Filch led them all outside into the courtyard, a nasty sneer upon his face. Just then Hagrid came stomping up the path, armed with a crossbow, quarrels, and a large hunting knife in his boot. Said knife would have been a short sword for a normal human. Fang trotted along by his side, panting gruffly.

"Took ya long enough, Filch," Hagrid grunted as he halted in front of them. "I bin waitin' most half an hour. What kept ya?"

"I was telling these little brats about what they could expect in the forest," said the caretaker.

"Bin lecturing them have ya?" Hagrid scowled. "That's not yer place, Argus."

"Somebody has to put the fear of God into these brats, Hagrid. The teachers, even Snape, are too soft on them. They need to be shaking in their boots—"

"Argus, do yerself a favor and just mind yer own business." Hagrid told him.

"I'll be back at dawn," Filch snorted, adding nastily, "for what's left of you." He then stalked back into the castle.

"Come along, you lot," Hagrid ordered. "First we'll go to my place, get some lanterns, then we'll go into the forest."

They followed him meekly down the path to his hut, and waited while he retrieved three stout oil lanterns from a shelf in his hut. He handed one to Ron, and another to Hermione.

"This way," he gestured with one large hand towards the track leading into the woods.

Neville gulped and murmured, "How come we're going in here when it's dangerous? Why couldn't McGonagall make us write lines or something like that? I . . . don't want to go in there."

"Buck up, Longbottom. Yeh aren't supposed to like getting' punished. Yeh done wrong an' now yeh got to pay the piper. Now quit yer complainin', hear? Writing lines! Bah! What good's that goin' ta do ya? Yer t'come with me an' help me find an' injured unicorn. One's bin hurt pretty bad, bleedin' all over, an' now I got to find it and maybe put it out o' its misery. Yeh wanted to help wild critters, well now's yer chance. McGonagall thought this would teach ya responsibility, show ya that sometimes the best thing ya can do fer an injured critter is t' put it down. It's a hard lesson, but necessary."

As he lectured, Hagrid led them right into the forest. Once over the border and into the woods, he halted and said, "Listen close. The unicorn's in a bad way, that's why we got to help it, however we can. I'm gonna divide us up into two groups. Firs' one's gonna be me, Hermione, and Malfoy. The other's gonna be Harry, Ron, and Neville. Harry, you can take Fang."

Harry took the big dog's lead, glancing about warily. He disliked the dark, always had, since his poor vision caused him night blindness. Not only that, but there was a . . . sinister feeling about these woods. Harry shuddered slightly, he did not want to find out what lived in their depths, but could not stop thinking about the many dangerous creatures that dwelled within the forest. For some reason, he kept recalling two lines from Robert Frost's poem Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening. Severus had read him a few of the poems in the leather bound book Harry had given him. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep . . . Harry couldn't say the woods were lovely, but they certainly were dark and deep. He also had a promise to keep, made to Severus, to accept his punishment and behave himself. And he had a feeling that before the night was through, he would have miles to go before he slept.

He squatted down beside his friends while Hagrid showed them the silvery liquid splashed upon the ground which was unicorn blood. It reminded him of liquid mercury.

"Now, if ya find the unicorn, send up green sparks. If ya find sommat else, or run into trouble, send up red sparks." Hagrid instructed. "Practice it now, so's ya know how."

They all practiced the simple charm, until Hagrid said it was enough and sent Harry, Fang, Neville, and Ron off down the right hand path. Then he turned and went down the right fork trailed by Hermione and Draco.

Because Ron had the lantern, he led the way, trying to follow the scattered droplets of blood. Harry, Fang, and Neville stuck close behind him. As they crept through the eerie forest, listening as best they could to the myriad insects, night birds, and owls, Harry was reminded of the jungle in Kipling's The Jungle Book. Dark and mysterious, it had been, and like the Forbidden Forest, unkind to small boys. Harry suddenly wished he had Bagheera the panther or Baloo the bear walking beside him. Then he would feel safe and protected. He gripped his wand tighter. He had the oddest feeling that something . . . or someone . . . was following him.

But each time he glanced back, the trail behind him was empty.

Harry felt the back of his neck prickle warningly. But he stared straight ahead, trying to pick out the spots of unicorn blood, pretending he was Mowgli trailing an injured water buffalo, and wishing the night was shorter. Fang pulled on his lead, causing Harry to stumble.

