The Forbidden Forest
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Listening to Hermione's narration, Artel's expression gradually brightened. He had initially assumed that Hermione and the others would face a maximum deduction of 30 points, but Professor McGonagall's strictness caught him by surprise. Each student lost a whopping 50 points!
This time, it was a deduction of one hundred and fifty points, and Gryffindor's score took a significant hit. Winning the Academy Cup seemed almost impossible now, and Artel couldn't imagine the consequences if they didn't secure victory by the end of the term.
Artel concealed his happiness, putting on a somber facade. "It's okay, no problem," he reassured Hermione.
While Artel was secretly pleased, Hermione couldn't hide her despair. She was running her hands through her hair, trying to make sense of the situation. She dreaded the thought of facing her Gryffindor roommates and classmates after this debacle. But what hurt her most was the serious disappointment expressed by Professor McGonagall the previous night.
"Instead of dwelling on it, let's think about how to earn those points back," Artel suggested. "Today's Potions class is with Professor Sprout as a substitute. Maybe you can earn some extra points there."
Hermione nodded, trying to be hopeful. At Artel's insistence, she managed to eat a slice of bread and an omelette, feeling a bit embarrassed to return to Gryffindor.
In contrast, Harry and Ron, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, enjoyed their breakfast. Even though they knew they'd lost 50 points, they shrugged it off with blushed cheeks and simple apologies. For them, the matter was already closed.
In Artel's mind, he couldn't care less about what Harry and Ron thought.
After enduring a tedious Potions class, Hermione intended to spend her afternoon reading in the library. Artel bid her farewell and returned to their dorm room, slipping away with the One Ring.
His first stop was the library. With Hermione occupied helping the librarian, Ms. Pince, sort through old books, it was the perfect opportunity.
Hogwarts, with its centuries of history, housed a vast collection of books. Some were strictly off-limits in the Forbidden Section, but in the old book area, Artel found a treasure trove of worn and forgotten tomes.
When Ms. Pins has some free time, she diligently organizes the books, carefully selecting the valuable ones to place in the borrowing section while relegating the dangerous ones to the restricted books area.
Artel, an ardent lover of ancient tomes, sifted through a collection of weathered books and stumbled upon a worn volume chronicling a wizarding conflict that transpired over a millennium ago.
Taking a sheet of parchment paper he had prepared earlier, Artel tucked it into the book and then performed a subtle incantation to ensure it would captivate Hermione's attention. With a satisfied nod, he departed serenely.
Afterward, Artel ventured into the Forbidden Forest for the very first time. To be candid, the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts was astonishingly vast, teeming with a menagerie of mystical creatures. Several of these species were quite imposing in scale, like centaurs and eight-eyed spiders.
Artel's objective was to locate the centaurs this time around. He had assembled nearly all the necessary ingredients for brewing the formidable orc potion, albeit not in vast quantities, enough for perhaps three or four hundred bottles.
It was, after all, Professor Snape who had generously contributed half of his life's savings for this endeavor. It would only be fitting to put it to good use.
The sole remaining ingredients he required were centaur blood and troll hearts.
Although trolls weren't known to inhabit the Forbidden Forest, centaur tribes were known to dwell within its depths.
Artel chose not to aimlessly wander through the sprawling forest. The area was so immense that he would have to toil tirelessly to find the centaurs on his own. It was the perfect occasion to rely on the prowess of magic.
"Manifested by lesser undead!"
"Bone fragments!"
Artel arrived at a clearing, and with a wave of his wand, magic flowed forth.
The ground before him trembled gently as earth mounds erupted all around, each one releasing broken skeletons.
These skeletons, however, were distinct from the skeleton warriors Artel had summoned on a prior occasion.
Skeleton warriors inherently possessed considerable strength, while these skeleton skeletons were merely a collective of mobile bones with less formidable power.
Yet their sheer numbers held potential.
Before long, a gathering of three hundred skeletons assembled in front of Artel, and with another wave of his wand, they dispersed into the surrounding area.
"Uh uh uh uh..."
The bones in their throats grated against each other, emitting a piercing sound that gradually resonated.
Artel closed his eyes, intently attuning himself to their presence.
Soon, he sensed that many of the skeletons had come under attack, primarily by magical creatures, but some...
"They're coming!"
Artel withdrew his mental connection and directed his attention to the east. The skeletons in this vicinity had been targeted by spears and arrows, undoubtedly the work of the centaurs.
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