The oppressive silence of the Forbidden Forest clung to them long after they had left its edge, the path back to the castle lit only by the pale moonlight.
"That centaur… Firenze," Ron finally broke the quiet, his voice uncertain. "What was he trying to say?" He kicked at a loose stone, frowning. "I understood all the words, but when he put them together… it was just gibberish."
Harry shook his head, the centaur's cryptic warning still echoing in his mind. "I'm as lost as you are."
"Don't overthink it," Dudley said, his tone calm and steadying. "Centaurs pride themselves on stargazing, but divination is a messy art. Their predictions are rarely straightforward, and there's little logic to be found in them."
"But he said my destiny changed," Harry insisted, unable to let it go. "He said it couldn't be seen anymore. Why? I haven't done anything."
"Countless factors can cloud a prophecy," Dudley replied casually, though his mind was anything but. He already knew the reason for the sudden shift in Harry's fate, why the future had become a blur to the centaurs.
It was because of him.
His very presence, a being far beyond the scope of this world's seers, had cast an impenetrable shroud over anyone closely connected to him. The centaur who had been injured during the attempt had likely brushed against a truth he was never meant to witness.
Changing the subject, Harry looked between them, his expression grim. "So, the unicorn blood… what do we think?"
Ron shivered, the color draining from his face. "You-Know-Who… is he really back?"
"It's likely him," Dudley conceded. "It's too early to be certain, but if he truly survived, he's biding his time, looking for a way to return to power." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "Unicorn blood is a temporary fix, a cursed half-life. It can only sustain him for so long. He needs something that can grant him a true body again."
A spark of realization lit up Harry's eyes. A jolt went through him, his breath catching in his throat. "The package from Vault 713!"
Dudley gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Exactly."
"But we still don't know what it is," Harry said, the initial excitement giving way to frustration. "That thing they're hiding on the third floor."
"Should we tell Professor Dumbledore?" Ron asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Honestly, whether we tell him or not will change very little," Dudley reasoned. "Do you really think Dumbledore is unaware that someone is hunting for that object? He had Hagrid retrieve it from Gringotts and bring it here for a reason. He anticipated this from the start." Dudley's eyes swept the dark grounds around them. "I'm sure he's already searching for the dark-robed figure and any of Voldemort's other followers."
Ron flinched violently. "Don't say the name!"
Harry and Dudley exchanged a helpless glance. It seemed they were the only ones who dared to speak it aloud. For Ron, Hagrid, and so many others in the wizarding world, the name 'Voldemort' was a curse in itself, a trigger for a deep, instinctual fear. Perhaps it was the ignorance of youth, having never lived through the dark reign he commanded.
"There you are! Thought you two got lost in there for a minute," a booming voice called out. Hagrid stood waiting for them at the edge of the forest, his boarhound, Fang, at his side.
"We just finished up," Harry said, trying to sound casual.
"Good, good, you're done for the night. Best be getting back… oh." Hagrid's sentence trailed off as he wrinkled his enormous nose, a look of profound disgust on his face as the stench finally hit him. "Merlin's beard. I'd suggest you lot have a proper wash before you head for dinner. I don't think your classmates will appreciate that particular perfume."
"Right. We'll go now," Harry mumbled, cheeks burning.
After retrieving their wands from the gamekeeper, the trio made a beeline for the castle, heading straight for the nearest washroom.
An hour later, scrubbed clean but still carrying a faint, lingering odor, they entered the Gryffindor common room. Several students wrinkled their noses as they passed. Hermione, who was on her way to the girls' dormitory, stopped dead in her tracks. Fanning the air in front of her face, she stared at them with wide eyes.
"What on earth have you been doing? Mucking out a dragon enclosure?"
"Close enough," Ron said with a weak smile. "You're brilliant, you are."
Hermione just rolled her eyes and, with a final disdainful sniff, turned and hurried up the stairs. One by one, the other students in the common room found excuses to leave, until the trio had the warm space almost to themselves.
"Is it really that bad?" Ron asked, lifting his arm to sniff his robes. "I can't smell a thing."
"That's because we've gone nose-blind to it," Harry muttered, collapsing onto a plush sofa.
After a few moments of silence, Harry leaned forward, lowering his voice. "We have to find out what that thing is. Firenze was about to tell us before the other centaurs dragged him away."
Dudley nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. We need to know what we're dealing with."
"How?" Ron asked. "Sneak back into the Forbidden Forest and find him?"
"Absolutely not," Dudley said firmly. "The forest is too dangerous, and besides, there's an easier way. Someone else knows what it is." He glanced pointedly at Harry.
The realization dawned on Harry instantly. "Hagrid."
"Exactly," Dudley confirmed. "Dumbledore trusted Hagrid to retrieve it. He has to know."
"But he'll never tell us," Harry frowned. "It's a top secret."
"Leave that to me," Dudley said, a confident glint in his eye. "I'll find the right moment to ask."
The following week passed in a blur of mundane classes and homework. After the chaos of their previous detentions, Professor McGonagall seemed quite pleased with their quiet, uneventful behavior. While Harry and Ron focused on their studies, Dudley spent his free time wandering the castle's corridors, a predator searching for prey.
He was waiting, patiently, for the senior Slytherins who had cornered them before to make another appearance. But they never did, and the frustrating lack of conflict meant the digestion of his Barbarian potion was slowing to a crawl. He briefly considered provoking the three-headed dog on the third floor just to feel something, but dismissed the idea as reckless. For now.
Their next detention was far simpler: chopping firewood for Hagrid's hut—a menial task that magic could have completed in seconds. Throughout the work, Dudley looked for an opening to question the gamekeeper, but the right opportunity never presented itself.
Then, as the castle began to fill with pumpkins and decorations for Halloween, a note arrived. An invitation from Hagrid to join him for tea.
"This is it," Harry said, showing the note to Dudley. "This is our chance."
"I know," Dudley replied, his focus sharpening. "When we get there, let me do the talking. Just follow my lead. Understood?"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look and nodded, a shared sense of purpose passing between them.
That afternoon, as the final bell rang, the trio made their way down the sloping lawns toward Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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