Disclaimer: Hogwarts and its people still belong to JK Rowling, bless her cotton socks for letting us play with them.

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Chapter 3: Trapped

As there were still people badly wounded from Voldemort's attack, the Hospital Wing was off-limits for casual visitors. Poppy Pomfrey guarded her patients' privacy better than Fluffy the three-headed dog could have done.

So although Harry had a nagging impulse at the back of his mind to find out how Malfoy was doing, there was simply no information. After patching up one or the other of the two boys so many times over the last six years, the medi-witch was well aware that they were Not Friends. Even if Harry had wanted to visit it was unlikely he would have been allowed in – especially not to see Draco Malfoy.

But the second day after Harry had followed the other boy into the Forest, something happened that drove all thoughts of him out of his head.

He was out with Hagrid and Fang, patrolling the edges of the Forbidden Forest, when they found the unicorns. Hagrid had been worrying about how they were faring, what with Voldemort having had recent access to the Forest and always looking for unicorn blood to help him with his bid for immortality; so Harry, who was looking for any excuse to get out of the castle, had asked to go with him for extra credit in his Care of Magical Creatures class. Fortunately the unicorns had chosen to graze close to Hogwarts and it was the third or fourth glade Hagrid and Harry checked which proved lucky.

It was a small herd, the adults gleaming white with their foals varying between the gold of the new-born and the platinum of the weanlings, but this morning the herd had one glaringly obvious difference: there was a black horse.

"Well now, that's summat new…" Hagrid muttered under his breath. He had warned Harry to keep quiet around the unicorns, which were fairly shy creatures and disliked loud noises. The magical battle several days ago must have been traumatic for them and Hagrid needed to make sure none were injured.

"That's the horse that found me and Malfoy," Harry whispered.

The horse had its head up, jaws still chewing with a few stalks sticking out one corner of its mouth, and was watching the two people and the dog suspiciously. It snorted loudly, not seeming keen on the idea of Hagrid, but when the unicorns ignored the half-giant and continued their grazing the horse settled again, tearing up grass with its strong teeth in between keeping an eye on Harry and Hagrid as they wandered through the herd.

Harry had a piece of parchment and a quill ready to take notes from Hagrid. Hagrid seemed to know the unicorns individually, occasionally ruffling one's mane or patting another on the shoulder. Harry kept a mental note of the easy way Hagrid moved through the herd. Fang, after wandering too close to the horse and being threatened with a kick, had been told to stay back. The dog was sitting under a tree. His worried brown eyes flickered between his master and the horse, and a thin thread of drool hung from the boar hound's floppy lip.

Harry knew better than to approach the horse, but when its grazing took it in his direction he didn't step away, either.

Hagrid's lessons had taught him the importance of eye contact in taming wild animals and how most animals – magical or no – considered eye contact a challenge or a threat. So Harry didn't look directly at the horse as it gradually came closer and closer. He pretended to watch the unicorns: the mares with their foals towards the centre; the stallions vigilant on the outskirts; and the younger unicorns – not foals anymore but not adults either – exploring the shadows around the edges of the dell. But out of the corner of his eye Harry managed to get a good look at the long legs with slightly knobbly knees stopping them from getting too elegant, the shine on the black, satiny coat, and the tangles in the long mane and tail. The horse was a lot bigger than he remembered, too. In the night distances and heights and other dimensions became hard to ascertain. In the daylight it was easy to say to himself: this is a big horse… how did Malfoy manage not to break his neck falling off it? Oh, that's right. Malfoy fell on me. Its shoulder, he saw when the horse turned side on to see what Fang was up to, was level with his eyes. And Harry had grown a lot taller in the last year.

It seemed interested in the scroll and quill. When it decided Harry wasn't too much of a threat, it came close enough to stretch out its long neck and lip at the end of the feather. Harry grinned – that twitching upper lip was pretty mobile. And the lip curled back when the horse decided it didn't like the smell of the ink, showing long, yellowed teeth.

Then the horse snorted and jumped sideways, startling Harry.

Hagrid had finished examining the unicorns.

"They're all in good shape," he told Harry with relief. "And all o' 'em alive, too. Well, this herd, anyway. I'll be needin' ter check on the others later, o'course." He coughed. "Yer friend here is the only one hurt. He can' be stayin' out here in the Forest – we'll 'ave ter take 'im back ter Hogwarts wi' us."

