The roaring flames exploding from the black mist instantly melted the transfigured snowflakes dancing in the air, wrapping around the surrounding vegetation as they swept violently toward Damian.
However, despite the fierce appearance of the cursed fire, Damian could clearly see Lord Voldemort's weakness. The Dark Lord hadn't even managed to conjure Fiendfyre; these were just highly concentrated, ordinary flames.
Damian flicked his wand forward. The soil in front of him rolled and churned rapidly, violently transfiguring into a deep pool of water.
With a sharp upward flick of his wrist, the water surged upward, transforming into a massive, crashing wave that slammed directly into the incoming flames.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Before Damian could even catch his breath, a raspy roar echoed from the black mist, and a blinding bolt of green light shot out from within.
The Killing Curse tore effortlessly through the intertwined clash of water and fire, hurtling straight toward Damian's chest.
Damian had been hyper-focused on the movements within the black mist. The absolute second the green light erupted, the soil beneath his feet violently swelled upward.
The terrain shifted drastically, launching Damian to the top of a newly formed slope. The Killing Curse struck the thick soil where he had just been standing, blasting a crater but ultimately yielding no result.
At the same time, the chaotic clash of water and fire gradually subsided. The flames completely dissipated before they could even reach Damian's new vantage point, filling the air with a thick blanket of evaporated water vapor.
Quirrell—or rather, the parasitic Lord Voldemort—seemed to realize Damian was far too troublesome to deal with quickly. Wanting to cut his losses, the mass of black mist began to retreat, flying rapidly toward the deeper woods behind him.
However, Damian had absolutely no intention of letting him leave so easily.
Slashing his wand through the air, Damian seized control of the thick water vapor blanketing the clearing. Because the vapor was a direct byproduct of his transfigured water, it was still entirely under his magical control!
The mist surged forward, aggressively enveloping the retreating black cloud and moving perfectly in sync with it.
The water vapor rapidly changed composition, its color shifting into a sickly, glowing green. Damian had transfigured the vapor into a highly corrosive Acid Mist.
"Ah—!" A ragged scream of genuine agony ripped from the black cloud.
Suddenly, Damian's expression tightened. He sensed a violently unstable, massive fluctuation of magic rapidly expanding within the black mist.
Without hesitation, Damian pointed his wand down. The soil beneath his feet instantly disintegrated, opening into a deep, narrow pit just large enough for him to dive inside.
"Protego!"
As soon as he dropped into the trench, a thick, translucent Shield Charm flared to life above him.
BOOM—!
A catastrophic explosion detonated within the black mist. The resulting shockwave flattened the surrounding trees, snapping thick trunks like twigs.
Safely hidden inside his fortified pit, Damian barely felt the impact, completely insulated by the earth and his Shield Charm.
Just as he was preparing to climb out, a cold, silken voice echoed from a distance.
"Finite Incantatem!"
The lingering flames from the explosion were instantly snuffed out. A moment later, the sound of hurried footsteps crunched across the ruined clearing.
As Damian pulled himself out of the trench, he saw Severus Snape striding quickly toward him, his wand drawn.
Upon seeing Damian unharmed, the rigid tension in Snape's shoulders seemed to drop, and his perpetually somber expression softened just a fraction.
"Did I, or did I not, explicitly instruct you to throw that signal crystal if you encountered trouble in the Forbidden Forest?" Snape's tone was sharp and laced with genuine annoyance.
Damian brushed the dirt off his robes, looking slightly awkward. "I felt confident I could handle the situation."
"It is invariably the most confident swimmers who drown," Snape cautioned coldly.
"It won't happen again, Professor." Damian glanced toward the blast crater. The black mist had completely vanished; the cloaked figure had successfully fled under the cover of the violent explosion.
A second set of heavy footsteps rapidly approached from behind Snape. It was Hagrid, panting heavily, with Harry and the others rushing behind him.
Immediately after Harry had run away from the clearing, he had fired red sparks into the sky. But unexpectedly, the first person to find him hadn't been Hagrid—it had been Snape.
Harry had been absolutely terrified. In a moment of panic, he had pointed his wand right at the Potions Master and screamed, "Expelliarmus!" Harry had genuinely believed Snape was the cloaked figure from the clearing. He had assumed Snape had already murdered Senior Damian and was now coming to silence him because they had caught the Potions Master drinking unicorn blood.
