Filch took them to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they were devastated to find Neville seated in front of her desk. His mouth fell open the moment he saw them, but Mary shook her head to stop anything he might say. Then she saw their teacher, seated imperiously behind her desk. Filch ushered the girls before her, and then left in a positively radiant air.
Mary steeled herself for the worst.
"I would never have believed this of any of you," said Professor McGonagall. "What could have been so important that you needed to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower at this hour?"
Both Mary and Hermione opened their mouths to speak, and both choked when they couldn't make a sound. They exchanged panicked glances, desperate for a way to communicate.
"Nothing to say?"
They both tried again, and tears spilled down Hermione's cheeks.
"You appear to be in greater trouble than we thought," the professor observed. "I will tell you how this looks, and you tell me if my read is unreasonable."
Mary bowed her head and Hermione sunk into a chair next to Neville.
"You fed Draco Malfoy a story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. Instead, he relayed the story to Mr Filch, which Mr Longbottom overheard. He tried to warn you before you could wander out to watch Mr Malfoy get in trouble. Instead, he is sharing in your punishment."
Mary looked over to Neville, who appeared to have suffered the worst betrayal of his life.
"I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. I will be deducting fifty points from Gryffindor."
"Fifty?" Mary gasped. The last time McGonagall had taken points from her own House was when she thought Hermione was trying to get herself killed, and that had been only ten.
"Fifty points each," she corrected.
"Professor, please–"
"You can't–"
"I beg your pardon!" she thundered. "Do not tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I will discuss your punishment with Professor Dumbledore."
Filch was waiting in the corridor, ready to lead Mary, Hermione, and Neville back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was waiting for them in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, hand bandaged. He cast a quizzical glance at Neville, who started sobbing as soon as the portrait door clicked shut behind them.
"Neville, what are you doing up?" To the girls, he asked, "What happened?"
Hermione wasn't talking, so Mary steeled herself and evenly said, "We got caught."
"What! How?"
"Malfoy. He tipped Filch off."
"How did he know about this? That bloody slime!"
"Yeah."
Without another word, Mary looped her arm through Hermione's and they moved towards the girls' dormitory as Ron steered Neville towards the boys'. None of them slept, that night. What were their classmates going to think when they found out what happened?
At first, Gryffindors passing the hourglass thought it was a mistake. How could they have lost one hundred and fifty points while everyone was asleep? Malfoy shared the story of their excursion with Slytherin over breakfast, and the tale spread like wildfire.
The famous Mary Potter, hero of two quidditch matches, along with her stupid first-year friends, lied about dragons, took a little nocturnal stroll, and got caught. Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were disgusted by her, as they'd been counting on Gryffindor to unseat Slytherin in the House Cup.
"They can pony up or bugger off," said Lee, over lunch. "Everyone will forget about this in a few weeks, anyway. Fred and George have lost us loads points, and we don't hate them."
"Have they ever lost one hundred and fifty points at once?" asked Ron.
"Well, no…"
Mary pushed her bowl of soup aside and pressed her forehead into the table.
She was no stranger to being despised. The Dursleys made sure that she knew, every day of her life, that she was an unwanted burden. Mary never made friends at school, because nobody wanted to be on Dudley's bad side. Then she came to Hogwarts, and people actually liked her. Many of them even admired her! And here, she'd let them all down.
By mid-afternoon, Ron was feeling their ire, too. Rumor of his infirmary visit got around, so he was guilty by association. He couldn't refute the accusation, and he didn't really care to. He did, however, want everyone to stop slinging green slime at him – a crass allusion to the Ridgeback venom.
"How's your hand feeling?" Mary asked him, between classes.
"It still burns, but we got to it before the venom could do any real damage. I just need to go back for fresh dressing every eight hours."
"Madam Pomfrey didn't ask any questions?"
Ron scoffed. "She did, but I couldn't answer. She lectured me about messing with things I have no training for, but she rarely reports students."
"Really?" This was news to Mary.
"She doesn't want us to risk our health if we're worried about getting in trouble with the professors. Besides, she could guess what was wrong with my hand."
