In the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore stood quietly amidst the ruins. His face was expressionless, a terrifying calm that seemed to chill the air.
"Dumbledore..." Snape approached him, speaking in a low tone. "The students have all returned to the castle. No one was hurt."
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore replied.
Snape's eyes flashed with frustration. "What on earth happened here?"
"Apparently, someone was trying to use Unicorn blood to extend their life..." Dumbledore bent down, looking at the dying Unicorn at his feet. "If Hagrid hadn't found the other one in time, it would probably be dead as well."
"Yes, and now that big oaf is the one nearly dead," Snape sneered, disdain filling his voice. "Was it really worth it... for just a beast?"
Dumbledore's gaze softened, though his voice held firm. "Everyone has their convictions, Severus, and those convictions are not so easily measured by worthiness. Just as when you did it... for Lily."
"Dumbledore!" Snape's voice rose in fury. "Don't you ever mention that name again!"
He took a deep breath, struggling to regain his composure. After a long pause, he continued in a hard tone, "Do you know who it was that attacked Hagrid?"
"I believe so."
Dumbledore stepped forward, approaching a charred patch of earth. He bent down and ran his hand over the blackened ground.
"Fiendfyre... such troublesome dark magic. If it had spread, I fear we might have lost the entire Forbidden Forest."
He straightened and walked a few paces to the side, where two Centaurs lay motionless, surrounded by chaotic footprints.
"The Killing Curse..." Dumbledore murmured. "Their quivers are half-empty; it seems they weren't killed by the curse immediately. Whoever did this is very weak. Unicorn blood may prolong his life, but it cannot restore his strength."
With each revelation, Snape's face grew darker.
"You said before... he doesn't dare kill anymore."
"Fear and inability are two very different things," Dumbledore replied calmly. "It doesn't matter how many Centaurs die; it won't affect Hogwarts, nor will Hagrid's fate. He knows the parents and Governors don't care about them. As long as no students die, Hogwarts won't close, and he still has a chance at the Philosopher's Stone."
"That's just your speculation," Snape said coldly.
Dumbledore nodded. "You're right. None of us truly know his thoughts, which is why I've decided to temporarily halt the Quidditch matches."
A tense silence fell between them, and then Snape, grasping at a slim hope, asked, "What if it was Oren who returned? He, too, can cast Fiendfyre and the Killing Curse."
"From what I know, he's hiding in the North, avoiding the Aurors. He won't be back anytime soon. And if it were him, Hagrid would likely not have left the Forbidden Forest alive."
Silence settled over them again until the muffled sound of hooves echoed from the distance.
"Keep an eye on him for me, will you? You know who I mean..." Dumbledore said softly.
Snape didn't respond. Without a word, he turned and left.
The sound of hooves grew closer, and soon, a group of powerful Centaurs, armed with bows and arrows, appeared around Dumbledore, their expressions fierce and watchful.
"Don't move!"
"...Mr. Dumbledore?" The lead centaur quickly signaled the others to lower their weapons upon recognizing him. He approached, asking, "Why are you here, and what on earth is going on...?"
"As you can see, Magorian," Dumbledore replied, "someone attempted to kill a Unicorn, and Hagrid, along with two of your Centaurs, were caught in the crossfire."
Only then did Magorian notice the two fallen Centaurs lying nearby.
Suddenly, the sound of hooves surrounded them as more Centaurs arrived. Magorian approached the fallen with a choked voice. "Druji... Lyra... they were both brave warriors."
"Ronan, Firenze," he continued, "take them back to the tribe. I think they would want to rest where the irises bloom."
The two Centaurs solemnly lifted their fallen comrades and left.
When Magorian looked back at Dumbledore, his demeanor had steadied, and he spoke calmly. "Dumbledore, Mars has been burning brightly—very brightly. Be prepared. This is only the beginning, and it is far from over."
Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Thank you for the warning, Magorian."
"I only wish to see no more Centaurs lost in this tragic way." Magorian paused. "Good luck to you, Mr. Dumbledore, and... Mr. Scamander."
With that, he and the other Centaurs retreated into the forest.
Dumbledore remained still, tilting his head slightly toward the injured Unicorn. An elderly figure had appeared there at some point, gently stroking the Unicorn's bruised body. A Phoenix perched on his shoulder.
"How is she?" Dumbledore asked.
"Not well," Newt replied, looking up with concern. "She's lost a significant amount of blood, and dark magic has left her terribly weakened. But fortunately, we found her in time—her life isn't in danger."
"That's a relief," Dumbledore said. "She protected Hagrid from two deadly curses. If she hadn't made it, I don't know how I would've broken the news to him."
"No," Newt murmured, carefully feeding the Unicorn a potion and applying another to her wounds. Under his calming influence, the once-terrified Unicorn gradually relaxed and fell asleep. Only then did Newt take out a suitcase and carefully place her inside.
After they left the Forbidden Forest, the two returned to the Headmaster's Office.
"Thank you for coming all the way here," Dumbledore said, half-jokingly, as he poured Newt a cup of black tea. "I really couldn't bear the thought of leaving the Unicorns in Professor Kettleburn's care again—Hogwarts might need two new professors by next year."
Newt chuckled, recalling how Professor Kettleburn had been gored by a Unicorn the previous year. That professor could indeed be somewhat reckless.
"Oh, and one more thing." Dumbledore's gaze lingered on the suitcase in Newt's hands. "Did you happen to give Kyle a suitcase like that?"
"Puff..." Newt sputtered, accidentally spitting out his tea. True to his reputation, Dumbledore, the greatest white wizard, dodged in an instant—his long beard remaining unscathed. But Fawkes, perched behind him, was less fortunate. The entire splash of tea drenched him.
"Don't get excited; I was merely asking," Dumbledore said with a wink. "I've been wondering about it since Halloween, but none of us have seen Kyle carrying a case around."
"Well... maybe... he left it behind..." Newt muttered, barely audible.
Luckily, someone—well, some bird—came to his rescue. Fawkes, after a moment of bewilderment, shook himself dry, then, indignant, began pecking at Dumbledore's beard.
"Hey, Fawkes, Newt's the one who sprayed the tea..." Dumbledore protested, clearly not eager to take the blame.
But Fawkes ignored him, focused solely on Dumbledore, who had failed to shield him from the tea. And Fawkes showed no mercy, snapping at tufts of silver-white beard with every peck.
Dumbledore clutched his beard in pain, his voice betraying his discomfort. Taking advantage of the commotion, Newt quietly picked up his case and slipped out of the office unnoticed.