The walk back was drowned in silence, nobody uttering a word as Hagrid led the way out of the forest. Ron and Harry glanced at Hermione, all of them silently wondering what to do about the Slytherin walking beside them. Hermione glanced at Lucas, seeing him clutching a small vial of unicorn blood tight to his chest. His gaze was distant, his expression empty, his clothes smeared with the silver blood of the creature that had died in his arms only moments earlier.
Hermione realized that even if he was a bit strange and a jerk, Lucas was still a person. He wasn't something evil like you-know-who. A wave of pity and sadness for Lucas washed over Hermione, alongside Ron and Harry. Each of them was truly saddened to see Lucas in such a state. However, they weren't friends with him. They couldn't comfort him, and Ron didn't especially want to. All they did was give him silence, avoiding looking at him directly to let him mourn in privacy.
Once they reached the edge of the forest and returned to Hagrid's hut, Hagrid let Harry, Ron, and Hermione off to their house and took Lucas inside to get cleaned up. Hermione, after walking toward the castle with her friends, glanced back at the somewhat broken Lucas entering Hagrid's hut.
"That was… something," Ron said, not knowing how to truly react to everything that had happened tonight.
"What happened out there, Harry?" Hermione finally asked. Harry stiffened in response.
"We walked for a while until Lucas pulled out a bit of Vitamix to help him search. He suddenly led the way until we found…" Harry stopped, rubbing his scar with his hand in pain. "Voldemort." He muttered the name, and Hermione and Ron both froze in their tracks.
"Voldemort was drinking that unicorn's blood…" Harry muttered, shivering at the reprehensible sight burned into his memory—more than the burning in his scar.
"Drinking blood from a unicorn? Everyone knows it can heal anything, but you'll be cursed forever afterward," Ron said, unsure of why you-know-who would do such a thing. But Hermione's mind kept returning to the image of Lucas' broken demeanor. She couldn't fully concentrate on the problem at hand with that haunting image replaying in her thoughts.
"That's it! That was how Lucas scared him off!" Harry whispered, piecing it together.
"Lucas scared off you-know-who?!" Ron yelled, much too loud, before Hermione shushed him.
They entered their common room, late enough for everyone to be long asleep. The warm glow of the fire in the hearth lifted their spirits slightly as Harry explained.
"Voldemort is weak right now. That's why he's using unicorn blood to keep himself alive, but it's not enough. Snape doesn't want the stone for himself—he wants to give it to Voldemort."
Hermione nodded, wondering why she hadn't thought of it sooner. The night wore on as the three of them discussed the Sorcerer's Stone and how to keep it safe from Voldemort. Yet, in the back of her mind, Hermione kept wondering if Lucas was okay.
Inside Hagrid's hut, I heard Norbetta in the back while Hagrid drew a bath for me to wash off all the blood still clinging to my hands. Using the Slytherin baths would contaminate them—perhaps even curse everything in the Black Lake. Silently, I went along with Hagrid's directions, not really caring about much of anything at the moment.
Hagrid gave me some privacy in his bathroom, and I sank into the hot water after removing my robes.
I left them near the door so Hagrid could take them to be burned. Anything covered in unicorn blood was tainted. While I sat in the massive wooden tub—large enough to swim laps in—all I could think of was the unicorn's weight in my arms. I clutched the airtight vial of her blood, rubbing it between my fingers. Thinking of her, I silently sobbed, keeping my voice low so nobody would hear me.
After what felt like mere moments, Hagrid knocked on the door.
"Got new clothes for ya…"
I sighed, trying to calm myself and shove my depression back down. I stood up, dried myself off, and quickly dressed in the new robes. However, there was something unexpected in the woven basket of clothes Hagrid had left for me—a long brown leather strap, tied into a loop, with a small leather pocket on one end, perfect for storing a single vial.
I placed the loop around my neck and tucked the vial of unicorn blood inside the pocket before hiding it beneath my robes, keeping it from view.
Walking out of the bath, I saw Hagrid sitting in his chair beside the fire, Norbetta eagerly eating his stew.
"Mama!" Norbetta squeaked upon seeing me. She charged at me from Hagrid's lap, fluttering her wings in an attempt to glide over. She was still very bad at flying but managed to remain airborne for a few feet. Latching onto my robes, she pressed her snout against my chest where I kept some of her food.
"Sorry 'bout that," Hagrid said, getting up to pull the baby dragon from me.
I just watched the small dragon cling and burrow into my robes, searching for more of her favorite food.
"It's alright…" I muttered, opening the small bottle of food, much to Hagrid's surprise.
He watched as I poured some into my hand and let Norbetta gobble it up in an instant, chirping happily with her filling stomach.
"Yummy!! This is my favorite!"
I scratched the back of her head as she ate, taking solace in the simple moment.
Once I ran out of food and Norbetta quieted down in my arms, I handed her over to Hagrid. He carefully took her into his large hands, and the crackling of the fire echoed through the silent room.
"Norwegian Ridgebacks mostly eat fish… If you're going to feed her, do it right," I mumbled, still staring at the baby in his arms. Her small chest slowly rose and fell with each sleepy breath.
Hagrid was silent as he glanced at the baby dragon.
"I'm heading to bed," I announced, walking to the door.
I stopped, my hand on the handle while my other hand clasped my chest.
"At least your leatherworking skills are passable…" I muttered before heading outside.
The frigid air filled my lungs as I studied the stars. The unicorn's glistening hair reminded me of the shining stars in the far reaches of space. I sniffled, partly from the cold, then made my way back inside the castle.
Walking through the halls, the sound of my footfalls echoed loudly. Yet, my mind was in a faraway place.
'Who was it…? Who did this…?'
I bit my lip, clasping my chest as I thought.
'It would have to be the worst of the worst dark wizards… Only they could do something so vile…'
With that thought, only one name came to mind.
Voldemort.
It all added up too perfectly. He wanted the boy who lived, dead. One of his minions had come here to finish what he started.
"Pureblood," I muttered to the door, entering my dorm as it creaked open.
The image of the hooded figure's blood-soaked chin, smiling viciously at me, made my rage boil. The bookshelves, tables, and couches shivered from my magic running amok. I took a deep breath, holding in both my anger and my magic. Finally reaching my room, I collapsed onto my bed, hardly bothering to remove my shoes or robes.
My face buried in my pillow, I finally allowed the tears to pour again, groaning and howling into the fabric in sadness.
That night, I had a dream.
I saw the same unicorn running through open plains, happily moving at untold speeds. I ran after her, but she kept pulling further away. Finally, with the help of my hands—running on all fours—I managed to catch up. She looked at me, and I could feel her smiling, enjoying our run together.
We continued for what felt like forever before she seemed tired.
Suddenly, we were enveloped by fog. I stood up to see better, and when the fog dissipated, the unicorn was across a sudden river, accompanied by a strange black wolf. She glanced at the wolf—his yellow, shining eyes a chilling reminder of that fateful night—but I focused on her instead.
She slowly trotted toward the river and crossed the wooden bridge. Finally with me, she bumped her head against my chest, letting it rest there gently.