"But she couldn't lift the hex?"
"Not without any clue of what caused it."
"Even though she could treat your hand without knowing where the venom came from?"
"How am I supposed to know how she does it?" Ron sputtered. "Go ask Snape about poisons and antidotes, if you're so curious!"
Hermione kept quiet in class, only looking up to make sure Neville's trembling hands didn't knock anything over. This could be especially perilous in Potions, as Snape would surely take any chance to add to their misery. The four tried to get to the dungeon early, hoping to have a table to themselves, but everyone was unusually punctual.
Whether to prevent Mary, Ron, Hermione, or Neville from sitting with them, or to give them a standing ovation –
"Thanks, Potter," said Malfoy. "We owe you one!"
– their classmates left the work station in the center of the room open for them.
At the end of the day, the despondent quartet found an empty corner of the Gryffindor common room for study. This was the first time in Mary's life that she was thankful for exams, because after shooting a glower their way, each student that settled in for the evening seemed to ignore them. Just in case, Lee and Ron's brothers set up nearby to prevent any vengeful mischief.
When the clock struck nine, Percy suggested they go to bed.
Fred threw an arm around Ron and Neville and said, "You look dead tired. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"
Neville winced and George added, "It's Friday. No classes, tomorrow. Everyone'll start cooling down, and we'll all feel better."
"I do expect all of you at breakfast – starving yourself won't help anything – so don't think about hiding in bed, all day," was Percy's parting comfort.
Mary and Hermione were the first to their room by inches, so they both slipped into Hermione's fourposter to avoid confrontation. Hedwig joined them and nestled between their pillows, preening their hair as they tried – and failed – to fall asleep.
Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve and whispered a baffling charm that lightly ruffled the curtains.
"What could we have done differently?" she asked.
"Maybe we should've just gone to Dumbledore, anyway," Mary suggested.
"Maybe. Maybe we could've found some way to tell him."
Mary sighed. "It probably wouldn't change our standing."
Hermione shook her head, then asked, "How do you think the boys are handling this?"
"Stoically," said Mary, with conviction. "Nary a tear or complaint between them."
Hermione laughed and wiped her face with her sleeve. "I've never been in trouble, before. I mean, not really. Not like this."
"I'm always in trouble with the Dursleys," said Mary. "I'd try to be normal, but I'd always do something to make them angry."
"I embarrass my parents, I know I do," Hermione confessed. "They're brilliant and kind, and I try, but…" She put hand over her eyes and heaved a sigh. "I didn't know until my last hospital appointment that you're not supposed to argue with the doctors."
Mary snorted. "What did you argue with them about?"
Hermione shook her head. "I can't even remember. I was only there for a checkup, this time, and something sounded wrong."
"Doctors can be wrong, and you're really smart. You've probably read more books than anyone I've ever met."
"Books and cleverness…there are more important things. My parents are doctors, so I could have asked them – they told me so, that time – instead of 'causing a scene'."
"They weren't embarrassed about you being a witch?"
"No, not at all! They thought they were going mad, with all the weird things that would happen around me, so I think they were relieved. Why? Were your family embarrassed?"
Where could Mary even begin?
"They hate magic. They never told me I was a witch, or about my parents, but they punished me whenever something weird would happen, unless they could pretend there was a non-magical explanation for it."
"Like what?" Hermione asked, despair making way for curiosity.
"Well," Mary wracked her mind for a simple example. "My cousin is the same age as us, but he's four times as big. Aunt Petunia would give me his clothes when they didn't fit him, anymore, even if I wasn't big enough for them, yet."
"That's awful!"
"It was embarrassing for a couple years, but it got a little better when I learned to sew."
One of Mary's primary school art classes had an extensive quilting project, which equipped Mary with the resources to alter her horrid wardrobe. With the proper cuts and stitches, she removed stains and pulled the fabric into a form that would fit her better. She'd rarely call the results nice, but she made herself more presentable. She also made a couple patchwork skirts with the trimmings, and even managed to turn a couple of the longer garments into dresses, as long as the article was salvageable.
