Scar Mates

FORBIDDEN FOREST REDUX

Well before the time of the appointed detention that next night, Snape set off across the lower lawn in the direction of Hagrid's hut. He scanned his environs as he strode purposefully through the darkness. It was a moonlit night, and he knew that he'd have to take that into account to avoid detection.

After stealthily inserting himself into a copse of shrubbery near the hut, he settled in to wait. There had been no mistaking the old man's directions, at least not for Snape, who had over the years become adept in understanding the sometimes cryptic messages couched in the seemingly benign speech. Be vigilant, Severus, he knew was a subtle order to personally, although covertly, supervise the detention. This time Snape was in total agreement with the assignment. The knowledge of the boy's destiny and his changed behavior, were disquieting enough. But when considered along with Quirrell's comportment and this new development in the forbidden forest, the situation was ominous. The boy and his friends were going into the forest to track an injured unicorn, and the man who may have already tried to harm the child once could well turn out to be the perpetrator of this heinous deed of slaying a sacred creature.

Snape shuddered as he thought of this. He did not think it coincidental, this confluence of events. He had the sense that all of it...all of them...were accelerating toward an unknown finale. He was no longer confident that it was a simple matter of Quirrell plotting to burgle the Stone. Not with a dead unicorn. This was something altogether more sinister.

A dead unicorn raised the stakes considerably. Snape knew that this was not just some random, malevolent act. Anyone in the wizarding world would know what a ridiculously stupid stunt this was. For of all the magical creatures in wizardom, the unicorn was the most prized and beloved. Wizarding children were put to sleep with bedtime stories that extolled the unicorn's beauty and majesty, and praised its intelligence and purity. They were revered, and as such, were protected by laws and decrees passed on down through the ages. It was a rarity to see one, and those few who were fortunate enough to do so, held the memory of it as a treasure. Snape could well remember the first time he had come across one, and ranked the experience up there with seeing his first rainbow. It was indelibly etched in his mind.

It was true that their hair and horns were key components in wands and potions, but these were never forcibly taken. Snape, as a Potions Master, was well aware of the power contained in such things. He was occasionally provided with both ingredients by some of his own contacts within the forest. As to why anyone would even dare to kill such a creature, he was grimly aware of a chilling possibility. The blood of the unicorn had the power to strengthen the life force, even extend it under certain circumstances. The ramifications of this use, therefore, made it strictly prohibited by magical law. The consequences of indulging in this desecration were severe: a life sentence in Azkaban. But there were no recorded cases of this in the current century. Snape was certain, for he had researched the matter the night before after the Headmaster had left. I hope I'm wrong, he thought to himself. I don't even want to begin to imagine what use Quirrell would have for unicorn blood.

Shortly after the time appointed for the detention, he watched as Filch made his way down to the hut, the light from his lantern revealing the four, smaller figures trailing reluctantly behind him. As they drew near to the hut, Hagrid stomped down his front steps. Snape smiled in spite of himself when he head the grounds-keeper fairly snap at the caretaker.

"Bin lecturin' them, eh? S'not your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

The smile faded into disgust as he listened to the Malfoy boy whine and complain about going into the forbidden forest, while the other three students held their tongues. Shown up by three Gryffindors, no less. Pity I can't call him on it.

He waited while the small troupe headed to the edge of the forest, and then cast a Glamour Charm over himself to further reduce the risk of detection. When they stopped at the first line of trees, he took that opportunity to draw in close enough to hear them. His lips became a thin line as he watched Hagrid point out the trail of unicorn blood.

He felt a moment of indecision as the group spit into two--Malfoy and Longbottom taking one fork, the remainder continuing along another. He knew which party he needed to follow, but still was concerned for that student from his own house. With a sigh, he took up the rear, following along after Hagrid, Granger, and the boy. It was painstaking and laborious work to follow them in secret. The forest floor was treacherous, littered with debris, and even with the spells in place to cover his presence, he had to take care not to take a misstep that would alert them to his presence.

The trio ahead of him paused, then the burly man moved suddenly and pulled them behind a large oak. Snape stopped dead in his tracks too, and waited while the three of them whispered together. When they moved out again, he followed, all of his senses on a heightened alert. When the group stopped short yet again, he felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle, and he circled over to the right of them so that they all now stood abreast of each other, Snape only twenty feet from them.

He felt a surge of...sensation in his left forearm, and at once shot the boy a hasty glance. But it abruptly disappeared when a centaur walked into the clearing. Wonderful. If Hagrid and a centaur decide to have a little chat, we'll be stuck here all night.

