Harry Potter : Bloodraven

The Forbidden Forest was a vast, ancient realm where towering trees stretched endlessly into the night sky. It was home to creatures of every kind—beings of darkness, light, and myth. It was a place of undeniable danger, but also of opportunities for those who knew where to look.

And deep within this vast, eerie forest, amidst the unsettling quietness broken only by the rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of owls or distant howl of wolves, a shadowy figure could be seen kneeling beside a small, murmuring stream.

Just beside him lay a wounded animal, seemingly a horse at first glance, with fur as white as snow. Yet it bore one unique characteristic—a single horn protruding from its head—revealing it to be none other than a creature of myth and legend, a unicorn. And right now, it was dying.

Its body bore the marks of a destructive impact to the back, a half-foot-wide wound gaping deeply. A silver-colored liquid—its blood—seeped steadily into the damp earth, while its chest heaved heavily, each labored breath barely audible as it struggled to draw in air.

But it seemed this was not the day for it to take that final breath, as the cloaked figure kneeling beside it had taken action after retrieving something with a tap on the ring on his finger. It was a paste or salve, possibly a healing remedy, and the figure carefully applied it to the creature's wounds while chanting in an unknown language.

Moments later, a faint glow spread over the beast's terrible wound, and, at a speed visible to the naked eye, the torn flesh of the beast slowly began to knitt itself back together. Finally, the silvery blood which had been streaming gradually came to a stop.

...

Not far from the small stream, hidden behind thick trees, a pair of sharp eyes had been watching everything from the shadows. It was another creature of magical origin—a centaur, and a resident of this very forest.

The eeriness here was nothing unusual to it. But during a habitual stroll tonight, it had heard the pained cry of a creature, one very familiar, and under its kind's protection. So, without hesitation, it had rushed toward the source of the cry—only to find itself forced to hide, unable to intervene.

After all, after witnessing the brief confrontation—if it could even be called that—and piecing together what it could from their conversation, it had quickly realized this was not a situation within its power to interfere with.

Two mysterious wizards—one, the wraith of a dark lord, a lingering remnant of evil; the other, even more terrifying, an Arch-Magus hiding their face. It didn't take a genius to realize that neither wanted to be seen, and if it were discovered, it would be no match for either of them.

So it watched. Even after the wraith-infected wizard had fled, even as the other figure tended to the wounded unicorn, it still did not dare to step forward. It did not dare risk its life trying to determine whether this mysterious figure was a friend or foe. Instead, it planned to take the matter to its leader as soon as the figure left—perhaps even involve the school's residing Arch-Magus.

However, in the next moment, that deep, distorted voice spoke. It was so clear, so close, it felt as if the words had come from right beside its ear.

"You can come out now, Centaur."

It was so sudden that it instinctively shifted to the opposite side and looked around—only to find nothing. Then, as its gaze returned to the stream, it saw him now standing, staring directly at it with those crimson eyes that seemed to pierce straight into its soul.

A tense silence followed. Only then did the centaur fully grasp that it had been discovered. Without a second thought, it gathered all its strength and prepared to bolt.

No, this was no kind wizard.

What kind of kind wizard had eyes as red as blood?

What kind of kind wizard could make it feel so small with just a glance?

But before it could even turn—before its powerful legs could even take a step—it felt something.

A weight.

An invisible force crashed down upon it, pressing into its very being. It was as if the air itself had turned to stone, heavier than anything it had ever known. How heavy did something have to be to render its six-limbed body completely motionless—not even able to flinch?

It did not know.

What it did know was that this was a being standing at the very peak of power. A presence that could not be challenged.

The last time it had felt this insignificant was when its leader had once attempted to threaten Hogwarts' overseer—warning him and his students not to trespass into the forest.

That day, every single one of its kind had understood what it meant to stand before absolute power.

And now, for the second time, it felt it—that suffocating pressure, the unmistakable sensation of its own will being dominated.

As far as it knew, only the Arch-Magus among human wizards possessed such a presence. Its earlier assumption had been correct.

This was another king.

"L—Lord Wizard-King, I did not mean to offend," it stammered, struggling to hold onto its own thoughts, which felt as though they were being squeezed from all directions. "This... this is my home. I was only passing—"

But then, its words caught in its throat.

Because it saw the impossible.

The unicorn—so gravely wounded that it had believed no amount of magic could save it—slowly, shakily, rose to its feet.

The wound was barely visible now, nothing but a crimson scar. Its large, luminous eyes carried exhaustion, but beyond that, there was something else. Something the centaur had never expected to see.

Trust.

The unicorn, a creature that did not seek the company of other sentient beings—one second only to a Qilin in its ability to sense the purest of hearts—took a slow, deliberate step forward. Then another.

And then, despite its weariness, it gently rubbed its milk-silver coat against the shadowy figure's legs.

Affection. Gratitude.

Even if this wizard had somehow miraculously saved it, even if it had been pulled from the very brink of death, the centaur knew—a unicorn would never act this way unless it sensed true goodness.