"Other kids still laughed at me, because they were obviously Dudley's old clothes. But one time, Aunt Petunia tried to force this horrible sweater on me. It was brown with these orange puffballs, and she didn't want to get rid of it because of some relative who sent it for Dudley." Mary grimaced at the memory. "Anyway, I just stood there, but it shrank as she tried to pull it on me. She decided that it must've shrunk in the wash."
"What would've happened if she blamed you?"
Mary shrugged. "They'd probably lock me in my cupboard for a week."
"Your what?" Hermione asked, turning her head only slightly, so as not to disturb the now-dozing Hedwig.
"I…didn't have a bedroom until my first Hogwarts letter arrived. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs."
"And they locked you in there?"
Mary didn't know how to respond to that, so she told Hermione about her Hogwarts letter.
It had been addressed directly to her.
Ms Mary L. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
"They somehow knew where I was. My cousin ratted me out when I collected the mail that morning, and my uncle tore it from my hands. I think they took it as a threat, so they moved me into Dudley's second bedroom."
Hermione remained silent and shook her head.
The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms. The largest was for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and Mary had found it odd that Dudley never bullied them into exchanging it for his own. Maybe it had never crossed the boy's mind, since he had two bedrooms to himself: one for sleeping, and another for all the stuff he couldn't fit into his first room. The fourth bedroom was for guests and had a small, private bathroom attached. Mary assumed that her aunt and uncle's bedroom also had a private bathroom, since she'd hear water running from a source she'd never seen, and they always sat down to breakfast primly groomed. It all seemed extravagant to Mary, until she'd arrived at Hogwarts with all its amenities. She wondered what Dudley's school was like. Did he have his own bedroom with an attached washroom? Did he have a second room to keep all of his things in?
"He threw the biggest tantrum I'd ever seen. He screamed, hit Uncle Vernon with this walking stick he got with his school uniform, and kicked Aunt Petunia when she ignored him. He even puked, on purpose, but I don't know what he ruined."
That last part made Hermione chuckle, and Mary felt herself smiling.
"Another letter came for me, addressed to 'The Smallest Bedroom', but they took that one, too. I stayed in my room as other letters found their way in, and the house was covered in owls, even during the day."
Hermione had sat up, carefully displacing Hedwig, and hugged her knees to her chest, as though listening to a campfire tale.
"That went on for about a week, until Uncle Vernon decided we'd leave town to wait it out. We stayed at a hotel, but the letters followed me there, too, so they rented a cabin on this small island."
"Owls can fly," Hermione giggled. "And these can go further than most." She looked affectionately at Hedwig.
"They didn't send an owl, that time," Mary said, with a grin. "An enormous storm was in the forecast, so Uncle Vernon figured we wouldn't see a letter. It started raining before we got to the boat – I had no idea he knew how to drive a boat! He hates being outside! – and the rain was coming down in torrents by the time we got to the cabin."
"Was it dreadful?"
"Not entirely. There were only two rooms to the whole thing, so it was pretty awful if I needed the toilet. There was a separate little building for that, and I had to hold onto a guide rail to keep from getting blown away."
Hermione's hand flew to her face.
"And it was cold!" Mary quietly wailed. "Nobody knew how to build a fire, but at least the cabin was dry. Dudley had a little wireless TV he could watch his shows on, even though the reception was bad, so maybe he didn't notice. I just curled up in a corner and slept until his snoring woke me up.
"And then, at midnight, there was a knock on the door," said Mary, embracing the scary-story ambiance. "Dudley didn't even twitch, and I thought it was just loose debris blown by the wind, until the same pattern rapped against the door, again."
Hermione clutched at her chest in mock horror.
"The third time, the door flew off its hinges and crashed onto the floor! My uncle was there with rifle in hand, warning the intruder that he was armed. Dudley was barely awake, and Aunt Petunia screamed. A flash of lightning illuminated the silhouette of an enormous man with a thick, bushy beard and wild hair, wearing a long trench coat!"
