Threat in the Forbidden Forest

Silvan waited by the edge of the Forbidden Forest for a while longer, but he never noticed anything unusual nearby, nor did anyone noteworthy come this way.

He hesitated over whether to return to the castle and join McGonagall and the others in resisting the Death Eaters, or help Madam Pomfrey tend to the wounded. Those were all things he could do.

Yet whenever he thought that, a voice rose in his heart. "No. I should stay here."

And that feeling grew stronger and stronger, even far surpassing the urge that had sent him to the courtyard earlier.

So Silvan entered the forest, found a fairly level stump, and sat down to wait for whatever might happen next.

Felix Felicis was still working. There was not a single Death Eater nearby, and no one noticed that amid this battlefield of explosions and magic, someone could actually sit there so leisurely.

During that time, Silvan saw Remus Lupin. He was being besieged by at least seven Death Eaters, yet miraculously showed no sign of losing ground.

Because Lupin had transformed into a Werewolf—a Werewolf in broad daylight. Even from half the field away, Silvan could practically see the terror on those Death Eaters' faces.

And Lupin did not look like an ordinary Werewolf. Every strand of fur on his body stood on end, as though he were wearing a thick suit of armor. It deflected nearly every spell, and from a distance, he looked like a miniature Hagrid.

That wasn't right. Werewolf fur did not have such an outrageous effect.

A normal Werewolf's fur could block most spells, but only common, ordinary magic, such as the Stunning Spell,

or the Full Body-Bind Curse.

Most of the spells the Death Eaters used were far more destructive Dark Magic. There was no way