Chapter 105. Handling the Philosopher's Stone and the Unicorn's Funeral
"Gone?"
Dumbledore paused, raising his eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"
Professor Adrian Wesson had no choice but to explain. "During my battle with Lord Voldemort, the Philosopher's Stone was accidentally destroyed."
Even so, Dumbledore still looked sceptical.
"It is no simple matter to destroy the Philosopher's Stone," he said. "That would require very powerful magic."
Wesson managed an awkward smile.
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore sighed softly and said, "I believe you are not lying to me, Professor Wesson. However, the Stone does not belong to me. You know it is Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone. I'm afraid you will need to explain this to him yourself."
Wesson let out a quiet breath of relief. He had been worried Dumbledore would keep pressing.
He could hardly say that one of his trees had absorbed the Philosopher's Stone.
"All right," Wesson said. "I will."
"Very good." Dumbledore nodded, satisfied.
"Ah, one more thing!" Just as Wesson was about to leave, Dumbledore called him back. "About the upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons…"
Night was deep; Hogwarts Castle lay under a veil of stillness.
Most students and professors had no idea what had happened this evening.
In a little while, dawn would break.
After leaving the office, Wesson walked the path toward Hagrid's hut. He had to see how Hagrid was doing.
Quirinus Quirrell had already turned to ash; the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had, as a matter of course, become vacant.
Just now, he had accepted the task of serving as acting Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Worse still, there seemed to be a first-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class tomorrow, and he had no time at all to prepare.
Ugh—what a mess…
Muttering to himself, Wesson arrived at Hagrid's hut.
Fluffy's body had been laid on the open ground in front of the hut. His three heads drooped limply; the once fierce eyes had lost all trace of life.
Hagrid knelt at Fluffy's side, his huge frame hunched, shoulders shaking as though he were sobbing.
Wesson walked over and patted his shoulder.
Fluffy was, in all likelihood, beyond saving; the Killing Curse was deadly enough, and this one had been cast by Voldemort himself.
Wesson rested his hand gently on Hagrid's shoulder. "My condolences, Hagrid…"
Hagrid lifted his head and said in a low, overcast voice, "So yeh're here, Wesson."
"Fluffy was a good dog in life. He never hurt anyone… Why did this have to happen…"
Hagrid wiped away his tears, shook his head, and went on, "I'll keep watch over Fluffy here. Wesson, could yeh help me bring the unicorn out of the Forest? We can't leave it lyin' there."
Wesson nodded.
Indeed, the unicorn's body would attract all sorts of creatures in the Forbidden Forest.
Wesson turned and headed into the depths of the Forest.
The sun was almost up; the Forest loomed in the dim morning mist.
Treading over dew-soaked grass, Wesson soon reached the place where the unicorn lay.
That reddish-brown figure was still there.
"Ronan?"
Wesson spoke in surprise.
Ronan snorted softly, looked at Wesson, and said slowly, "I am here to see this beautiful life on its way."
Wesson moved a few steps closer and saw that the unicorn's body had been carefully tended: the silver mane combed smooth, the blood around it cleaned away—no doubt Ronan's doing.
"Centaurs respect all pure life," Ronan's voice echoed through the trees. "Even if the stars foretold it, its passing is a tragedy that should not have come to pass."
"I'm here at Hagrid's request to take her away," Wesson said quietly. "We'll see she's properly buried."
"I do not trust you humans," Ronan paused, staring straight at Wesson. "But this time is an exception. You—"
The words cut off.
Wesson raised an eyebrow, waiting for the centaur to continue.
However, Ronan said no more. He stepped aside from the unicorn's body and said, "Remember to bury her within the area where unicorns roam."
Wesson nodded. Tendrils of Devil's Snare slid out from beneath his robes, weaving and twining in the air; in the blink of an eye they formed the shape of a stretcher.
The Devil's Snare lifted the unicorn's body with ease.
Before Wesson left, Ronan gazed at the brightening sky and gave him one last warning. "The stars bid me remind you: you can no longer extricate yourself. Shadows are closing over you. Be careful."
Wesson did not know what Ronan had read in the stars, but he knew that centaurs studied prophecy in great depth.
Ronan's final words must carry some weight.
Unfortunately, centaurs did not speak plainly; their words were always veiled and allusive.
What it truly meant would be up to Wesson to guess.
Still, thanks to Ronan's warning, he had known Voldemort would act at this time.
Ronan might look a little cold, but, unexpectedly, he was a good sort.
No—an admirable horse.
Wesson brought the unicorn back to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid had already covered Fluffy with a white cloth.
"Come on, let's lay this poor unicorn to rest in the Forest," Hagrid said, drained of strength.
Wesson nodded.
Hagrid knew the area where the unicorns lived like the back of his hand.
After winding their way along, they came to a meadow.
This was a hidden glade at the heart of the Forbidden Forest, and the place where unicorns usually gathered.
In the centre of the clearing lay a spring; under the light of morning, the water's surface glimmered with a pearly sheen.
Wesson noticed fresh hoofprints pressed into the damp earth at the spring's edge. It seemed a unicorn had been here not long ago.
"The unicorns often come here to drink," Hagrid said hoarsely. "We'll bury her nearby."
The Devil's Snare gently set the dead unicorn upon the smoothest patch of grass by the spring, then slowly withdrew beneath Wesson's robes.
Hagrid knelt and stroked the unicorn's mane with one great hand. "Such a beautiful lass… I recognise that white mark on her brow. She had a foal just last spring…"
Wesson stood beside him in silence.
"We'll need to dig a—" Hagrid hadn't finished before Wesson flicked his wand.
A soft light flashed at the wand tip; the earth beside the spring parted of its own accord, forming a neat, rectangular grave.
"That'll do," Hagrid said, and then added, "Only when a unicorn dies of old age do we take the horn and tail hair. If it dies by mishap, we have to make sure the body is whole when it's buried."
"Why is that?"
"You'll take on a curse from the unicorn."
"Like drinking unicorn blood?"
"No," Hagrid shook his head. "A bit better than that—but you'll have bad luck for a long while."
It was the first time Wesson had heard of such a thing.
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