Hermione grinned. "Hagrid?"
"Hagrid. He apologized; he'd only meant to knock a little harder, since we hadn't answered the first two times, but he wasn't used to 'Muggle construction'. He put the door right, and I think he used his umbrella to fix the hinges. Then he wished me a happy birthday, handed me a chocolate cake that he'd pulled out of one of his pockets, and started talking as though he'd always known us."
"He probably did," said Hermione.
"Probably. You'd think my family would appreciate him a little since he got a fire going. He even pulled a full tea set out of yet another pocket, and offered everyone a cup. My aunt and uncle weren't having any of it, but Dudley was trying to sneak some of the chocolate cake, so Hagrid tried to turn him into a pig."
"He didn't!" Hermione exclaimed.
"He did! But…you know…his pink umbrella. All he managed to do was sprout a tail."
"So Hagrid had your letter, this time?"
"Yes, and I finally got to read it. He explained all he could. About me, where I'd come from, what happened to my parents. The next morning, he sent an owl back to Hogwarts with my acceptance reply, and he took me to Diagon Alley to collect my school supplies. That's when he bought Hedwig for me."
At the sound of her name, Hedwig perked up. She stretched her wings, appraised her owlets, and slipped through the curtains to go hunting.
Mary continued, "August would have been dreadful if I didn't have her. Honestly, she's the first friend I ever had."
"I never had friends before Hogwarts, either," said Hermione. "I always thought it was because everyone was jealous of me. Now, I guess it's because I was a bully."
"It's still better here," Mary reasoned. "At least everyone has a reason to be angry at us?"
"But not Neville."
Mary felt a twinge at that. "I wish we could do something for him. He should really hate us for this."
"I doubt he even hates Malfoy."
"We need to find a way to make it up to him."
Hermione agreed. "If we can ever explain what happened."
Early the next morning, someone threw the curtains back and sunlight flooded the canopy. Hedwig had returned before sunrise, and she doubled in size, fluffing her feathers and stretching out her wings over Mary and Hermione. The girls shaded their eyes from the light and saw three angry Gryffindor Chasers standing over them. Mary sat up and tucked her knees to her chest.
"Safety in numbers?" Angelina asked.
"Something like that," Mary replied, as meek as she could sound.
Hedwig hissed, so all three Chasers knelt to present less of a threat. This appeased Hedwig enough to lower her wings.
"We didn't mean to upset your owl," said Alicia.
"We didn't mean to make such a mess of things," said Mary.
"Can you tell us what did happen?" Katie asked.
Mary tried again and no sound came out.
Angelina looked offended. "You can trust us, Mary. We're trying to help you!"
"I know!" Mary said, frantic. She couldn't even tell them she was hexed.
"Hermione?" Katie asked, looking behind Mary.
Mary nodded, then Hermione attempted to speak and failed.
"I could resign," said Mary. "From the team, I mean."
"Resign?" Alicia cried. "What good would that do?"
"How are we going to regain any points if we don't have a full team?" Katie asked.
"We are not happy with you," Angelina told Mary, "but we believe that there's more to this than the rumor mill's spreading. Stay out of trouble from now on, and we'll forgive you when we know what actually happened."
"Oliver's going to kill me," Mary predicted, rising from bed.
"Once or twice," Katie agreed, "but he argued to keep you on the team. He walked in on Snape trying to convince McGonagall to pull you, so…yeah, he's probably gonna rip your head off a few times."
Mary followed the Chasers to the pitch, and Oliver was thunderous throughout practice. Their Captain could hiss and curse to his heart's content, but when Fred and George stood behind Mary, even he had to check his behavior when their resident clowns turned serious. He settled for calling Mary "the Seeker" when he had to mention her, and refused to look at her, let alone speak with her.
"I'm hurting our morale," said Mary, after that first practice.
"We're in rough shape," said George.
"But we'll be fine," finished Fred.
"You don't know that," Mary countered.
"What's all this worth if it isn't?" Fred asked.
"Oliver cares," said George. "It'll take him a little longer to cool off, but he'll come round."
