Malfoy didn't immediately reveal the news that Hagrid was raising a dragon. Instead, he waited, letting the dragon grow day by day until it could no longer be hidden—a process that didn't take long.
Hagrid's dragon grew larger and more ferocious with each passing day. A Weasley prankster was bitten and sent to the hospital. Fortunately, the dragon only bit his finger, not elsewhere.
This made Malfoy slightly regretful. A bite somewhere more significant would have been better. Still, he was pleased that events were unfolding according to his plan, and he didn't even feel like informing Harry.
Soon, however, he had to accelerate his plans, because Harry and the others could no longer tolerate the terrifying dragon—they wanted it gone. Malfoy was eager to confront Harry and hear them squirm.
Something had to go wrong. He recalled the series of unfortunate events that followed and informed Filch that Harry and the others had gone to the tower late at night to deal with the dragon. Just like last time, he set a trap, challenged Harry to a duel, and told Filch exactly what happened.
This time, to prevent Harry from escaping Filch's capture as he had before, Malfoy decided to act personally.
Things, however, went completely contrary to his expectations. He should have caught Harry and Hermione and seized the dragon. That way, he could have expelled Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione from the school. Harry might not have been so easily removed, but Malfoy didn't care.
But what actually happened? It was absurd—unbelievable. When he reached the tower, he was caught on the spot by Professor McGonagall. How could she be there? It was already midnight; she shouldn't have been there at all.
Not only did McGonagall refuse to listen to his explanations, she docked twenty points from Slytherin and imprisoned him. The old lady had clearly been waiting for a chance to get back at him, as she had already docked many points from Gryffindor.
Malfoy had been caught by McGonagall. He missed the chance to capture Harry Potter. The useless Filch had allowed Harry to escape once again—what a disaster.
But it got even worse—he was confined.
No, worse than confinement—he was sentenced to night patrols in the Forbidden Forest.
How dare they? How could they? How could they send the heir of the Malfoy family into a forest filled with werewolves and wild beasts at night?
At that moment, Malfoy finally remembered what was happening. "These wretches want to kill me. They must have planned to have me die in the forest. I will not fall for their trap."
Memories of the past came flooding back—Hagrid, Professor McGonagall.
They surely knew the Forbidden Forest was home to terrifying creatures—creatures that had already killed several unicorns. Yet McGonagall sent him on patrol at this precise moment, effectively planning for him to be killed by whatever emerged from the forest that morning.
They almost succeeded. Malfoy finally remembered why he had been running and what he was running from. He swore that the creature he saw was terrifying, unlike anything he had ever witnessed before.
In the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid had sent him out under the pretense of investigating unicorns, leaving only a useless hunting dog. He had to follow the dog carefully, nearly getting himself killed by the clumsy beast.
Even now, recalling it sent chills down his spine, and visions of that cold, desolate, horrifying place flashed through his mind.
Under the moonlight, a white figure gleamed—a powerful magical creature: a unicorn. Among all magical creatures, unicorns were extremely strong, nearly impossible to capture. Yet this beautiful and mighty being lay on the ground like rotting flesh.
It was dead. No matter how strong it had been in life, no matter how fast it had moved like the wind, or how its horn could pierce lightning—now it had fallen into the hands of an even more terrifying monster. The creature was cloaked in black robes like shadows, its hood like a black hole. It bent over the unicorn's side wound, drinking its blood.
In his memory, all Malfoy knew was that he had to keep running—faster, further, as far away as possible from that horrific monster. He would not, as his enemies expected, be silently killed or quietly perish in the Forbidden Forest. He would never allow it.
Malfoy ran without pause, mindless as a zombie, until the last moment he closed his eyes.
George had advised everyone to focus on their exams, to patiently wait for the right opportunity, and for Snape to reveal his weaknesses—but waiting was not as easy as it sounded.
Malfoy had bad luck this time, yet even though Harry and Ron hated him, they couldn't take joy in his misfortune.
Days passed, and they nearly forgot about Malfoy's imprisonment—but soon, they all found out.
Malfoy had been assigned night patrols in the Forbidden Forest. During that time, a terrifying vampire-like creature appeared, killing several powerful unicorns. That night, the monster reappeared, and Malfoy narrowly escaped with his life.
"I checked. Unicorns are special magical creatures. Because of their purity and goodness, they are protected by powerful magic," Hermione said, carefully scanning everyone's faces before sharing what she had learned from books.
"Their blood can extend life—even for the dying, their blood contains potent magic. But no one uses it lightly. Slaughtering such a pure creature and drinking its blood curses the person from the start, turning them into someone accursed." Hermione frowned. Information about unicorns was easy to find, but who—or what—that monster truly was remained a mystery.
Malfoy woke up in the hospital. He seemed calm, not shouting. It was unsettling. He claimed the monster was a terrifying dark wizard. Ron went to see him, initially hoping to gloat, but Malfoy's demeanor left him displeased.
"At this moment, there's a half-dead, cursed person in the forest, and the school holds a Philosopher's Stone that can revive the near-dead," Harry said coldly, feeling the scar on his forehead burning. He still had a scar—it made him even more fearful.
"Voldemort is not about to return—he has already returned. He's hiding in the Forbidden Forest, and only Snape could steal the Philosopher's Stone." Harry felt his scar burning not just on his skin, but through his very soul. His voice was like grinding teeth, and his anger was barely contained.
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