Chapter 45
Gray waved his hand, letting the points of light fade away as he looked into Norbert's glassy, luminous eyes.
Do you understand?
Norbert gazed back at him, intelligence shining in those crystal-clear eyes.
I understand, Mum!
Good girl.
Gray scratched under her chin, then opened his arms and gave her a hug. Norbert placed both foreclaws on his shoulders in return.
It was hard to let her go. But just like in the story of the fat dragon Fírnen, keeping Norbert hidden here forever wouldn't allow her to grow properly. What she needed was a vast, open sky where she could be truly free.
Gray patted her head once more, then led her out of Hagrid's hut. This was the first time she had ever stepped outside; until now she had been kept hidden inside to avoid being seen by other students or teachers.
Norbert sniffed the night air, a low, rumbling whine rising in her throat. Her mouth opened as though she wanted to roar.
Gray immediately reached out with both hands, gently clamping her upper and lower jaws together.
Not yet. Wait until we get there.
Norbert blinked, didn't struggle, and simply rubbed her snout against his hand again.
Guided by Gray's floating points of light, she obediently climbed into the large crate that had been prepared for her.
Harry and Hermione were already ready. They threw the Invisibility Cloak over the crate, then slipped underneath it themselves.
Gray opened his magical sight, watching the way the magic around them was pushed aside. He gave a small wave.
"Let's go, Gray. We've got a heavy night ahead of us too," Hagrid said in his rough voice, thick with emotion.
He hated to see Norbert leave. Even though she had never really liked him—always trying to pick fights—he adored her.
Fighting with Norbert had even made him feel young again, as though his body had grown lighter.
Gray nodded. From this moment on, he wouldn't form any words with light spells.
He couldn't risk using any magic at all now. They were about to enter the Forbidden Forest.
The weather was poor that night. Thick clouds covered the sky, and a strong wind howled through the trees.
Gray walked close behind Hagrid, using the half-giant's massive frame to block most of the wind.
Fang stayed right at his heels, keeping watch over their backs.
During the past few weeks, because of Norbert's draconic aura, Fang had rarely stayed near the hut; he kept wandering off.
Hagrid carried his lantern high. Its pale white light illuminated a circle about five metres around them. As they walked, he began telling Gray about the recent troubles in the forest.
"The forest hasn't been peaceful lately," Hagrid said. "Lots of magical creatures have been found dead. The centaurs and some of the other inhabitants discovered them and reported it to the school."
"But they won't say what's been killing them. The only ones who might know—the centaurs—won't just tell humans what they've seen. That's why I asked you to come tonight."
Gray understood. During one of his earlier patrols, the centaur Ronan had approached him and asked for help finding a potion ingredient called "伏荷" (something like "伏荷"—a rare herb). That time the centaurs had been noticeably friendlier toward him and had even answered some of his questions—though in their usual cryptic, starry-eyed way.
Since then Gray had kept an eye out for the herb on every patrol, but he had never spotted it. His eyes had ached from searching, yet nothing. He hadn't contacted the centaurs again.
"Wait!"
Hagrid stopped abruptly ahead of him, voice suddenly grave. He drew his pink umbrella, shifted the lantern behind his back, and passed it to Gray with his left hand.
"Here, Gray—take the lantern and come up beside me. Stay alert. Fang, watch our rear."
Hagrid's muscles tensed all over. His eyes scanned the darkness as he edged slowly toward the left.
Gray stepped forward, bringing the light with him. Only then did he see what Hagrid had noticed—and why the half-giant was so tense.
Silver-blue blood dripped from the leaves overhead. It was fresh; the drops still carried warmth. Gray could even smell it—a strangely enticing, almost sweet scent.
As far as Gray knew, in the Forbidden Forest, only one kind of creature had blood that colour.
"A unicorn!" Hagrid said in a low, heavy voice.
He scanned the area carefully. Once he was sure it was safe, he took the lantern back from Gray—but he kept his umbrella firmly in hand.
"That thing's come back tonight," Hagrid explained, even though Gray had already pieced it together. "This time it's gone after a unicorn—and it's hurt her bad."
Gray understood even more clearly than Hagrid did.
The creature hunting unicorns was Voldemort—or rather, Voldemort possessing Quirrell.
These past weeks Gray had been so focused on Norbert and mastering Incendio that he had almost forgotten about Voldemort. The Dark Lord wasn't much of a threat right now—weak, half-dead, clinging to Quirrell's body—and impossible to kill permanently anyway. So Gray had simply ignored him.
If he remembered every detail of the Harry Potter books and knew the exact locations of all the Horcruxes, he wouldn't have minded finding a way to end Voldemort early.
But his memory was strongest for the first three books. Everything after that was mostly fragments—edited clips and summaries. He knew Voldemort had Horcruxes; he remembered the diary from second year and the snake Nagini. That was about it.
To avoid making things worse by interfering, Gray had decided to stay out of Harry's main story. In the end, good would triumph over evil anyway, wouldn't it?
"Gray, we can't go to the centaurs now," Hagrid whispered, as though afraid of being overheard. "We've got to find that thing first and save the poor unicorn—if we're not too late."
Gray nodded. No objections.
Voldemort wasn't powerful at the moment. Quirrell was half-drained and barely alive. With half-giant Hagrid at his side, even if they couldn't win outright, they could hold out long enough for help to arrive—either from the castle or from the other beings in the forest.
Hagrid studied the pattern of blood on the leaves, then determined the direction the wounded unicorn had gone.
"This way," he said quietly, breaking into a careful jog.
Gray followed close behind. Fang brought up the rear.
Moving through dense forest wasn't easy—especially along paths made only by animals. Branches clawed at them, and vines tangled underfoot.
Fortunately Hagrid's huge bulk smashed a clear route ahead, so Gray didn't trip over the knotted undergrowth or low-hanging limbs.
But by the time they followed the trail of silver-blue blood to its end, they were too late.
The unicorn lay motionless on the ground.
It was already dead.
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