Hunting in the Forbidden Forest

Oren slept until late morning on the weekend before dragging himself out of bed. He dug out his notebook, did not even have time to wash his face, and staggered into the common room.

The two little ones were playing Wizard Chess. Harry asked, "Oren, where are you going? To the library?"

A wicked thought crossed Oren's mind. He walked over to Hermione, who was pretending to read while secretly watching him, and said, "I really envy you guys for having no classes on the weekend. Sigh... I can't do that. I have to attend Headmaster Dumbledore's tutoring class on weekends."

Hermione!!!

We all had open-book exams in the library, so why did you get to cheat? Were there even any school rules left? Any laws?

"I really envy you guys," Oren said with a pained expression, though the corners of his mouth were nearly reaching his ears.

"All right, keep eating snacks and playing chess. I'm off first."

The little witch let out a shrill internal scream.

In the headmaster's office, after finishing ideological instruction and his alchemy tutoring session, Oren began helping himself to Dumbledore's candy stash.

"Headmaster, I'm planning to borrow some souls from the Acromantulas this afternoon."

"All right, child. Take one of Fawkes's feathers, then go find Professor Snape. He will go to the Forbidden Forest with you."

Oren nodded and put away the feather.

Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth. "Tell me, how has your first official week of school been?"

"Other than Defence Against the Dark Arts, everything has been pretty good. Even Snape hasn't targeted me anymore. Looks like all those duels over the holiday weren't for nothing."

Dumbledore curled his lip. You called that dueling? You were clearly taking the chance to throw illegal punches!

"Professor Quirrell is terrible. When he talks, it's like two brains are fighting for control of one mouth. I've never heard him say one complete sentence.

"And he smells like rotting flesh covered up with garlic. Why did you let him become the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"

Dumbledore said, "Quirrell used to be a decent professor, but what happened to him during the holiday may have affected him too deeply."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, perhaps Quirrell should go recuperate at St Mungo's."

"Not a bad suggestion. He should indeed pay it a visit after this term ends."

"All right, you should be going back as well. Go spend your weekend leisure time with your roommates, Harry and the others."

Oren rolled his eyes. "Fine, Headmaster. For the greater good."

Ignoring Dumbledore's dark expression, Oren walked out of the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore's eyelid twitched wildly. The boy had not learned much of his real skills, but he had mastered talking in riddles perfectly.

Having played the riddler, Oren felt refreshed. He walked to Snape's office and pushed the door. Hm? It was locked.

Oren ground his teeth. A mere lock wanted to stop him? Had Snape's greasy hair seeped into his brain?

He kicked the door, and it fell over with a creak.

"Tsk... I think I used too much force."

He propped the door back up and set it into the frame, then pulled out the Half-Blood Prince's notes and began reading.

Ten minutes later—

Bang! Snape stared blankly at the door, which had toppled over after being touched by a single finger, and fell into deep thought.

"Professor, you're finally back. Congratulations on mastering divine arts! With one wave of your hand, you wielded such terrifying power. It was simply..."

Listening to Oren's endless flattery, Snape raised an eyebrow. There was only one truth: Oren had broken the door.

With a dark face, Snape repaired the door with magic, grabbed Oren by the collar, and prepared to take him to the empty classroom next door for their daily duel.

"Stop, stop, stop! Professor, I came to see you for something today."

"Something? When have you ever come here without something going on? Either that, or you came to cause trouble."

"Ahem, ahem. This time it's serious business. Headmaster Dumbledore wants you to go to the Forbidden Forest with me."

"Keep fooling yourself, you little troll!"

"Why don't you believe me? Put me down, and I'll show you the headmaster's imperial sword—no, the phoenix feather."

Snape lowered Oren suspiciously and watched as he took something from his pocket, wary that the boy was playing some new trick.

Oren took out the feather. "Look."

Snape did not take it. Instead, he cast several detection spells on it.

"Professor Snape, where's the trust between us?"

"Hmph. Stop wasting my time. Let's go. The sooner we finish, the sooner we return."

"Wait, Professor Snape. I haven't even eaten lunch yet."

"Eat my ass. Hurry up. You waste my time and still want lunch? Go eat leaves in the Forbidden Forest."

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, Oren held a Luoyang shovel and leaned against a tree trunk, panting heavily.

Snape's face was grim. "So Dumbledore sent me to accompany you, you little troll, while you raid Niffler nests?"

"We're here to hunt Acromantulas. Raiding Niffler nests is just on the way."

Then came a string of things like "since we're here" and "a thief never leaves empty-handed," words Snape could not understand.

"Professor, how about we work together? You only need to..."

"Mr. Black, you have quite the imagination. I won't help you. Dumbledore only asked me to watch you, not help you."

Oren curled his lip. Fine, fine, greasy-haired old thief. Don't regret it later.

At that moment, hoofbeats sounded behind the bushes.

"Snape, you should not be wandering around the Forbidden Forest with a foal," said a centaur.

Another centaur added, "Firenze, escort him out."

The centaur called Firenze said, "All right. I'll leave this place to you, Bane."

As Firenze walked over and prepared to pick him up, Oren immediately pulled out the phoenix feather.

"Stop, stop, stop. Look at this. I have special permission from the headmaster to hunt in the Forbidden Forest."

Firenze said, "But..."

