Chapter 180 – Voldemort!
No matter how timid a dog might be, it will often summon unexpected courage in the presence of its master.
That loyalty, that reliance on the master's strength—
Even Fang, who normally never left Hagrid's side, faltered now. The horrifying scene before them was so overwhelming that the great boarhound whimpered and backed away.
Harry, Ron, and Draco exchanged stricken glances. They all knew how powerful unicorns were supposed to be. Yet the figure before them—a hooded wizard crouched over the slain creature—had destroyed it with ease.
But what they didn't know was that they had misjudged him.
The half‑crippled Voldemort standing there was no invincible god. His victory over the unicorn came not from sheer power, but from his mastery of spellwork and the unicorn's over‑reliance on magic.
If it had been a dragon, Voldemort would never have had such an easy time. Raw physical might could overwhelm even brilliant magic.
In the original world line, the centaurs of the forest avoided confrontation. And now, Hagrid was the one standing between this monster and wider chaos.
---
"Harry! What's wrong with you?" Draco suddenly shouted.
Harry staggered, one hand clutching his forehead, his whole body trembling. His scar burned like fire.
Unseen by the others, Dumbledore, hidden deeper in the trees, narrowed his eyes. He had deliberately strengthened the latent connection between Harry and Voldemort, curious to observe what might happen.
If not for Dumbledore's interference, the piece of Voldemort's soul within Harry—the source of his strange affinity with dark magic—would have surged in a very different way, granting Harry unnatural sharpness and strength. Repeated encounters with Voldemort could have honed Harry like a blade.
But now, the connection only seared him with waves of pain. His vision blurred; he stumbled back.
Quirrell—still kneeling by the unicorn—seemed to notice nothing. A thin wisp of black smoke rose from his body, dissolving into the night.
Dumbledore's lips twitched in a faint, sardonic smile.
Tom, you truly cannot hide your thoughts. Even here, you let your hatred bleed through.
Inside the castle, Tom's essence had lain dormant. But here, in the forest, faced with Hagrid's presence and Harry's proximity, the Dark Lord stirred.
Dumbledore watched carefully. At least now I know—Tom still does not realize what Harry carries within him.
Yet it was not without cost. Two lives had ended in this forest tonight: one the innocent unicorn… and the other, Quirrell, who could never recover from what he had done.
---
Hagrid knelt by the unicorn, stroking its cold neck with shaking hands.
"Merlin's beard… how could anyone do this?" His voice cracked. "Who would dare… drink unicorn blood?"
Ron, standing back with his hands over his eyes, croaked out, "What's so bad about unicorn blood?"
Harry, recovering slowly, lowered his hand from his scar. Draco gripped his arm, both boys listening intently.
Hagrid's voice trembled. "Only those who are truly desperate—who have nothing, yet want everything—would stoop to this. Unicorn blood will keep you alive… even if you're inches from death. But at a terrible cost. From the moment it touches your lips, your life is cursed. Half‑a‑life. A shadowed existence."
The three boys fell silent. Even when they tried to question him further, Hagrid only stared grimly at the trees.
At last, under Hagrid's quiet instructions, they dug a shallow grave and buried the noble creature. The earth closed over the silvery mane.
On the walk back, Ron muttered, "If life comes with a curse like that… I'd rather die."
"And a wizard that powerful," Draco said darkly, "stooping to that? It's disgusting."
"Unless…" Harry's eyes flared with sudden realization. His voice rose with excitement. "Unless he only drank it to buy time—time to get something else. Something that restores everything… something that grants immortality…"
Draco and Ron looked at him, wide‑eyed.
Harry clenched his fists. "The Philosopher's Stone!"
Then he shouted, louder: "Voldemort!"
Both Ron and Draco jumped.
"Don't say that name!" they yelped in unison.
Harry ignored them. "Think about it! Who else would do this? Who's been lurking in the shadows all these years, waiting for a second chance? Who clings to life no matter what?"
"Mystery Man!" Ron blurted.
"Dark Lord!" Draco whispered, shivering.
Harry's eyes gleamed. "Then the wizard under that hood… it's Quirrell. And the one controlling him is Voldemort!"
Draco went pale, trembling as he grabbed Ron's sleeve. "Behind Quirrell's head… is it him?"
Ron's voice cracked in horror. "Fred and George hit Quirrell on the back of the head! Oh no—"
Harry's thoughts raced. "Dumbledore put the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts to lure him out! But after what we saw… even a half‑crippled Voldemort is terrifying. What if Dumbledore—"
"Harry! You lot!" Hagrid's booming voice cut through the night. "Hurry up—it's nearly half‑past midnight!"
---
They trudged back in silence. At the castle, Hagrid escorted Draco down to the Slytherin dungeons, then watched as Harry and Ron returned to Ravenclaw Tower on the sixth floor.
In the darkened common room, Harry paced restlessly before the dying embers of the fire, his hands clenched, his scar still aching.
Ron sat slumped in an armchair, fighting off sleep. "Harry, it's over… just stop thinking about it…"
But Harry's eyes blazed. "I knew it! Who else could break into Gringotts and Hogwarts? Who else could destroy a unicorn without even casting obvious spells? Only Voldemort!"
"Don't say that name!" Ron hissed, glancing toward the dormitory stairs.
"Dumbledore hasn't acted yet," Harry pressed on, "because Quirrell is still alive… he wants to catch Voldemort. But what if he's underestimated him? What if Voldemort is still too strong?"
"Please, Harry…" Ron groaned, "stop saying his name…"
Harry ignored him. "Then we wait. Quirrell will try to steal the Stone. If Dumbledore's plan fails… Voldemort will rise again, and then—then he'll come for me."
He stopped pacing and stared into the fire. "This is a school," he whispered fiercely, "not a battlefield."
Ron swallowed hard. "Harry, you've got to trust Dumbledore. He's the greatest wizard alive. The one You‑Know‑Who fears most."
Harry didn't answer. He kept staring at the flames, his jaw set.
Ron's voice softened. "Hagrid will tell Dumbledore what happened tonight. He'll understand. He'll be ready."
At last, as dawn's first light touched the windows, their exhausted bodies gave out. They stumbled up to their dormitory and collapsed into bed—Harry still deep in thought, Ron finally letting sleep claim him.
---
(End of Chapter 180)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 40+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics