Summary of the last chapter:

Hagrid's dragon hatches and soon starts making trouble. Hermione learns from the twins that their brother works in a dragon reserve in Romania, and the three kids write him a letter, asking if they accept new dragons. When his reply is positive, they inform a (now very stressed) Hagrid, who agrees to contact Charlie and arrange for transport.

Unfortunately, Marvolo refuses to stay in Hagrid's hut while the dragon's still there, and Harry sees no other option but to take him into the castle. He hides beneath Harry's clothes most of the time (for warmth), but is spotted during Transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall is very upset and orders him to get rid of the poisonous viper posthaste. She also deducts points and gives him a detention. Harry asks Professor Snape if he would be willing to keep Marvolo until a not specified personal issue of Hagrid's is resolved, and the professor agrees.

Detention

"You're supposed to go into the Forbidden Forest?" asked Hermione, disbelief colouring her voice when Filch came to collect Harry from the entrance hall to escort him to Hagrid. His friends had accompanied him this far in a show of moral support. "But that's dangerous! It's surely forbidden for a reason …"

Having Hermione express doubts about something a professor had decided clearly showed how dire she considered the situation. Tom couldn't agree more. "Bloody insane, that's what it is!" he ranted. "Punishing you for keeping a supposedly dangerous animal within the castle by sending you into a forest that's bursting with them! Do wizards seriously consider 'eye-for-an-eye' a valid educational method? What's wrong with these teachers?"

"I've heard there are werewolves and trolls and centaurs in there …" Neville's eyes were as big as saucers when he heard Filch's ugly snickering.

"That's gonna teach you, boy!" the caretaker said, his eyes lighting up with glee at the kids' obvious fright. Definitely sadistic, this man.

"Well, at least you're going to be with Hagrid," said Hermione weakly, knowing that it was small comfort. Hagrid had not proven to be a reasonable adult, and his perception of what constituted danger was not the same as that of most people.

Harry put on a brave face. "I'm sure it's gonna be alright," he said, if only to bereave Filch of his Schadenfreude. "At least I get to see the forest, I've always been curious about it." Straightening his shoulders and pretending a nonchalance he didn't really feel, he said to Filch: "Ready whenever you are, Sir" and cheerfully waved Neville and Hermione good-bye.

Hagrid winked at him when Filch left Harry in the half-giant's care with more predictions of doom, death and disaster.

"Don't yeh mind 'im, Harry," he said, after Filch had left. "Werewolves aren't dangerous unless it's a full moon, trolls don't come 'ere and the centaurs are decen' folk. There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh 's long as yer with me or Fang."

Hagrid explained to him that they were going to try and find an injured unicorn that had left a trail of blood in the forest. It was obviously a reason for concern, as there was nothing in the forest that should be willing or able to hurt a unicorn either. Unfortunately, Hagrid didn't know which direction it had moved to or come from.

They decided on one direction and followed the thin trail of silvery blood through the forest. It was a rather boring experience that made Harry wonder why the forest was forbidden at all. It seemed a rather ordinary piece of woodland so far.

Only once did Hagrid shove him behind a tree and take out his bow in alarm, but it was just a centaur who crossed their path, and as Hagrid had said earlier, he was friendly.

Friendly, but weird. He kept talking in riddles, repeatedly saying something about 'Mars being bright tonight' – all in all, nothing that helped them in their mission.

They kept following the path further after this encounter, until Hagrid finally suggested they turn around. The trail of blood was getting thinner and thinner. It seemed like the unicorn had come from here, but travelled into the opposite direction. They would have to pick up their search again at its starting point.

By the time they had reached it, Harry's legs were getting tired. He failed to see how helpful he was to his friend – there was really nothing to gain from his being here with Hagrid, if anything, he slowed him down with his considerably shorter legs. But maybe Hagrid had volunteered to oversee his detention as a favour. He did feel a little guilty that his dragon had caused the situation in the first place.

At least Norbert was soon to be dealt with. Hagrid had successfully contacted Charlie Weasley, who was currently arranging for transport. It wasn't easy, as transporting the dragon by Portkey was out of the question, given they had no official permit. Most likely, he would need to be transported by broom the entire way to Romania. Harry had no idea how that was going to work.

"Wasn't happy with me, Charlie," admitted Hagrid, when Harry asked how things were progressing. "Found the guy who gave me the egg highly suspicious 'cause he kept on his hood the entire evenin' I was drinkin' with him. Said he might've been a dragon dealer. But he cared fer 'is eggs, that's fer sure. Was reluctant at firs' ter give it ter me, until I told 'im I know my creatures! Even tamed a three headed dog. That convinced 'im!"

Harry frowned. "You told a hooded stranger you met in a pub about Fluffy? You didn't, by any chance, happen to mention his like for music?"

Hagrid stopped dead in his tracks, looking horrified.

"You did, didn't you?" Harry asked resignedly. Really, why should he be surprised?

"I shouldn'ta told 'im that!" Hagrid blurted. "Why did I tell him that? He kept buyin' me drinks and I don't remember too well … I really shouldn'ta told 'im that!"

Harry wondered if the guy in the pub could possibly have been Professor Quirrell. But surely, Hagrid would have recognized him if that had been the case? After all, he had a very distinctive stutter.

"Did he stutter?"

"What?"

"The dragon dealer whose face you couldn't see – did he stutter?"

"Na." Hagrid shook his head. "Na, he did't."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It couldn't have been Professor Quirrell. Most likely, it was just as Hagrid said – a dragon dealer with a gambling habit, who probably was long gone from here.