Mary stepped in front of them and looked them both in the eye. "Why aren't you angry at me? How can you forgive us so easily? We lost Gryffindor one-hundred and fifty points!"
"We know there's a reason," they replied together.
"We figure you'll tell us when you can," said Fred.
"Come on," said George. "If we don't get you up to the Great Hall, Percy will think you're trying to avoid supper."
Over the next few weeks, a new story evolved and began circulating the school. In their desire to be unheard and unseen, Mary, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were the last to learn about it.
Word had it that a pair of dragons had landed on the Astronomy Tower. Nobody knew who they were, but they were visiting Hogwarts to collect a rare dragon egg that Hagrid had been keeping safe. As the timeline of the story aligned with quartet's midnight escapade, they became the rumored couriers of the egg, somehow being the only ones who could deliver it to the dragon riders.
Fred and George were the ones to share this story with them, and they smiled as Mary and the others brightened throughout the telling.
"So," they asked. "How much of it is true?"
Neville knew nothing of the ordeal, and the other three still couldn't respond. Trying another angle, Ron said, "Talk to Charlie."
Life noticeably improved, and they had almost forgotten about their detention, when they were pulled from Charms early to meet in Professor Dumbledore's office.
"Seriously, Charms?" Ron grumbled. "He had three other classes to pull us from, and he chose Charms!"
"Three?" Neville asked. "What other class is as bad as Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Are you kidding?" Ron spluttered. "History of Magic is full of absolute–"
He suddenly bit his tongue and bellowed an unintelligible curse. "Why does that keep happening?"
Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were waiting with Dumbledore when they entered.
"Please, have a seat," said Dumbledore in his gentle way.
Mary fought the urge to keep her gaze on the desk between and met the old Wizard's eyes. He wasn't angry, and didn't even appear to accuse them of any wrongdoing. They had been roaming the school after hours, so they were in the wrong, but Mary didn't fear a lecture on that order.
"It seems you four found yourselves in the middle of something a little larger than your grade level." He raised a hand, palm up, and invited Ron to explain what his second eldest brother did for a living. He then invited Hagrid to read an update on little Norbert. To the students' great surprise, he spoke freely.
"Norbert is doing well and growing quickly. She's getting along as well as dragons can get along, as long as none of them touch her teddy bear."
"Norbert's a girl?" asked Hermione.
"And as strong as dragons come!" Hagrid proudly replied.
"How are we talking about this in front of Neville?" Mary asked.
"When Hagrid received this letter," said Professor McGonagall, "he brought it to me, along with the basket of egg shards. Professor Dumbledore and I pieced the situation together and deduced that he'd fallen under some sort of spell. He was ashamed of the trouble he caused the four of you, and asked for a pardon."
Indeed, Hagrid's eyes were red and puffy, but he didn't seem too upset, anymore.
"What you did was noble," she said, "and we now understand the decisions you made. I don't understand why you spoke about it where other students might overhear you, especially with some so keen on getting you into trouble." Professor McGonagall did give them a disappointed look on that score, and Mary blushed a deep scarlet.
"So, are we not getting detention, now?" Neville asked, hopefully.
"Goodness," said Professor McGonagall, "no, that has not changed. While we understand your motivation, we do not agree with your actions. You will be serving a couple of detentions. First with Hagrid on a patrol, and then running errands that Professor Quirrell assigns to you."
Ron groaned and his friends stared at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't have detention, Mr. Weasley," said Professor Dumbledore. "You were only called in so that I could remove the hex from you, along with your classmates."
He blinked and began to laugh. Mary and Hermione glowered at him, and Neville nervously scooted his chair away from the girls. Ron was dismissed from the office while the other three received their instructions. At eleven o'clock that night, Filch would escort them to Hagrid's hut, and they would join him for a patrol of the outer perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. Neville and Hermione stared in disbelief at Mary's excitement.
"We're first-years!" Hermione cried. "We can't defend ourselves! We'll be a liability!"
