Asterion and Selenia were trapped near their den.
They channeled all their energy, their magic surging within, causing the horns on their foreheads to glow with an increasingly brilliant silver-white light.
Countless transparent cracks spread through the air, starting from their horns and slowly enveloping their bodies.
Just a little longer, and they'd break free from the restraints.
Both unicorns turned their gaze toward a dark corner of the den.
A low, chilling voice echoed, and a figure cloaked in a black robe, hood up, emerged from the shadows.
The figure raised their head, revealing a ghostly silver-gray mask wreathed in faint tendrils of black mist.
The hooded figure lifted their right hand, a pale, bony grip clutching a wand, its tip aimed at Asterion.
A dark red light, laced with arcs of electricity, sparked from the wand, gathering rapidly at the tip.
"Leave the male unicorn alone. I want the foal inside the female!" the voice hissed.
"I can feel it—that pure, radiant life force has taken root! Now's the perfect time to take it!"
The piercing, manic voice rang in Quirrell's mind, and despite the splitting headache, he shifted his wand toward the smaller unicorn, her belly visibly swollen.
In an instant, a sound like shattering porcelain rang out.
Asterion broke free first. Without hesitation, it unleashed its full power, charging at the black-robed Quirrell with thundering hooves.
Its sharp, spiraled horn shimmered with near-tangible silver light, the tip seeming to extend further in its brilliance.
A unicorn's horn held unique magic—wounds it caused were nearly impossible to heal.
For a wizard's frail body, a single strike would likely end the fight.
Asterion aimed straight for the figure's chest—right at the heart.
It wanted one blow to end it.
Quirrell couldn't react in time, not even to twitch his wand.
The unicorn's explosive speed was staggering, especially in its fury.
The silver glow at the horn's tip was inches from Quirrell's robe…
But the ground around Quirrell softened suddenly, turning into dark, sludgy mud. It trapped Asterion's hooves and slithered up its body.
Asterion froze, as if paused mid-motion.
Only then did cold sweat bead on Quirrell's forehead.
"M-Master, it worked," he stammered.
"Heh, well done, Quirinus," came the reply.
"It's… it's the magic you taught me. Powerful magic…"
Quirrell brushed a trembling hand across his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.
The spell used to trap the unicorn was taught by Voldemort—a rare, auto-triggered defensive dark magic.
It required preparation: the hearts of ten transfigured lizards, dissected and brewed into a complex potion to coat the body.
Quirrell had spent his time tracking unicorns in the Forbidden Forest and preparing this dark spell.
Another sharp crack echoed.
Selenia broke free too.
But before she could act, Asterion, its mouth nearly sealed by the mud, let out a sharp, urgent whinny.
It was telling her to run—to leave him behind.
Selenia didn't hesitate or choose.
She didn't have to.
Countless yellowed thorns erupted from the surrounding earth and trees, shooting skyward, twisting and tangling together.
In a blink, they formed a dome, shutting out the Forbidden Forest and the moonlight.
Only Selenia's faint white glow faintly pushed back the darkness.
Panic seized her.
Should she try to free Asterion or break through the thorny cage?
She didn't dare attack the wizard directly, fearing he could trap her like Asterion.
Anxiety, fear, and rage flooded her heart.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen.
The silver-white glow around her dimmed briefly.
In that moment, a dark red spark flared behind her.
Quirrell's wand was ready to cast, unable to delay any longer.
Voldemort's voice urged him on relentlessly.
Quirrell needed the foal's blood. Without it, his dwindling life force would give out within a month.
Crackle—
A faint sound reached Quirrell's ears, distinct from the arcs on his wand. It was more like…
Fire?
In the corner of his eye, a small flame flickered in the darkness, its red-gold light illuminating the withered thorns.
The moment Quirrell saw it—
Boom!
The thorny dome was engulfed in brilliant red-gold flames.
The sudden, searing heat left Quirrell dazed, the arcs on his wand faltering.
He instinctively glanced toward the fiery curtain.
A strange creature stepped through the flames, its size rivaling a camel, its body covered in fine, pale gold scales that gleamed metallically in the firelight.
A pair of white, jade-like horns curved sharply from its head.
Its mane flowed like molten gold, swaying in the heat.
Its glass-like eyes shone brightly, reflecting Quirrell's stunned expression.
With each step, the scorching air grew hotter.
"I want it!" Voldemort's voice roared in Quirrell's mind.
"Quirinus!"
"That pure, boundless life force—it can restore me further!"
The voice was a howling pain, stabbing at Quirrell's nerves.
As if to escape the agony, Quirrell flicked his wrist, sending a dark red bolt like an arrow toward the strange creature.
Snap.
The bolt struck true, sparking faintly against the golden scales, and then…
Nothing.
The dark magic, meant to erupt into a massive thunderball, didn't even slow the creature.
As the spell fired, streams of pure flame burst from the creature's body, forming thick, red-gold fire dragons that surged toward the hooded figure from multiple angles.
Quirrell barely registered what was happening.
A cold voice exploded in his mind: "Useless!"
In an instant, Quirrell felt control of his body slip away.
The eyes behind the ghostly mask turned blood-red, the black mist swirling wildly.
"Quirrell's" form twisted and vanished just before the fiery dragons consumed him.
He reappeared beside the trapped Asterion.
With an elegant flick of the wand, a gush of silvery-white blood sprayed from Asterion's neck.
As the dark, twisted magic surged through his body, "Quirrell" bathed in the unicorn's blood, letting it slide down the mask without drinking.
He had a better prize in mind now.