No unicorns appeared, and Leonard's first suspicion was that Quirrell had attacked them and scared them off. But thinking it through, he realized that couldn't be right. Quirrell hadn't even returned to school yet; he was still dealing with smugglers, trying to buy the dragon egg that Midgard had almost intercepted.
So what had happened?
Turning the question over in his mind, Leonard continued deeper into the Forbidden Forest. He was used to riding with the unicorns and their naturally warm "seat cushions," so he hadn't brought the broom Midgard had given him. All he could do was push forward through the heavy snow.
The forest paths were buried, and as he walked, Leonard used a Levitation Charm to blow snow over his own footprints. Winter had this one troublesome flaw: fresh snowfall made his comings and goings too easy to trace. Anyone observant enough could follow the trail straight to the botanical garden.
Even though the botanical garden still carried a long-term deadly-visitor quest, Leonard had no intention of using Hogwarts students for it. Beyond the problems caused by disappearing students, their strength wouldn't provide much in the way of evolution points. If anything, he preferred more dark wizards.
Still, no one had attempted to break into the botanical garden so far. Maybe he had placed it too far out.
The winter forest landscape was striking, and with most predators hibernating, the Forbidden Forest was relatively safe this time of year. Under other circumstances, Leonard might have appreciated the view. But he wasn't in the mood to admire anything. He moved faster.
No matter how he thought about it, the unicorns failing to meet him was wrong. Something must have happened. But what could have happened when Quirrell wasn't even on school grounds yet?
Could it be the little Unicorn?
The possibility made Leonard's chest tighten.
Pushing himself without rest, Leonard soon reached the outskirts of the botanical garden. It was blanketed in white, the thin layer of snow making it hard to spot any unicorn tracks at first glance.
He rushed inside and soon heard low murmurs. There, covered in snow, was the unicorn herd. They were gathered tightly, layer upon layer, as if guarding something.
Seeing this, Leonard's heart lurched. He scanned the snowy ground, searching for that golden figure.
Nothing. Nowhere.
Panic crept in. His mind was already conjuring the image of the little Unicorn lying dead, the herd surrounding it in mourning.
Just then, the outer unicorns caught Leonard's scent—or more accurately, the scent of the pastries he carried. They rose with soft whinnies and clustered eagerly around him.
Leonard, who had been preparing himself to grieve, froze.
The unicorns weren't sad at all. Their blue eyes showed only anticipation and friendliness. Unicorns weren't emotionless creatures; if the little Unicorn had died, they would have been mourning, not crowding around him for food.
Could the little Unicorn still be alive?
Leonard pushed his way through the cluster of unicorns and looked toward the spot they had been guarding.
A unicorn lay there, and from its subtle features, Leonard recognized it as the little Unicorn's mother. She was lying in the snow, using her body to warm the ground beneath her as she gently groomed a small golden bundle curled against her.
It really seemed unharmed.
Leonard let out a long breath and was just about to hand out the treats when the golden bundle moved.
Only then did he notice something strange. Judging by the length of the fur, that golden coat was far too long...
A little girl lifted her head, her face perfectly delicate like an angel's. She looked dazed, as though she had just woken up, and her pale golden eyes were still hazy, as if veiled in mist.
She looked about the same age as Leonard, wrapped in a soft, hazy glow that gave her a holiness so pure it erased any stray impure thought.
The dreamlike sight struck Leonard like an arrow and left him rooted to the spot.
She yawned, climbed down from the Unicorn's back, and rubbed her eyes as her waterfall of golden hair tumbled down.
With the Unicorns gone, the snow-laden wind hit her and made her shiver. Her little nose scrunched, and she sneezed, "Achoo!"
The movement revealed an irresistibly cute little horn on her forehead.
She gathered her golden hair around herself for warmth. Only then did she realize the Unicorns had disappeared. Still half-asleep, she looked around and spotted Leonard standing there in a daze.
A bright, pure smile bloomed on her face, joy spilling from her eyes like honey.
"Wah!" she chirped as she hopped off the Unicorn and threw herself straight at Leonard, knocking him over as she landed in his arms.
All Leonard felt was a warm, fragrant bundle crashing into him before her flawless little face appeared right in front of his.
Her pale golden eyes were completely clear, filled with a disarming innocence and purity. Tilting her head, she looked into Leonard's eyes and saw her own reflection there.
"Oh... oh..." The little girl pressed close to Leonard's face, her small nose sniffing at his cheek as if confirming a familiar scent, then she stuck out her tiny tongue and gave him a lick.
The cold sensation finally jolted Leonard back to awareness. He stared at the girl nestled in his arms, his mind short-circuiting for two seconds as a faint restlessness stirred within him.
But Leonard's rationality remained intact. Without hesitation, he swiftly wrapped the girl's body in his own robe.
At that moment, Leonard felt profoundly grateful to be only eleven—still untouched by puberty's changes. Though somewhat agitated, he remained in that stage where desire outstripped capability.
Otherwise, that simple release just now would have left him completely embarrassed—a public spectacle witnessed by the entire unicorn herd.
Yet even without a reaction, the source of stimulation remained curled in his arms.
The little girl lay peacefully against Leonard's chest, watching with innocent confusion as he wrapped her in clothing, her face the picture of naivete.
Leonard felt this was quite possibly the most flustered he'd ever been. Beneath the girl's pure, untainted gaze, every movement felt like sacrilege.
His fingers stiffened at the slightest contact with her soft skin, his mind flooding with indecent imagery.
But when he met those clear eyes again, those mental images turned to torment, and he felt utterly wretched.
...
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