Hagrid, who hadn’t noticed the tense atmosphere, gave Harry a supportive clap on his shoulder, which made him almost fall over, and showed him a big grin as if to say that he was lucky that he could spend his detention with him.
Snape, on the other hand, took the lead and grumbled that they should hurry and get over it as soon as possible.
Malfoy ranted the whole way, saying that his father would hear about it and that this is something you hire specialized personnel for. One of the rare instances where Atlas had to agree with him. This detention was unusual, even within Hogwarts. No matter how Hagrid emphasized that detention should be used to do something useful for the school, it was always without danger. Normal detention could entail something like helping Filch, cleaning cauldrons for Snape, and the like, which would be in line with what Hagrid said. Sending students into the forbidden forest and risking serious harm or even their lives was not within these boundaries.
Atlas thought it was most likely that Dumbledore made the decision to send them there. Dumbledore probably knew that it was Voldemort that had hunted the unicorns and wanted to either test Harry against Voldemort inside the forest or just bring it to Harry’s attention that Voldemort is preparing a comeback. The only question Atlas had was why he had decided to send competent teachers with him instead of just sending Hagrid like in the original. Was it really Snape that had suggested it, and Dumbledore had no reasonable explanation as to why they shouldn’t do it that way? Was it the pressure of the school governors, or was it that Dumbledore was scared something would happen to Harry since Voldemort was acting so confident?
When Malfoy asked if there were werewolves inside the forest, the group of students flinched, and even Crabbe and Goyle looked a little scared. Hermione, despite all their training, also gripped his hand hard and looked worried. Her worry made him realize that he might have neglected the other dangers of the forest. He wasn’t particularly scared about werewolves, as it wasn't a full moon, but a swarm of acromantulas wasn’t something he felt capable of fending off while also protecting the others. It made him particularly happy that he was in Hagrid’s group, as it would decrease the chances that they would attack them. Even though he believed that nothing in this forest would pose a great risk to Professor Scamander. He had seen the beasts he keeps in his suitcase and thought that even if he was attacked, as soon as he would release the two griffins or the erumpent bull, everything in this forest would try to escape instead of fighting.
An Erumpent
hQcsmYA.jpg [https://imgur.com/hQcsmYA.jpg]
They soon reached Hagrid’s hut, where he took his giant crossbow, with bolts so big that Atlas wasn’t sure that a simple protection spell could block them. Atlas also saw him pack his pink umbrella into his bag, where he had placed his bolts, before returning with Fang to the group.
He tried to speak a few encouraging words before explaining how to behave in case they are in danger or what signal to send in case they find the unicorn. Then the groups split up.
The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead of Atlas and his group, its twisted trees reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. The moon's feeble light barely pierced the thick canopy, casting eerie shadows that danced across the forest floor. A chilling wind rustled through the leaves as they entered the forest, the ground beneath their feet softened by a carpet of damp moss and fallen leaves.
Hagrid led the way, his lantern swinging in the darkness. His bearded face was etched with concern, his eyes darting nervously from tree to tree. "Now, remember, we've got to be careful. The forest ain't like any other place in Hogwarts," he muttered, his voice hushed.
Harry's grip on his wand tightened as they ventured deeper, his heart pounding in his chest. Hermione held onto Atlas's arm, her fingers seeking reassurance from his presence.
Professor Snape, trailing at the back of the group, exuded an air of irritation and impatience. His black cloak billowed behind him as he strode along, his lips pressed into a thin line. Atlas saw him shot Harry occasional glances that held a mix of disdain and something deeper—concern, perhaps? The thoughts quickly vanished as Snape started to blame Harry for breathing too loudly.
At least that’s what he thought until Professor Snape pointed his wand hastily around and, shooting a red bolt into the forest, blasted away half the trunk of a tree that was twice as thick as Hagrid.
“Stop it, Severus. That’s a centaur.” jumped Hagrid in before he could fire another spell.
A few seconds later, a centaur appeared with an arrow pointed at Snape.
“How dare you attack me inside Centaur territory?” said the centaur, anger visible all over his face.
“Firence, this is a misunderstanding. Please calm down.” Said Hagrid. “Severus, put your wand down. The others too.”
Snape looked at Hagrid to see if he had completely lost his mind. But before he answered, he turned his eyes to the centaur, looking him deep into the eyes. He then put down his wand, just low enough that it didn’t look like he wanted to fight anymore.
The anger on Firence’s face lessened, but he continued to point his bow at Snape. “Explain!”
Hagrid proceeded to explain the situation to Firence and managed to calm him down. He even tried to get Firence to help them, but Firence declined.
Shortly after, they reached the spot where Hagrid had first found the traces of the second wounded unicorn. He showed the group the silvery blood that was on the bush and a few drops that were sprinkled around. He then explained that he had followed the traces the previous time but lost them two miles further away. As unicorns are incredibly fast, the blood traces are far away from each other. Professor Ward would search in the place where the blood traces lead, while they would search the surroundings of this place, as this was the place where the unicorn was in the first place.
They wandered the area for a few hours and even found a few drops of silvery blood, but they weren’t going to a concrete direction. Even Fang was unable to trace where the unicorn went to. Atlas was always tensed every time they entered a new clearing, but the unicorn was nowhere to be found.
After another hour Harry spotted, to Atlas surprise, the unicorn near a small lake.
Hagrid quickly ran towards the unicorn, only to realize that it was already dead. A shiver danced down their spines as they beheld the haunting tableau: the unicorn's form sprawled on the earth, bathed in moonlight, surrounded by an eerie aura of death. A pool of vibrant silver stained the ground beneath it, a stark contrast to the serene waters of the lake, mingling together to create a macabre tapestry of metallic hues.
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They shot a spell in the sky to signal to the others that they had found it, before Hagrid started to look closer at the wounds to find out what managed to kill it.
Atlas was a bit relieved that he didn’t have to meet Voldemort and that they were apparently too late to interrupt Quirrell. Just as he turned around, he saw several dark, cloaked figures barely ten meters away from them with their wands pointed at them.
The air crackled with malevolent energy as spells erupted from the attackers' wands. The green flash of the Killing Curse streaked toward Hagrid. Reacting on pure instinct, Atlas hurled a shock spell, meeting the curse head-on in a burst of violet light that shattered the night. Their adversaries were momentarily stunned by the unexpected retaliation, providing Snape an opening to counterattack. The battleground ignited as spells collided, painting the scene with trails of vivid magic.
Snape's spells joined the fray, weaving through the chaos like threads of death. Harry, Hermione, and Neville fought to shield themselves, firing back spells when they could. In a desperate plea for assistance, Snape's spell burst into the sky, its crimson flare like a beacon summoning reinforcements.
Atlas intercepted another spell when he saw another dark figure a few feet behind the attackers. Awe-stricken horror held them captive as a monstrous form emerged from the mans wand: a creature born of flames and fueled by malice, a basilisk made of fiendfire. Its fiery, writhing mass cast an eerie glow, turning the once serene forest into a realm of inferno.
The basilisk's very presence ignited the surroundings, incinerating leaves and causing the trees to crack and smoke. Ignoring the cataclysmic beast that had been summoned, the attackers pressed on, relentless in their assault, even as the basilisk surged forth, incinerating one of their own.
Atlas' heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation. The basilisk's fiery form was a menace beyond reckoning, and Snape's calculated tactics faltered in the face of its might and their group had to dodge in all directions to avoid its attack. In the midst of the chaos, he turned to Hermione, his voice a fierce command amid the tumult. "Hermione, we need to get out of here, now!"
Paralyzed by shock, Hermione witnessed Neville's brutal collision with a tree. Her petrification ended when Atlas grabbed her arm to pull her away, but the basilisk was targeting them.
The dark figure that had summoned the fiendfire basilisk, probably Voldemort himself, engaged Snape. Within moments of spells clashing, it became apparent that the figure was only playing with Snape, as his lackeys were taking care of them.
Atlas didn’t have more time to spectate their fight as the basilisk's gaze zeroed in. With a swift jump, they dodged the serpent's infernal advance, his mind racing as he sought an advantage. Spells erupted, but the fiendfire was unaffected by everything Atlas threw at it.
He quickly got up and wanted to get some distance between himself and the snake while it was preparing for another attack. But the snake aimed its next attack at Hermione, who was a bit slower than him.
When he saw the snake lunch itself on Hermione, his mind raced for ways to save her. Time seemed to slow as he thought about ways to save her, but blocking the snake was impossible.
He casted ascendio to flung himself and Hermione into the nearby lake, shielding her fragile form with his own against the fiery onslaught. The basilisk had barely managed to sear him. At least that’s what he thought until he saw the silvery water turning red. The pain on his back was so intense that he felt his consciousness fading, but all he cared about was that Hermione was fine. In that moment, the multiverse didn’t matter; the future of this world didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered to him was that she would be able to live. As his vision turned black, the last thing he saw was Hermione’s devastated face, with air bubbles coming out of her mouth as she wanted to scream and cry in agony.
