[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]

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  “Draco? Draco!”

  “Draco! Can you hear me?”

  Amanda called out several times, but the path behind her was silent, as if no one had ever been there.

  She looked toward the castle. Her heart tightened.

  Moonlight spread across the grass and the slope, and it became clear that only one figure was running toward the castle.

  Draco’s platinum-blond hair gleamed brightly in the darkness, while the hair of the person ahead blended seamlessly into the night.

  There was no doubt, it was Harry running toward the castle.

  Amanda looked back toward Hagrid’s hut, drew her wand, and ran back the way they had come.

  …

  Amanda’s leather shoes sank into the damp, muddy ground of the Forbidden Forest. She had only run a short distance when she realized something was wrong.

  At the edge of the path, bushes and weeds had been bent and flattened, and a long, fresh drag mark scarred the ground beside them.

  Something had dragged Draco away. The trail stretched deep into the Forbidden Forest.

  The moment she entered, it felt as though the outside world had shut a door behind her.

  This was an entirely different world; as soon as you stepped inside, all outside sounds vanished. She held her breath, but the forest was unnervingly silent.

  Amanda raised her wand. “Lumos.”

  A beam of pure white light burst from the tip, briefly illuminating the surroundings.

  She stepped over the tangled roots of an old oak and aimed her wand toward a dense cluster of trees.

  The drag marks stopped. Amanda tightened her grip on her wand.

  “Please don’t let it have been some savage beast, leaving nothing behind but bones when I find him.” she thought.

  “This is not a place you should be.”

  A male voice suddenly sounded not far behind her, startling Amanda, who was already on edge.

  She spun around. Not far away, a somber figure was watching her.

  Calling him a man wasn’t quite right. On closer inspection, she saw that his lower body was that of a reddish-brown horse, a long red tail trailing behind him.

  A centaur.

  “Excuse me,” Amanda asked hesitantly, “have you seen a boy with platinum-blond hair, possibly dragged along the ground?”

  Centaurs were never friendly toward wizards, so she held little hope. As expected, the centaur sighed and lifted his gaze to the sky.

  After a while, he said, “Mars is not very bright tonight.”

  “…”

  Centaurs were masters of divination and astronomy; he was likely reading some omen even now.

  She doubted he would offer any useful information.

  Amanda turned away, raised her wand, and scanned the area for more clues. A rustling came from the nearby undergrowth.

  Another centaur emerged from the forest. He had long, curly black hair and a powerful build.

  His reaction to her presence was openly hostile. Cautiously, he drew a longbow and aimed an arrow at her.

  “Where did you get the Philosopher’s Ring on your arm?”

  Amanda lifted her wand defensively. “It’s mine.”

  “Thief. Liar!” the black-haired centaur snarled. “You will pay for this…”

  “Bane, don’t be so rash.” The red-haired centaur was still gazing at the sky.

  “Ronan, didn’t you see it?”

  “I saw the constellations, lost for hundreds of years, return to their proper paths. The mysteries of the stars are endless…”

  Ronan’s voice was deep and melancholic.

  “I am a descendant of the Merlin family,” Amanda said calmly. “My name is Amanda Merlin.”

  She seemed to understand then, the black-haired centaur, Bane, had misunderstood something.

  “The Merlin family vanished long ago, you liar!” Bane didn’t believe her at all and raised his bow higher, aiming straight at her.

  “The Philosopher’s Ring would never acknowledge anyone outside the Merlin bloodline as its master.”

  Amanda raised her arm and illuminated it with her wand so Bane could see clearly.

  She believed the ring must have recognized its owner through blood ties; otherwise, it couldn’t have accepted such a simple password, or wrapped itself so tightly around her arm the moment she touched it.

  She still hadn’t found any way to remove it.

  Bane looked at Amanda with suspicion, carefully examining her arm. After a long moment, he slowly lowered his bow and arrow.

  “Very well. But this is truly strange, and I still cannot fully trust you.”

  Amanda let out a quiet breath of relief and asked, “Have you seen a boy with platinum-blond hair? He may have been dragged away by something.”

  Bane shook his head, then pointed in a direction.

  “There is blood over there.”

