Ted sprinted toward the red fireworks, their glow flickering against the darkened sky.
As he ran, he whispered a quick incantation and cast "Grease" upon his foot.
This was a spell borrowed from another world's magical system—something unique to Ted alone.
Unlike the wizards of this world, who relied on wands and incantations rooted in Hogwarts teachings, Ted could harness abilities foreign to them.
Instead of freezing the ground like a typical Slide spell, "Grease" created a thin, nearly invisible layer of magical lubricant beneath his boots, allowing him to glide effortlessly across the terrain like he was skating.
The movement was fast and efficient, perfect for covering large distances in a short time.
At the same time, he activated "Hunter's Mark"—a tracking spell from his own magic system, something no other wizard here could replicate.
It locked onto a familiar magical signature, giving Ted an almost instinctual sense of where Malfoy was.
The spell pulsed, leading him toward the commotion.
Within five minutes, he arrived near the scene. The air crackled with residual magic.
From behind a tree, he heard shouting—Malfoy's high-pitched cries, Hagrid's unmistakable roar, and several unfamiliar voices incanting spells.
A bolt of dark energy slammed into a tree trunk, sending splinters flying.
Three—no, four figures stood against Hagrid and the students.
Professor Quirrell had called for help? Impossible.
Voldemort was far too proud and paranoid to involve his old allies in his current state.
That meant these attackers were unknowns, but they weren't amateurs.
Hagrid, despite his massive frame and strength, was at a disadvantage. His pink umbrella—a poorly disguised wand—flashed with raw but imprecise magic.
Ted knew Hagrid's spellcasting wasn't his strong suit.
The enemy wizards weren't engaging in a full assault; they seemed more focused on suppressing him, wary of something.
Ted, hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, crept closer, listening intently.
"We need to leave! The rest of the school will be here soon!" one of the intruders hissed.
They were afraid. Whatever their mission was, they didn't expect a drawn-out fight.
Ted didn't hesitate. He flicked his wand silently from beneath the cloak and whispered, "Stupefy."
A red bolt struck the nearest wizard, knocking him off balance.
Unfortunately, he wasn't fully incapacitated—protective wards absorbed some of the impact. The man grunted and scrambled behind a tree, yelling, "We're not alone!"
The other wizards reacted fast. These weren't bumbling schoolkids; they were seasoned fighters.
One of them cast "Homenum Revelio"—a tracking spell from the Hogwarts system.
Unlike Ted's foreign magic, which allowed precise tracking, this spell merely detected the presence of nearby people.
Ted's stomach tightened. He had anticipated this.
The Invisibility Cloak was powerful, but it didn't mask sounds, footprints, or scents.
Some forms of magic, particularly those specialized in detection, could circumvent it.
"Over there!" another wizard shouted, wand snapping toward Ted's position.
Ted didn't wait for them to pinpoint him. He pushed off the ground, gliding backward out of their spell's effective range.
A streak of violet magic slashed through the space he had occupied a second earlier, crackling against a tree.
The fight had just escalated. Ted weighed his options.
Malfoy was still in danger, Hagrid was outmatched, and now the attackers were aware of another player in the mix.
Wolves in front, tigers behind.
Ted remained hidden beneath the cover of darkness, his breath steady as he observed the chaotic scene unfolding in the woods.
Something was off. There were others here—strangers, dangerous ones.
One of them, a powerful dark wizard, had wasted no time. The moment he encountered resistance, he cast Avada Kedavra without hesitation, dropping one of his own.
His counterattack had provoked Hagrid, and now, another unknown figure was lurking, launching sneak attacks from the shadows.
The intruders were clearly on edge. If they didn't leave now, they'd be cornered.
"We can't stay! Fall back!" one of the wizards barked. In an instant, the remaining four disappeared with sharp cracks, using Apparition to escape.
Ted blinked, surprised by the sudden retreat. That was... anticlimactic. Who were these people?
Hagrid, meanwhile, was busy rounding up Malfoy and the other students, his booming voice shaking the trees. "Who in Merlin's name were they?! Poachers again?! I swear—yer not getting away this time!"
But it was too late. The attackers were long gone.
Ted debated whether to reveal himself, but before he could decide, he noticed Hagrid kneeling, his massive fingers rubbing something off a leaf.
The dim moonlight reflected a faint silvery glow on the liquid.
Hagrid's expression darkened. "Unicorn's blood... It's fresh. It hasn't dried yet!" His grip on his umbrella tightened. "Those scoundrels are huntin' unicorns! Not on my watch!"
His furious roar echoed through the trees, so fierce it made Malfoy flinch and cower.
Crabbe and Goyle weren't much better, visibly shaken.
"You lot!" Hagrid turned on them, his anger barely restrained. "Get back to the castle—now! I don't care what house yer in, yer not stayin' here. I'm going after 'em!"
Too terrified to argue, Malfoy and his goons turned tail and bolted toward the castle.
Their hurried footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only Hagrid, his crossbow, and his determination to hunt down the poachers.
Ted watched as the gatekeeper followed the blood trail deeper into the Forbidden Forest.
He hesitated for only a moment before casting a few protective charms on himself and slipping after him, staying out of sight.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the forest, another group was making their way through the dense underbrush—Harley, Ron, Jerry, and Neville.
They had entered the Forbidden Forest later than Ted, and without a clear direction, they struggled to navigate through the tangled pathways.
Once the red fireworks disappeared from the sky, they found themselves gradually drifting off course.
Fortunately, thanks to Ted's previous lessons—"Magical Combat Drills" and "Silent Infiltration 101"—they had learned to move carefully, minimizing noise, scent, and presence.
Even in the treacherous woods, they kept their wits about them.
Then fate—or something else—intervened. The four of them stumbled upon a horrific scene.
In a clearing bathed in moonlight, a unicorn lay collapsed in the grass, its once-pristine coat marred by deep wounds.
Though still breathing, its pained whimpers were barely audible.
The silvery glow of its blood pooled beneath it, shimmering in the dim light.
And crouched over the majestic creature was a figure wrapped in darkness.
The shrouded figure hesitated for only a moment before lowering its head and drinking the unicorn's blood.
The sight sent ice down Harley's spine.
Her entire body tensed, her scalp prickling with fear. Her breathing became shallow, her instincts screaming at her to run.
Behind her, Ron stood frozen in place, face pale, unable to utter a single word.
Jerry felt his legs weaken beneath him, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow.
Neville's throat was dry, his heart pounding so violently it hurt.
Then, without warning, a searing pain erupted from the scar on his forehead, as if it had been set aflame.
He clenched his jaw, stifling a cry.
But thanks to Ted's training, none of them screamed. None of them moved carelessly. Fear didn't drive them into reckless action. They remained hidden.
Unfortunately, while the cloaked figure remained unaware of their presence, a second, rasping voice echoed through the clearing—a voice that sent a chill through their bones.
"Behind you, you fool! There are eyes watching us!"
Their stomachs dropped.
They had been spotted.
But Gryffindors never lacked courage. The initial terror faded, replaced by the rush of adrenaline.
Harley's grip on her wand tightened. "Stupefy!" she shouted, firing a stunning spell toward the shadowed figure.