“This is Fang,” Hagrid said, indicating the dog.
The five of them set off into the woods.
“What could be killing unicorns?” Draco said after they’d walked for a few minutes. Draco knew a bit about Dark creatures, but he couldn’t remember anything that was said to prey on unicorns. “What sort of creature does that, does anyone know?” “Werewolves!” said Tracey.
“Miss Davis?” Draco said, and when she looked at him, he silently pointed a finger up at the moon. It was waxing gibbous, but not yet full.
“Oh, right,” said Tracey.
“No weres in the Forest,” said Hagrid. “They’re plain wizards most o’ the time, ’member. Couldn’t be wolves either, they’re not near fast enough ter catch a unicorn. Powerful magical creatures, unicorns are,
I never knew one ter be hurt before.”
Draco listened to this, thinking about the puzzle almost despite himself. “Then what is fast enough to catch a unicorn?”
“Wouldn’t ’ave been a matter of speed,” Hagrid said, giving Draco an indecipherable glance. “Ere’s no end ter the ways that creatures hunt. Poison, darkness, traps. Imps as can’t be seen or heard or remembered, even while they’re eatin’ yer face. Always summat new an’ wonderful to learn.” A cloud passed over the moon, casting the forest into shadow lit only by the glow of Hagrid’s umbrella.
“Meself,” Hagrid continued, “I think we might ’ave a Parisian hydra on our ’ands. They’re no threat to a wizard, yeh’ve just got to keep holdin’ ’em off long enough, and there’s no way yeh can lose. I mean literally no way yeh can lose so long’s yeh keep fightin’. Trouble is, against a Parisian hydra, most creatures give up long before. Takes a while to cut down all the heads, yeh see.”
“Bah,” said the foreign boy. “In Durmstrang we learn to fight Buchholz hydra. Unimaginably more tedious to fight! I mean literally, cannot imagine. First-years not believe us when we tell them winning is possible!
Instructor must give second order, iterate until they comprehend.”
They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees
were so thick.
Then Draco saw it, thick splashes on the roots of trees, gleaming a brighter color beneath the moonlight. “Is that—”
“Unicorn’s blood,” Hagrid said. The huge man’s voice was sad.
In a clearing ahead, visible through the tangled branches of a great oak, they saw the fallen creature, splayed beautiful and sad upon the ground, the dirt around her shining moon-silver with pooled blood. The unicorn was not white, but pale blue, or appearing so beneath the moon and night sky. Her slender legs stuck out at odd angles, obviously broken, and her mane spread across the dark leaves, green-black but with a sheen like pearls. On her flank was a small white shape like a starburst, a center surrounded by eight straight rays. Half her side had been ripped away, the edges ragged like the marks of teeth, bones and inner organs exposed.
A strange choking sensation rose in Draco’s throat.
“That’s ’er,” Hagrid said, his sad whisper as loud as a normal man’s voice. “Just where I found ’er this mornin’, dead as a dead doorknob. She is—was—the first unicorn I e’er met in these woods. I called ’er Alicorn, not that it matters ter ’er any more, I s’pose.”
“You named a unicorn Alicorn,” said the older girl. Her voice was a bit dry.
“But she doesn’t have wings,” Tracey said.
“An alicorn’s a unicorn’s horn,” Hagrid said, now louder. “Don’t know where yeh all started thinking it meant a unicorn with wings, ’ere’s no such thing I ever heard. It’s just like naming a dog Fang,” indicating the huge wolf-like dog that barely came to his knees. “What’d you have called ’er? Hannah, or some such? I gave ’er a name as would’ve meant summat ter ’er. Common courtesy, I call it.”
Nobody said anything to this, and after a further moment, the huge man gave a sharp nod. “We’ll start our search from ’ere, the last place it struck. We’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. Yeh two, Walt and Yuliy—yeh’ll go that way, and take Fang. There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with Fang. Send up green sparks if yeh find summat interestin’, an’ send up red sparks if anyone gets in trouble. Davis, Malfoy, with me.”
The Forest was black and silent. Rubeus Hagrid had dimmed the light of his umbrella after they’d set out, so that Draco and Tracey had to steer themselves by the light of the moon, not without occasional trips and falls. They walked past a mossy tree-stump, the sound of running water speaking of a stream somewhere close by. Now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver blue blood on the fallen leaves; they were following the trail of blood, toward where the creature must have first struck the unicorn.
“There’s rumors about yeh,” Hagrid said in a low voice after they’d walked for a while.
“Well, they’re all true,” Tracey said. “All of them.”
“Not yeh,” Hagrid said. “Did yeh really testify under Veritaserum that yeh tried to help Miss Granger, three times it was?”
Draco weighed his words for a while, and finally said, “Yes.” It wouldn’t have done to appear too eager to claim credit.
The huge man shook his head, his great feet still stomping silently through the woods. “I’m surprised, teh be honest. And yeh too, Davis, tryin’ to put the halls in order. Are yeh sure the Sorting Hat put yeh in the right place? There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin, so it’s always been said.”
“That’s not true,” Tracey said. “What about Xiaonan Tong the Black
Raven, Spencer of the Hill, and Mister Kayvon?” “Who?” said Hagrid.
“Just some of the best Dark Wizards from the last two centuries,” Tracey said. “They’re probably the best from Hogwarts who weren’t from Slytherin.” Her voice fell, lost its enthusiasm. “Miss Granger always told me I should read up on anything I—”
“Anyway,”Draco said quickly, “that’s not really relevant, Mr. Hagrid. Even if—” Draco worked it around in his head, trying to translate the difference between probability of Slytherin given Dark and probability of Dark given Slytherin into nonscientific language. “Even if most Dark Wizards are from Slytherin, very few Slytherins are Dark Wizards. There aren’t all that many Dark Wizards, so not all Slytherins can be one.” Or as Father had said, while any Malfoy should certainly know much of the secret lore, the more… costly rituals were better left to useful fools like Amycus Carrow.
“So yeh’re saying,” Hagrid said, “that most Dark Wizards are Slytherins… but…”
“But most Slytherins are not Dark Wizards,” Draco said. He had a weary feeling they’d be at this a while, but like fighting a hydra, the important thing was to not give up.
“I never thought of it that way,” the huge man said, sounding awestruck. “But, well, if yeh’re not all a house of snakes, then why—get behind that tree!”
Hagrid seized Draco and Tracey and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out a bolt and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.