, and when I did look I saw why. At the far side of the clearing, lying on the ground and surrounded by a pool of silver, was the unicorn we had been looking for. Dead. I had to blink to stop tears from forming in my eyes, at the sight of it - such a beautiful creature - nothing so pure should ever have to suffer such a violent death. Potter stepped forward into the clearing, but stopped staring at something ... I turned in time to see a dark figure emerge from the undergrowth. I froze with fear, and stared in abject horror as the figure, unidentifiable under a hooded cloak, moved silently to the unicorn, bent over it and put its mouth to the still bleeding wound on the animal's side.

I couldn't believe it, for a moment. No one in their right mind - no one with a trace of humanity - would ever drink the blood of a unicorn. I blinked and when it was still there when I looked again ... I screamed. To Hell with not showing weakness to Potter - I didn't care anymore - I was out of there.

I ran back down the path, as fast as I could. I could hear Slobber-Dog following me - at least I hoped it was the dog - I wasn't looking back.

I got out of the Forest in one piece - which surprised me, but I was NOT complaining about it - and waited for the others, by Hagrid's hut. As we walked back up to the castle (with Filch prattling again), I chose to ignore the pale, petrified, and brain-not-in-while-deciding-what-just-happened look on Potter's face, because I was trying to figure that out for myself ... but I did note it for future reference.

* * *

End of chapter 8