"He's hurt? Where?" Harry tried to look at the horse, which slanted its ears back and sidled further away, its blackberry-dark eyes gleaming with suspicion.

"Other side," said Hagrid, appearing to look at Harry's notes. Not that Harry had made any – Harry realised that Hagrid was merely trying to make the horse more comfortable.

Trying to appear nonchalant – doing everything except whistling, in fact – Harry eased around in front of the horse to where he could see what Hagrid was talking about.

Merlin's beard. By the clawmarks something had tried to gut it. The black hide was scored down the right flank; three deep, weeping wounds trickled pale straw-coloured fluid. The edges were puffy and crusted where the blood and plasma had dried, while the lines of raw flesh were beginning to ooze pus and the few flies that came near unicorns were homing in on them. The long tail swished up at the flies and when the hairs caught in the open wetness the horse shivered and stamped a back foot, wanting to kick at an enemy but not knowing where the enemy was. Harry swallowed, hoping his stomach would stay put. "What did that?" he whispered.

Hagrid, who was fluffing up the mane of one of the unicorn foals that had come to investigate his pockets, scratched his beard with his free hand. "Vrikolaki, I'd say, by the spread o' them clawmarks. Yer won't have studied 'em yet, Harry; they're powerful Dark creatures, not native ter the Forest. Right nasty lot, they are, and devils once they get on a blood trail. If one o' them's marked this poor old feller then I don't rightly give 'im much hope fer survivin' all that long."

Harry swallowed again. "How do we bring him back?"

"Ah. Well now, Harry, I'm hoping he'll follow us. If'n he don't then we'll have ter bring the unicorns."

In the end they had to bring the unicorns. And it was a snorting, mistrustful black horse with its ears flickering back and forth and its tail switching angrily that followed the unicorns to the side of the castle, where Hagrid had the stable and several pens for various creatures. Luckily most of the specimens for Care of Magical Creatures were gone now, but by the way the horse flared its nostrils the smell of them lingered. Between the barn and the meadow where Harry had met his first Hippogriffs was a tall-sided wooden pen ("We'll be using it later for Girrumphs," Hagrid said). From the outside could be seen the basic structure, with thick vertical posts and the thinner lateral rails. The lining was of solid oak planks fastened magically to the rails to provide a smooth surface no animal could damage itself on, and it rose to the top rail some eight or nine feet high. The unicorns and the horse flowed into the pen as Harry held the gate open. Then Hagrid said, "On yer mark, Harry."

"Okay. Ready."

Hagrid whistled shrilly.

The unicorns didn't seem to like this, and shook their heads as if their ears were irritated. Hagrid whistled again.

Shooting the half-giant dirty looks, the unicorns shot out of the pen. The horse tried to follow, but Harry, who'd already realised what Hagrid was up to, slammed the gate shut and dropped the wooden bar across to hold it.

Just in time.

The whole gate shuddered as angry hooves crashed against it. On the other side the horse squealed in fury.

Harry rubbed his arm, which had been against the wood and was now tingling from the shockwaves. He clambered up the rails to check that the horse hadn't damaged itself.

It didn't seem to have, but it was running around the circular pen, whinnying to the unicorns. Harry looked over his shoulder. Out in the meadow some of the unicorns had paused. One whickered back to the horse. Hagrid whistled the high-pitched whistle again, and the unicorn turned, kicked its back feet into the air, and rejoined its fellows. Harry watched as the herd flowed back into the forest, soundless as mist.

Somehow the horse had sensed them leave. It was trotting around the enclosure now, stride long and elastic, head low as it scented the ground for previous occupants. The bare earth held no hoofprints other than those of the horse; unicorns were light and tended not to advertise themselves, and whatever had been in here before was long gone. Small puffs of dust rose as the horse wheeled and turned. Its ears were laced back against its skull. The last time Harry had seen it this upset was right before it attacked Remus.

So they'd got it back to Hogwarts. Big deal. How the hell were they going to treat it?