He banged into Neville, who squeaked loudly and jumped about a foot. "Merlin! Harry! You almost scared me to death."

"Sorry," Harry apologized. He flushed, thinking that Bagheera would have cuffed him a good one for being so clumsy. Mowgli wouldn't have been.

"Shh, you two!" Ron hissed. "I thought I heard something."

"Where? Where?" Neville babbled, turning around in a panic.

"I don't know!" Ron cried. "Quit spinning like a top!" He reached out and grabbed the back of Neville's robes.

Neville, thinking some monster had grabbed him in the dark, screamed and shot up red sparks from his wand.

"What did you do that for?" asked Ron irritably.

"I didn't mean to, Ron. But you scared me. I thought it was a . . . a bugbear or an orc." Neville hung his head. "I'm sorry I'm such a coward."

"You're not," Harry reassured him. "This forest is creepy and I won't blame you for being afraid."

"Me neither," Ron said. The moon cast a pale shadow over his face, making his complexion ghost white.

Just then Hagrid crashed through the brush. "What's wrong? Ya all right?"

"Yeah. It was a false alarm," Ron said. "I grabbed Neville by mistake and he thought I was something else and shot up sparks."

"Humph! Next time be careful." Hagrid scolded. "An' remember to stay on the path, otherwise a manticore might think you're a midnight snack."

Then the gamekeeper turned and headed back towards Hermione and Draco.

Fang looked after his master and whined.

Harry patted the big dog's head. "Easy, boy. You won't have to be separated from Hagrid for too much longer. Just be patient."

Ron huffed. "Harry, quit talking to that dumb dog and concentrate on tracking the unicorn."

Harry was about to say something snide, but just then an idea struck him. "Hey, Fang could track down somebody. Why don't we let him try and track the unicorn?"

"That's a brilliant idea, Harry!" exclaimed Neville.

Harry grinned. "The sooner we find the poor unicorn, the better." He stroked Fang then said sharply, "Fang, trail! Trail the poor creature down." He pointed at the silvery unicorn blood.

Fang obediently sniffed the blood and barked once. His tail wagged, thwacking Harry's leg.

"Good boy," Harry said. "Go and find the unicorn, Fang," he urged. "Find it!" He prayed the dog could understand what he wanted. Fang was a boarhound, and all dogs could smell a trail better than people, Harry reasoned. Fang had been in the forest before, Hagrid hunted with the dog a lot, and Harry was almost certain the dog could track their quarry. He wondered why Hagrid had not thought to use the dog before, then shrugged. Sometimes people missed what was right under their noses. Skull had told him once that most people thought animals were stupid compared to humans. Dumb beasts, and the raven had hissed in outrage as he spoke the words. Harry knew better, though. For years, he had been friends with stray dogs and Mrs. Figgs cats. Any of them were smarter than Dudley.

He repeated the command to the dog, who whined and sniffed the ground obediently.

"Harry, for heaven's sake!" Ron said exasperatedly. "Fang's a stupid dog, he doesn't even know what you're saying. And he's a coward, Hagrid even admits that."

"No, he's not, Ron." Harry disagreed. "He's smarter than any of you think. See?" He indicated where the dog was smelling and now straining at the lead. "I think he's got the scent. Go, boy! Find it!" Fang barked, and danced eagerly at the end of the lead. "Atta boy!"

Harry took two steps forward and Fang trotted away, pulling the small boy along. "C'mon, Ron and Neville! He's taking me somewhere."

"Yeah, on a wild Snark hunt," Ron snorted, but he followed his friend and Fang.

"Maybe Harry's right," Neville remarked, though he looked uncertain. "Anything's better than standing here."

Harry jogged after the eager dog, thinking, Ha! I knew it! Fang's no dummy. He can track better than we can. He grinned as he raced after the boarhound. Miles to go before I sleep. Maybe so, Mr. Frost, but at least we'll find the poor unicorn before this night is over.

Little did he know they would find more than just the unicorn. Behind him, the wind picked up, gusting through the trees eerily. Ron and Neville scurried along after Harry, their clumsy footfalls masking the presence of the watcher in the shadows, who trailed them noiselessly.

