Chapter 19: 7-3

The night of our dreary, reluctant dinner had arrived. Harry and Hermione were the picture of misery as we headed toward the Entrance Hall, where Filch—who was overseeing tonight’s detention—was waiting for us. Hermione, in particular, seemed unable to bear the reality of being punished; she took pride in her status as a top student just as much as she did in being Harry’s friend. As for me, walking behind them, I was preoccupied with my own struggle. I was desperately whispering to my wand, “Please, just this once, listen to what I tell you...” for I knew which "Presence" we might encounter tonight.

Even if it was only a fleeting shadow, I was finally going to come face-to-face with him—Voldemort, the parasite clinging to Quirrell.

As for my wand, there had been a moment earlier. While we were returning to the Common Room from the Great Hall after that hollow dinner, Draco had slipped away to see me. Out of concern, he had offered to let me borrow his own wand. As a fellow witch, I had declined, though I appreciated the gesture. Unlike me, who was accustomed to living as a Muggle, Draco had been a pure-blood wizard in both his 'past' and 'present' lives. I wasn't so insensitive as to not realize how terrifying it must be for him to be parted from his wand for a long duration. (Though I suppose I am self-aware enough to know I can be insensitive; in the "previous life," I did snatch Malfoy’s wand and carry it around. But back then we were enemies, so there was no room for mercy.)

We arrived at the Entrance Hall. Filch welcomed our dejected group with sickening enthusiasm. Grabbing a lantern for himself, he jerked his withered jaw toward the castle exterior. We followed his vulgar "follow me" gesture with leaden steps. As he gleefully regaled us with the horrors of our punishment to terrify the other two, I muttered internally, This old man’s grumbling sounds just like Kreacher before we reconciled. Soon, I saw Hagrid approaching from his hut, accompanied by Fang. He was somewhat armed. As expected, our detention was to take place inside the Forbidden Forest.

We walked through the night, guided only by the light held by Filch and Hagrid. The forest loomed ahead. Thankfully, we parted ways with Filch there. Even though it meant losing one light source, everyone seemed to agree that darkness was preferable to having that dismal old man muttering gloomily beside us.

Just as Filch retreated toward the castle, leaving us with one last parting sarcasm, Hagrid suddenly bowed his head with such force I thought it was a new kind of attack. Fang, the coward, gave a piteous yelp and hid behind Hermione’s back. Honestly, dog, you really should have more pride as a guard dog.

"I’m sorry! I heard it from young Malfoy! It’s my fault... all my fault... making you lot take a detention like this... it’s all me..."

Apparently, Draco had taken it upon himself to meddle and inform Hagrid of the truth behind this detention without my knowledge. Or rather, knowing that spiteful boy, he probably just enjoyed the opportunity to openly mock Hagrid.

Harry and Hermione comforted Hagrid as he sobbed, his massive tears disappearing into his shaggy beard. However, I couldn't bring myself to tell him—even as a white lie—that it wasn't his fault. This wasn't the first time Hagrid had caused an uproar by secretly harboring a dangerous creature. Then again, when it came to "dangerous blunders," I (as the former Harry) wasn't exactly one to talk, so I followed the example of a certain pair of troublemaking twins and kept my mouth shut.

"Let's just get this over with, Hagrid," I said. "I'd love it if you treated us to some warm milk afterward."

"That's right, Hagrid," Hermione added. "Norbert made it to Charlie safely. We weren't cautious enough either. Although... well... I do hope you're finished with the idea of raising dragons."

"Of course I am!" Hagrid bellowed, and Fang nodded solemnly.

Despite Hagrid's repentance, the fact remained that our detention wasn't going away. Filch was likely watching us from a window even now. To be safe, we had to make sure he saw us actually entering the forest.

And then there was Dumbledore. He must have known. He surely knew about Norbert, and about the wizards who had flown across the sky to collect him. Hogwarts Castle is thoroughly protected by the charms of the Four Founders and countless brilliant witches and wizards throughout history to keep internal threats in and external threats out. That includes the skies.

Therefore, Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed trespassers from the air so easily—unless he intentionally looked the other way.

This detention was the same. If you thought about it, it was absurd. We were being punished with the very act of entering the place we were forbidden to enter. The logic was inverted. In short, this was another one of Dumbledore’s "trials" for Harry.

"Honestly, what a terrifying man," I whispered.

"Err?" Hagrid grunted.

"It’s nothing, you big coward," I said, patting the head of the great boarhound cowering between Hermione and me.

I could only understand these things now because I was no longer the "King" on the board—no longer Harry—but the nameless "Maria."

The nature of the detention was exactly as Harry remembered. We were to find a poor Unicorn that had been the victim of a series of gruesome attacks and, if possible, protect it. For a man who loved animals as much as Hagrid, he surely wanted to solve the killings as well, but since it was too dangerous for children, we focused strictly on discovery.

