The Hufflepuff Head of House Had to Get Involved!

Patience.

It was the most important part of hunting.

The scent of love drifted through the Forbidden Forest, carried on the wind.

Many creatures came and went, drawn by the meat.

A hungry pack of wolves greedily devoured the fattest parts.

A scruffy fox stole scraps of leg meat from between them.

The wild dogs and cats could only snatch whatever they could, then carry it off in their mouths. They had no place at the "dinner table."

The creatures were strangely harmonious. There was no fighting, no arguing.

They silently enjoyed the feast that had fallen from the sky.

They were beasts at the top of the food chain, but in this forest, they were nothing more than "prey."

They weren't even fortunate enough to enjoy the feast for long. Before they'd had much time to eat, an old wolf suddenly threw back its head and let out a panicked howl. The pack immediately tucked their tails and fled in a chaotic scramble, leaving behind a mess of pawprints and more than half a dead cow.

The centaurs came.

They'd also caught the scent of Amortentia.

During his previous trips into the Forbidden Forest, Harry had often run into these self-proclaimed protectors of the forest. They never so much as greeted him—Hagrid had said that centaurs hated humans, though they were a little more tolerant of children.

Avoiding unnecessary danger was the most important rule of survival.

The one at the head of the group glanced at the stars and let out a long sigh.

They didn't touch the cow. Instead, they turned and led their people away.

It seemed they'd come specifically to drive off the beasts.

When night fell.

Clip-clop, clip-clop—

The crisp sound of hooves approached. A bulky, fat creature cautiously emerged from the bushes. At last, the target Harry had been waiting so long for appeared.

It greedily sniffed the strong scent in the air.

Pure, faithful love!

But when it saw the source of the scent—the cow carcass, chewed to pieces—it tilted its head in confusion. Cows didn't seem like creatures that were particularly faithful in love.

Perhaps this one was an exception.

A meal that suited its tastes this well was rare. There weren't many even in the castle outside the forest.

It walked over, lowered its head, and licked up some blood.

The taste was a little off.

Hesitating, it licked up a second mouthful, from the part where the scent of love was strongest.

Now it was sure.

Fake!

This wasn't love!

It was false, ugly, fabricated to deceive it.

The Bicorn roared furiously, raised a hoof, and stomped the cow carcass to pieces in a fit of rage.

This was the perfect moment!

Harry finally made his move. He pulled a potion bottle from under his robe and hurled it at the creature. With a crash, the bottle shattered, and its murky gray contents splattered across the beast's bloated body. Instantly, its skin erupted in a dense rash of boils—Neville's failed potion.

The strange sensation on its skin made the Bicorn cry out in pain.

Harry continued to wave his wand. With a few swishes—

The vines wrapped around the cow slithered like snakes, coiling around the creature and pinning it down.

"Aguamenti!"

"Glacius!"

He fired off a few more spells.

Water splashed over it, quickly freezing into solid ice and further tightening its bonds.

The Bicorn struggled with all its might, crying out in panic as magic began to gather around its horns. Black as mist, it spread with a heavy, ominous presence.

"Relaxation Charm!" Harry added another spell.

Then he formed a hand sign.

"Igni!"

A molten Fire Serpent wrapped around its neck, scorching its skin.

Harry cast a golden Quen shield over himself, then threw off his Invisibility Cloak, drew his sword, and charged forward.

But the Bicorn had been waiting for this moment.

The instant it saw Harry, the Dark Magic around its horns shot toward him—

Harry had been ready and rolled aside, but the curse could turn corners. It chased him and slammed into his shield, bursting into brilliant golden sparks.

A trace of black mist fell onto his robe.

Sizzle—

It dissolved the fabric and seeped through with ease, dripping onto his Troll armor. The magic left in it was already feeble, and it couldn't penetrate the armor's defenses. With a couple of sizzles, it vanished completely.

The Bicorn began gathering a second curse.

Harry gave it no chance. He raised his sword and swung at its neck, aiming for the spot scorched black by the flames.

The blade was sharp enough to cut through bone.

The enormous head rolled away, its horns catching on the ground beside the cow carcass.

"I didn't expect you to do it this way..." The Sorting Hat sounded conflicted, almost wistful.

"What did you think I'd do?" Harry asked back. "Charge straight at it like I did when I dealt with the Troll?"

He waved his wand.

The vines wrapped around the cow carcass again and slammed it into the Bicorn's head.

The instant flesh touched the horns, the enormous, evil curse unleashed the last of its vitality. Black mist billowed out, and the cow carcass quickly shriveled, turning foul and stinking.

It was a horrifying sight.

"That's not very Gryffindor at all," the Sorting Hat muttered. "You could have taken it on face-to-face."

"But this was safe. It's a '4X'-rated Dark Magic creature," Harry replied. He tested the cow carcass a few more times, and only after confirming that no curse remained did he crouch down to harvest the materials.

If you could get the drop on something, why fight it head-on?

