Filch returned to the castle, leaving Harry and the others behind in the dark.
"Why is there an extra one?" Hagrid asked, looking at Damian curiously.
Damian explained the situation again. "Professor Snape asked me to venture into the Forbidden Forest to help him collect some fresh Sunlight Root."
"Collectin' Sunlight Root in the Forest at night?" Hagrid curled his lip and shook his massive head. He pointed a thick finger toward the dark tree line. "Well, normally the Forest ain't too dangerous, s'long as yer careful. But things have been unusual lately. A unicorn was killed in there last week."
He ducked back into his hut, emerging a moment later with two heavy lanterns and Fang on a leash.
Hagrid turned to the four students. "We'll split into two groups. Harry, Malfoy, and Fang will follow Damian to look for that Sunlight Root. Neville and Hermione will come with me to track the unicorn."
"Damian, if you find a unicorn, shoot green sparks from yer wand. If you run into trouble, shoot red sparks. I'll come runnin' the second I see 'em," Hagrid instructed.
Damian nodded and took the lantern Hagrid offered.
As they entered the Forbidden Forest, Neville stuck close to Hagrid's massive coat. His pale, trembling face made it obvious how terrified he was.
Hagrid pointed to a patch of shimmering silver liquid on the ground. "That's unicorn blood. Usually, unicorns don't come anywhere near the edge of the Forest. Must've been lookin' for me to help it."
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, sniffing loudly.
Hagrid then pointed down a separate, winding path. "Go that way until you hit a stream. You'll find plenty of Sunlight Root growing along the banks."
Hagrid knew the Forbidden Forest like the back of his hand. Soon, Damian's trio split off from Hagrid, heading deeper into the dark woods.
The eerie rustling of wind whistling through the thickets was the only company they had. Other than that, the group could only hear the crunch of their own shoes stepping on dead weeds.
Draco, seeming to adapt to the dark environment, began making snide small talk. "Potter, if it weren't for you, I'd be sleeping comfortably in my four-poster bed right now."
Harry frowned and kept walking in silence. He didn't want to deal with Malfoy's whining.
Draco continued, talking mostly to himself. "Because of your little stunt, you cost Gryffindor a hundred and fifty points! You aren't winning the Quidditch Cup this year, and now you're completely out of the running for the House Cup."
Gryffindor's Quidditch performance hadn't been stellar this year, having lost to both Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Now, both rival teams had two wins each, meaning the championship would be decided by a final playoff.
Damian thought to himself that Malfoy's gloating was premature. Whether Gryffindor actually won the House Cup ultimately depended entirely on Dumbledore's mood at the end-of-year feast.
"Next year, I'm definitely joining the Slytherin team," Draco boasted. "Potter, don't you—"
"Shut up," Damian interrupted sharply. "Something is happening up ahead."
Damian had sensed a faint, ethereal ripple of magic in the air. It felt unstable, as if it might dissipate at any moment.
A moment later, the lantern light illuminated a dense pool of silver blood on the forest floor. Following the trail, they saw the source.
A majestic creature lay collapsed on the ground. Its entire body emitted a faint, pearlescent glow. Snowy-white tail hairs were scattered across the dirt, painting an exceptionally tragic and beautiful scene.
The unicorn was twitching weakly, the shallow rise and fall of its chest proving it was still clinging to life.
"Is that... a unicorn?" Draco's voice trembled.
No one answered him. Damian silently raised his wand, pointing it into the darkness ahead. He could sense someone hiding in the shadows.
"You two, get ready to shoot sparks into the air," Damian ordered softly.
Harry looked at Damian's raised wand, feeling confused, but he immediately gripped his own wand, preparing to cast the signal.
Suddenly, Damian slashed his wand through the air. "Protego!"
A translucent, circular magical shield erupted in front of the three boys, violently deflecting an incoming Severing Charm.
A figure shrouded in a sweeping black cloak crawled out from the shadows. He was hunched over, moving low to the ground like a predatory beast.
Behind Damian, Harry suddenly collapsed to his knees. He clutched his forehead with both hands, letting out a gasp of sheer agony.
"Aaaaaah—!" Malfoy screamed, absolutely terrified. He dropped his lantern and bolted into the darkness. Beside him, Fang let out a frightened yelp and sprinted after the boy. So much for the boarhound's bravery.
"Harry, can you stand?" Damian asked calmly, his eyes locked on the threat.
He knew the cloaked figure was Professor Quirrell, currently possessed by the Dark Lord. However, Voldemort in this parasitic state wasn't truly terrifying to someone with Damian's skillset.
Harry's head throbbed violently, but after a moment, he gritted his teeth and looked up at the cloaked figure.
"I'll hold him off. Run, hide, and shoot red sparks into the sky. Hagrid will come immediately," Damian instructed, casually flicking his wand to block another dark curse from the figure.
"Senior Damian, be careful!" Harry yelled. He understood the gravity of the situation. Calling Hagrid for backup was their best chance, so he turned and ran without hesitation.
With Harry safely away, Damian raised his wand and gave it a sharp, deliberate twirl.
He had anticipated running into Quirrell tonight. On the walk down, he had already decided to test Voldemort's current strength and perhaps speed up the Dark Lord's inevitable deterioration.
Since his recent breakthrough in Transfiguration, Damian hadn't had the chance to face a genuine powerhouse of the wizarding world head-on. His hands were itching for a real fight.
To keep his unique runic magic hidden, he planned to strictly use standard Transfiguration for offense. He had already established his proficiency in the subject, so it wouldn't raise any red flags.
As Damian swirled his wand, the dead leaves and branches on the forest floor violently transfigured into a swarm of razor-sharp steel blades, launching themselves directly at the cloaked figure.
A dark, spherical shield instantly materialized around Quirrell. The storm of transfigured blades shrieked and sparked as they ground relentlessly against the magical barrier.
Within seconds, deep cracks webbed across the dark shield.
Just as the barrier shattered, the cloaked figure dissolved into a thick mass of billowing black smoke, scattering in all directions to evade the shrapnel.
"Oh?" Damian raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. As expected of Voldemort; his defensive maneuvers were highly advanced, utilizing unsupported dark flight.
"How about this, then?" Damian slashed his wand downward.
The swarm of steel blades instantly transfigured again, turning into a localized blizzard of razor-sharp, freezing snowflakes that plunged directly into the swirling black mist.
"You—!" A raspy, inhuman roar erupted from the dark smoke, sounding more like a wounded beast than a man.
A massive shockwave of cursed fire exploded outward from the mist. The blast instantly vaporized the magical blizzard, dispelling the biting chill and melting the deadly snowflakes into steam.
Damian frowned slightly. The sheer power Voldemort had just displayed was significantly higher than he had anticipated.
Ever since the possession, Quirrell had been desperately draining his life force and savings to stabilize the Dark Lord's soul. In the original timeline, Voldemort's parasitic nature degraded Quirrell's body heavily as the year dragged on.
However, because of Damian's earlier interventions, Quirrell had obtained the dragon egg and unicorn blood much earlier than intended. As a result, Quirrell's physical vessel wasn't quite as degraded yet, allowing Voldemort to channel far more raw power than Damian had originally calculated.
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