In the 'past,' we had split into two groups, but since the "idiot who gets caught in his own trap"—Malfoy—wasn't here this time, we all stuck together. Along the way, we encountered Centaurs: Ronan and Bane. When Hagrid asked if they had seen anything, Ronan gave the characteristically cryptic Centaur warning that "Mars is bright tonight."

Then, suddenly—Bane scooped me up under his arm.

"Eh?"

"Wh—Whoa?"

I found myself eye-to-eye with Hagrid for the first time.

"Um...?"

"What are you?" Bane demanded.

"Hah?"

Without another word, Bane’s four legs thundered as he bolted into the brush—with me in tow. Wait... what? EEEH?!

Ronan followed Bane with a troubled expression, but he didn't seem intent on stopping him. He looked genuinely perplexed. Behind them, Harry came charging after us as if he were going to leap onto the Centaur’s tail. I could see Hagrid and Hermione, whose minds and bodies couldn't keep up with the sudden development, shrinking into small dots in the distance.

"U-Um, please put me down! Oof! Could you... please let me go?"

"What are you? The planets do not show you."

"I don't... really... understand Centaur-speak!"

"Maria!"

"Harry!"

Harry eventually took a nasty tumble, causing Ronan to look back in concern, though he didn't stop. Harry was pushing the leg strength he’d built in Quidditch practice to its absolute limit to chase us.

Oh, Harry... I intended to protect you—my Harry—from every danger.

Separated from Hagrid and Hermione, with Harry battered and bruised—how did we end up like this?

"Eek!"

"Maria!"

The Centaur finally stopped and tossed me into the air like a sack of potatoes. It was incredibly rough, perfect "cargo" treatment. Centaurs are isolationists, but they are supposed to be relatively polite neighbors in the Wizarding World.

I was caught by Harry, who slid under me just before I made contact with the dirt. Because of me, he was now covered in mud. We both looked up at the Centaurs in utter bewilderment. Bane looked down at us with eyes of absolute coldness, while Ronan seemed to be debating what to say to him.

"Look. The Unicorn," Bane announced in a prophetic tone.

As he said, just two trees away from where we had collapsed, lay a beautiful, fragile corpse of pearl. And then—

Harry and I watched 'it' in silence.

Slither. Slither.

A wretched, hooded figure approached the dead unicorn, dragging its robes across the ground. Slither. Squeltch. The repulsive sound grated against my ears so rudely that a chill ran through my entire body. I couldn't tell where my own trembling ended and Harry’s began.

The Centaurs just watched. They simply stood there. Watching the thing inside the robes... cruelly drinking the white blood of the unicorn.

It was a horrific sight. An innocent body being violated by something sinful. Flesh torn, life drained. Even in death, it was being shamed. How terrible, how frightening, how ugly... how pathetic.

More than terror, I felt a messy, scratching urge in my chest to scream out loud.

Is that how much you want to live?

Without knowing love, without being loved. Without even being allowed to beg for it.

Only the heart that screams "I want to live" is alive. That was the only 'purity' left within him.

"Maria..."

"Harry..."

We could only whisper while holding each other's hands, when suddenly Harry’s cry of pain echoed through the night forest. The cursed scar was agonizing him.

The figure in the robes noticed us. Slowly, with fingers dripping with silver blood scratching the earth, it turned.

During this, the Centaurs stood a short distance away, watching. Observing us, the carnage, the tragedy—the planets—with eyes of pure observation.

"Ma... ri... run..."

"No! Stupefy!"

My wand finally responded to the cry of my soul. But it was weak. The red flash was easily deflected by the hooded man. Harry, tormented by the pain in his forehead, couldn't move. And I, in the body of a young girl, didn't have the strength to carry a boy of the same age. Oh, if only I hadn't been so proud and had borrowed Draco’s wand!

As I bit my lip in regret, I remembered. I began frantically fumbling through Harry’s robes.

That's right—Harry has a wand!!

But before I could find the holly wand, the hooded shadow was looming over us, dark and ominous. There wasn't enough time.

"Expecto—"

It wasn't a rational decision. I think I just wanted something to cling to. I wanted something to exist here that could protect Harry in my stead. Reflexively, I tried to summon a Patronus with my cypress wand. But my voice failed.

Another shadow collided with the first. A Centaur. It wasn't Ronan or Bane. It was a younger Centaur than the two watching from afar. Under the overwhelming force of the impact, the hooded man was knocked back and vanished into the darkness as if sinking into it.

The brave Centaur watched the spot intensely. Then, he turned and barked at the spectating Bane and Ronan.

"Why did you not help! Do you not see who this is? This is the Potter child! This child is a Potter!"

"Centaurs do not work against the heavens," Bane replied coldly. "Our concern is the prophecy. Why did you not simply watch, Firenze?"

Firenze answered firmly. "Do you not sense the evil creeping into this forest? Do you not see that poor unicorn? Bane, I will take a stand. I will even join hands with humans if necessary. Even if you—if all of you—scorn me and say I have fallen to the level of a mule. Come, Potter child, Harry Potter. Mount my back. And you..."

