While Harry and his friends were successfully subduing Rita Skeeter on the grounds below, Adrian had already reached the Forbidden Forest, soaring high above the darkening forest on Ray's back.
The Devil's Snare wrapped around Adrian's left arm had emerged partially from his sleeve, its sensitive vines quivering and pointing with toward the southeast. Its ability to detect dark magic made it an irreplaceable tracking device.
Through careful analysis of the magical residue left behind at the confrontation site, Adrian had managed to piece together the basics of what had occurred.
The mysterious black-robed figure had used a rare dark magic escape technique, one that allowed the caster to literally transform their physical body into smoke or vapor in order to flee from dangerous situations with swiftness.
While such a transformation might appear relatively harmless on the surface as it was certainly less obviously malicious than curses designed to torture or kill, the Devil's Snare's reaction told a very different story.
It could detect an extraordinarily rich aura of dark magic emanating from the magical traces, the kind of corruption that only came from long exposure to Dark magical practices.
This discovery confirmed Adrian's growing suspicions about their enemy's true nature and intentions. There was no longer any doubt that they were pursuing a genuine dark wizard.
Adrian rode in tense silence on Ray's back, his eyes scanning the gloomy forest that spread out below them. The late afternoon light was already beginning to fade, casting shadows between the trees and creating an atmosphere of gathering danger that seemed to press up from the forest floor.
"Southeast," He murmured, his voice barely clear above the whooshing wind created by Ray's flying.
The thunderbird immediately understood the subtle direction. Without hesitation, Ray adjusted his flight path and dove into the dense forest canopy in a steep, controlled plunge that sent them plummeting through layers of interlocking branches and snow-covered leaves.
Twigs and small branches whipped against Adrian's face and body as they plunged, forcing him to raise his arm defensively to protect his eyes.
Ray landed on one of the forest's massive tree branches which was easily wide enough to support both his weight and that of his rider. Its eyes immediately began scanning their new environment, searching for any signs of movement or danger among the shadows and vegetation below.
Suddenly, without any warning, the Devil's Snare around Adrian's arm began trembling.
"Our target is very close," Adrian whispered to himself, his entire body tensing with anticipation as he held his breath and concentrated all his senses on the surrounding forest. His wand slid quietly into his palm.
Bang!
A blinding flash of green light suddenly erupted from somewhere behind and to his left side. Adrian's reflexes responded automatically, throwing his body sideways in a desperate evasive maneuver as the deadly curse streaked past him with barely inches to spare.
The Killing Curse grazed the edge of his protective robes, close enough that he could feel the magical energy crackling against the cloth, before it struck the tree trunk behind his previous position.
The wood exploded on impact, leaving behind a charred crater that still seethed with residual dark magic, filling the air with the pungent smell of burning oak and something darker.
"The Killing Curse," Adrian muttered through gritted teeth, his gaze instantly turning cold while his wand swung toward the approximate source of the attack.
He had initially assumed they were dealing with an ordinary dark wizard, perhaps someone involved in smuggling, illegal potion brewing, or other relatively minor magical crimes. However, the moment that distinctive green light appeared, the entire nature of their confrontation had shifted.
'Change of plans,' He decided grimly.
His original intention had been to capture their opponent alive for questioning, hoping to extract information about their connection to Rita Skeeter and whatever larger conspiracy might be involved. But now, faced with an opponent who was perfectly willing to commit murder without hesitation, such merciful considerations were no longer practical or safe.
There would be no need to hold back or show restraint against someone who had just attempted to end his life.
"Impressive reflexes for someone so young," came a raspy, artificially altered voice from multiple directions simultaneously, the words seeming to echo and bounce off the surrounding trees in a way that made it impossible to pinpoint their source.
The tone had a hint of mocking amusement, as if the speaker found their deadly game entertaining rather than serious.
Adrian recognized this as nothing more than a crude psychological warfare tactic designed to confuse and distract him while the enemy relocated for another attack.
Rather than waste time and mental energy trying to track the misleading audio effects, he ignored the cheap intimidation attempt completely and responded with direct magical action.
His wand moved in a swift gesture as he cast a silent Stunning Spell, the red bolt of magical energy shot through the dense vegetation with perfect accuracy toward where his instincts said the voice had truly originated.
