"Let's head back."
Hagrid slung the crossbow over his shoulder and said to Harry, "It's getting late, and you've got class tomorrow—if I'm not mistaken, it's Professor Snape's Potions class first thing in the morning. You wouldn't want to be late for that, would you?"
Even Hagrid had heard of Professor Snape's formidable reputation at Hogwarts.
"Alright," Harry replied, following Hagrid as they made their way out of the Forbidden Forest.
Before long, they encountered a centaur.
Harry noticed that this centaur was strikingly handsome, with platinum blonde hair reminiscent of Draco's and a sleek, silver equine body. He looked every bit the white knight from countless fairytales.
"Hagrid," the centaur approached them anxiously. "The unicorn—how is she? And the dark wizard?"
"Don't worry, Firenze," Hagrid said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "Miss Poppy is alright. Harry saved her, and the dark wizard was driven off… although Miss Poppy still has some injuries."
"That's good to hear…" Firenze exhaled in relief, then turned to Harry with a warm smile.
"Harry, is it? Thank you. Thank you for saving Miss Poppy."
"I only did what I should," Harry said modestly.
"You're the boy from the Potter family, aren't you?" Firenze asked, his sapphire-blue eyes sparkling.
Before Harry could answer, another voice interrupted.
"What are you telling him!"
Bane galloped over, his tone furious. "Remember, Firenze, we swore never to defy the heavens! Have you forgotten what the movement of the planets foretells?"
"I believe Firenze acted out of goodwill," Ronan said uneasily, pawing at the ground with his hooves. His mournful voice carried a sense of foreboding.
"Goodwill?" Bane snapped, glaring at Ronan. "What does that have to do with us? Centaurs concern themselves with the prophecies of the stars! We don't need to act like donkeys, running after lost humans in our forest!"
"Miss Poppy was injured! She's so kind! And that dark wizard… that dark wizard dared to attack her! Tell me, Bane," Firenze suddenly reared up on his hind legs, "when you were surrounded by Acromantulas as a foal, who saved you?"
"The secrets of the stars? Is that all you care about?" Firenze's voice quivered with rage, his hair lifting as if charged with electricity. "I will resist that person with all my might! I will not let him harm Miss Poppy again! Bane, centaurs are not an ungrateful race! If necessary, I will stand with the humans!"
Without sparing Bane or Ronan another glance, Firenze turned and signaled for Hagrid and Harry to follow him.
"Why was Bane so angry?" Harry asked, confused.
Firenze sighed, avoiding the question. Instead, he asked, "Harry, can you tell me what happened?"
Harry left out the excruciating details and his conversation with Miss Poppy, recounting only the first part of the events.
"Harry…" Firenze suddenly stopped.
Hagrid and Harry, unsure of his intentions, halted as well.
"Do you know what unicorn blood can do?" Firenze asked.
"No," Harry answered truthfully.
"That's because harming or killing a unicorn is a monstrous act," Firenze said gravely. "Only someone utterly desperate, someone willing to lose everything to gain everything, would commit such an unforgivable sin. Unicorn blood can sustain life, even when one is on the brink of death. But the price is terrible. By taking the life of such a pure, innocent creature, the moment its blood touches your lips, your existence becomes cursed. You will live a half-life, a cursed life."
Harry thought for a moment and said, "If I had to live cursed forever, I think I'd rather die."
"Exactly," Firenze agreed. "Unless… you only use it to extend your life long enough to obtain something else—something that can fully restore your strength and power, something that grants immortality. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in this school right now?"
In an instant, Harry realized the shadow's target.
"The Philosopher's Stone!" he exclaimed. "Are you saying… the one trying to steal the stone is…"
His heart pounded in his chest as he neared the truth.
Some said that person was dead—defeated by him when he was just a baby. But could such a powerful dark wizard truly die so easily?
Firenze's words made Harry's breathing quicken.
It seemed there could only be one truth.
The taste of revenge… is it sweet?
"It appears you've realized it," Firenze said. "Someone has waited in the shadows all these years, longing to rise again. Someone clings desperately to life, waiting for their chance."
Firenze seemed pleased with Harry's quick comprehension.
This child… perhaps he should study divination, Firenze thought.
"Impossible!" Hagrid interjected. "The Philosopher's Stone is protected by Professor Dumbledore. As long as he's here at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord won't succeed!"
Firenze didn't respond. He merely gave Hagrid a look of ineffable complexity.
"The stars… they have foretold it," Firenze murmured to Harry. "Trust in centaur astrology. We rarely err."
"But you're wrong this time!" Hagrid grumbled, clearly displeased with Firenze's perceived slight against Dumbledore.
Soon, the edge of the Forbidden Forest came into view.
"Well then, we part ways here," Firenze said to them.
Hagrid waved at Firenze. "Goodbye. Thanks for the warning—though I'll still talk to Professor Dumbledore."
"Let's go, Harry. We'll head back together," Hagrid said, glancing up at the sky. "Looks like it's about to rain. Let's get back to the castle."
As Harry and Hagrid entered the castle, a spring thunderclap echoed across the sky.
In the dense forest, a pristine unicorn flitted through the trees, as graceful as a woodland spirit.
The rain fell softly, passing through the thick canopy and landing on her white coat.
She reached a stream, lying down gently beneath an evergreen pine tree, seeking shelter.
The cold wind swept through the forest, mingling with the sound of rain, and the occasional cries of animals added a note of melancholy to the scene.
A pale white light shimmered over the unicorn. In a moment, she transformed into a young girl wearing a Hufflepuff robe, her short hair falling lightly over her shoulders.
But her body was translucent.
Poppy leaned against the pine tree, sitting weakly on the ground. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob quietly.
Silvery ghostly tears slipped through her fingers, falling onto the dark soil below.
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