The Abandoned
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The moonlight bathed the forest in an ethereal glow, illuminating a sight so pure it left Dyroth momentarily breathless—a unicorn.
Its snow-white body gleamed, untouched by the dirt of the earth, and its every movement radiated elegance.
This was the first time Dyroth saw such a pure creature.
"That's our target," Voldemort hissed, his voice laced with urgency. "Kill it and extract its blood. That's your task."
Dyroth stood still, his expression unreadable as he observed the unicorn. Its purity was mesmerizing, but his mind remained cold. He knew the consequences of killing such a creature.
"Teacher, killing a unicorn curses you," Dyroth responded, his voice calm. "I'm not foolish enough to get involved in that."
Voldemort's face twisted with frustration. "Dyroth, you insolent—this is the second time you've refused me!" His bloodshot eyes bored into Dyroth, desperate and furious. "Kill it, and I'll help you break the curse!"
Dyroth glanced at Voldemort's weakened form, his pale face betraying his frailty.
"Help me break the curse?" Dyroth thought sarcastically. "Does he think I'm stupid? If he has this ability, why'll he still need to suck the blood of the unicorn?"
As the tension thickened, the forest around them suddenly erupted in noise. The rustling of leaves grew louder, and Voldemort's instincts sharpened. Something was approaching.
Just then, thick streams of white, sticky fluid shot through the trees toward them. Dyroth and Voldemort barely dodged the assault as monstrous creatures began to crawl into view—Acromantulas, their sizes ranging from that of a dog to as large as a carriage.
"It's those damn Acromantulas! That lowly hybrid giant dared to let them loose in the Forbidden Forest!" Voldemort spat, recognizing the creatures. His fury intensified. He remembered how he had once framed Hagrid with these very spiders.
"Teacher, retreat," Dyroth advised, already backing away. "If we stay, they'll only multiply."
Voldemort's eyes flickered with frustration, but his desire for the unicorn's blood overrode his caution. "Hold them off! I'm killing that unicorn!" he snarled, racing after the fleeing creature.
"Understood, teacher," Dyroth replied obediently. But the moment Voldemort turned, Dyroth unleashed several large-scale spells, blasting a hole in the surrounding spider horde. Without a second thought, he bolted in the opposite direction.
As Dyroth fled, the Acromantulas swarmed Voldemort. "DYROTH!" Voldemort roared in betrayal, his magic flickering violently as he fought off the arachnid tide.
Quirrell's voice whined in panic as Voldemort's weakening spells slowed their advance. But just as all seemed lost, Voldemort saw the faint shimmer of blood where the unicorn had been grazed by debris. He dashed forward, collecting the silver liquid.
He gulped the blood down. Instantly, a surge of strength coursed through him. Voldemort's aura changed. His frail form now radiated raw power, and with a flick of his wand, the Acromantulas exploded like overfilled balloons, leaving the forest silent and coated in slime.
Voldemort smirked darkly in the direction Dyroth had fled. "My good disciple... You're very good."
---
Dyroth, having escaped through the secret passages back to Hogwarts, felt no remorse for abandoning Voldemort. "Work for free? What a joke."
He enjoyed a peaceful night of sleep, undisturbed by the chaos in the Forbidden Forest.
The next morning, he entered the Great Hall for breakfast, calm as ever. The moment Quirrell entered, Dyroth couldn't help but notice the professor's stiff movements, although his energy seemed improved.
"Good morning, Professor Quirrell," Dyroth greeted, his voice smooth.
Quirrell, caught off guard, hesitated. "G-Good morning, Mr. Grindelwald," he stammered, forcing a smile. But behind that smile lurked a simmering hatred.
"You look much better today," Dyroth remarked casually, his eyes studying Quirrell's reactions closely.
Quirrell shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid Dyroth's scrutiny. "Y-Yes, quite better," he mumbled before hurriedly excusing himself.
Dyroth grinned, satisfied. Voldemort wasn't as recovered as he pretended. It wouldn't be long before Voldemort would need to make another trip to the Forbidden Forest, and this time, Dyroth would ensure he extracted every benefit he could from it.
---
Over a month passed. Christmas was fast approaching, and Hogwarts buzzed with festive cheer. But despite the holiday spirit, Harry and Ron were still no closer to discovering anything about Nicholas Flamel.
Meanwhile, Voldemort and Quirrell struggled. The unicorn blood from the Forbidden Forest had barely lasted, and Dyroth, their only potential ally, had been avoiding them ever since.
But Voldemort could sense it—Dyroth was still watching. He knew the boy wasn't done with him yet.
In his dormitory, Dyroth packed his few belongings, mostly books he hadn't finished reading.
His progress in the last month had been impressive, with his Disarming Charm reaching its seventh level, and several other spells improving steadily. He was preparing for the final showdown that was sure to come by the end of the year.
On Platform 9¾, as the Hogwarts Express hissed to a stop, Dyroth stepped off the train. He spotted a familiar figure waiting in the distance.
An elegant woman in a green robe, her gaze soft and warm. A genuine smile tugged at Dyroth's lips.
"Aunt Vinda, long time no see."
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