"And for that reason," said Dumbledore, "Misters Fred and George Weasley will be joining you. One of their experiments yielded unfortunate results, and it would be best if they served their punishment out-of-doors while the problem is resolved." He said no more on the matter, and they were dismissed.
"What did you guys do?" Mary asked the twins, that evening. "And if it was so bad, how did you avoid losing a ton of points?
They gave her impish grins, but revealed nothing.
At eleven o' clock, Mary, the twins, Hermione, and Neville left Ron in the common room, contemplating his chess board opposite Lee. Mary suspected that the third year would need to be exceptionally good at planning ahead in order to keep up with Fred and George, while keeping himself out of trouble.
Filch was overjoyed at the prospect of their dangerous sentence. As he told treacherous stories of what could happen to students in the forest, Fred exuded boredom while George listened intently, gasping at the appropriate times. When Filch realized they were playing him, both brothers broke into peals of laughter, and even Neville had to smile.
"You won't be laughing by sunrise, after you've gotten so lost you don't know which way is up!"
"Oh no!" said Fred in his most patronizing tone. "If only but one of us had ever set foot in the Forbidden Forest before tonight!"
"If only we had more than one year of education to keep us safe!" cried George.
"To be young and foolish," muttered Filch, continuing in silence.
Behind his back, Fred and George pantomimed decrepitude.
Ahead, they could see Hagrid's silhouette backlit by a large fire. Fang was shaking a leather toy and tossing it for himself to catch, and Mary suspected that this was a training session gone awry. The canine noticed the group before Hagrid did, and he bounded up to them. Mary braced for impact, but Fang only planted his front paws, tail wagging enthusiastically, pranced in circles, and ran back to Hagrid.
"At least he alerted you, this time!" Mary called, encouragingly.
"All right, you lot?" Hagrid greeted, gesturing to a line of gear. "I've prepared packs for you – snacks, water, deterrents in case you run into trouble."
"D-deterrents?" Neville stuttered.
"Flares, firecrackers, smoke bombs–"
"You liked our smoke bombs?" Fred asked, brightly.
Hagrid gave the Weasleys an unconvincing glare and told the others, "Your poor examples here developed a safer version of something the ministry issues for patrols like these. I want you to be safe, but we shouldn't harm the forest."
"Shouldn't be too friendly with them, Hagrid," said Filch. "They're here to be punished, after all."
"Thank you, Filch," said Hagrid, giving the custodian a meaningful look. "I'll do my job and not tell you how to do yours."
Filch sniffed. "I'll be back at dawn for what's left of them."
Hagrid rolled his eyes. "When it's easy to be kind or keep your mouth shut, I don't get that guy."
"I thought we'd be writing lines," said Neville, "or cleaning chalkboards."
"And how would that teach us to respect the rules we broke?" Hagrid asked. "This is a punishment for me, too. I didn't want you lot out here, but Dumbledore has a lot of faith in this delinquent duo." He clapped his hands together. "Right then, follow me over here and listen carefully."
He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earthen track that disappeared into the darkness. A light breeze rustled foliage, and they could see silvery strands glistening on a nearby bush. Below the bush, the lamplight reflected a silvery trail of liquid.
"Unicorn blood!" George gasped.
"Right," said Hagrid. "I found a dead unicorn, last week, and this one has just been injured. I don't know if it's still alive, but we need to try to find it."
Mary could see Neville's terror rising.
"Not to argue with the mission," she said, "but what if whatever did this to the unicorn finds us, first?"
"As far as I know," said Hagrid, "there is nothing in the forest that can hurt you as long as Fang and I are nearby, coward though he is." He gave the hound an affectionate pat. "We're going to split into three teams and follow the trails of blood. Looks to've been staggering for a while, so keep an eye on the posted markers. Neville, you'll be with me and Fang. Hermione with George, Mary with Fred. If you find the unicorn, send up green sparks. If you're in trouble, red sparks. George and Fred, show 'em how it's done."
They took a few minutes to practice, with Neville getting it before either Mary or Hermione. They laughed at his surprise, and Hagrid called them to break out. When she could no longer hear footsteps from the others, Mary quietly asked Fred, "How often do you and George come out here?"
