Nighttime Exploration of the Forbidden Forest

Hagrid looked somewhat uneasy: "Harry, is there something wrong with this egg?"

"The one with the problem might be you." Harry patted his thigh—he had intended to pat his shoulder, but while seated, that was as far as he could reach.

Hagrid recounted the events of that night in detail.

Drinking, fishing for information, that person had sidled up to him, played cards with him, lost about two Galleons, and when he ran out of money, he had mysteriously produced a dragon egg, which Hagrid had won in the process.

He had also talked about many magical creatures: Unicorns, Acromantulas, that three-headed dog named Fluffy...

That person seemed to be a very knowledgeable enthusiast of magical creatures.

This seemed... like a perfectly normal topic of conversation?

"So, what did you set up in the fourth-floor corridor?" Harry asked out of the blue. "An Acromantula or the three-headed dog?"

"It's Fluffy, he's very loyal..." Hagrid answered instinctively, but halfway through, he realized something was wrong. He stood up with a jerk, knocking his chair over, which clattered onto the floor. "Harry, how do you know that!"

"Dumbledore told me." Harry waved his hand, signaling him to calm down.

Hagrid steadied his chair and sat back down: "Him? How could he tell you about this?"

"I have an agreement with him; that's not important." Harry looked at the dragon egg. "It seems that person was deliberately getting close to you."

Hagrid finally reacted, his face turning pale: "Are you saying he wants to steal the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"It's most likely the same person who raided Gringotts last time," Ron added.

Hermione drew a conclusion: "Then it's Professor Quirrell?"

"No, no, no." Hagrid shook his head like a rattle. "How can you speculate about a professor like that? Last time it was Professor Snape, this time it's Quirrell..."

Harry interrupted him: "This is also something I confirmed with Dumbledore."

Hagrid opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.

He didn't even know...

How could Dumbledore tell Harry everything?!

"I think you'd better talk to Dumbledore about this," Harry suggested earnestly.

Hagrid hesitated: "But... how am I supposed to explain the dragon egg?"

"Hagrid!" Hermione sounded somewhat agitated. "This is a dragon! It's manageable now, but once it hatches, it will grow as big as your hut in two months!"

"And it will breathe fire and burn your house down," Ron chimed in.

Hagrid looked at Harry with a pitiful expression.

"I've seen a few potions that require a dragon egg." Harry was very interested. "Give it to me, and I'll take care of it for you. I can give you twenty Galleons, maybe thirty."

Hagrid was shocked: "No, it's a dragon, a living creature."

"It hasn't hatched yet." Harry began considering potion recipes. "A dragon egg is a rare sight."

Hagrid stood up again and pulled Harry and his chair a little further away: "No, Harry, you're right. I have to be honest and explain everything to Dumbledore."

"Alright." Harry said regretfully. "But if Dumbledore finds a way for you to keep it, could you provide me with some dragon scales or dragon blood?"

Hagrid hesitated. He looked into Harry's eyes, which betrayed no emotion, and nodded slowly: "If I'm allowed to keep it, I can provide a little bit."

"Only a little bit."

As long as the dragon egg wasn't turned into a potion, anything was fine.

They stayed for a while, but unable to bear the sweltering heat, they turned to leave, incidentally receiving a bag of Rock Cakes that had been baked until they were slightly soft.

Just outside the hut, Ron took a deep breath of the cool air: "I was nearly suffocated in there."

"Wait, Harry, didn't we come here for materials?" Hermione had only taken a few steps when she remembered something, stopped, and reminded him.

Ron froze and slapped his own forehead: "Blast, seeing the dragon egg made me forget."

"Hagrid is in a much worse state than I am right now." Harry shook his head. "He wants to raise that dragon far too much."

"Then what do we do?" Hermione frowned. "We can only go and steal some from Professor Snape's..."

Harry interrupted her, speaking softly: "Hagrid mentioned that there are traces of Bicorn activity in the Forbidden Forest. I plan to go into the Forbidden Forest to take a look."

"No, the Forbidden Forest is too dangerous." Hermione rejected the idea decisively.

Harry shook his head: "It's still better than facing Professor Snape."

At the thought of those greasy long hairs and the bat-like figure, Ron couldn't help but shiver: "I'd rather face a giant dragon than go up against Professor Snape."

Hermione opened her mouth, but the words died in her throat, turning into a sigh. If she were honest with herself, she would rather encounter a Troll in the bathroom again than offend Snape—at least in the bathroom, she knew Harry would come to save her.

"Don't worry, you know I'm very sharp." Harry reassured her. "If I encounter danger, I know how to run, and my legs won't go weak."

Hermione gritted her teeth, stamped her foot, and huffed.

Harry was good at everything.

Except for this mouth of his...

Back in the dormitory, they reviewed the information on Bicorns once more.

This was a very wicked magical creature, and as its name suggested, it possessed two horns—not the symmetrical antlers of a bull, sheep, or deer.