The curse tore through bushes and scattered bushes, sending up a spray of fallen leaves and debris, but it struck only empty air and rotting vegetation. Their opponent had already moved from that position.
"Playing hide-and-seek isn't an effective strategy," Adrian sneered coldly, while simultaneously directing the Devil's Snare to spread its vines toward a specific section of the forest where the concentration of dark magical energy seemed strongest.
With such an overwhelming aura of corruption radiating from their target, the Devil's Snare could locate the enemy's position almost instantaneously, regardless of whatever concealment charms or natural cover they might be using.
The next second, the Devil's Snare's vine went tight with sudden tension, stretching like a bowstring as it encountered solid resistance somewhere in the shadows between the trees.
"Gotcha," Adrian muttered as he mentally commanded the snare to execute a powerful yanking motion.
Rip—
The sharp sound of tearing fabric echoed through the forest, followed immediately by a muffled grunt of pain and surprise. A black-cloaked figure stumbled out from behind the concealing oak tree.
Half of his concealing cloak had been torn away by the Devil's Snare's aggressive grab, revealing an unusual silver lining underneath.
The revealed figure was a tall, thin man wearing dark glasses.
Before he could recover from his surprise or attempt another escape, the Devil's Snare coiled around him, its vines wrapping around his chest and limbs with crushing force. Within seconds, the plant had lifted him three meters off the forest floor, suspending him upside down from a sturdy branch.
His wand clattered to the ground below, leaving him completely defenseless and at Adrian's mercy.
Strangely, despite his current position, the dark sunglasses remained perfectly glued on his face, as if they had been magically stick to his skin.
Adrian leaped down from Ray's back, landing silently on the forest floor before walking slowly toward his captured opponent. His wand remained ready in his hand, pointed steadily at the suspended figure, while his eyes never stopped scanning the surrounding area for signs of additional threats or escape attempts.
The captured man struggled briefly against his restraints, testing the strength and flexibility of the Devil's Snare's grip with obvious desperation. However, when he discovered that he couldn't break free through physical force alone, his behavior took a bizarre and completely unexpected turn.
Rather than continuing his futile struggles or attempting to negotiate for his release, he simply relaxed into his bonds with an air of calm resignation.
"Well, that was quite an impressive capture," He said conversationally. "I don't suppose you could put me down? This position is becoming rather uncomfortable, and all the blood is rushing to my head."
Adrian tilted his head slightly, giving the suspended man a look of complete bafflement mixed with growing suspicion. He had the distinct and unsettling feeling that he had somehow managed to capture someone who was completely insane.
"First, let me see your face properly," Adrian ordered, raising his wand.
He flicked his wand, generating an invisible force that tugged gently at the man's mysterious sunglasses.
To his surprise, the removal process went far more smoothly than expected. The glasses showed almost no resistance at all, and flew directly into Adrian's waiting hand.
The face revealed beneath was remarkably unremarkable—a middle-aged man's face that seemed to have been designed by committee to be as forgettable as possible.
His skin was pale and slightly waxy, signifying either poor health or limited exposure to sunlight. His light brown eyes held no particular intelligence or malice, and his sparse brown eyebrows gave his face a continuously surprised expression that was almost comical.
He had exactly the kind of utterly ordinary appearance that would allow him to disappear completely if he were thrown into any crowd of ministry workers or shopkeepers.
He looked like he could be a clerk from some obscure department in the Ministry of Magic, or perhaps the owner of a small shop in Hogsmeade that sold boring but necessary supplies to the local wizarding community.
"You are..." Adrian was slightly stunned.
"You recognize me?" the man asked with terror, his calm demeanor cracking for the first time since his capture.
"Uh...sorry... I don't."
Adrian shook his head. "So, would you be willing to tell me your name?"
Of course, this reasonable request received no response at all. The man simply stared at Adrian with an expression that mixed wariness with what might have been relief at not being immediately identified.
When the mysterious figure learned that Adrian hadn't actually recognized him, he released what sounded like a subtle sigh of relief.
"Well, if you're unwilling to cooperate with simple questions, that's perfectly fine as well," Adrian said with a casual shrug that didn't match the deadly seriousness of his tone. His wand remained pointed steadily at the suspended man's chest.
"However, I think we can still have a productive conversation. You were hired by that woman Rita Skeeter to infiltrate Hogwarts, weren't you? If you're willing to answer this question honestly, I'll be happy to offer you an attractive choice in return.
