Chapter 63: Skirmish
Late at night, the dim yellow kerosene lamp light swayed on the path inside the Forbidden Forest.
Walking along the path turning right at the fork for nearly half an hour, they had reached deep into the dense forest, with mottled night shadows and utter silence, as if all animals had hidden away to avoid the snow, the icy evening wind stirring the treetops under the moonlight.
Gamekeeper Hagrid, also the supervisor for Harry and Ron’s detention punishment this time, carried an oil lamp, with a stone bow and quiver slung over his back, trudging ahead with deep and shallow steps.
A gust of cold wind blew straight at them, surrounding treetops shaking off accumulated snow with a rustling sound, Harry and Ron huddling closer to the front to shelter behind Hagrid’s burly figure from the chill wind.
The surroundings were too quiet, the sound of snow falling to the ground unusually clear, Hagrid noticing the two youngsters a bit uneasy, chuckled and said:
“What, are you scared now? You were plenty brave brawling in the school corridors, show some Gryffindor courage!”
“Hagrid, we’ve walked the school corridors hundreds of times, but this is our first time deep in the Forbidden Forest. If you really want us to get familiar with this place, bring us here for an adventure in the daytime.” Harry sniffed, head not lifted, the vapor from his breath forming a white mist around his mouth and nose as he spoke.
“Call George and Fred, they’d definitely be interested.” Ron shrunk his neck, wearing a knit hat made by Mrs. Weasley on his head.
“Don’t even think about it, patrolling the Forbidden Forest is your detention punishment, not some fun adventure activity.” Hagrid exhaled white mist, “It’s only because professors are accompanying, and there are recently organized centaur patrol teams, that the Forbidden Forest is relatively safe; otherwise, even if it was Dumbledore’s suggestion, I wouldn’t agree to letting you patrol the Forbidden Forest at night.”
“…”
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, only then realizing that patrolling the Forbidden Forest was the headmaster’s idea.
The biting wind gradually died down, the Forbidden Forest quieting again, Hagrid focused on clearing the path ahead, Harry and Ron following behind, staring at the moss-covered stumps and pitch-black shrubbery depths on both sides.
Their ears gradually picked up faint rustling sounds again, Harry and Ron pressing close to the half-giant’s mole skin coat, waiting a moment, but discovering no wind this time, not the sound of treetops shaking off snow.
Hagrid also sensed something off, the three stopping their steps, listening intently with ears tilted.
“Rustle…”
“Whoosh…”
Not the sound of snow falling, more like robes or a cloak brushing through shrubbery, light footsteps stepping on the snow.
Hagrid, Harry, and Ron keenly realized there were others moving through the Forbidden Forest.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Levent had taken people along the other two paths, impossible to appear nearby, and centaurs stepping through snow didn’t make that sound.
“…”
Hagrid immediately shielded the two behind him, narrowing his eyes to scrutinize the surroundings carefully, not seeing what it was, but that sound circled twice then slowly faded into the side ahead.
“Strangers have entered the forest, strangers who don’t belong here…” Hagrid said in a low voice.
“Who?” Harry and Ron looked up at him.
“Not sure, but I suspect this is why the centaurs suddenly went on alert.” Hagrid shook his head, “Never mind that, we need to be cautious on the rest of the path, let’s pick up the pace and head back soon.”
Though saying to pick up the pace, they proceeded even more cautiously, Hagrid switching the oil lamp to his left hand so his right could draw and shoot at any time, Harry and Ron gripping their wands tightly, alert to all faint sounds around.
Over the next ten minutes, that sound reappeared repeatedly, as if guiding or urging them forward.
A shadow loomed over the three’s hearts, following the rugged path deeper in, the ground becoming narrow and difficult, Harry starting to get a headache, unsure if it was from too much cold air or something else.
Passing a snow-covered shrubbery, that sound had been absent for a while.
“Maybe some animal, startled awake by our footsteps, so it’s following us.” Hagrid said in a lowered voice, passing an ancient oak tree with tangled branches, his words suddenly halting.
Ahead suddenly opened an empty space, moonlight clear, view wide.
The three stared at the open space ahead, Hagrid’s expression frozen on his face, silently setting down the oil lamp, stepping slightly forward to block in front of Harry and Ron.
