After the successive snowstorms, this former Acromantula territory had changed beyond recognition.
The bowl-shaped hollow was blanketed in snow, as though draped in a thick white fur rug that buried all the dirt and stones within.
Its former desolation had vanished completely. Pines and birches had taken root here.
A crescent moon hung high over the Forbidden Forest at midnight. Its cool, pale light spilled down over this former Acromantula territory, cloaking it in a silvery sheen.
The relentless snowstorms had stripped the birches bare. Their pale bark glimmered faintly beneath the cold moonlight.
The pine needles remained green and sturdy, while their still-young branches bore clumps of snow like fluffy white caps.
Life had returned to this place.
On the snow, snow hares could be seen poking their heads out from the distant woods, their ears twitching warily as though investigating something.
Once they had confirmed it was safe, they darted across the bowl-shaped hollow like streaks of white lightning, leaving a trail of footprints before vanishing into the other side of the Forbidden Forest.
Several Bowtruckles could also be seen hurrying over. They chewed on freshly harvested woodlouse eggs as they wandered between the pines and birches.
They had finally found a suitable birch tree. After working together in concert, they at last made their home in one of its branches.
Beneath the snow lay a different scene.
One of Wizet's laboratories was there, and it contained only a single test subject—Fenrir Greyback.
Fenrir Greyback hung suspended in midair, his neck and limbs bound in shackles, his body stretched into an exaggerated spread-eagle shape.
Sleeping in such a position made restful sleep difficult indeed.
At that moment, Fenrir Greyback resembled a puppet—a puppet draped in human skin.
The muscles he had once taken such pride in had