Chapter 30
Albert was startled when he heard the voice. It was that of a grown woman—yet unfamiliar, distinct from any of the professors at Hogwarts.
Fortunately, the fact that she spoke meant she was willing to communicate. There was still hope to avoid a pointless confrontation, one that would only bring noise, attract the attention of the staff, and lead to a deduction of house points. So Albert stepped forward and spoke calmly.
"I bear no ill will, and I don't mean to harm anyone. I can leave the forest now, if you wish."
"I wanted to thank you for your kindness to the unicorns, and for helping her."
Just as the words left the speaker's mouth, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees.
"A centaur," Albert whispered under his breath.
Indeed, it was a female centaur—something that had never appeared in the original stories. But when he thought about it, it made sense. Centaurs didn't grow from the earth. There had to be females for their kind to exist and multiply.
She looked to be in her thirties, wearing finely crafted brown leather armor. A black warhammer hung from her waist. The horse half of her body was pure white, and on her flanks rested a round shield, a bow, and a quiver of arrows.
Seeing that she wasn't armed, Albert gently set aside the herbs he had gathered—a sign of peace.
The centaur approached with graceful steps, then bowed her head slightly and spoke.
"Mars is growing brighter by the day. Many take it as a terrible omen, and believe the will of the heavens is faltering. Yet I believe that sometimes, it is precisely the will of the heavens that compels us to help the innocent. That is why I ventured out today—and saw you tending to the unicorn."
"It's simply what I had to do," Albert replied, lifting his head. "After all, even the forest's creatures are known to help travelers in need."
"Yes. Tell me—what sort of creature do you think would attack a unicorn?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," Albert admitted. "But the injured unicorn had clearly lost a great deal of blood."
"I've made mistakes before," the centaur murmured, lifting her gaze. "I only hope this is another one."
She seemed lost in thought. Albert raised his voice gently.
"Ah, I should introduce myself. I'm Albert—Albert Black. First-year, Gryffindor House. I came across the unicorn during a late-night walk. It was curiosity that brought me here… and by chance, I found her injured, and did what I could to help."
"It was no chance," the centaur replied. "Unicorns do not trust humans so easily. She is my companion—I belong to a centaur tribe nearby, and I'm here to protect this herd from the darkness that encroaches."
"You mean… the healing?" Albert asked, puzzled.
"It's simple," she said. "For one, you're still a colt. Young male unicorns will tolerate your presence before they reach full maturity. And on the other hand…" She glanced toward the sky.
"I can feel deep gratitude from nature surrounding you. You've saved not one, but thousands of innocent lives. I can even sense the residual blessing from battles you've fought against unnatural, destructive beasts. This gratitude—it feels different from what I've known, yet the stars reveal truths I cannot ignore. It's no wonder she accepted healing from someone nature itself seems to embrace."
She leaned in, studying him from head to toe.
"I admit, I'm curious, little one. How did you do it? Our leader has spent his whole life fighting for nature and has never received such favor. And you… you have strange herbs assisting you—plants that seem to have been blessed."
Albert scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Well… I'm afraid I can't really say. Not right now."
The centaur nodded with solemn understanding.
"So long as it's the truth, I'll trust you. Those blessed by nature often carry secrets. I won't speak a word of what I saw."
"Thank you," Albert said softly.
"But as a student," she added, "you really shouldn't be wandering this deep into the Forbidden Forest. Especially not alone. I'll take you back."
With that, she retrieved a large woven basket from behind a tree and gently placed Albert inside it.
He quickly realized how attuned to nature centaurs truly were. Even at a swift trot, she effortlessly dodged thick branches and moved gracefully over the uneven forest floor.
"By the way," Albert said as he settled himself in the basket. "Earlier… when the unicorn lost all that blood, you mentioned a prophecy. Did I hear that right? If it's private—or related to your tribe—you can pretend I never asked."
The centaur chuckled softly.
"It's no secret. Now, let me see… Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"
"I don't," Albert replied, though that wasn't entirely true. He had read bits and pieces in old books—dark magic, forbidden rites—but he wanted to hear more.
"In Potions class, we only used unicorn hair and horn shavings. One book hinted at it, saying 'the blood of the beast is an evil thing.'"
"That's because to take it is cruel beyond measure," she said gravely. "Killing a unicorn to harvest its blood grants the most powerful magic… but it is also a vile, cursed act. Only the most wicked and desperate would do such a thing. Those who wish to defy the laws of life and extend their unnatural existence."
At this, she visibly shuddered—as if remembering something terrible.
"Even a drop of unicorn blood can save a life, so long as the person is still breathing," she continued. "But the curse that comes with it… it dooms the drinker to a half-life. They survive, yes, but only as a wretched shadow—wracked with endless pain."
"A fate worse than death," Albert murmured. "I suppose only someone truly desperate would even consider it. But… I've heard rumors. Some say the Philosopher's Stone is hidden somewhere in Hogwarts—"
Before he could finish, the centaur gently raised a finger to her lips, signaling silence.
"We know," she whispered. "Mars burns brightly once more. I'm sure you understand what that means. But please—do not speak of it. We want no part in wizard affairs, not now. And you, colt, should not trouble yourself with such matters."
They reached a path just twenty meters from the forest's edge. She lifted him from the basket and set him down.
"I'd rather not meet anyone else tonight," she said. "You can walk the rest of the way from here."
With that, she turned, flicked her tail gracefully, and disappeared back into the shadows of the forest.
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