Ron tremblingly peered through Hagrid’s arm at the front, two figures facing off, shadows of two-legged and four-hoofed stances stretched long on the snow. On the left a mysterious wizard in a cloak with hood, on the right a pure white unicorn.
Body a sturdy horse form, robust muscles and prominent bones showing unique beauty, mane and tail fur shimmering holy silver-white, as if moonlight condensed within, dark eyes lively, a sharp straight horn.
Normally seeing a unicorn from books, Ron would cheer with joy, but now he couldn’t be happy, even feeling his throat clogged, somewhat unable to breathe.
The mysterious wizard in the cloak ahead turned sideways toward them, slightly raising his head, hood shadow covering his cheeks, face unclear, but a pair of sinister ruthless eyes visible, carrying unrestrained malice, when his gaze fell on Harry, revealing a viper staring at prey-like cruel look.
Harry meeting that gaze, a sharp pain instantly piercing his head, like a red-hot iron branding his forehead scar, vision blurring, as if the nearby shrubbery was swaying.
“Urgh…” Harry staggered twice, grabbing Hagrid’s robe to barely steady himself.
Ron not yet reacting to what happened, saw Harry like he was hit by a hex, greatly alarmed, wand waved, a brilliant red spark exploding in the sky.
The mysterious wizard turned his wand, tip pointing at the three.
“Get back!”
The open space deep in the Forbidden Forest echoed with the half-giant’s roar.
In the roar, the two students were pushed, stumbling behind a sturdy oak tree, the unicorn that had been facing off crouching low, snow under rear hooves exploding instantly, entire body charging at the mysterious wizard, horn on head gleaming cold hard light.
Hagrid, pointed at by the wand tip, also moved instantly, nocking arrow drawing bow in one fluid motion.
Arrow whistling, three sharp arrows straight at the mysterious wizard’s throat and both shoulders, the hunting-expert half-giant blocking all his dodge routes. Bowstring of fire dragon tendon, as no wood sturdy enough to bear it, thus stone bow body, cold iron arrows traded from Albanian merchants at Hog’s Head Inn, quenched with Wolfsbane Potion.
Hunting unicorns is an extremely brutal act, trading the slaughter of pure weak life for clinging to one’s own life, only the most evil dark wizards would do it!
Three arrows shot out, Hagrid didn’t stop, immediately reaching for the quiver to continue attacking, a wizard hunting unicorns at midnight couldn’t be good, deeply knowledgeable in magical creatures, Hagrid prepared no holds barred, gamekeeper’s duty to protect this forest.
Not a single arrow hit that figure, several feet away, the wand lightly moved, those sharp arrows suddenly halting mid-air, as if an invisible force field existed there. The charging unicorn stopped before him, four hooves off the ground, body floating mid-air, nowhere to gain leverage only flailing wildly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
Whistling arrows tearing air, Hagrid ignoring blood bursting from his hand webbing, nearly emptying the quiver in short time, each arrow’s penetrating power enough to pierce wild boar and black bear fur.
That figure waved his wand, surrounding stalled iron arrows moved, slowly turning direction, captured arrows aimed at the half-giant, shooting out.
All arrow tips lit by moonlight, Hagrid’s face also lit by cold gleam, his eye corner twitching a few times.
Hated these sneaky wizards most, if ordinary spells, maybe he could tank a few.
Half-giant ducking bending waist, hands guarding chest and head, just as Harry and Ron screamed, a whirlwind appeared from nowhere in the open space, incoming arrows swallowed by suddenly stirred snow waves.
“Hagrid, go protect the children.”
Professor McGonagall, just arrived not far away, face grim, wand tip already aimed at the dark wizard in the center.
Slytherin’s Pansy and Daphne hiding behind another thick tree, the two girls instructed by the deputy headmaster, panicked but not losing reason. Hagrid seeing this didn’t dawdle, staying would only hinder the deputy headmaster, in three two steps hid to the side.
“No matter what dark wizard you are from, in Hogwarts’ name, I command you to surrender.” Professor McGonagall raised her wand facing off against him.
The mysterious wizard silently watching this witch, slowly retreating deeper into the Forbidden Forest, Levitation Charm wrapping the mid-air unicorn.
Deep in the Forbidden Forest echoed the unicorn’s heavy breathing, its dim eyes suddenly brightening, looking toward the rear forest depths, that direction resounding with a series of hoofbeats, bowstrings taut creaking.