"Firenze!" Bane reared up in a rage, his front hooves pawing the air.

With Harry on his back—Harry, who was blinking in confusion as his pain receded—and me clinging to his neck in an unstable position, the Centaur Firenze broke into a gallop. Bane and Ronan did not follow.

When we were far enough away, Firenze slowed to a walk and stopped. We slid off his back, supporting each other. Harry asked tentatively why he had helped them, worried that Firenze would get into trouble for breaking Centaur law.

But Firenze didn't answer Harry’s question. Instead, he asked if they knew the meaning of unicorn blood. Did they know what it meant to kill a unicorn? To "want to live" so badly that you would kill innocence and curse your own soul.

Realizing the true reason why 'that thing' sought the Philosopher's Stone, Harry turned so pale he looked ready to faint. All I could do was hold him.

"Maria... that thing... that was..."

"Harry. It’s okay. You’re not alone."

I spoke to the warmth in my arms. The Harry Potter of this world was not alone.

"You..."

Firenze looked at me again with that same look of bafflement. Bane and Ronan had the same eyes. Centaurs, who read the planets and decipher prophecies, looked confused.

"What are you? You are..."

"I am Maria Potter."

"Maria. A child of Potter? You...?"

His tone was strangely heavy with hidden meaning. Meeting Harry's green eyes, Firenze seemed to wait for more words to form.

"Maria... why are you... why are you so... cursed?"

"Eh?"

"You are so innocent, so guiltless... why are you cursed?"

"I... I am?"

"Maria isn't cursed!" Harry snapped, his protective brotherly instincts flaring as he stepped toward the Centaur.

Just then, the barking of a dog echoed through the woods. Fang. Behind the silhouette of the great dog appeared the even larger Hagrid and a gasping Hermione.

"Harry! Maria! Are you all right? What on earth..."

"Blimey. I should've set a signal for if we got lost. Sparks from the wand, like this."

"Hagrid," Firenze interrupted calmly, swinging his lamp. "The forest is dangerous now. The unicorn is over there. It is dead. Take Harry Potter and go back."

Firenze was far kinder than Ronan or Bane. At least he spoke in a way humans could understand.

"Good luck, Harry Potter. Even Centaurs have misread the planets before. I hope this is such a time. And Maria Potter..."

Firenze swallowed his next words. Without another syllable, the sage of the stars departed, his hooves echoing into the depths of the forest.

Left behind were just the two of us, trembling and holding hands as if to confirm each other's existence.

The next day, Maria Potter was being thoroughly and strictly scolded by Draco Malfoy.

"That is why! I told you! To take! My wand!"

"I have no defense..."

He poked my cheek with his wand, just as he used to do.

Look, Draco. I knew we might run into Quirrell-Voldemort, but I didn't think that weirdness would happen.

"If you knew your wand wasn't working, you should have grabbed any wand nearby! In this case, Harry’s! Why didn't you think of that immediately? What happened to that 'judgment' you were so proud of when you were Head of the Auror Office?"

"Hmm..." I actually had a thought about that. "I don't know... I just felt like Harry’s wand would be 'wrong' for me."

"Hah?"

"It's hard to explain... but I felt like I shouldn't touch it."

"It was your wand once, wasn't it?"

"Maybe that's why. Because it is Harry's wand now, I feel like I mustn't touch it."

"........."

Draco, seeing my slight seriousness, fell into a pensive silence, his porcelain-like face looking even more like a doll's. But it was likely a fruitless thought for him. This was a sensation only I, Maria, could understand. Draco, after all, had the same wand as his partner in both lives.

"...Fine. I shall let that matter rest," Draco said, crossing his arms while still holding his wand. "By the way... are you really cursed?"

"I'd like to know that myself..."

I let my shoulders slump exaggeratedly. To have this boy ask about something as sensitive as a 'curse' so nonchalantly... it took the wind out of my sails. I suppose Curses and Forbidden Arts are your specialty as a Slytherin, though.

"Typical Centaurs, they never tell you the 'what' or the 'where.' This is why I can't stand them."

"No, Draco, Firenze is actually quite kind for a Centaur. He even adjusts his speech for humans!"

A burst of laughter broke between us. I felt a small wave of relief as Draco laughed at my joke. We had been teasing each other, but in truth, Draco had been incredibly tense. He hadn't let go of his wand, and he seemed to catch on every detail of my report. I'm glad he finally smiled.

"All that's left is the Philosopher's Stone, Draco."

"Yeah."

We stood up as the breeze blew from the Great Lake. Even though spring had passed, I felt a lingering chill and instinctively clutched my robes. My fingers brushed against it—the feel of my cypress wand.

Harry and the others had found almost all the answers, except for the one fatal point regarding the culprit. When Dumbledore leaves Hogwarts... the battle with destiny will begin.