Had it been wrong?

Was this figure, who looked like a demon, truly a saint in disguise?

...

Maverick looked down, bewildered, at the majestic creature rubbing against his legs like an affectionate puppy.

To be honest, he had only saved it on a gut feeling—not expecting anything in return, much less this.

After tending to its wounds and using up some of his most precious medicinal ingredients, his plan had been to 'kindly ask' the centaur to keep what had happened here a secret, then leave.

He hadn't intended to wait for the unicorn to recover, let alone receive gratitude he hadn't even known they could express.

And yet, here it was, nuzzling against him like a loyal companion.

The strangest part, however, was because this was a unicorn.

Every book he had ever read suggested unicorns were second only to qilins in purity, creatures that instinctively avoided those with even a sliver of corruption in their hearts. So why was this one acting this way toward him?

Surely, it didn't think he was pure-hearted?

Unfortunately, unicorns couldn't speak.

Under the watchful gazes of both centaur and wizard, the unicorn affectionately rubbed against his legs a few more times before, with a slight limp, disappearing into the depths of the forest.

Weird.

Maverick pushed the strange thoughts aside and turned his attention back to the centaur.

Their eyes met, and Maverick could see that the centaur's earlier wariness had now changed into… fanatic.

"Speak your name, centaur..." he said, adopting the tone of Bloodraven.

"It is Nebulon, great king…" The centaur lowered his head in what seemed like submission. "I apologize for doubting your majesty earlier. Had I known, I would not have acted so disrespectfully."

The crimson eyes narrowed at the centaur. "Doubting what… exactly?" His tone remained even, though inwardly, he grew more puzzled with each word this horse-man spoke.

Nebulon looked almost ashamed. "That you might be an evil wizard. But after witnessing the unicorn perform the blessing ritual, I feel ashamed for even entertaining such blasphemous thoughts."

"Blessing ritual?"

Nebulon nodded and explained without a beat. "The unicorns in the Forbidden Forest are under our protection, so we know much about them... ancient knowledge... It is said that if a unicorn shows affection three times in a row to a being... like it did with you, rubbing its head against you exactly three times... then that person is safe from all soul and spirit-related curses, for as long as that unicorn shall live.

Any curse you may carry will be passed on to the unicorn itself and negated. It's common knowledge that unicorns are immune to all curses."

The shadowy figure's crimson eyes narrowed, its gaze fixed on the centaur as Maverick racked his memory for things related to unicorns he had read. But nothing came to mind.

In a normal world, he might have laughed it off, but this was the world of magic, where curses were all too real and could be incredibly dangerous.

However, this didn't sound like a bad thing. In fact, it sounded rather favorable to him. His curiosity piqued, Maverick turned his gaze to the submissive-looking horse-man. "What do you mean unicorns are immune to all curses?"

Nebulon's voice was excited as he explained, "It's exactly as it sounds, great king. All soul and spirit curses are ineffective against the pure spirit of unicorns." He paused, thinking the figure infront was concerned about the unicorn. "So, you need not worry. Any curse passed onto the unicorn will be cancelled, ineffective... You are truly blessed. We, even the tribe that protects these majestic creatures, have never received such a blessing. And today, I am truly honored to witness it myself."

Listening to the centaur speak with such passion and belief on the matter made Maverick consider whether he should study magical creatures more seriously. Perhaps he could ask Newt for some materials, he thought.

But that could wait. Right now, he was late for a meeting, and this unexpected encounter with Quirrell and the unicorn had already taken longer than expected.

He looked at the centaur, and Nebulon saw those unsettling crimson eyes narrow at him.

"What has happened here… I don't want another soul knowing about it. Do you understand?"

The centaur responded immediately without hesitation. "Yes, great king. I will keep this secret. You have my word."

Maverick observed the centaur's emotions carefully for any flicker of deceit or hesitation. There was none. No sign of dishonesty, no trace of guilt or evasion. Still, words were only words.

"I need your oath. Bind it with your magic." He added, just in case.

Nebulon's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly realized this was to be expected. After all, he and this shadowy figure—whose name he didn't even know—were strangers.

Even if he now believed this figure to be a kind wizard after witnessing the unicorn's actions, that didn't mean the wizard felt the same way about him. So, after carefully considering it, he did not hesitate. He raised his hand and spoke the magic that would bind him.

"I swear, by my spirit and by the ancient bonds of my people, I will keep this secret, as you command. May the stars bear witness to my word."

Maverick felt the change in magic settle and knew the oath had taken effect. Satisfied, he turned away without another word.

With a slight motion of his hand, the space around him trembled. Then, as if reality itself had cracked, a dark rift split open before him.

Nebulon's breath caught in his throat. His kind had many records of human wizards and the forms of magic they wielded. And this… this was another confirmation of his assumption. As he stared in disbelief, the shadowy figure stepped forward, weightlessly floating into the tear in space.

And then, just as smoothly as it had appeared, the rift closed, swallowing him whole.

—————————

Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 123 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic