The next two nights were anything but peaceful.
Harley and the others had their first encounter with a Red Hat—a goblin-like creature, only uglier and far more vicious.
Red Hats were notorious for their love of ambushes and bloodshed, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for an unsuspecting victim.
Their name came from the eerie, fur-like growth on their heads, perpetually stained red with the blood of their kills.
Centuries ago, they roamed battlefields, preying on wounded soldiers and careless wanderers.
If it hadn't been for Ted, who had been tailing the group unseen, they might not have even realized they were being stalked.
Without hesitation, Ted unleashed a Frostbolt, striking the Red Hat right through the chest. A chilling burst of crimson ice exploded outward as the creature crumpled to the ground.
Ted's eyes flickered with satisfaction as he received 120 experience points and a card that seemed to hold no immediate function.
It shimmered with white light and dancing flames.
_____
[Fair Spirituality (White)]
Material Card
Fey creatures are born with innate spirituality.
_____
"Not bad," Ted muttered, pocketing the card.
The experience gain was significant—perhaps because the Red Hat had been killed outright rather than simply defeated.
A level 4 creature granting more than a troll? He'd have to remember that for later.
On another night, Malfoy and his group had an unfortunate run-in with a Giant Thorn Tree, nearly costing Goyle his arm.
At first glance, it resembled an ordinary plant, with unusual flowers blooming at the top.
But the moment someone got too close, the 'blossoms' would unfurl into massive, gnashing jaws.
This was no ordinary magical plant—it was an invasive species from another world.
Towering as tall as a man, it could blend seamlessly into its surroundings before launching a sudden, violent attack.
Sharp thorns jutted from its body, and its tentacle-like vines lashed out at anything that moved.
Worse still, its sap was highly corrosive, sizzling upon contact with the ground.
The three inexperienced young wizards had nearly fallen into its trap, saved only by Hagrid's quick intervention.
With a mighty pull, he ripped away the vines ensnaring Goyle and dragged him to safety.
"That thing ain't supposed to be this close to the castle," Hagrid muttered, eyeing the writhing mass. "It's usually deeper in the Forbidden Forest. How'd it get here?"
Knowing it posed a significant threat to the students, Hagrid didn't hesitate.
He reached for his massive crossbow, took careful aim, and fired. The bolt struck true, shattering the creature into splinters.
After several nights of peril, Malfoy finally understood the severity of his mistake.
He swore never to break the school rules again—especially if it meant another trip into the Forbidden Forest.
The experience had left him shaken, but one thing was clear: detentions here were no joke.
A week passed in this manner, with Ted taking down a few more monsters and amassing a respectable amount of experience points.
Yet he remained on edge. Something about Quirrell's recent behavior gnawed at him—his once-frequent conversations had dwindled, and he seemed more withdrawn than ever.
Ted kept in constant touch with Hagrid, urging him to stay alert.
His vigilance paid off when Hagrid delivered troubling news one afternoon.
"A unicorn's been injured. Attacked by somethin'. Unbelievable, really—shouldn't be anything in the Forbidden Forest that can do that."
Ted's stomach dropped. He knew what this meant.
Quirrell and Voldemort had finally made their move.
For months, Quirrell had failed to acquire the Sorcerer's Stone.
Voldemort's patience had worn thin, and Quirrell's body was beginning to suffer under the Dark Lord's parasitic possession.
Ted had heard rumors of Voldemort's previous hosts—small animals that had barely lasted a day or two before their bodies withered away.
Even a wizard as skilled as Quirrell could only endure so much.
Now, in desperation, Quirrell had turned to unicorn blood.
Despite its infamous curse, it was a source of vitality—one that Voldemort could not afford to ignore.
It had been eight months since the school year began, and Quirrell had made little progress past the first trial.
Voldemort's growing frustration was dangerous. If things didn't change soon, Quirrell had no idea what punishment awaited him.
The attack on the unicorn confirmed Ted's worst fears. Even knowing the consequences, Quirrell had gone through with it. He had no other choice.
Unicorns were incredibly powerful creatures—strong, fast, intelligent, and naturally resistant to magic.
The older ones could even wield their innate magic to cast spells. But against a professor-level wizard and a vengeful Voldemort, even a mighty unicorn stood little chance.
According to Hagrid's tracking, the injured unicorn was still a young one, not yet fully grown.
The fact that it had managed to escape was surprising. Ted couldn't shake the feeling that Quirrell had let it go on purpose, perhaps as part of some plan.
But Voldemort wasn't one to be deceived. He wouldn't tolerate failure much longer.
Unless Dumbledore intervened soon, the fate of the unicorn—and perhaps even Quirrell—was already sealed.
From Dumbledore's past, it was clear—ever since he was deceived by Grindelwald in his youth, he had transformed from a noble Gryffindor lion into something much more formidable.
A manticore—deadly when provoked, and merciless when in motion.
It had been the same when he confronted his former friend.
And during Voldemort's rise, he had chosen not to engage in direct combat, knowing the risks of an uncertain victory.
If he had openly challenged Voldemort to a duel, there was no way the Dark Lord would have backed down.
Winning that battle, even if it didn't kill Voldemort, would have shattered his prestige. Yet, Dumbledore had abstained.
He was a strategist, not a warrior.
No wonder his mastery lay in Transfiguration rather than raw combat magic.
Tonight was the final night of their detention.
Ted had spoken with Hagrid and suggested easing up on patrols since the Forbidden Forest had become increasingly dangerous.
Hagrid agreed without hesitation.
Over the past two nights, their patrols had been confined to the forest's edge rather than venturing deeper inside.
As a result, they hadn't encountered Voldemort, unicorns, or any major threats—just a few Bowtruckles perched in the trees.
That, and an overly curious Anzu, who nearly got a face full of angry twigs.
Bowtruckles resembled matured stick insects, their bodies blending with the branches they clung to.
Their colors varied from emerald green to deep forest hues.
Normally, they posed no threat—unless provoked.
A startled Bowtruckle could lash out, and getting scratched in the eye by their tiny, clawed fingers was about as likely as choking on water while drinking.
They lived symbiotically with trees, attacking anything that threatened their habitat.
Fortunately, Ted had come prepared.
With a few juicy ground beetles—one of their favorite snacks—he managed to win them over.
In return, they gifted him a long, sturdy branch from a century-old Guardian Tree.
Guardian Trees were magical sorbet trees, once used by medieval Muggles to craft protective charms.
Ted knew this branch might come in handy later.
With two nights of quiet patrols, the group had relaxed considerably.
They no longer felt like they were serving detention—instead, it felt more like an outdoor retreat.
Ron and Jerry had even snuck out food and drinks, already munching away.
If they weren't careful, they'd be roasting marshmallows next.
Meanwhile, hidden behind a tree, completely invisible, Ted was silently watching them, shaking his head.
Then—
Whoosh! A sharp whistle sliced through the night air.
A red firework burst into the sky, painting the dark canopy in fiery streaks.
Something had happened to Hagrid.
Ted's mind raced. He was fairly certain Voldemort wouldn't resort to killing—not yet.
If he did, Dumbledore would undoubtedly intervene. But with Voldemort, nothing was guaranteed.
He was unpredictable. Dangerous.
Without hesitation, Ted barked, "Head back to Hagrid's hut—now! Anzu, get to Professor McGonagall!"
The moment he finished speaking, he vanished into the forest, Invisibility Cloak wrapped around him.
The others hadn't even seen him leave. Only his voice lingered in the air.
For over ten nights, Ted had remained unseen, even using magic to mask his voice.
They had sensed his unease, but never questioned it. Now, his sudden urgency made them realize just how serious this was.
"What do we do?" Ron whispered, gripping his wand tightly.
"I told you to be ready. Are you?" Harley's voice was sharp.
"Yes!" Ron nodded quickly.
Jerry and Neville exchanged a glance before nodding as well.
Harley took a deep breath. "Tell Anzu to deliver the message. We're following—stay back, stay hidden. Be careful."
Gryffindors weren't known for playing it safe.
Obedience? That was wishful thinking.
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Word count: 1535
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