Chapter 19

They met Hagrid and the quietly quivering Quirinus Quirrell in the Great Hall. Hagrid, evidently some sort of half-giant Ranger, was carrying a heavy crossbow (Milo was skeptical, light crossbows were much more damage-efficient) and carrying Fang's leash. Milo had carefully prepared his spells that morning, and avoided casting any throughout the day—meaning the Gryffindors started to be late for class, again, as Peeves could harass them with impunity, and Milo was starting to appear rather useless in their lessons. Still, he wasn't about to venture into something called the Forbidden Forest without a full complement of spells.

"Mage Armour," he cast as soon as they approached the professor and the Keeper of the Keys. A thin, invisible field of force surrounded him like a second skin. It was far from complete protection, but it would help a little.

"Hagrid!" Harry said happily.

"A-all right" Quirrell said, "our j-job is simple: all we're t-to do is enter the f-f-forest and f-find whatever it is a-attacking the u-unicorns," he stammered nervously. "A-and then r-return to H-Hogwarts so the H-Headmaster and I can d-d-decide what to do."

"Sounds like a plan," Milo said, although he privately wondered why all the powerful wizards living in Hogwarts didn't just use some Divinations to determine what was in the forest.

"Yeh all right, Harry?" Hagrid asked the Harry, who looked a little nervous, but determined. Milo was a little impressed that he'd volunteered for this, his friend was only three days into his wizard training. Milo hadn't, in fact, seen him perform any actual magic, yet. Now that's guts, he thought. But smart. If he lives, anything we encounter will give him so much XP that he's bound to level up at least once.

"Let's be off, then," Hagrid said, and led them through the grounds. Hogwarts sure looks eerie at night, Milo thought. A bit like Thamior's old place. Milo felt a brief pang of homesickness; Thamior was evil to the core, sure, but after the number of times Milo and his party had defeated him, he was practically family. "Now, I want ter be clear: anythin' happens—anythin' at all—and yer ter send up red sparks an' run, yeh hear?"

Harry and Milo nodded mutely. Milo could do close enough with a Dancing Lights spell.

"A-and keep y-your eyes p-p-p-peeled," said Quirrell. "A-and stick c-close."

A soft breeze caused the chill night air to bite clean through their school uniforms, and Milo pulled out a warm scarf and some wool gloves (fingerless, so as not to interfere with his spellcasting gestures) from his Belt of Hidden Pouches.

"Right. I'll take Harry an' Fang, Quirrell can take Milo," Hagrid said as they reached the outskirts of the forest.

"What, we're splitting up?" Harry asked.

"We've had bad experiences with that before," Milo added.

"Best way to find what we're lookin' fer," Hagrid said. "Too big of a group, an' we'll spook it. Remember: run in ter trouble, send sparks."

"Well, Harry," Milo said. "See you on the other side, right?"

"'Course. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll be fine," Harry said. Milo was astonished: was Harry trying to reassure him?

"You know, Harry, I think that one day—when you've gone up a few levels, and get a few magic items—you'll be quite the hero. Good luck."

The two groups split up and entered the forest.

"So, what are we looking for, exactly, Professor?" Milo asked Quirrell.

"We are not yet certain," Quirrell said. "Something that's been attacking unicorns—almost certainly some kind of animal. Keep an eye out for any unicorn's blood; it has a distinctive silvery colour."

Again, Milo had the nagging feeling that he'd failed a skill check. Quirrell had his wand at the ready. It felt like they'd been walking for hours, but Milo doubted it was more than half of one.

"Bet this is old hat for you, right?" Milo asked, feeling slightly nervous. "You probably charge into the Forbidden Forest every other week, fighting monsters and things?"

"No, that's Hagrid's job. I've only been this deep twice before," Quirrell said.

"Oh. Good."

"Wait, quiet—I think I heard something," Quirrell said. "Best hide behind that tree, I'll investigate. Just stay down."

Before Milo could argue, Quirrel strode off the path with his wand held out like a weapon—which, Milo, supposed, it was. Milo shrugged and ducked behind a tree, which was covered in soft moss. He heard rustling in the darkness, and debated whether to cast Dancing Lights to see what was going on. He eventually decided against, reasoning that the light might reveal some sort of monster sneaking up on him but would certainly attract everything in the entire forest.