Three half-horse half-human creatures emerged from the woods, upper bodies draped in cold-resistant bear fur, muscles robust like marble statues, left and right brownish-red and silver horse bodies, the middle one black mane.
“It’s the patrol team’s Firenze, Bane, and Ronan…” Hagrid quietly reminded the deputy headmaster.
The three centaurs stepping steadily slowly, bows and arrows also steady slow, arrows not ordinary metal but bluish plant spikes.
The mysterious wizard this time no longer underestimating these bows and arrows, not fearing the centaurs, but worried about distraction resisting arrows, with a tricky old witch beside.
Both Voldemort and Quirinus Quirrell taught by Professor McGonagall.
When Dumbledore taught Transfiguration back then, Professor McGonagall was assistant teacher, Voldemort unwilling to interact much with Dumbledore, always seeking guidance from this assistant witch.
When Quirinus Quirrell was at school, Professor McGonagall was already Gryffindor dean, Transfiguration basics, Transfiguration duelling applications…
Spanning decades front and back, Quirinus Quirrell early on also competed in duelling tournaments, not even passing qualifiers. He’d heard rumors that multi-time duelling champion Flitwick was actually about Professor McGonagall’s level, just she uninterested in the master duelist title.
Strength unfathomable veteran professor, three troublesome centaurs, all four directions sealed, the four tacitly gradually closing in, shrinking the encirclement, no longer able to escape if not leaving now.
Quirinus Quirrell quickly waving wand, continuously flinging hexes.
Ground snow each time rolling up snow waves, swallowing the spells.
Melvin hiding behind beechwood twenty feet away, half his body peering out to watch, hands each pressing down on Hermione and Draco’s heads. Neville quietly hiding well, not making a sound.
This was veteran professor’s flexible Transfiguration application, intent falling, snow particles following Transfiguration drive, turning solid to block all spells.
Most hexes in the wizarding world, if strictly countered with corresponding counter-spells or Iron Armor Charm, troublesome to deal with, most times high-frequency clashing of different offensive spells. You good at Stupefy, I good at Repelling Charm, defense and attack the same, who casts faster, higher frequency, lagging wizard naturally exposes flaw.
Such combat rigid stiff, like street Muggle brawling swinging wild fists, only untrained wizards duel this way.
Experienced duelists use light effortless spells to counter enemy heavy attacks, waiting for opponent exhaustion. But this way prone to backfire, some wizards especially skilled in certain spells, theirs continuous, simple light spells only delay a moment, instead putting self at disadvantage.
If someone tries Repelling Charm against Voldemort’s Killing Curse, result predictable.
Same for a certain savior’s Disarming Charm.
Professor McGonagall’s way textbook level, any spell blockable by solid objects, Transfiguration making snow swallow all hexes, light effortless, no flaws.
Quirinus Quirrell in the center also realizing he was being toyed with, wand tip turning to point at the floating mid-air unicorn, angrily shouting: “Stop! If you keep approaching, I’ll kill it right now!”
Professor McGonagall’s lips tightly pressed, expression serious, stopping her steps, wand still aimed at the dark wizard.
The three centaurs stopping in place, red-maned Ronan uneasily shifting hooves, churning underfoot snow, silver-maned Firenze not relaxing vigilance, middle Bane showing angry expression, coldly shouting:
“You come to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns, did you think we’d let you leave!”
While sternly questioning, Bane already released bowstring, arrow whistling through air, momentum not as fearsome as half-giant’s arrows, but the Transfiguration professor on the side also moved, several Stupefy sealing all possible escape directions, ground snow surging like waves closing in.
Quirinus Quirrell even more annoyed inside, disregarding incoming attacks, wand in hand viciously swinging down at unicorn’s neck.
Those arrows and spells wouldn’t kill him, but this body already rotted to the brink of decay, if couldn’t drink unicorn blood tonight, even escaping encirclement, only death awaiting.
Even if he fell unconscious, Dark Lord could control his body, then with unicorn blood providing magic power, these troublesome beasts and that old witch, all dying here tonight!
Thinking this, Quirinus Quirrell’s eyes more ruthless, magic power pouring into wand, tip flickering cold light.
Despair flowed in the unicorn’s eyes.
Watching Melvin softly incanting: “Iron Armor!”