Instead, it had two straight horns, much like a Unicorn's, except that while a Unicorn's horns spiral clockwise, both of its horns spiraled counter-clockwise.

It was fat, with the body of a horse and the hooves of an ox. It loved to eat leopards and oxen, but its favorite food was a kind and loyal husband—Mr. Arthur Weasley, for instance.

Or, if Snape ever had the chance to get married, he might find himself on a Bicorn's menu as well.

They had no particular preference for their living environment; wherever the food was, that was where they stayed.

Their excrement usually carried a bitter, foul odor—a common trait among carnivores.

When night fell, Neville and the others went to sleep.

Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak and slipped out of the dormitory. He hadn't planned on bringing Ron or Hermione, and they hadn't asked to come along, even though Ron had been gazing at him with such affection during dinner—he didn't even look at chicken legs with that much passion.

Filch's footsteps were heavy.

Mrs. Norris—the cat he kept—had a very strong scent.

There were no other professors patrolling.

Night-wandering during the school term was easier than Harry had imagined.

He soon reached the Forbidden Forest and bumped into Hagrid, who was carrying a lantern and patrolling the edge of the woods—he had to keep an eye out for any reckless young wizards or creatures that might have slipped out of the forest.

Fang seemed to sense something and cowered behind Hagrid, only crawling out from under his legs once Harry had walked far away.

As a dark forest inhabited by a vast number of magical creatures, the environment was an eye-opener for Harry.

He hadn't walked very far inside.

He saw a group of Horklumps fast asleep—mushrooms with pink caps and whiskers that looked very much like magical plants, yet they were classified as magical beasts.

When they gathered in large numbers, they could cause quite a bit of trouble for wizards.

Harry snuck over and plucked two of them; they were one of the materials needed for brewing Healing Potions.

Along the edges, he could still see traces of ordinary wildlife: deer, bears, wolves...

But as he walked a little deeper, these ordinary creatures vanished without a trace.

He saw some fresh tracks—hoof prints—but it was hard to tell whether they belonged to a Centaur or a Unicorn. The books he had access to currently didn't contain that information.

There was also a cluster of glowing blue insects; it was almost impossible to observe individuals with the naked eye, but their magical aura was immense.

These were Billywigs, a XXX-rated magical creature. If stung by one, a person would uncontrollably float in the air.

Harry also saw many other creatures.

Thestrals, Murtlaps...

But he never managed to encounter the Bicorn he most wanted to see.

It was almost time for curfew to end when Harry slipped back into the dormitory. He had slept for less than two hours before he woke up to the sounds beginning to stir in the room.

"Harry? Are you awake?" Ron noticed Harry's movement immediately.

Harry nodded.

Ron leaned over: "How did it go?"

"Didn't find it," Harry whispered, "No rush, we'll take it slow."

Every weekend night, he would make a trip to the Forbidden Forest—and every time, he returned with a full haul of various herbs, materials, and he had even once found a Unicorn hair.

But regarding the Bicorn, there was zero progress.

Hermione and Ron were very concerned about the matter, but soon, they lost the capacity to worry about it.

January seemed to be nothing more than a buffer for the new students after the holidays.

Every subject began to progress at an unbelievable speed.

In Transfiguration, they started learning the conversion between objects and living creatures. They had to try to turn a piece of wood into a mouse—a task that made most of the young wizards groan in misery.

Many couldn't even manage to shape the wood into the form of a mouse.

Professor McGonagall was very strict.

Especially after seeing Harry's learning progress, she was dissatisfied with their sluggish performance. With a wave of her hand, she assigned a seven-inch essay—except for Harry, who only had to write three inches.

This made the Little Lions howl again.

Although they still had Hermione's homework to copy—it just wasn't as comfortable as having two people's work to copy from.

Charms class also began to focus on the precision of spellcasting.

The young wizards finally understood why Professor Flitwick had spent the first two classes of the term lecturing solely on magical theory.

The content they had cast aside had become their most difficult stumbling block.

They had to attempt different manifestations of spells—for example, when faced with two doors, they had to cast Alohomora to open only one of them without the other door being affected by the magic.

Seamus was probably the most talented young wizard aside from Harry; even Hermione wasn't as good as him. He successfully opened only one door—though the other door exploded.

Snape's class became the nightmare of all the young wizards.

They were no longer brewing potions from ordinary herbal recipes, but had begun to handle the brewing of magical materials. This was difficult; even the same material could have vastly different manifestations of magical power.

The recipe on the blackboard could not guarantee a successful brew.

Even Harry would occasionally make mistakes, only to be seized upon by Snape for cold mockery.

Herbology became the class with the most incidents.

Magical plants were far more troublesome than potions.

Professor Sprout had to exhaust herself every lesson rescuing young wizards entangled by magical plants, or awarding points to those who reached out to help.

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