"As often as we need to," he said, nonchalantly.
"Why would you need to?"
"Detention," he said with a wide gesture.
"You don't only come out here for detention," Mary accused.
"Correct."
"You're not going to explain anything, are you?"
"Nope."
Mary tried not to sulk.
They walked in silence, eyes focused on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight would peak through the canopy and illuminate a spot or smear of unicorn blood.
"Do you have any idea what could be doing this?" Mary asked. "Like werewolves?"
Fred shook his head. "Werewolves aren't fast enough, and I've never known one who could move quietly enough to catch a unicorn."
Mary opened her mouth to ask about his acquaintance with werewolves, and decided against it. They walked until they heard water running, and Fred nudged her in that direction.
"If it's alive, it might be dehydrated."
He led her through a thicket, and Mary was relieved to see a marker. She didn't think Fred would deliberately get them lost, but she didn't want to take too many chances.
They stood near the water, looking and listening. Mary jumped as Fred wordlessly cast the Lumos charm and swept the area. She wasn't sure that was the wisest decision, but she had to admit that he probably had a better idea of what they were looking for than she did. She raised her wand and he shook his head, signaling for her to close her eyes. A few moments later, he extinguished his light, tapped her shoulder, and they continued on the trail.
"What was that for?"
"Recovers your night vision a little more quickly."
As they walked, Mary had an irrational urge to grab the rope from her pack and tie her wrist to Fred's, like small muggle children on bungie bracelets with their parents in busy shopping centers. As she tucked that idea away, a branch snapped in the distance. Fred spun, picked Mary up, and leaped behind a tree. He quickly set her down, but kept a hand on her shoulder. Mary fought the urge to kick him and shout, "IF ANOTHER WEASLEY PICKS ME UP–"
What could she really do to someone with three times her education?
Fred motioned for her to stay put as he leaned out to see what caused the sound.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "It's you, Ronan."
"Ah, Fred, young friend of Hagrid," said a man's voice. "And friend of Hagrid's friend."
Fred motioned to Mary and she cautiously moved to stand by him. The overcast began to clear and moonlight spilled through the canopy. The man appeared to be human from the waist up, and Mary was startled to see that the rest of him was the chestnut body of a horse!
"This is Mary," said Fred. "We're on a bit of a mission. How's tonight treating you?"
Ronan turned his eyes skyward and said, "Mars is very bright, tonight."
"Um, it sure is," Fred agreed. "Have you seen anything anything unusual? We're looking for an injured unicorn, and we're hoping to avoid whatever hurt it."
Ronan sighed. "The innocent are always the first to fall victim to violence."
"Yes," said Fred. "We'd like to prevent more of that, if you could help us?"
Another figure, more powerfully built than Ronan, materialized from the shadows.
"Good evening, Bane," said Fred, with a bow of his head.
"Young human," said Bane, his voice like thunder.
Abandoning pride, Mary took a step behind Fred and kept a firm grip on her wand. Were they being surrounded?
"What brings you into the forest tonight?" Bane asked.
"We're looking for an injured unicorn, and maybe its attacker. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?"
The centaur looked up and said, "Mars is unusually bright, tonight."
"So we've heard," said Fred, dryly. "Well, we'll be off. Take care."
When Fred was sure they were out of earshot, he said, "Never try to get a straight answer out of a centaur."
"So that's where you learned how to answer questions!"
He glared at Mary and she smiled sweetly back at him.
They wandered for an hour without incident. Fred had a roll of twine, and he tied a knot for every trace of unicorn blood they found. He checked his watch and measured a length before tying it off. Mary thought the instances were getting closer together, each splash thicker than the last. She suddenly stopped and grabbed Fred's sleeve.
They saw a gleam of white reflected in the distance. As they inched closer, careful not to disturb the underbrush, moonlight emerged to reveal a unicorn stretched across the ground. Mary had never seen anything so beautiful, or so sad. The equine's legs were splayed out from under its body, with neck bent at an unnatural angle.