Meanwhile, Draco and Hermione walked briskly after Hagrid, their wands lit so they could see the path before them. The big man seemed unafraid of being in the forest at night, he seemed comfortable within the great trees. In contrast, Draco and Hermione started at the smallest sound and nearly jumped out of their skin when an owl hooted close by. The trail of silvery blood glinted in the moonlight like a metallic ribbon, and Hagrid followed it almost without effort.

"Poor beast. Sommat got ya good." He murmured.

"Do you think it was a werewolf?" asked Draco.

"Could be. Then again, most werewolves avoid unicorns like the plague. Their horns can hurt 'em, see? A unicorn's horn is proof against all poisons, can heal any wound short of death, an' is purer than silver."

"Well, if it wasn't a werewolf, then what did this?" asked Hermione. "What sort of creature would dare harm a unicorn?"

"A mad one," Draco muttered. "Everyone knows that killing a unicorn brings a curse down on you."

"A curse?"

"Aye, lass. Y'see, a unicorn is the purest magical creature there is, an' killing one an' drinking its blood will give you a kind of immortality, but it's one that dooms ya to a half-life. As soon as a drop of blood passes yer lips, yer cursed forever. 'Course sommat like that might not matter to . . . to one who only wants a body an'doesn't about his soul or . . . ya know what I mean?"

Hermione and Draco swallowed hard and nodded. Then the girl said, very softly, "Then you think that . . . You-Know-Who is . . . behind the death of the unicorns?"

Hagrid heaved a sigh. "'Tis possible, girl. I think his body died that night, but whatever passes for a soul inside him didn't. Somehow, he's found a way to come back. Guess it don't matter much how or why, only that he can be stopped."

"Stopped how?" Draco asked. "Anyone who can cheat death like that . . ."

"There's got to be a way. I don't know it, but maybe Dumbledore might. Or even Professor Snape."

Draco was betting on Snape, after all Dumbledore had fumbled the Snitch several times when it came to getting rid of the Dark Lord, and the blond boy doubted the old man would come through this time.

"Or maybe Madam Pince might have known," declared Hermione suddenly.

"Madam Pince?"Draco stared at her.

"Well, yes! She's a member of the Society of Ravens, she must know a lot of old magic, Maybe that's why someone tried to kill her. Because she knew too much. Really, Malfoy, it's a common motive for murder." The brown-haired girl stated.

"Ya could be right, Hermione." Hagrid nodded.

There came a crackling sound in the brush up ahead. Before the two students could do anything, Hagrid had grabbed them and put them behind a tree. "Quiet! Not a sound!" he ordered, drawing his crossbow. "Come out, whoever ya are! I've got a quarrel trained right at ya."

There came the sound of hoofbeats and then a large half-man and half-horse emerged from the brush, brandishing a spear. The centaur had long reddish blond hair that flowed down his back, and his horse coat was the same color, save for a white blanket across his hindquarters, dappled with brown spots. His tail slapped against his hooves and he eyed Hagrid sternly.

Hagrid lowered his crossbow. "Oh, it's you, Ronan."

The centaur tossed his head. "What brings you here at this hour, Hagrid?"

"Me and my students—ya can come out now Draco an' Hermione—are tracking an injured unicorn. Have ya seen one like that anywheres?"

"Mars is bright tonight," answered the centaur, his eyes fixed upon the heavens. "It signals a battle or something violent. Not a good sign. You ought to take your students and leave, Hagrid. The forest is not safe tonight."

"'Fraid I can't do that. The unicorn's mortal hurt, least I can do is put an' end to its suffering."

Ronan sighed. "As always, the choice is yours. It's a terrible thing to witness, the death of innocence. They are always the first to fall." Then the centaur saluted him and turned away. He galloped off, his hooves making the ground tremble.

Hagrid turned to face Draco and Hermione. "Well, guess that's that. Most centaurs never give yeh a straight answer. I think it went this way . . ."

Before he could continue down the path, there came a bloodcurdling scream from the right.

Hermione felt her heart seize. "Harry! Something's happened to him!"

Hagrid nodded. "Stay here! I'm goin' t'see what's wrong."

He took three giant strides and disappeared through the trees.

Pale and shaken, Hermione clung to Draco's hand, and to her surprise he didn't sneer at her, but clutched her fingers tightly.

