A Sword Through the Kidneys

Even in History of Magic, Professor Binns began to mention content outside the textbook more frequently.

The only thing that remained unchanged was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Quirrell continued to drone on dryly, reading straight from the textbook. Occasionally, he would offer some of his own insights, though they were always nonsensical, which ironically caused many young wizards' favor for Quirrell to rise.

The only professor who didn't add to their burden!

What a good man.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry, like the other young wizards, was writing at a flying pace.

"Harry, lend me your essay for reference; there's something I don't understand." Hermione leaned over, then let out a soft "huh," "Is this..."

"A map of the Forbidden Forest." Harry lowered his voice, "The areas I've explored so far."

He reached into the Sorting Hat, pulled out a stack of essays, and asked, "Which one do you need?"

"Thanks." Hermione didn't stand on ceremony and took them all.

Ron clicked his tongue, "Miss Granger, you've fallen, too."

"Shut up!" Hermione glared at him, "I'm not like you. I'm not copying, just referencing to find some ideas."

Ron made a sarcastic noise, clicking his tongue even louder.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and waved her wand threateningly.

Ron immediately shut his mouth and pressed his hand down on the essay belonging to Hermione that lay before him.

When the night grew deep, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak and headed toward the Forbidden Forest once more.

There was still a vast area left unexplored, much of which he had marked as extremely dangerous—like the territory of the Acromantula. Unless he had searched the entire forest and failed to find a Bicorn, he would never risk going there.

Just as he ventured deep into the woods.

A thick, bloody scent surged into his nose with the wind, mixed with the sour, grassy smell of the forest.

It was the scent of a Unicorn.

Was it injured?

Harry was somewhat surprised. Although these creatures were classified as "XXXX," it didn't mean they were as easy to deal with as a Troll; they were simply very docile. Even toward men, they usually only drove them away and rarely caused harm.

What kind of creature could do this?

A Bicorn?

This cursed creature that fed on kindness and justice seemed very likely, and certainly had the strength, to strike at a Unicorn.

He pulled his Invisibility Cloak tighter and soon found the first traces of blood.

Silvery-white, as bright as moonlight, it was scattered messily on the ground—yet, the blood of this holy creature made Harry afraid to reach out and touch it. A strong sense of malice emanated from the blood, making him instinctively pull away.

He followed the trail of blood.

A shrill neighing sound, a series of mournful wails.

Behind a thicket, a Unicorn lay with both legs broken, struggling desperately. A milky-white holy light surged from its horn, dazzling and brilliant, yet its life force was growing increasingly withered.

In front of it, a wizard in black robes waved his wand. Vines slowly converged from the surroundings, binding the creature's neck and hoisting it into the air.

Harry frowned slightly.

There were many ways to kill a Unicorn; why choose such a cruel method?

He raised his wand, aimed it at the black-robed wizard, and chanted the spell: "Full-Speed Knockback!"

The Knockback Jinx!

Invisible magic surged, shooting toward the man like an arrow.

The black-robed wizard reacted quickly. Almost instantly, his left hand moved, and an iron shield manifested around his body, deflecting the spell.

However, the vines hoisting the Unicorn remained undisturbed, pulling it higher and higher as its breathing grew weaker.

"Who's there!" The black-robed wizard turned around, his tone harsh, but he didn't cast any spells. He had to maintain his magic; in his mind, nothing was more important than killing the Unicorn.

Harry raised his wand again, but not at the wizard—he aimed at the vines: "Diffindo!"

The vines were severed.

The Unicorn crashed heavily to the ground.

It gasped for air, whimpering softly, but at least... it was still alive.

He hadn't managed to kill it!

This infuriated the black-robed wizard. He waved his wand toward the thicket where the spell had originated and shrieked, "Hellfire."

Fiendfyre!

Black flames surged, devouring the thicket and spreading at an incredible speed, overwhelming and tumultuous.

Harry, who had already dodged to the side, felt his heart palpitate.

What kind of flame was this?

The evil aura made him feel like he was about to vomit.

Such a powerful spell was a burden even for the robed wizard, his breathing growing heavy.

"He's not there, you fool!" Suddenly, Harry heard another voice, hoarse, raspy, and brimming with fury. "Stop looking for that student wandering the night!"

"Quickly, let me drink its blood."

The robed wizard's voice turned cowardly: "Master, it is not yet dead..."

"The curse is not yet potent enough, but it will suffice. If Dumbledore arrives, I shall not be able to escape!" That hoarse voice made Harry's scar throb with pain. "I only need to recover a sliver of my strength."

The robed wizard slowly leaned down, moving to bite the neck of the Unicorn—the holy beast, having just regained a modicum of strength, could only let out a mournful whinny.

It allowed its blood to be drained by this man.

Fiendfyre gathered into a circle, surrounding him.

Harry raised his wand and fired two brilliant green sparks into the sky.

"It's over there!" the hoarse voice rasped, sounding more powerful now. The robed wizard obediently raised his wand, and the Fiendfyre coalesced into a mass, lunging toward that direction.

But it struck nothing but air.

"You idiot, a Disillusionment Charm, a potion, or perhaps an Invisibility Cloak." The hoarse voice cursed. "If you cannot see him, you are no match for him!"

The robed wizard realized his mistake and raised his wand high: "Finite Incantatem!"

