[Note: Read up to Chapter - 185 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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"This is it… another unicorn's been done in…"
Ronan hadn't gone far before spotting the lifeless body sprawled across the forest floor.
Its coat was pure white, the single horn on its head glinting faintly in the moonlight. Silver blood trickled onto the ground, catching the starlight and shimmering strangely, almost unnaturally.
"This is the third one…" Firenze murmured, stepping up beside him. His gaze lingered on the still form, a mix of sorrow and grim resolve in his eyes.
"Ronan, did you see the creature that did this?"
"No." Ronan shook his head, his brow furrowed as he stared into the darkness beyond. "But I caught a glimpse of a shadow drifting by… didn't look human."
"Not human?" Hagrid puffed up, crossbow in hand, his voice thick with unease.
Aris, Harry, and the rest caught up just then, each of them falling silent as the dreadful sight of the dead unicorn lay before them.
"That thing's definitely not like any normal human. The way it moved… dead odd!" Ronan finally managed, his tone firm.
"Has he turned into some kind of monster?" Ronald's voice quivered. The shadow cast by You-Know-Who on young wizards ran too deep.
Ron had grown up on those grim tales. If he really had to face Voldemort, he reckoned he'd collapse on the spot. It wasn't about bravery or cowardice—more like this: in the Muggle world, if the tiger your parents once used to scare you suddenly leapt out in front of you one day, your legs would go to jelly and you'd be rooted to the spot.
"Arghhh!!!"
Just then, Harry let out a cry of agony. He clutched his scarred forehead, bending double like a prawn, sweat beading on his face.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron rushed to steady his mate.
Hermione frowned, studying him keenly. "It's his scar… looks like it's hurting. Has this happened before?"
"No… no!" Harry gritted his teeth through the pain, his voice trembling. "It's only happened a few times since I came to Hogwarts. Before that, never…"
"Clear your head!" Aris drew his wand and tapped it lightly, casting a spell on Harry.
At once, a cool sensation washed over Harry's mind, easing the burning ache in his scar.
"Th-thanks, Aris… I've got to learn that spell, or one day I might just keel over from the pain!" Harry said, still panting.
Aris shook his head faintly. "This charm only dulls it for a bit. It's not proper treatment. But since the pain only hits you now and then, maybe it'll ease off on its own."
Of course, he knew the truth. Harry Potter's lightning-bolt scar flared because of its link to Voldemort's fractured soul. The nearer he was to one of Voldemort's remnants, the sharper the agony grew.
Sometimes, even the resonance with a Horcrux was enough to trigger it.
The only real way to end it would be for Harry to master Occlumency—sealing off his mind, learning to fight back against that foul connection with sheer willpower. Only then could the boy truly free himself from it.
But clearly, the Harry Potter of today didn't yet have that skill.
For now, all he could do was rely on a charm to bolster his willpower and dull the sting.
Just then, Aris seemed to sense something. His gaze shifted into the gloom of the Forbidden Forest, sharp eyes narrowing as though he could pierce the darkness itself.
At the very same moment, a shadow deep within the trees stared back, silently watching the group.
"Bloody hell… why's that brat here as well?"
"And the Centaur tribe—weren't they always meant to stay neutral?"
"Don't tell me they're about to throw away the balance they've guarded for years…"
A voice, low and cold as if it had crawled up from the very pit of hell, muttered in the dark. It was faint—half like it was talking to itself, half like it was addressing another.
"Master, are you on about… that Shafiq?" another timid voice ventured.
"Who else, you fool?!" the first voice snapped.
"I thought you meant… Harry Potter…"
"That daft Harry Potter isn't worth my fear in the slightest. It's Shafiq… he's grown far too quickly. Even now, I can't see through his strength…"
"No… I've got to claw back more power as soon as possible. If I drag my heels any longer, there'll be bigger trouble ahead!"
The low, sinister voice faded, growing quieter and quieter, until at last the figure slithered off like a snake, vanishing into the darkness.
"He's gone."
Aris's calm voice cut through the uneasy silence of the group.
Hagrid's expression hardened, his brows knitting together. "He… he was really here just now?"
"Yeah." Aris didn't bother hiding it and nodded firmly.
"So… he's really back?" Hagrid's voice grew heavier, his face etched with worry. The others blanched, paling in fear—especially Malfoy, who gave a slight shiver at the words.
"It can't really be called a return," Aris said evenly. "He's just a ragged remnant soul, clinging on to survival. There's nothing to fear from him just yet. What we should be wary of is whatever he's plotting behind the scenes. Otherwise, he wouldn't be skulking about in Hogwarts of all places…"
Aris's eyes narrowed. "Hiding right under Dumbledore's nose isn't something he'd ever do without a reason."
"Wasn't he dead?" Ronald's face was still ashen, but he couldn't help blurting out, "Eleven years ago… when Harry was born, the curse rebounded… didn't it?"
"Yeah, that's what everyone says. He tried to kill Harry, but the spell backfired and he died instead…"
"Then why's he here now?"
That question hung in the air. It was exactly what everyone else was thinking—including Harry himself.
In fact, Harry might've been the one who wanted the answer most of all. Since his parents had been killed by Voldemort, how could he not crave revenge—if such a thing was even possible?
"That question's… a bit tricky," Aris admitted after a pause. "Even Dumbledore can't claim to fully understand the mysteries of magic."
"In some ancient, dusty tomes, there are always hints—methods that can bring the dead back in one form or another. He may have foreseen this possibility and prepared in advance."
"And unicorn blood—though cursed—can keep a weak soul hanging on, at least for a while…"
Aris's expression darkened.
"Besides, that thing isn't a complete person. It's nothing more than a fractured remnant of a soul, clinging to life by possessing others."
After hearing Aris's explanation, no one felt the slightest bit reassured—in fact, they only grew more on edge.
"Aris… you just said he's possessing someone. Who is it?" Harry asked, brows furrowed. His voice carried a mix of anger and fear.
The thought struck him hard: he might've been spending an entire school year under the same roof as his parents' killer. The idea was enough to make his blood run cold.
It wasn't just Harry. The same unease was written across everyone else's faces too, their eyes flicking nervously as the weight of the truth sank in.
"If he really is skulking about in the school, and now we know he's there… will he act straightaway? What's he actually after…?"
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Drop Power Stonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 185 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]