Chapter 60: A Midnight Excursion into the Forbidden Forest
The journey back went quietly, without incident.
Russell didn't run into Cedric on the train and spent the entire trip absorbed in his newly acquired book—Advanced Dark Magic.
The title wasn't exaggerated in the slightest. It truly lived up to its name.
Besides ancient dark arts such as the creation of Horcruxes, the book even recorded the three Unforgivable Curses in detail.
For now, Russell had no intention of touching anything of that level.
He'd rather not discover the consequences firsthand by being sent straight to Azkaban, so he turned instead to the less extreme branches of dark magic.
For instance—sacrificial rituals.
These were a fascinating category of magic. By offering a specific sacrifice, one could summon a corresponding entity. Naturally, such rituals tended to attract dark creatures—Dementors included.
Different rituals called forth different beings. The book only detailed two in particular: the method for summoning Gargoyles (also known as stone sentinels) and the Headless Horseman.
One major drawback of sacrificial magic was its uncertainty.
There was no guarantee that the entity you summoned would obey you. The price you paid merely ensured its arrival—anything beyond that might require an additional, often greater, sacrifice.
Russell suddenly thought of Lurch, the Addams family's butler.
He never spoke, only groaned from deep in his throat. His skin was corpse-pale, and his body felt hard as iron.
Had he… been summoned?
Russell flipped to the page about the Headless Horseman and frowned.
The summoning conditions were bizarre.
Two heads were required as the offering.
Not necessarily human heads—but two nonetheless.
The reason was simple: as a knight, the Horseman required a mount.
And the mount, too, demanded a head.
Once summoned, the creature would place the sacrificed head atop its neck as its own. If satisfied, you would gain an immortal servant—immune to blade and spell alike, save for Fiendfyre and the Patronus Charm.
More disturbingly, the Horseman would also inherit certain abilities of its "head."
For example, if you sacrificed the head of a Chinese Fireball dragon, the Horseman would breathe fire.
However, if it was not satisfied…
Then it would be your head in danger.
Worse still, the creature was notoriously fickle. One head never lasted long.
Once it grew tired of its current "face," if you didn't provide a superior replacement…
It would take yours instead.
By contrast, summoning a Gargoyle was far simpler.
Unfortunately, gargoyles were famously lazy.
They usually functioned only as stationary guardians for laboratories, vaults, and towers rather than active companions.
Which reminded Russell of something else.
There was one such gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
Russell quietly memorized the conditions for summoning a gargoyle.
When he had a laboratory of his own someday, he planned to summon one as a guardian.
With the long whistle of the locomotive, Hogwarts finally came into view.
By now, Russell had fully adapted to life at Hogwarts. His routine was steady and disciplined: practicing spells with Cedric every morning, burying himself in the library whenever he had free time, and heading to the Room of Requirement at night to spar.
However, he couldn't help noticing that Filch's mood had been deteriorating.
The man was no longer merely arrogant—he now wandered the castle in silence, his face perpetually dark, radiating irritability.
That said, it wasn't Russell's concern.
The two of them passed each other like strangers, pretending the other didn't exist.
---
On Thursday evening, Russell arrived at Professor Corvey's office with unconcealed anticipation.
After a period of instruction, the professor had finally decided that Russell was ready for field training.
"Professor, where are we going?" Russell asked curiously.
"The Forbidden Forest," Corvey replied with a sly grin. "Ever been?"
"Of course not, Professor. I'm a model student who follows school rules," Russell said honestly. After Hagrid had stopped him last time, he truly hadn't tried again.
"Good. Then tonight, I'll take you in for your first visit."
He chuckled.
"I can only risk bringing you along thanks to that Silent Charm (Silent Step) you taught me. The Disillusionment Charm isn't completely reliable in the forest—many creatures there rely on smell and hearing more than vision."
"But now it's different," Corvey continued confidently. "I could stand right in front of them, and they still wouldn't sense me."
He tapped his wand lightly against himself—and then Russell.
Russell immediately felt strange.
Not invisible… but wrong, somehow.
It was as though his body no longer truly belonged to him.
The texture and color of his form melded seamlessly with the environment.
He had become a human chameleon.
---
At the forest's edge, Corvey led Russell onto a narrow trail winding into darkness.
The evening wind picked up, rattling leaves together with an eerie rustling sound.
"Watch your step," Corvey cautioned. "And mind the snakes."
The professor swept aside tall weeds with his wand.
"Professor… if we're concealed, how can I still hear you?" Russell whispered in surprise.
"A simple trick—slightly expanding the range of sound transmission," Corvey said casually. "With enough practice, you'll find it easy too."
Russell thought sourly that the professor made it sound far simpler than it probably was.
"Professor… I heard there are werewolves in the forest. Is that true?" Russell asked hesitantly.
"I've never personally seen one," Corvey shrugged. "Which may have something to do with the fact that I never come here on a full moon."
"But take note—wanted Dark Wizards occasionally hide here."
"The forest is rich in resources. Naturally, they see it as fertile ground. But since the Forbidden Forest belongs to Hogwarts, they don't get to do whatever they like."
He snorted.
"As for those so-called Dark Wizards? Their skills are nothing special. Hagrid could chase them off himself."
"Not to mention, he has plenty of friends here."
Corvey gestured ahead.
"Like centaurs. Look—there's one now."
Russell followed his gaze.
In the moonlight stood a strange figure.
A man from the waist up—bare-chested—but below the waist, the powerful black body of a horse, glossy as polished obsidian, with a long tail swaying gently behind.
The centaur stood motionless, staring up at the stars.
"Centaurs are experts in divination," Corvey said lightly. "Always gazing at the heavens."
"And just like all fortune-tellers—they love being vague. Always speaking in half-riddles."
Russell could hear clear disdain in his professor's voice.
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