You can choose to die here in this forest, quickly and relatively painlessly, or you can spend whatever remains of your life as a permanent resident of Azkaban prison. I'm told the dementors there provide quite an educational experience regarding the true meaning of despair."
Faced with such blunt and immediate consequences, the man quickly began speaking with desperation.
"Please don't act hastily, sir!" He said in a rush, his words tumbling over each other in their urgency. "I--I can explain everything if you'll just give me a chance. One day, completely out of the blue, someone approached me with what they described as an important matter that needed to be entrusted to a reliable person. This matter was supposedly very important, critically important, you understand and I knew it was important because they told me it was important, so naturally I..."
He rattled off an increasingly illogical string of completely unrelated nonsense that had no apparent connection to Adrian's question, while simultaneously and rather obviously moving his right hand in small, subtle movements toward something concealed at his waist.
Naturally, Adrian's eye caught every aspect of this clumsy deception attempt.
Therefore, without any further warning or negotiation...
"Sectumsempra!"
His wand carved a sharp, precise arc, and an invisible blade of cutting force flashed through the space between them.
Thud.
The man's right hand was severed cleanly at the wrist, falling to the carpet of dead leaves below along with the backup wand he had been gripping in preparation for a surprise attack.
"Ahhhhhhh—!"
The piercing scream that erupted from the man's throat was filled with agony and shock. Blood began gushing from his severed wrist and his face was instantly drained of all color, becoming as pale as snow.
Adrian mentally commanded the Devil's Snare to release its grip around the man's legs, though it maintained its hold on his chest to prevent him from attempting to flee.
With his agonized cries echoing through the forest like the wails of some tortured animal, the wounded man crashed heavily to the muddy ground, his body was immediately curled into a tight ball as he tried to cope with the overwhelming pain of his injury.
Adrian walked closer slowly, his boots crushing several dried leaves with each step.
He looked down at the wriggling figure from his position of complete dominance, the tip of his wand was now flickering with dangerous red light.
"Now then," He said in a voice that had turned chilly cold, "we can have a proper and honest conversation."
The wounded man struggled to roll over despite his pain, eventually managing to lean his back against the rough bark of the nearest tree trunk. His breathing came in harsh, ragged gasps that sent small puffs of vapor into the cold air, while his remaining hand pressed desperately against his severed wrist.
Then, something completely unexpected and deeply disturbing happened.
"Kill... kill me," the man suddenly raised his head, and a strange, unnatural light flashed in his eyes. His voice took on a hollow, mechanical tone that was unsettling. "Immediately... you must kill me right now!"
Adrian's pupils contracted sharply with recognition and alarm.
He was very familiar with this condition. These were unmistakable traces of the Imperius Curse and not just any version of it, but a reinforced, long-term variant.
This meant that the man in front of him was nothing more than someone else's puppet. He was the kind of victim who couldn't be saved through conventional means, his mind should be so thoroughly corrupted that his original personality might no longer exist.
The critical question now became: who was controlling him?
Could it possibly be Rita Skeeter?
Adrian dismissed this possibility almost immediately. While Rita was certainly unscrupulous and willing to bend various laws in pursuit of sensational stories, she was ultimately just a journalist. She lacked both the magical ability and the ruthless courage necessary for such advanced dark magic.
Adrian's gaze suddenly focused with intensity on the inside of the man's left wrist, where a blurred but unmistakable black mark was becoming faintly visible beneath the blood-streaked skin.
The Dark Mark. Voldemort's brand, burned into the flesh of his followers.
'So, this really is connected to Voldemort after all,' Adrian thought grimly as their situation became clear.
Perhaps sensing that Adrian had hesitated too long in carrying out the execution, the controlled man's remaining hand suddenly bulged with prominent veins as every muscle in his arm tensed with unnatural strength. His five fingers wrapped around his own throat, applying pressure as he tried to strangle himself to death rather than risk revealing information that might compromise his master's plans.
His face instantly flushed red as oxygen was cut off from his brain, while his eyes began to bulge from their sockets with the increasing pressure.
The sight was both horrifying and deeply tragic.
Watching this insane scene of forced self-destruction, Adrian felt a flash of sympathy.
So...
"Sectumsempra!"
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