Hagrid, who had to stand on the bottom rail to peer over the top of the wall, might have read his mind. "Yer not ter go in there, Harry," he said quietly. "I know less'n a thimble-full o' what I ought about Muggle animals… but I know thissun ain't going to be pleased wi' us right about now, and it's not what I'd call safe." That was saying a lot – Hagrid's idea of 'safe' was a giant three-headed dog or an acromantula, both of which had tried to kill Harry.

The gate rocked again as the horse spun and kicked it.

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"…And now Hagrid's trying to find someone who knows something about horses," Harry finished. He was in the Great Hall for dinner with Hermione and Ron. He and Hagrid had left the horse with a bale of hay and the largest bucket of water Harry could safely levitate over the wall. Dumbledore had just announced that the pen behind the barn was off limits to all students unless directly supervised by Hagrid. "He's hoping some of the Muggle-born will know something… well, anything, really." He looked hopefully at Hermione, who shrugged.

"Sorry," she said. "I grew up in the city. And my parents would never have let me near a horse – one of the girls I went to school with had her front teeth knocked out by one. But I can see if the library has anything on them."

"That's a start, I guess," Harry said slowly. "I mean, thanks, 'Mione," he added hastily when she frowned.

She nodded, mollified. "But you haven't heard the latest around here, have you?"

"What – I've only been out for an afternoon. What is it? Have they found out what that barrier thing is all about?"

"Huh, I wish. No. Not the barrier. It's –"

She was interrupted by a gloating Ron, who stabbed his fork into a sausage and waved it around in the air. "It's only the coolest thing ever!" he exulted. "Malfoy came out of hospital today!"

Harry grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Ron… I didn't know you felt that way about –"

Ron glared. "Prat. No. Malfoy's blind. As in: he can't see a thing. Madam Pomfrey has to assign him people to stop him walking into walls… she even – get this – she even asked Professor Lupin if she could borrow his dog Snuffles as a guide dog!" He burst out laughing.

"Ron, that's not very nice," said Hermione, but her mouth was twitching.

Harry had to bite his lip. "Oh no… What if Remus agrees? Poor Snuffles!"

Ron sniggered. "Maybe I should offer…" His face took on a rapturous look. "I could accidentally let him walk off the top of Astronomy Tower. I could…" He broke off.

Harry turned to look at what had caught Ron's attention.

"Speak of the devil," breathed Hermione.

Draco Malfoy walked into the Hall with his usual arrogant stride, but this was the first time he'd come in arm-in-arm with one of the younger Slytherin students. The younger student led him to his usual seat between Crabbe and Goyle, but Harry, watching narrow-eyed, noticed how Malfoy's two bodyguards exchanged uneasy looks over Draco's head. Pansy Parkinson was more blatant in her disapproval. She leant forward and hissed something meant only for Draco.

Malfoy's cheeks flamed. In one motion that made Harry wonder just how blind he really was, Draco stood and sneered down at Pansy, who looked back up at him mulishly. Harry couldn't have heard what was said, but by the way Pansy's cheeks reddened to match Draco's, it couldn't have been nice.

Then Draco stepped back over the long seat, turned and made for the side door leading out to the stairs. It wasn't until he put his hand up to check if the door was open (and it was) that Harry realised he really was blind.

He watched Draco touch the doorframe on the way through and then the other boy was gone. The younger student who should have helped him was sitting miserably at the table, staring down at his plate as the other students around him whispered questions. Occasionally he would shrug.

Harry watched and turned a chicken leg over between his fingers as he thought. Gradually he became aware that Ron was talking.

"…and that'll stop him from going out and breaking the wards in the middle of the night…"

"What?" said Harry, suddenly dropped back into reality.

"Well, I thought you knew? You were the one who dragged him back, Harry, old boy. Got to say, it was a huge lapse in judgement. Should've left him out there for Aragog. Malfoy was out there to let his Death Eater daddy and uncles in."

"No he wasn't," Harry said, frowning, but not at Ron. "Is that what everyone's saying?"

"Well, yes," said Dean, who was sitting across the table and had been talking to Parvati. She was listening in now, too.

"Well they're wrong," muttered Harry, throwing down the chicken leg uneaten. He'd lost his appetite. "Merlin, this place is a rumour mill. I've got a headache."

He stood up and left to find Hagrid, ignoring the cries of, "Harry! Hey, so tell us what really happened… Harry?"

He really was getting a headache.

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