"But what? Don't give me that nonsense. I asked around. You centaurs hunt too."

Bane curled his lip. "Hunt? You mean looting Nifflers?"

"How can you slander me out of thin air?" Oren said indignantly. "We just happened to run into them, didn't we?"

Then came more talk about thieves never leaving empty-handed and making the most of being here—words the centaurs could not understand either.

"You said you came to hunt in the Forbidden Forest? Hunt what?"

"Whatever is valuable."

"And what is valuable?"

"Acromantula venom is valuable."

"With you? You should stick to raiding Niffler nests. If you need venom, buy it at the market. There's no shame in that. No need to risk your life."

Oren pointed at the muscular centaur, Bane.

"Can he fight spiders?"

Firenze said, "Bane is strong and skilled with a bow, but he will not help you."

Oren casually conjured a ball of Fiendfyre.

"Can this fight spiders?"

Snape's eyelid began twitching wildly.

Firenze said, "It can, but there won't even be ashes left of the spiders."

Oren pointed at Bane, then at the Fiendfyre, and casually flicked out a small ring of Fiendfyre.

"I'll use Fiendfyre to trap the spiders. You only need to lure them in and shoot them full of arrows from a distance. How about it?"

"Can we kill the Acromantulas standing up today or not?"

Firenze looked at the Fiendfyre and swallowed. "But this is still somewhat dangerous for a foal."

Bane grabbed Firenze. "Fine. But how do we divide the spoils?"

"Simple. Thirty-seventy, then we split the rest fifty-fifty."

Bane looked utterly confused. "What thirty-seventy? What fifty-fifty?"

"First, seventy percent of the spoils will be set aside as a contribution for Headmaster Dumbledore. Then we split the rest fifty-fifty."

Bane said unhappily, "Why should Dumbledore get seventy percent?"

"Why? Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts. Is there a problem with us underlings paying tribute to the boss?"

"There is a problem! Of course there is! We centaurs will be doing most of the work!"

"Dumbledore is the headmaster!"

"We centaurs are doing the work, and we have lived in the Forbidden Forest for generations!"

"Dumbledore is the headmaster!"

"We centaurs are doing the work, and we have lived in the Forbidden Forest for generations!"

Oren twitched at the corner of his mouth. Fine, fine, that was how he wanted to play it?

"All you centaurs tied together still wouldn't be enough to fight Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Centaurs have lived in the Forbidden Forest for generations!"

"Headmaster Dumbledore can fight!"

"Centaurs do the work!"

"Headmaster Dumbledore can fight!"

Bane...

"Fine, then. We'll divide it that way."

Bane thought, Hehe, foolish little wizard. Acromantula spoils are not important to centaurs at all. What matters is that there will no longer be Acromantulas scurrying everywhere. In the end, Bane still wins.

Oren thought, Hehe, foolish centaur. I'm just borrowing Headmaster Dumbledore's name. As if I'd actually give the headmaster seventy percent. The venom and souls are all mine. In the end, Oren still wins.

Snape thought, Hehe, foolish Black. Will you really hand seventy percent of the venom to Dumbledore? Impossible. When the time comes, I'll claim I'm delivering it to Dumbledore on your behalf. I'll stroll around the Forbidden Forest without lifting a finger, and seventy percent of the venom will be mine. In the end, Snape comes out ahead.

"Whew—" Bane blew his horn to call for reinforcements.

Within the Forbidden Forest, ghostly blue flames reflected across everyone's faces. Oren secretly collected the souls of the dead spiders.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Arrows flew into the ring of fire. With nowhere to hide, the Acromantulas could only be carried away by a rain of arrows.

Watching the centaurs shoot at the spiders like living targets made Oren's hands itch. He took a bow and arrows from a centaur resting nearby.

He drew the bow and nocked an arrow. Oren's monstrous strength made the bow creak as he pulled it back, then he aimed at a spider's head and released.

Whoosh— The arrow struck the spider's leg precisely, then bounced away.

"This isn't magic! Is my strength not enough?"

For the first time, Oren began to doubt that great strength could create miracles.

Thud! Snape punched Oren on the head. "You little troll, magical creatures have very high resistance to the brute force of little trolls like you."

"Then how are they doing it?" Oren pointed at the centaurs shooting arrows.

"That is magic!"

Oren dodged Snape's dark hand. "You should've said so earlier."

He drew the bow again. Blue flames lit up on the arrowhead, and this time he used even more strength to pull the string.

Snap. The bow broke.

"Here, take it back. Your thing is no good. It can't deal any real damage."

The centaur shot Oren a disdainful glare.

Ten minutes later—

"Pleasure working together?"

Oren and Bane shook hands. They looked at each other, both convinced they had won big.

Carrying a large bucket of venom, Oren walked out of the Forbidden Forest with Snape.

"Mr. Black, let me help you deliver Dumbledore's share of the venom to him."

"Professor Snape, do you believe that yourself?"

Oren directly hid the large bucket in a pocket enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm, looking ready to keep every last drop.

At night, on the grass beside the Forbidden Forest, the two stood facing one another as a breeze stirred several fallen leaves.

Snape swung his wand. "Stupefy!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" Oren shouted the incantation. He could have cast it without speaking, but shouting it made it feel more imposing.

After a fierce fight, Snape barely won despite taking seven punches, prying twenty percent of the venom from Oren's hands.