Snape, of course, had never expected to be framed so thoroughly by a panicking twelve-year-old.
After crossing paths with the first-years in the castle and learning of their detention, Snape had felt a nagging sense of unease. Thinking of the recently slaughtered unicorns and Quirrell's highly suspicious behavior, his pride hadn't let him admit he was worried, but he had followed them out anyway.
After finishing his work with the salamander tails, he had quietly stalked the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, just in case things went south.
Hagrid had arrived shortly after Harry's botched Disarming Charm. Harry had immediately started shouting that Snape was the one killing the unicorns. Hagrid hadn't believed a word of it—he knew Snape frequently ventured into the Forest to harvest rare potion ingredients—leading to a tense standoff between the three.
Fortunately, the misunderstanding was cut short by the massive explosion echoing from Damian's direction. Seeing that Harry was safely under Hagrid's protection, Snape had immediately sprinted toward the blast zone.
"Are yeh alright?!" Hagrid's booming voice rang out as he broke into the clearing, staring in shock at the flattened trees.
"I'm perfectly fine, but the culprit hunting the unicorns managed to escape," Damian said calmly.
Upon seeing Damian alive and well, Harry finally realized he had completely misunderstood the situation. He looked at Snape, completely at a loss.
"I'm... I'm so sorry, Professor Snape... I shouldn't have doubted you," Harry stammered, blushing furiously.
Even though Snape had effortlessly swatted his Disarming Charm aside like a pesky fly, Harry still felt an immense wave of guilt for attacking a teacher.
"Potter... attempt to use that thick skull of yours for once..." Snape sneered, staring down at those bright green eyes with profound disdain. He turned sharply to the half-giant. "Hagrid, escort them back to their common rooms immediately."
Hagrid rubbed the back of his massive head. After such a violent incident, he had zero desire to keep the first-years out in the Forest any longer.
"Wait, where's Malfoy?" Hagrid asked, scanning the group and realizing the blond boy was missing.
"When we encountered the cloaked figure, he screamed and ran off with Fang," Damian explained dryly.
Hagrid pulled out a heavy brass whistle. "Then we need ter find Fang first. He's a bloody coward, but he's brilliant at trackin'."
Hagrid blew a sharp, piercing note into the dark woods. A few minutes later, Fang came bounding out of the underbrush, with a pale, trembling Malfoy stumbling close behind.
Malfoy had luckily avoided getting completely lost. When he had sprinted away in blind terror, he had subconsciously followed the dog. Once he finally calmed down, he had clung to Fang, and when the boarhound heard its master's whistle, it had immediately dragged the boy back to the group.
"Was that a werewolf?! I told you! I told you all there were werewolves in the Forest!" Malfoy shrieked, becoming instantly hysterical upon seeing the others.
"That was not a werewolf. A werewolf lacks the magical capacity to cause an explosion of this magnitude," Snape said coldly. "All of you, return to the castle immediately. Tonight's detention is concluded."
Hagrid quickly ushered Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Malfoy back up the path, but Damian remained behind. Snape clearly had questions he wanted answered in private.
Snape carefully, meticulously interrogated Damian about the exact details of his duel with the cloaked figure.
"Did you catch a glimpse of his face?" Snape asked, his dark eyes intense.
Damian shook his head. "I didn't. He was wearing a heavy black robe with the hood pulled low. It was impossible to see his features, and his voice was completely unrecognizable. It sounded heavily disguised and raspy."
"Resorting to a disguise indicates the culprit's true identity would be easily recognizable to us," Snape sneered softly. He stepped closer. "What did his magical presence feel like to you?"
He had heavily suspected Quirrell all year, but what truly terrified Snape was a far darker possibility. Was the Dark Lord himself currently lurking in the Forbidden Forest?
"It's hard to describe," Damian said thoughtfully. "His magic felt incredibly irritable... laced with a distinct hint of madness. It certainly didn't feel like the aura of a normal, sane wizard."
Snape's pale face darkened considerably. That specific description sounded horrifyingly like the Dark Lord himself.
But... would the Dark Lord, the most feared dark wizard of the century, really be reduced to desperately trading blows with a fifth-year student in the mud?
Perhaps the Dark Lord's current state was far, far weaker than anyone could have ever imagined...
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