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  After thanking Bane, Amanda headed in the direction he indicated, her expression dark. She had only looked away from Draco for a moment, and now.

  Her grip tightened around her wand as she scanned the surroundings, her face pale. She hadn’t gone far before she saw droplets of blood scattered across the ground.

  But it wasn’t human blood. It was silver-white, gleaming like pearls in the darkness.

  Unicorn blood.

  Amanda exhaled in relief. At least it wasn’t Draco’s blood.

  But with so much blood on the ground, the unicorn might already be dead, and Draco was still missing.

  She extinguished the light at the tip of her wand, moved quietly, and followed the trail of silver droplets.

  A moment later, the bloodstains ended, but a soft hissing sound drifted from ahead. Gentle yet terrifying, chilling to the bone, with a faintly seductive undertone.

  Amanda stopped and hid behind a tree, watching the source of the sound. Ahead lay a small clearing.

  A beautiful white creature with long limbs lay on the ground, its coat glowing faintly in the darkness, a unicorn.

  It lay weakly on the forest floor, its abdomen rising and falling shallowly.

  Nearby, something else lay on the ground, something shaped like a hooded figure, crawling in a twisted, unnatural way.

  The creature writhed for a moment, then shifted aside, revealing what lay behind it.

  A head of platinum-blond hair, Draco.

  Amanda took a sharp breath. At that moment, the thing crawling on the ground moved toward Draco again.

  “Let me take a look at dear Lucius’s son…”

  Amanda was now certain, Voldemort was possessing Professor Quirrell.

  “I admire your father… Malfoy. A promising talent, just like him. Are you willing to serve me?”

  “Master, your judgment is always impeccable,” Quirrell’s voice echoed.

  “Follow me. Become my servant… I will lead you to taste the joy of glory, to crush the lives of all who stand against us… What, not a word? Look, look at that fearful gaze. I hear you’ve been drawing close to Merlin, who opposes me… Hmph…”

  “Master! We can use him to threaten that old fox Lucius and show him whom he truly serves!”

  Quirrell let out a sinister chuckle, his voice tinged with madness.

  At this moment, he barely stuttered at all, speaking far more smoothly than he ever did in the classroom.

  “Heh… not bad. Let Lucius see… who his true master is. Once I obtain the Philosopher’s Stone, right under Dumbledore’s nose, he’ll be finished. The old man’s time is over. I will proclaim it to the world…”

  “I have returned.”

  Voldemort slowly rose, circled Draco several times, then used the tip of his wand to poke Draco’s face.

  From a distance, Amanda could vaguely see the light at the tip of the wand illuminating Draco’s pale, terrified face.

  “Draco, prove your loyalty,” Voldemort said softly. “I’ll give you a task. Infiltrate Merlin’s side and find an opportunity to eliminate her.”

  He paused.

  “Oh, that’s right… I also have a diary.”

  “No, no, Master!” Quirrell said urgently. “That Merlin is far too cunning. What if she discovers the secret of the diary?”

  “Heh… a fair point,” Voldemort replied. “Very well. Then let this boy experience first… what happens if he betrays me.”

  “Yes, yes, Master.”

  Quirrell fumbled with his robes for a moment, then pulled a small vial of potion from the inner pocket of his cloak. Holding Draco with one hand and pinching his chin with the other, he forcibly poured the ghostly green liquid down Draco’s throat.

  The potion tasted unmistakably foul.

  “Cough, cough, cough… ugh…”

  Low, muffled retching sounds escaped Draco’s throat.

  The moment he was released, he clutched his chest in agony, choking violently before collapsing to the ground, still coughing uncontrollably.

  Voldemort let out a hoarse laugh.

  “Crucio!”

  Under the pale moonlight, Amanda watched Draco’s body convulse violently, rolling and twisting across the ground in a grotesque posture.

  Like a piece of meat thrown into a blazing furnace, he writhed and thrashed in invisible flames, his screams piercing and horrific.

  A chill ran through Amanda’s body, a metallic sweetness rising in her throat.

  “Calm down. Calm down.” She bit down hard on her lower lip.

