As our story last left off, Hagrid had agreed to let Harry practice his saber in the Forbidden Forest, and even offered the fledgling dragon, Norbert, as his protector.
When Ron and Hermione heard this, they both clamored to go along. Hagrid, unable to refuse them, finally nodded, though his intention shifted from protecting Harry to protecting Ron and Hermione.
After the three left the hut, Hermione asked in confusion, "Harry, why did you tell Hagrid we planned to go to the Forbidden Forest?"
Harry clasped his hands and bowed. "Reporting to you, Big Sister, it was not that this little brother betrayed you. But the Forbidden Forest is a wicked place, and I feared for your safety, so I revealed the plan. This way, Brother Hagrid and Norbert can be with me to ensure you both are protected."
Though his words were sincere, Ron was unconvinced. He opened his mouth to argue, but not a single word came out.
It seemed… perhaps… Harry was right.
He and Hermione only knew a few everyday spells. They really couldn't be of much help to Harry. No, Hermione was brilliant; she could help. So the useless one… was just me?
A storm surged in Ron's heart. He clenched his fists so tightly that five purple grooves appeared in his palms. He bit his lip until his teeth ground together, hating only that he could not sprout eight arms to sweep through the Forest and aid his friend.
That night, the three of them, cloaked in invisibility, went to Hagrid's hut. They all packed their bags, brought their wands and weapons, and, leading Norbert, headed straight for the Forbidden Forest.
But this "night exploration to practice the saber" was a lie; the true purpose was to find the Philosopher's Stone. Harry used it as an excuse to have Hagrid and Norbert guard Hermione and Ron, while he slipped away on his own.
This went on for dozens of days. Locations on the map of the Forbidden Forest were crossed out one by one, yet there was not the slightest trace of the Philosopher's Stone, leaving Harry and the others completely baffled.
As the verse goes:
The castle searched, no shadow found,
The forest overturned, but all in vain.
The scarred-face lad seeks all around,
The Stone lies hidden in mist and rain.
On this night, the three emerged from the Invisibility Cloak and headed again toward Hagrid's hut. Hermione fretted, "Where on earth is the Philosopher's Stone? We've almost turned the whole forest upside down."
Ron said, "Maybe your deduction was wrong? Perhaps the Stone was hidden in the Black Lake."
"Oh, my reasoning is never wrong. Hagrid never mentioned any deep-water magical creatures to that stranger."
Harry also complained, "The mosquitoes in that Forest are too vicious! A single bite itches this one to death. If we don't find it soon, I'm not going back to be their blood-meal."
The three chatted idly as they reached Hagrid's hut, and as usual, they split up.
Harry, carrying his saber, walked alone, checking the map Hermione had hand-drawn. He turned left down a narrow, winding path.
After walking for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, he suddenly saw the bracer on his wrist glowing faintly. His heart jumped. He quickly covered the bracer with his robe, drew his wand, and threw himself flat into a haystack.
He knew Flitwick had warned him that if he encountered danger, the charm would light up. Now that the bracer was glowing, how could Harry not know that something amiss was nearby?
He looked all around and suddenly saw something lying on the ground in the distance, a pool of silver liquid spreading beneath it.
Harry's heart tightened. Heavens! Is that a unicorn?
He had used unicorn horn and tail hair in Potions class and knew it was a rare and magical creature.
Though its body was a treasure trove, no one dared to harm it, for the unicorn was noble and pure, surrounded by an aura of good fortune.
For such an auspicious beast to be lying dead, he wondered what manner of brigand had done this.
As Harry pondered, he heard a rustling sound from a pile of messy grass in the distance. Suddenly, a black-robed figure emerged, stooped down, and began to drink the unicorn's blood.
Seeing this, Harry thought: This thief, hiding his head and tail, not showing his face... could it be the stranger from Hogsmeade? This one must capture this scoundrel and interrogate him properly.
He pushed himself up and stalked forward. But the black-robed figure seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He suddenly whipped around, raised his wand, and bellowed:
"Fiendfyre!"
This was the Cursed Fire. With just one shout, a serpent of crimson flame erupted from the wand.
The fire-snake surged forward, and Harry rolled on the ground to dodge it. But he hadn't expected the fire-snake to be sentient; it twisted its body and lunged at him again.
Harry was shocked. What a tracking curse!
As the saying goes: With two sabers, watch the feet; with one saber, watch the hand. The fire-snake attacked like a swift arrow, but Harry was as steady as Mount Tai. With a sharp cry, he drew his saber and brought it down in a "mountain-splitting" chop.
"Hah!"
The saber blade, wrapped in the night wind, cleaved down. In an instant, the fire-snake was dispersed into nothing.
The black-robed man did not know that this saber was a magical weapon, naturally resistant to certain spells. Seeing Harry cut the fire, he shrieked in terror, "How is that possible?!"
Harry ignored him. He pointed his wand at a sharp-edged stone, uttered an incantation, and cast a levitation charm.
The stone, receiving the command, floated up. Harry flicked his wand, and the stone shot straight toward the black-robed man.
The black-robed man twisted to avoid the stone, only to see Harry charging, saber in hand, wreathed in killing intent. The man flicked his wand, and its tip sprayed a myriad of lights—hair-growing charms, hardening jinxes, swelling solutions... useful or not, he cast them all.
Dozens of spells shot out, lighting up the dark forest. The black-robed man merely pointed his wand, cast a shield charm (Protego), and all the spells vanished as if they were mud cows dropped into the sea, having no effect at all.
Seeing this scoundrel block all his spells with one, Harry cursed inwardly, hating that this blasted school taught nothing but flowery, useless tricks instead of real skills.
The black-robed man blocked the spells and roared again, "Avada Kedavra!"
Although Harry didn't know what spell this was, he knew it must be formidable. Seeing the wand raise, he didn't hesitate. He bent his waist and lunged forward.
This lunge was not only to avoid the spell but also to close the distance. He swung his arm like a full moon, the saber tracing a horizontal arc. The blade sang in the wind. With a sharp crack, a flash of cold light, the scoundrel's left ankle was severed clean!
The saber was so sharp, nothing could impede its blade. The black-robed man only felt a chill on his ankle, as if he'd been struck by an icicle. When he looked down, he saw his foot and leg were separated, blood pouring out like a waterfall.
"Eeaargh!!!"
At that exact moment, the neighing of a horse echoed from the distance. The black-robed man reacted as if facing a great enemy. He flicked his wand, spraying a cloud of thick fog.
When the fog cleared, the scoundrel had already grabbed his severed foot and fled, leaving no trace behind.
The neighing drew closer. Harry focused his eyes and saw the newcomer was half-man, half-horse, bare-chested, with platinum-blond hair.
"Are you all right?" The centaur bent down to pull Harry up. Seeing his forehead, he cried out in surprise, "Oh, you're the Potter boy."
"I won't change my name whether I'm walking or sitting. It is I!" Harry performed a martial salute. "If not for this hero's timely arrival, I fear this one would have had to risk half his life to battle that scoundrel."
"Please accept my bow!"
And so it was that they met in the forest, where the unicorn's blood flowed. A killing curse startled the night, and the scarred-face lad severed an ankle. A centaur's cry pierced the darkness, like a rooster's crow at dawn. If you wish to know what happened next, you must listen to the next chapter.
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