The next thing he remembered was that his awareness gradually dawned, like emerging from a dense fog. He found himself in the infirmary, the sound of hushed voices forming a backdrop to his consciousness. The words of Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey melded into dissonant sounds as his grip on wakefulness faltered, slipping away like sand through his fingers.
After an uncertain amount of time, he woke up again, the boundaries of reality sharpening into focus. Agony clawed at his senses, a brutal reminder that he was alive. His back throbbed in pain, and he gritted his teeth to stifle the scream that threatened to escape. Madam Pomfrey worked over him, her wand slicing through the dead, burned flesh with a precision that brought fresh waves of pain, igniting a scream that ripped from his lips—a raw expression of suffering.
"Sorry... pain... something..." Madam Pomfrey's words were fragments, pieces of a puzzle he couldn't assemble. And then, a blessed numbness settled over him, the medicine she gave him sweeping him away from the torment.
Reality and time seemed to blur, and Atlas regained consciousness in fits and starts. His body felt alien, disconnected, as if each movement sent shockwaves of pain radiating through him. He struggled to form coherent thoughts, his mind a tangled web of confusion and discomfort, but without the pain and the ability to do anything, he began to calm down. He then remembered what had happened and immediately tried to ask Madam Pomfrey, “wht hppnd to Hmine? Is sh fne?”
His body was so numb that he was barely able to speak anything, but Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand him anyway.
“Your girlfriend is fine. She is in the bed next to you, but I have given her something to help her sleep. You don’t have to worry about anything for now. Just stay still until your wounds are healed. The headmaster will explain everything to you after that. I’m already halfway finished with removing your burned flesh and applying the ointment to regrow the flesh and skin. Even the charred bones are already healed. It’s honestly a wonder you have made it, if you ask me. But now that you are in my care, you will be fine within a few days. If you want to, I can even help you remove the scars afterwards.” explained Madam Pomfey while removing another piece of burned flesh with a spell he identified as the Decutare charm his mom always used to cut his hair.
Knowing that Hermione was in the bed beside him, he wanted to turn his head but failed to do so. Seeing his plight, Madam Pomfrey helped him and even opened the curtain around Hermione’s bed so that he could see her.
Her hair was a bit singed, but overall, she looked like she was sleeping peacefully.
Seeing her sleep like that, he realized that he had risked his life, his mission, and the multiverse to save her. Sure, it was in the heat of the moment, but he had, without thinking it through, risked everything for her. Something he always thought he would hesitate to do if he had time to think about it. He had spent the last few weeks finding a way to save her without risking his life, but the search was as fruitless as it could be. No one had even noticed the imprint that would prevent someone from leaving or entering a universe, much less manipulating it. The only possibility that could potentially work was making her his horcrux. The only problem was that he would die if it failed. But after having risked his life, not to have a chance to live together with her but just for her to live, he realized that he would regret it for all his lifes if he didn’t try it.
He spent a few more hours just staring at the sleeping Hermione while Madam Pomfrey was treating his burns, when he began to ask himself why he was even alive. They were heavily outmatched, and the whole scenario was obviously a trap for them. Otherwise, Voldemort would have faced them alone instead of bringing a few Lakeys to ambush him. But how could he have known, and why did he fail? Was Scamander fast enough to save them? Was Scamander powerful enough to fight Voldemort and his lackeys off? The last few questions would probably be answered as soon as he could talk to Dumbledore, but the first question was the one that was really important. The only thing he could think of was that Ethan had told Voldemort about the original story so that he could prepare an ambush. Quirrell, on the other hand, looked genuinely ill, and if Voldemort had known about the future, then he would already have tried to steal the stone. So why hadn’t he done so until now?
The next time he awoke, he saw that Hermione was sitting at his bed, sleeping with her head close to his instead of lying in her own bed. The numb feeling he had was gone, and he was able to move again. He wanted to turn around on his back, but the pain that shot through his limbs signaled to him that it was too soon for that. He instead moved his hand to pet Hermione’s head to wake her up. The moment he touched her head, she instantly woke up and immediately started to hug him. He ignored the pain he felt from her touch and tried to return her hug, but the pain only intensified as he wanted to move. His muscles hadn’t fully recovered yet.
Hermione gave him a deep kiss, and Atlas could feel her tears reach his lips.
“I love you.” whispered Atlas as their lips separated, and it never felt so true as in this moment.
“I love you too.” whispered Hermione back and kissed him again.
And then, as if summoned by their shared emotions, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey emerged, and for the first time, he met Dumbledore’s blue eyes that stared directly into his.