Mary raised her wand and Fred stopped her. He met her eyes and pulled his pack open. She did the same, every sense alert to what she might need to do next. They watched the clearing, and saw a cloaked figure crawl towards the unicorn like some slinking parasite.
Fred was shaking his head and Mary stood transfixed. The creature bent its head over the unicorn and began to drink its blood. Mary felt her own blood run cold, and bile rose in her throat. Fred got her attention, pointed to his hair, and then to his wand. He would throw red sparks, and she would throw green. He made a swishing motion with his off hand, and Mary put as much energy into the spell as she could muster.
The hooded figure spun around and stood up, unicorn blood dribbling down its front. It locked eyes with Mary and she fell to her knees. The worst pain she had ever felt pierced her forehead, as though her scar were a literal lightning bolt searing through her skull.
Fred threw something that sounded like a firecracker, and then there were hoofbeats. Through blurry eyes, Mary saw a centaur crash into the evil creature, and Fred threw one of his smoke bombs when the centaur turned away. The creature shrieked and fled, dodging vines that Fred charmed to bind its legs.
"Damn it!" Fred scowled, and knelt beside Mary. "Mary, what's wrong?"
"I don't know," she hissed. The pain wasn't going away.
"Firenze!" he called. The hoofbeats came closer. "Thank you."
Mary looked up to see a younger centaur, with white hair and palomino coloring. One of Uncle Vernon's cousins owned a herd of palomino ponies, and Mary recalled Dudley trying to ride one only because she wasn't allowed.
"Fred," said Firenze, "is this the Potter child?"
"Yes, she's hurt."
"Can you ride?" Firenze asked Mary.
"I've never–" she stopped as her own voice sent jolts of pain through her ears.
"Would you really help her?" Fred asked.
"What happened here is bigger than all of us," said Firenze. "Put her on my back and I'll take her to Hagrid."
She took a handful of Fred's sleeve when he released her, and he wrapped her arms around the centaur's torso. "I'll be fine," he assured her, and then to Firenze, "Be careful. I know the risk you're taking in helping us."
Firenze set off through the trees, and Mary locked her legs to his waist. The mounting pain in her head had Mary fearing she would pass out. Sweat streaked her forehead and she began shivering, which did not help her grip on Firenze.
They rendezvoused with Hagrid, who instructed the young centaur to lead Neville to the edge of the forest. He slowed to a trot, and she could hear Neville and Fang running to keep up. George and Hermione were already there when they arrived, and they helped Mary dismount.
"Thank you, Firenze," said George. "I hope Bane doesn't give you too much trouble."
Mary dropped to her knees, and Fang pressed his body to her. She gave his neck an appreciative scritch.
"Keep each other safe and all will be well," Firenze replied, and dashed back into the forest.
The others tried to ask Mary questions, but she shook her head. Even that hurt too much, and she pressed her hands to her temples. She listened to them discuss what they saw until Fred joined them and relayed Hagrid's instructions. They were to wait in his hut until he returned, and help themselves to whatever they needed. The Weasleys fixed a pot of tea, adding different herbs and powders to each cup. Mary's head began to clear after her first sip, and she could look up.
"Better?" George asked.
"Better," she whispered, taking another sip.
"What happened?" asked Hermione. "We saw your signal and Hagrid sent us to wait for you without telling us anything."
Mary looked at Fred.
"We saw the creature that killed the unicorn," he said. "It was at least humanoid."
"What did it want?" Neville asked, hands trembling.
"Unicorn blood," said both twins.
Hermione gasped.
"What?" asked Mary and Neville.
"Slaying a unicorn is a natural crime," said Hermione. "Drinking its blood can keep you alive, but you live a cursed life the moment it touches your lips."
George nodded. "You really need to have nothing to lose to make that decision. Such people are desperate and dangerous."
The clock on Hagrid's hearth chimed four times, and they talked another twenty minutes before Hagrid returned. They each shared their account of what happened in the forest, and the gamekeeper escorted them back to the castle. They were all in great need of a shower, but exhaustion overtook Mary. She was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