A surge of tyrannical magic rippled outward.

The rolling waves of black fire stiffened and gradually extinguished. The wind whistled through the surroundings, leaves rustling, as if time itself had been paused.

Yet, no figure appeared.

It was not a magical effect.

Then it must be... the Invisibility Cloak.

"Windblast!" He incanted the spell again. A powerful gust of wind erupted from his center, scouring and ravaging the area; since the Invisibility Cloak was, after all, a cloak, this was the best spell to counter it.

But...

Within his field of vision, there was no one.

"Behind you, you fool!" the hoarse voice barked.

Too late!

Harry whipped off his cloak, aiming his wand at the robed wizard, but he did not cast a spell. Instead, he hooked his middle finger around the wand and splayed his other four fingers.

Aard Sign!

The robed wizard reacted with lightning speed, casting a Shield Charm to protect his body—it was useless! This was not a spell; his body was struck as if by a charging bull, and he tumbled uncontrollably to the ground.

Harry drew his sword and stabbed down viciously.

Squelch—

It struck true in the abdomen, blood gushing out.

He prepared to strike a second blow immediately, aiming for the head to finish the execution.

The robed wizard was, after all, no amateur from some magical drama academy. He reacted nimbly, waving his wand. His robes twisted, the edges extending and transforming into sharp, withered hands that reached out and seized Harry's wrist.

A death grip.

It made it impossible for him to land the second strike immediately.

And in that very instant, the person beneath the robes dissolved into a plume of thick smoke, drifting away and vanishing into the pitch-black dense forest.

As the magic dissipated, those withered hands reverted back into robes, fluttering to the ground.

He had escaped.

Harry remained on guard, crouching with his sword held ready. With one hand, he waved his wand, whispering a spell. The robes drifted around him, circling the land scorched by the Fiendfyre, over and over again.

In the distance, heavy footsteps, the barking of a dog, the frantic clatter of hooves, and—a powerful surge of magic that should have vanished, but had suddenly reappeared.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light erupted in the dense forest.

In Harry's eyes, only that streak of green remained, and in his senses, only death. But he had been prepared; he rolled to the side, and the Killing Curse missed, striking the ground and exploding violently, sending a chunk of earth the size of a head flying.

Was he so resentful after being stabbed by me?

The footsteps drew closer and grew more chaotic.

The light of a kerosene lamp shone through, accompanied by Hagrid's stern voice: "Who's there—Harry?"

"Harry, why are you here?"

"What's going on?"

Harry tilted his head: "I'll explain in a moment. Can you check if this Unicorn can still be saved?"

Hagrid knelt down to examine its injuries. He took only one look before roaring in fury: "Who would do such a thing to it?"

"Good heavens, look at its wounds, and on its neck—"

His voice suddenly choked off. Teeth marks—teeth marks that had pierced through the skin.

"Someone is drinking Unicorn blood?" He grew terrified.

Harry nodded, remaining vigilant: "Yes, I saw him—or rather, them—drinking it with my own eyes."

"Who?" Hagrid asked.

Harry shook his head, saying nothing: "Let's go, we need to see Dumbledore."

Hagrid hoisted the Unicorn onto his shoulders, and the creature, having been severely traumatized tonight, struggled violently.

"There, there, it's alright." Hagrid patted its belly, soothing it: "I'm taking you back to heal, trust me, we've met before, haven't we?"

Harry couldn't help but glance over: "You know it?"

"I've met the herd in the Forbidden Forest a few times, and I've even helped them look after their newborns." Speaking of this, Hagrid swelled with pride.

The Unicorn gradually calmed down.

Harry slowly approached his Invisibility Cloak: "Let's go, he shouldn't have the guts to—"

Before he could finish his sentence.

Another Killing Curse.

A green light shot toward Harry—

Hagrid's eyes widened: "No!"

Harry had not let his guard down; he rolled across the ground, dodging it once again.

"An Unforgivable Curse!" Hagrid's voice trembled as he looked toward the source of the spell: "Who is it!"

Harry waved his hand: "Go!"

He had caught the person's scent—filthy, putrid, mixed with the stench of blood and raw kidneys.

If he were twenty years old now, he would definitely take him down.

But he couldn't.

He was only eleven; some things... had to be left for the "adults" to solve.

The Killing Curse did not appear again; that had been his final attempt. They left the Forbidden Forest cautiously, Harry draped his Invisibility Cloak back over himself, and only when they entered the castle did the two of them finally breathe a sigh of relief.

They headed straight for the Headmaster's Office.

Once the stone gargoyle finished its message, the two of them saw Dumbledore wearing star-and-moon patterned pajamas, holding a cup of... what could almost be described as syrup.

"Hagrid, and Harry." Dumbledore yawned: "Disturbing an old man's sleep like this is not a good thing."

"Especially you, Harry; a young wizard should be tucked in bed at this hour."

Harry did not hold back: "An old wizard shouldn't be nursing a cup of sugar water at this hour either."

Hagrid interrupted them in a panic: "Professor Dumbledore, you know—there have been attacks on Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest lately. I was patrolling when I suddenly saw a spell shot into the sky, so I rushed over."

"And I found Harry!"

"A dying Unicorn."

"And a Dark Wizard who cast a Killing Curse at Harry!"

A Killing Curse?!

Dumbledore's expression turned grave.