Chapter 95. Forbidden Forest at Night: Devil's Snare and Centaurs
Time swiftly passed into April.
During this period, Adrian Wesson continued to monitor Quirinus Quirrell's behavior.
Although he had concluded that Lord Voldemort had entirely taken over Quirrell's body, when he had the Tree of Wisdom analyze Quirrell, it still yielded information solely about Quirrell.
This left Wesson somewhat puzzled.
Could Voldemort have found a way to evade the Tree of Wisdom's analysis?
Or was his assumption incorrect?
Additionally, Albus Dumbledore had not made any notable moves concerning Quirrell.
Everything appeared so calm.
Oh, and one more thing: Wesson had a new assignment—helping Rubeus Hagrid patrol the Forbidden Forest every night.
Lately, Hagrid had sensed something unusual in the Forbidden Forest, as if some creature was roaming about.
The centaurs had also informed him of an unknown intruder recently, urging Hagrid to be extra vigilant.
So, Hagrid asked his good friend Wesson for assistance.
Wesson, of course, readily agreed.
On a night at the end of April—
The Forbidden Forest was shrouded in hazy moonlight.
Wesson and Hagrid were making their usual rounds in the forest.
Tendrils of the Devil's Snare peeked out from under Wesson's robes to play about.
One vine even accidentally stretched out under Hagrid's foot.
"Hey, Wesson, mind your little fellow," Hagrid said, holding up a lantern. "It nearly tripped me."
"Oh, sorry."
Wesson tapped the tendril lightly with his toe, and the Devil's Snare withdrew under his robes.
However, it still wouldn't behave, and even fished out the spare wand Wesson kept hidden under his robes to toy with it.
"How many times have I said this," Wesson looked at the Devil's Snare and said, "plants can't use magic… wait, what did you just do!?"
Under Wesson's astonished gaze, the tendrils clumsily coiled around the wand; the tip suddenly flared with a dazzling white light that illuminated the surroundings.
It was the Wand-Lighting Charm!
And nonverbal casting, at that!
Oh—well, that's rubbish to point out; the Devil's Snare can't speak anyway.
Sensing its master's astonishment, the Devil's Snare wriggled its tendrils smugly; the glowing orb bobbed up and down with its movements.
"Good charmwork, Wesson," Hagrid said, shielding his eyes. "But we don't need light this bright. If there are intruders, they'll spot us straightaway."
Hagrid apparently thought Wesson had cast the charm.
Hearing Hagrid's words, the Devil's Snare gave the wand a little wave, and the brightness gradually faded.
However, an accident occurred.
A wisp of bluish smoke curled from the wand tip, and a charred crack appeared along it.
The Devil's Snare seemed startled as well; the tendrils jerked open, and the wand fell with a soft plop into the pile of fallen leaves.
Seeing this, Wesson hurriedly bent to pick up the wand and discovered the upper half was completely ruined, with the unicorn hair core even exposed.
"Something the matter?" Hagrid turned his head and asked.
"It's nothing," Wesson waved a hand, then tucked the wand back into his robes.
"That's good," Hagrid faced forward again. "Same as always tonight—I'll go ahead, you follow me."
"All right."
Wesson replied, then glanced at the Devil's Snare.
Its tendrils drooped listlessly, curling at Wesson's cuff like a child who'd done wrong.
A few slender tips tentatively poked out, gently winding around Wesson's fingers and giving a little shake, as if to make amends.
"Very well, I'm not cross with you," Wesson soothed it. "Don't worry, child. We'll go to Diagon Alley at the weekend and pick out a wand that suits you."
The Devil's Snare perked up at once, affectionately nuzzled Wesson's wrist, and slipped back into his body.
Wesson could clearly feel its excitement.
This little terror…
"Rustle."
Just then, a sound came from the bushes ahead.
Hagrid immediately raised his lantern and aimed it toward the source of the noise.
"Who's there!"
Hagrid's deep voice echoed over the Forbidden Forest.
As the shadows of the trees swayed, a tall figure slowly stepped out.
It was a centaur, with dark-red hair and beard; his lower half was the reddish-brown body of a horse,
trailing a long red tail.
"It's you, Ronan," Hagrid lowered the lantern and let out a breath.
The centaur named Ronan did not reply at once. His nostrils flared slightly, as if sniffing the scents in the air,
and his wary gaze swept the surroundings.
After a moment, Ronan looked impassively at Hagrid. "Good evening, Hagrid."
Wesson had seen centaurs back when he was a student, but only seen them; he had never interacted with them.
After all, apart from Hagrid, centaurs scarcely approached anyone.
"Are you centaurs patrolling as well?" Hagrid asked, puzzled. "This doesn't seem to be your territory."
"The entire Forbidden Forest is within our patrol," Ronan's low voice rumbled like thunder. "Darkness spreads within the forest; the paths of the stars have grown chaotic. We have observed inauspicious signs."
"Thanks for the warning, Ronan."
Hagrid nodded, then leaned to Wesson's ear and explained quietly, "Centaurs never say anything plainly, but what he means is there've been anomalies in the forest lately—likely something from outside."
"I can roughly follow," Wesson said.
Just then, another centaur stepped out from the brush, this one with blue eyes and pale-gold hair.
When he came up to the two of them—
Even Wesson could tell this was a very handsome centaur.
"Good evening, Firenze."
"And to you, Hagrid."
The handsome centaur replied gently, then looked to Wesson at his side. "Hello, sir."
Wesson extended his hand. "Hello, Firenze. I'm Adrian Wesson, a professor at Hogwarts."
Firenze hesitated for a moment, but in the end he shook hands with Wesson.
Seeing this, Ronan snorted disdainfully; his red-brown tail lashed irritably.
"Firenze, you're consorting with humans again," he said, clear reproach in his voice. "Have the stars not told you that such dealings stain our wisdom?"
"Pay it no mind," Hagrid said at once to reassure Wesson. "Centaurs are like that."
Wesson shrugged, as if to say what was there to mind—he'd long heard centaurs were averse to humans.
In truth, Firenze's willingness to offer him a friendly handshake had already gone beyond his expectations.
"Haven't you looked at tonight's stars, Ronan?" Firenze shook his head, then turned to the reddish-brown centaur. "He is special."
Special?
Hearing Firenze's words, Ronan lifted his head to glance at the sky, then lowered it to look Wesson over.
At last, Ronan slowly came to stand before Wesson.
"You are not the brightest star, but not a poor one. I apologise for what I said earlier," he said in a melancholy, unhurried tone.
"Er… thank you?"
Though Wesson felt a bit at a loss, this centaur named Ronan ought to be praising him.
Ronan nodded, then said to Hagrid, "Farewell, Hagrid. We must continue our patrol."
With that, the two centaurs vanished into the dark woods.
Afterwards, Hagrid and Wesson continued their rounds as well.
Like this story Leave a review ; it would really help me out a lot.
Want to Read Ahead in Advance?
Join my Patreon!
+75 Chapters
Support me in
Patreon.com/BestElysium