"Professor Dumbledore knew, and still he's let the Dark One lurk in the Forbidden Forest… how could he do that…?"
Hermione's face went white, as if something toppled inside her.
"Don't worry, Harry—we're all here. And the Philosopher's Stone is wrapped in Dumbledore's snares; he won't dare go near it… But then why doesn't he leave? Is he… reluctant to? And what drove him to drinking unicorn blood?"
Justin looked as rattled by last night's scene as the rest, yet forced himself to speak calmly, to steady them. With Sean away, his voice alone helped the room recover a bit of reason.
"Because he needs to recover strength… Harry, think—what else did Firenze say?"
His voice was gentle and firm.
Some of the terror that had gripped Harry all night gave way to thought.
"Only a man who has nothing and wants everything would commit such an atrocity? No, no… To save your own life by slaughtering a pure, helpless creature—once that blood touches your lips, what you gain is a half-life, a cursed life— I understand!"
"Vol—Voldemort—slaughter?!"
Neville, after hearing the string of shocking events in the Forest, finally fulfilled everyone's expectations and fainted. Justin and Harry said nothing now, only hauled him onto a sofa.
"He hasn't killed the unicorn. He hasn't recovered enough."
A quiet voice slid into the tense conversation. No one bristled at the interruption—rather, they all brightened at once.
"Sean's back!"
Ron yelled first.
"Sean…"
Even Neville's ears twitched; he groggily pushed himself upright.
"Sean, how was the Congress?"
Justin tried a thin smile.
"Sean—what about Professor Dumbledore?"
Harry asked with hope. At the name, Hermione flinched, then still looked to Sean with pleading eyes.
"I'm all right… but the Headmaster must preside over the Congress. He won't be back for two days."
A hush fell over the room.
"If the Headmaster's away—once he kills the unicorn and regains strength, and Professor Quirrell delivers the Stone—Hogwarts won't exist. He'll raze the school, or turn it into an academy of Dark Arts! He won't spare us; not one of us would ever condone his crimes, or join his forces."
Harry murmured, despairing.
Sean took the main seat. He had confirmed one good thing: Quirrell's soul was not yet fully damned… There was still time.
England hadn't had decent weather since April; rain hammered the windows, soaking the castle from spire to foundations.
The room's mood was suffocating.
"We won't let him," Justin said suddenly—his voice for once full of iron and courage. "I saw him scared off by the centaurs—he doesn't dare show himself! The professors may not believe a 'Dark One in the Forest,' but we are here!
"If we can find him—get a photograph—the professors will take the Forest in hand. Until then—
"We will hold the Forest—we will protect the unicorns—we will hold to the last, not one step back! We'll stand with the centaurs; we'll stand with Hagrid!
"My mother says a truly noble character never surrenders!"
His nearly reckless words did not frighten anyone. Neville, trembling, began to clap; Ron followed, then Hermione and Harry.
"Sean, we need your lead. You're the most capable, the wisest among us. Please—tell us what to do."
Justin spoke softly.
Every gaze—hopeful, fervent, fearful—fell on Sean. A torrent of thoughts flashed through his mind.
Voldemort himself was not fully present, but the desperate, controlled Professor Quirrell would come to kill a unicorn. They'd be hard-pressed to catch him; in that state he was Voldemort's very shape. But the Dark Lord had not yet slain one—he had only begun to drink—and was terribly weak. He wouldn't dare reveal himself, much less clash openly with the staff…
All they had to do was watch the unicorns. Without the Stone, without strength, Voldemort would be cautious—at least for now.
Two days—when Dumbledore returned, Quirrell might yet be truly saved.
After all, the Headmaster still had a squirrel biscuit.
Sean knew the plan was not without cracks—indeed, full of unknowns—but there is no perfect plan.
He looked at each pair of eyes—They all knew they had no true power to resist; they knew they might fail; their bodies still shook—yet they had not retreated, and would not.
"I'll make some upgrades to the Map. If you spot anything, touch the signal—and immediately use a Bowtruckle biscuit to transform and hide.
"I'll finish five modified brooms before nightfall—high-speed, invisible, auto-tracking. Before transforming, you can choose to flee or draw attention on a broom.
"Two or three to a team—go with Hagrid, or with the centaur Firenze.
"—Third Round Table—We hold the Forest until dawn."
Sean's voice was even.
The Hope Nook fell still—then burst into thunderous applause.
The rest of the day passed under a pressure laced with excitement. Justin went to the professors, but they had no patience for "centaur prophecies" or "the Dark Lord's return." Even Hermione got a gentle scolding from Professor Flitwick.
By the Black Lake, a dragon the size of a small student was wreathed in fire-salamander sigils. Sean poured out his magic with no restraint; the dragon swelled at once and broke into a great tide of flame.
[You practiced an advanced Transfiguration at Master level. Proficiency +3000]
He cast again—a boulder snapped into a free-moving stone sentinel over a meter high.
[You practiced an advanced Transfiguration at Master level. Proficiency +3000]
After a few seconds, Sean lowered his wand.
His Transfiguration was skirting Master level. Though he still didn't believe he could face Quirrell, he could raise a signal—and buy a sliver of time.
A sliver long enough for others to arrive—or, in a crisis, to bring in broom-riding professors bent on "arresting students night-wandering in the Forest."
That was their fallback—aside from the four in detention, Sean and Neville could shoulder the sin of breaking curfew in the Forbidden Forest.
But unless there was no choice, they wouldn't use it. Two offenses at once—Hogwarts rules were no joke.
In the wind and rain.
The Black Lake's shattered mirror-surface knit and broke and knit again—casting back a pair of calm green eyes—
Which unicorn would the weakened Dark Lord choose?
The answer wasn't hard to guess. Hagrid and the centaurs could briefly protect the others.
And Sean would guard the wounded unicorn.
~~~
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