HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

The path was strewn with specks of silver unicorn blood, sending chills down one's spine.

"Could it be that a werewolf killed the unicorn?" Harry asked.

"It won't be that simple," Hagrid said. "Catching a unicorn is no easy feat; these animals possess powerful magic. I've never heard of a unicorn being harmed before."

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the darkness ahead, as if something was sliding on the ground.

Draco gripped Harry's hand tightly, his platinum blonde hair sticking to his forehead with cold sweat, and his grey-blue pupils contracting violently with fear.

"There's a sound..." he said in a breathy voice.

Harry pulled Draco behind him, looking wary.

Hagrid picked up the crossbow bolt and squinted at the dark path.

A few seconds later, the sound disappeared.

Hagrid lowered his crossbow and muttered, "Something that doesn't belong in the Forbidden Forest has come in..."

He turned to Harry and said, "Harry, let's split up and go find that thing."

Harry nodded, and Draco said, "You have to give us the Tooth!"

"Well, I have to remind you, Draco, Fang Fang is a coward," Hagrid said, handing Fang Fang's leash to Draco.

Draco, holding Tooth in one hand and Harry in the other, finally felt a little more at ease.

So Harry, Draco, and Tooth walked toward the center of the Forbidden Forest.

West followed for nearly half an hour. The trees became denser, the bloodstains on the ground increased, and his unease grew stronger.

West saw Harry, holding Malfoy's hand, raise the lamp, walk around an old tree, and walk into a clearing.

There lay a pure white animal—a beautiful unicorn, but it had already lost its life.

Its long legs remained in the position it had fallen in, its pure white fur spread out on the dark fallen leaves, as white as pearls.

Draco gasped, his brow furrowing in distress. "Who would dare harm a unicorn?"

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but Harry pulled him back a few steps quickly.

From a clump of bushes at the edge, a hooded figure emerged, crawling slowly on the ground as it approached the unicorn.

It lowered its head, aimed at the wound on the side of the corpse, and began to drink the unicorn's blood.

West raised his wand, staring intently at the bizarre scene before him.

Draco was trembling, his eyes wide open, too terrified to move.

Harry was also pale. He was covering Draco's mouth, afraid that Draco would scream and they would be discovered.

However, Tooth was terrified. It had been whimpering and huddled at Draco's feet, but at that moment it broke free from Draco's grasp and ran away with a "whoosh".

The hooded figure looked up at Harry and Draco, then quickly walked over.

At that moment, a sharp pain erupted from the scar on Harry's forehead, a sensation he had never experienced before, as if his scar had suddenly caught fire.

His vision blurred with pain, and he staggered backward.

"Harry!" Draco cried out in surprise and fear, throwing himself in front of Harry, his limbs stiff as he watched the eerie figure moving toward them.

In the moment of crisis, a green light struck the man in black, who lay on the ground convulsing as if struck by lightning.

When Harry opened his eyes, Draco was lying on top of him, his eyes bloodshot, and next to him was a centaur with platinum blonde hair, while the man in black was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry! Are you alright!" Draco finally broke down in tears.

Harry rubbed his forehead, and after a moment, he said helplessly, "It's nothing... Draco, ouch, stop pinching me."

Draco reluctantly released his grip on Harry's arm, leaving several crescent-shaped pinch marks. "Sorry, I was just too nervous," he said apologetically.

The centaur's blue eyes shifted from the direction the men in black had fled to Harry, lingering on the scar on his forehead. "You're that Potter kid?"

"You'd better go back to Hagrid; the forest isn't safe. Can you ride a horse?" the centaur said, then, as if remembering something, added, "My name is Ferenze."

Ferenc bent down and let Harry and Draco climb onto his back.

Draco stopped crying, and in astonishment, he held Harry's shoulder, unable to believe that a centaur would allow a human to ride him.

"Mars is very bright tonight," Ferenc said, leading the two away.

Behind the bushes, West put away his wand with a stiff expression.

What did he just do?

In a moment of crisis, he actually used the Cruciatus Curse on the man in black. He had never even learned the Unforgivable Curse.

The crescent moon on his arm radiated intense heat, as if excited about performing dark magic.

West composed himself and recalled the face of the man in black that had been revealed in pain.

It was a face paler than moonlight, eerily pale, like a snake, with a deathly bluish hue, its eyes as narrow as a cat's, and its nose replaced by two thin slits.

The man in black only twitched for a short while, and upon hearing the sound of horses' hooves, he immediately got up and ran away.

That eerie face disappeared into the darkness once more.

A night breeze blew by, and West could faintly smell the pungent odor of garlic in the air.

West's expression shifted rapidly. "...Quirok?"

He followed Harry and the others until they finally reunited with Hagrid, then adjusted his Invisibility Cloak and returned to the Slytherin common room.

West got into bed, drew the curtains, and rubbed the crescent-shaped scar on his arm, squinting his eyes.

The excitement has faded, and things have become much the same as usual.

After a while, Draco returned. He had been terrified that night, and he quietly climbed into bed without making a sound.

The next day, when West got up, he saw that Draco was already sitting up, with dark circles under his eyes.

This is not the young master who usually loves to sleep in.

"What's wrong, Draco?" West asked.

Draco looked up at him, suddenly becoming agitated. "You have no idea what happened last night!"

He recounted what happened last night, including parts that West knew and parts that he didn't.

"That centaur said the Man of Mystic isn't dead!" Draco said, his face contorted with despair.

West looked at him curiously. "Shouldn't you be happy? After all... your father is loyal to Voldemort?"

Draco froze for a moment, then turned pale, a wave of panic washing over him as West uttered that name. "But...but he killed you and Harry's parents..."

"My father said the Dark Lord was the symbol of perfect pureblood," Draco said, "but he acted like a lowly beast, devouring unicorns for survival!"

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking very upset. "I think my father followed the wrong person." The little peacock's tail feathers were all drooping.

West's expression softened.

He ruffled Draco's soft hair and thought to himself that it felt much better than Harry's.

"This is none of your business, Draco," West said softly. "Go have breakfast, okay?"

"You always act like you're our elder, West," Draco said, disgruntled.

Although West was indeed much more mature and composed than them, Draco thought with a touch of envy.

They would unconsciously rely on West.

When West brought Draco to the Great Hall, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were already there.

After breakfast, the five of them gathered together again.

Harry had already told Ron and Hermione about it in the Gryffindor common room last night, which made them look rather somber.

"So Quirrell actually wanted to help Voldemort get the Philosopher's Stone!" Harry pondered for a moment before uttering a startling statement.

Ron exclaimed in horror, "Don't say that name again, Harry!"

Draco nodded, agreeing with Ron for the first time.

West agreed with Harry, "You're right."

Even more bizarrely, Voldemort might be possessing Quirrell right now. But West didn't say it aloud. The thought was too terrifying; he didn't want to frighten the four children.

Harry actually seemed a little excited.

"The stars indicate he'll come back and kill me and West." Harry and West exchanged a glance, and West instantly understood what Harry was thinking.

They have the opportunity to take revenge themselves.

Hermione looked frightened, but still said, "Vanity is afraid of Dumbledore. With Dumbledore around, Vanity won't harm a hair on your heads. Besides, who says the centaur's words are always accurate..."

She looked into West and Harry's eyes, and her voice gradually faded.

She noticed that the Potter brothers didn't seem afraid at all; instead, their eyes held a strange excitement.