The Sorting Hat kept muttering about wizarding glory and the honor of battle.

Harry cut off the horns and stuffed them into the hat, silencing it.

Harry slipped out of the Forbidden Forest. He didn't head straight back to Gryffindor Tower, but went directly to the third floor.

"Wait, Harry, where are you going?" The Sorting Hat realized something was wrong and tried to talk him out of it. "This isn't the way back to the tower."

"I know." Harry nodded, his tone calm.

When he reached Professor McGonagall's office, he took off his Invisibility Cloak and knocked respectfully.

A short while later, the door opened.

Professor McGonagall, dressed in cat-patterned pajamas, opened it. She looked surprised to see Harry. "I thought it was Filch. What are you doing here, Harry?"

"It's curfew..."

"Professor, I just broke the rules and went into the Forbidden Forest." Harry answered honestly.

Professor McGonagall was even more surprised. She let out a string of exclamations. "Oh, goodness..."

Harry's words left her at a loss for how to respond.

She knew how unruly the Little Lions could be.

Bullying professors, sneaking out at night, breaking into the Restricted Section and the Forbidden Forest...

But that was how Hogwarts had always been—as long as you weren't caught, you were a good student who followed the rules.

Harry was the first to turn himself in to a professor—and to look so eager about it, too.

It had happened once last term, but she'd later learned why: Harry had run into Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore had told Harry to give him an explanation.

And Harry had given it to her.

What was it this time?

Had he run into another Dark wizard?

Her expression turned alarmed. "Potter, are you hurt? What did the Dark wizard look like—"

"Professor, Hogwarts may not be completely safe," Harry said tactfully, "but it's not a sieve with Dark wizards getting in every few days."

"There were only magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest."

"Nothing happened?" McGonagall asked suspiciously.

Harry nodded. "Nothing happened." At least, nothing had happened to him.

"Then you should go back to bed, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't do this again. The Forbidden Forest isn't a place for young wizards to—"

"Professor, shouldn't you give me detention?" Harry asked.

McGonagall froze.

So...

Harry had come all this way in the middle of the night to turn himself in for this?

She thought of Flitwick and tensed, sensing trouble.

Before she could say anything—

"I have detention with Professor Snape every Thursday and Saturday," Harry suggested. "How about Wednesday and Friday with you?"

"That should be fine." McGonagall nodded hesitantly.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow... no, tonight." Harry bowed slightly. "Good night, Professor McGonagall. Sleep well."

"Good night." McGonagall waved mechanically as she said goodbye to Harry.

"Wait, Minerva, Harry's provoking you!" the Sorting Hat shouted. "That outrageous little Lion did it on purpose."

"Shouldn't you take twenty points from Gryffindor?"

Professor McGonagall shot the hat a dangerous, sharp look.

The Sorting Hat's voice faltered. "Perhaps ten?"

"Take fifty points from the Sorting Hat." Harry gave it a smack. "Why take points when you can give someone detention?"

"Professor, I'd like detention for the entire school year."

McGonagall's heart skipped a beat. She waved her hands. "No. Sneaking into the Forbidden Forest only calls for two weeks of detention..."

"I might go again in the future." Harry shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Might as well arrange it all at once. That'll save us wasting time next time."

McGonagall sighed, torn.

Once Harry was gone—

She felt utterly exhausted. Every Head of House hoped to have an outstanding student. They took pride in it, but... not one quite so eager for detention.

She could already picture herself ending up just like Flitwick in six months.

But she didn't resent it.

Harry was different from every other student.

The others only had to face the OWLs and NEWTs, while he had to face Voldemort.

Snape was so awful.

Why had he put a Bezoar in Dumbledore's head, making him come up with the foolish decision to send a first-year wizard to face Voldemort?

"Take five points from Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall said it quietly and reluctantly. The Sorting Hat had reminded her that, as deputy headmistress, she needed to maintain strict standards, so she'd finally spoken up.

Spending so much time with Dumbledore had rubbed off on the hat, too.

Back in her office, she began wondering how she could drag the Hufflepuff Head of House into this. She'd heard Dumbledore mention that Harry was learning spells from Snape.

Three of the four Heads of House had already been roped into dealing with him. Surely the last one couldn't escape unscathed.

Gryffindor Common Room.

It was quiet.

Only two people sat by the fireplace.

Ron was sprawled over the table, a book in hand. He was asleep, but his mouth hadn't stopped moving; he was still reciting the Transfiguration Code.

Hermione was poring over Potent Potion.

Hearing a sound, she turned and saw Harry. She hurriedly put down her book. "Harry, you're back? Why did it take so long?"

It was already past two in the morning.

"That creature was cautious and refused to show itself," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "But it worked out well. I got what I came for."

Thanks to Su Sr for the donation!

Thanks to Otsutsuki Urashiki, Jiraiya, White Dragon Immortal, and Dante's Throne for the donations!

There'll be another update tonight—4K! I didn't manage to write 4K this afternoon QAQ!