  The pain, and the taste of blood, brought a sliver of clarity back to her mind. She licked the blood from her lips and quickly surveyed the terrain around her.

  Quirrell, or rather, Voldemort, paced nearby, hooded and observing, clearly savoring the spectacle as if it were a performance, laughing loudly.

  “Hahaha!!”

  “Do you understand now? This is what it feels like to betray me. Tsk… I really want Lucius to see this. What’s this, still not begging for mercy? Then perhaps you’d like to experience it again…”

  “Crucio!”

  “Aaaaaah!!!”

  Draco’s guttural scream echoed through the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

  Amanda inhaled sharply, her nails digging into her palms, oblivious to the blood seeping out. Using the darkness and the cover of the trees, she moved closer in complete silence.

  Draco’s torment seemed to have ended, for now. His screams faded, and he lay curled on the ground, motionless, as if lifeless.

  “Look at that boy… I think I’ll taste some unicorn blood,” Voldemort said casually.

  After giving the order, he walked toward the unicorn writhing in a pool of blood, bent down over its wound, and buried his head as if drinking deeply.

  Amanda stepped onto the damp, muddy leaves, advancing inch by inch, careful not to make a sound.

  She was still too far away to guarantee the spell’s accuracy. She needed to get closer.

  Fortunately, it had rained the night before. The ground was damp and soft, muting the sound of her footsteps.

  She wasn’t confident.

  Even though she was facing a severely weakened Voldemort. He still had a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at his side.

  She was only a first-year, barely a week into school, who knew very few spells, let alone how to fight a fully trained professor.

  She understood that the most rational choice would be to retreat immediately and return to the castle to inform the teachers of what had happened.

  But would that already be too late? She couldn’t just stand by and watch Draco be tortured into madness.

  While Voldemort was momentarily relaxed, lying on the ground drinking the unicorn’s blood, Amanda found a suitable position to strike.

  “Expelliarmus!”

  “Protego!”

  Quirrell raised his wand instantly to block, his posture grotesque with Voldemort still perched on the back of his head.

  “Who’s there?!” Quirrell shouted. “Master, someone’s here!”

  “Hmph… who dares disturb us now?”

  Voldemort rose swiftly and began swinging his wand, firing spells in all directions.

  Beams of green light shot toward Amanda’s position.

  The surprise attack failed. Amanda wasn’t surprised. After all, Quirrell now had eyes both in front and behind.

  That left only one option, she rolled across the ground to dodge the twin green flashes, then ducked behind a tree and cast another spell.

  “Incendio!”

  The spell wasn’t aimed at Voldemort, it struck the surrounding trees instead.

  Flames instantly climbed the thick vines, spreading rapidly and engulfing a wide area, fire leaping high into the air.

  “Damn it!” Quirrell cursed loudly.

  Amanda knew perfectly well that she stood almost no chance against Quirrell and Voldemort. Her plan was simply to stall for as long as possible and draw attention, both inside and outside the Forbidden Forest.

  She cast another fire spell nearby.

  The trees cracked and groaned, twisting grotesquely as the flames spread uncontrollably through the forest. In moments, the area around them was swallowed by fire.

  “Wait, where did they go?” she thought.

  A chilling laugh suddenly echoed above Amanda’s head.

  “Well, well… look who this is… Merlin.”

  A freezing sensation washed over her, as though she had fallen into an ice cellar.

  Voldemort’s pale, icy fingers grabbed her hair viciously, slammed her to the ground, and then crushed her left hand, the one holding her wand, beneath his foot.

  Agony exploded through her body. Her face drained of all color as she felt as though her hand had been ground to pulp.

  “To think I’d run into the famous Merlin here… I hear you oppose me?”

  “What a pity, what a pity… such a noble bloodline, such a distinguished Slytherin. Why not join me? Let us create glory together, share honor together…”

  Amanda struggled to keep her expression steady, her face contorted with pain.

  “It’s not i

  mpossible.” Voldemort seemed genuinely surprised by her answer.

  He tilted his head, considering her words for a tense moment, as though weighing their sincerity.

  But realization came swiftly.

  “Hmph, raising a tiger only invites future trouble.”

  “Let’s deal with your problem first.”

  ******

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