"Well, it's too late to do anything about it now. If it wouldn't get you in trouble, I'd suggest you tell the headmaster."

"Can't do that, Harry," said Hagrid gloomily. "Had ter leave Hogwarts in me youth fer keeping an illegal pet. Was almost sent ter Azkaban fer it. If it hadn't been fer Dumbledore … Good man, Dumbledore! Took me in as gamekeeper. Doubt he could save me twice if word got out, an' I can't make 'im an accomplice!"

Yes, Harry could see the problem with that. If Dumbledore knew and didn't tell, and it eventually got out that Hagrid had hatched a dragon in his hut … It would be on Dumbledore's head, too.

Harry probably got lucky to only get a detention, if Hagrid had been expelled for keeping an illegal pet. It couldn't have been much more dangerous than a poisonous viper, after all.

They continued on their track both in a somewhat subdued mood – not that Harry had been in particularly good spirits since he started his detention. But by now, he was tired, cold and generally miserable. They had probably followed the new trail about as long as they had previously travelled it in the other direction, and Harry considered himself adequately punished. The utter uneventfulness of their trip had lulled him into complacency. If anything dangerous lived in this forest, it seemed to be giving them a wide berth.

The trail of blood, however, was getting thicker and thicker, which didn't bode well for the injured unicorn.

As they came onto a clearing, they could suddenly make out a spot of brightness on the ground, right where the undergrowth was growing denser again on the other side. Had it been winter, Harry might have suspected a heap of pristine snow. But he knew what they were looking at – a dying unicorn. A light tremor went through its body and its legs twitched feebly and helplessly. The light seemed to grow dimmer before their eyes, and the darkness was threatening to consume it.

How astute and how very real this description of the scenery was became apparent when the darkness suddenly seemed to move and they spotted a black, cloaked shadow looming over the dying body.

Harry stood frozen in horror when he realised what exactly they were seeing. The cloaked figure was hunched over the wound on the dead animal's neck, the hood close to its neck. Disgusting slurping sounds made clear what the creepy, shadowy figure was doing: drinking the unicorn's blood and draining it of the last remnants of life force.

Harry and Hagrid stopped dead in their tracks. The half-giant growled a deep, rumbling and very menacing sound that Harry had never thought the gentle man capable of, and reached for his bow. Harry knew instinctively that they had come too late. The glowing white of the unicorn's fur became dull, as if it had been lit from the inside before and the lights had suddenly been turned off.

Alarmed by their arrival, the hooded figure raised its head. Harry couldn't make out any features, but the moment his eyes met the glowing red ones in the middle of the hood-enclosed darkness, he felt a piercing pain explode in his head as if a knife was driven right into his scar. Blindly, he staggered backward clutching his head, sure that it was on fire.

Tom screamed and Harry was screaming as well, drowning out the sound of angry voices, shouting and galloping hooves.

When the pain finally lessened and Harry got his bearings again, panic set in, as he remembered what had happened the last time this kind of pain had pierced his skull.

"Tom?" Harry cried out fearfully, before he remembered to use his mental voice to ask: "Are you there still?"

Weak groaning was his only response, but it was enough to make Harry sigh in relief. Whatever caused these episodes to happen didn't seem to cause lasting harm to his friend.

"Are yeh alright, Harry?" asked Hagrid, who had crouched down beside him with a worried expression on his face. "Who're yeh calling?"

"What?" asked Harry, pretending to be more befuddled than he actually was. "Just what was that?" Only now did he realize that his voice was slightly shaking – as was his body. It was very cold.

"Something evil. Hush, now, Harry, 's alright. I'm gonna get yeh back ter the castle posthaste. Don't yeh worry now."

Harry sat up, noticing that they were no longer alone in the clearing. Three centaurs had joined them, looking grimly at the scene.

"You are the young Potter," said one of them. His body was that of a light, golden-beige horse, the hair on his human head a matching blond, the eyes a sapphire blue. "You should all leave. The forest is not safe for you."

"We'll be outa here as fast as this lil'one's leg can carry 'im", said Hagrid, nodding to the centaurs.

The centaur who spoke before stepped forward. "It will be faster and safer if he climbs on my back."

The other centaurs, who had been quiet so far, protested loudly – apparently, they found it beneath a centaur's dignity to carry humans on their backs as if they were horses, but the first one, Firenze seemed to be his name, was adamant that Harry had to get out of the forest as soon as possible.

A discussion about 'reading the planets' and 'centaurs not concerning themselves with human issues' ensued, which Harry couldn't quite follow. It ended with Firenze firmly stating that he would side with humans to stand against evil, if need be, and lowering down on his knees so that Harry could climb on his back.

"Thank you, Sir," said Harry, hoping to diffuse the tension by showing respect and appreciation. They walked in silence for a while, but when his shock had worn off a little, Harry couldn't help but ask: "What was that being that hurt the unicorn, Sir?"

"Do you know what unicorn blood is used for, Harry Potter?" asked Firenze back. Harry shook his head. He had only heard about the use of hair and horn in healing potions.

"Killing a unicorn is the ultimate evil. Only someone who had nothing to lose would even consider it. Like the horn, unicorn blood has incredibly strong healing qualities – strong enough to bind to life what is already much closer to death. But murdering something so pure and innocent to use its blood for one's own purpose demands a price that most people would deem far too high. Whoever did this – his life is now forever cursed."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means he will find no peace, no happiness, not even contentment – his life is but a half-life, a mere existence."

"But who, then, would make such a terrible choice and condemn himself to that?" asked Harry, appalled.

"Someone desperately afraid of not existing", said Firenze gloomily, and the remaining distance back to the castle was covered in silence.