Page~*~*~*~Break

Fang led the boys right to the dead unicorn. Panting triumphantly, Fang sprawled on Harry's feet after bringing them to where the unicorn lay, a crumpled delicate ivory creature, broken and bleeding all over.

The sight brought tears to Harry's eyes. The unicorn was among the worst sights he'd ever seen, being second only to his mother dying. It struck a chord within him and for a few moments he could only stand and stare at the beast and wish he could make it live again. It wasn't fair that such a magnificent creature should be dead, never to run across the grass and chase the wind ever again. Behind him he heard Neville sniffle and even Ron groaned.

Harry found himself becoming angry as well, that anyone could destroy something so . . . innocent and wild. He stared at the limp form hard, and thought he saw it move slightly. He thrust Fang's lead at Ron and started to move closer . . . he just needed to make sure . . .

Suddenly there came a sharp snapping sound, as of twigs breaking, and Harry froze, his eyes darting back and forth. From out of the brush on the opposite side came a hunched figure in a black cloak. It scuttled across the ground and seized the dead unicorn by the neck.

A ghostly face with bright red lips and long fangs lifted towards them for an instant, then it lowered its head and began to feed, silvery streams of blood trickling down its chin.

The boys watched, transfixed in horror, unable to look away.

The miasma of evil flowed over and about them, freezing them to the spot, as the sickening horror of the deed was replayed in their minds, branded forever into their consciousness.

Harry could feel his heart racing as he screamed silently. No! It's my dream! My dream has come true! There's a vampire and it's . . .feeding upon the unicorn.

As if feeling eyes upon it, the vampire raised its head . . . and the cold black eyes met Harry's.

Three things happened then.

Harry felt his scar explode in pain, and he screamed and fell to his knees, feeling as if his head were about to split open.

Fang let out a terrible howl, filled with sheer terror, and took off through the trees back the way they had come, dragging Ron along with him.

Neville let out a wail that could have put a banshee to shame, but was too paralyzed to move.

The scream jerked Harry back to himself, allowing him to conquer the pain and he yelled, "Run, Neville! Get out of here! Run!"

Harry's desperate order broke the stalemate, and Neville gathered up what remained of his courage and bolted.

Only Harry remained, stricken and trembling, as the vampire bared its fangs and hissed at him. It started to get to its feet, its flesh gleaming moon bright with the unicorn's stolen vitality. Harry knew he was finished. This time it wasn't a dream, and he could not wake up. And there was no Severus or Skullduggery to save him. This time he would die.

Suddenly there came a blinding flash of reddish light. At the same instant, Harry felt a sharp blow on the back of the head. Then he was falling . . .falling a long long way into blackness. Severus, help me! was his last coherent thought before he surrendered to the suffocating darkness.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

Sometime later:

His eyelids fluttered, fragile as a moth's wings, then opened slowly. He squinted in pain at the light, why was it so bright? He blinked hard, lifted his hand to dash away the tears. He did not know, for one awful moment, who he was or even where he was. Then memory hit with a rush. He was Harry Potter and he had almost been killed by . . . a vampire. . .

He made a brief attempt to sit up, but the pain in his head was too much and he could barely move his head off the pillow.

"Ah, so you're awake," murmured an unfamiliar voice.

Footsteps, light and even, caused him to turn his head. Through blurry eyes he caught a glimpse of a tall figure wearing a midnight blue robe and a flash of pale hair. He squinted, realizing only now that he was lying on something soft . . . a mattress . . . and the light came from a lamp upon the table next to his bed. "Who . . . are you?"

There came a soft chuckle, then the blurry figure leaned over him and held out an object.

His glasses.

As he groped for them, the blue figure spoke. "Don't you remember me, Harry? No? Well, it has been a long time."

Harry slipped his glasses on over his nose, his green eyes lifting to see the figure hovering over him. "Who are you, and where am I?"

A deep hood shrouded the figure's face, all save for a lone lock of bright gold hair. But he knew from the sound of the voice that this person was not familiar and that this was a woman. Slender hands came up to grasp the hood and toss it back, then the stranger smiled and cooed, "Why, child, don't be afraid. You're home where you belong. I am the Fifth Marauder . . . your godmother."