He was not far off the mark. As the circular conversation rolled on, he couldn't help rolling his eyes when yet another centaur trotted across the clearing to join the odd gathering. He was relieved that the ensuing discussion proved to be short, and they moved beyond the clearing into the trees on the other side.

Suddenly the Gryffindor girl whispered urgently, "Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

As the grounds-keeper crashed through the undergrowth, Snape felt no indecision this time over where his loyalties lay. The boy and his companion were on their own now, and he knew without even considering that his place was here with them now. He was amused that the boy's concern was for Longbottom, and not for the Slytherin who taunted him at every turn. He was impressed, in spite of himself, when the boy raised his wand and turned in slow, careful circles as he checked the forest around them for threats. Not bad for an eleven year-old. That kind of caution will serve him well in the future.

When Hagrid returned with the other two students in tow, he was again disgusted by his Slytherin's behavior. Malfoy obviously had no respect for his dangerous surroundings, but Snape knew that, regrettably, he would never be able to admonish him for it.

As the newly formed parties once again went their separate ways, he was satisfied that he now had the opportunity to watch over the Malfoy boy as well. Considering his stupidity, he may require my aid more that the Potter boy.

They walked for nearly a half-hour, deep into the ever-thickening forest. Snape was becoming increasingly strained with the effort to remain clandestine, when the two boys halted at the edge of yet another clearing. As he drew closer, he could then see what they had just discovered: another dead unicorn. His heart clenched at the sight of it as he felt a faint stirring of rage. Whoever this is must be stopped, and quickly.

What happened next occurred so suddenly that Snape barely had time to react. The pain in his arm struck so sharply that he had to put up a hand to contain his gasp. He watched in horror as a slithering, hooded figure drew up to the unicorn, then leaned in to its wounded side to drink from the blood pooled there.

As the Malfoy boy screamed and turned tail to crash back through the forest, the figure straightened, and started to glide towards the young Gryffindor...the boy seemed transfixed by the scene and rooted to the spot.

Snape had his wand out and was already moving forward when the child screamed, grabbing his forehead, then staggered backwards and fell. Almost to the boy, he was grimly facing the specter standing there, when from out of nowhere, a centaur bounded out from behind them and neatly jumped the two of them. For a brief moment it faced the startled figure, which hesitated before gliding back across the clearing and into the trees. The centaur then tuned back to the boy and inquired if he was alright.

Snape sighed as he regained his feet, and moved a safe distance away. My place is with the boy, but I'd dearly love to go after and deal with that miscreant.

His eyes softened as he watched the centaur pull the boy to his feet. Ah, Firenze. The first fortunate part of this damnable excursion. He had a relationship with this centaur. And although one could never say that he was a friend of a centaur, the Potions Master, over the years, had come to know Firenze due to his occasional forays into the forest for potions ingredients. The centaur had watched his respectful treatment of forest life, and had finally made himself known to Snape. He had even, at times, helped the professor with the more difficult to find items. They maintained a respectful distance, but Snape knew that this centaur was decidedly different from the others, considerably more cognizant of the inter-connectedness of their worlds. But still infuriatingly abstract.

The centaur proved this awareness with the first words he spoke. "You are the Potter boy."

When the two other centaurs appeared suddenly, the ensuing argument over Firenze's involvement only further proved his un-centaur like worldview. Snape listened in appreciation as the centaur claimed that the threat in the forest concerned them all. His appreciation melted into dismay as he watched Firenze, the boy on his back, gallop off into the tress.

So much for keeping him in my sights at all times, he muttered to himself as he began picking his way back through the underbrush. There's no way I can possibly keep up with them. But he was comforted by the fact that the boy was with Firenze, whom he knew would protect him with his life if it came down to it.

It was a miserable trek back. He slapped at insects on his hands and neck, and was hit full in the face by a tree branch that he wasn't too sure was unintentional. The forest did not suffer invaders lightly, especially at night. And although he was not as concerned about stealth now, it would not do to make his presence blatantly obvious either. There is still someone...something here in the forest besides myself.

As he made his way to the final clearing at the fringe of the tress, he was not surprised to see Firenze standing there waiting for him. He drew up to within five feet of the centaur and stopped, then made a low bow to the creature as he said, "Greetings, Firenze. Thank you for not betraying my presence to the boy."

The centaur nodded his head in greeting. "I knew at once, Severus Snape, that you did not wish him to know." The man-horse gazed at him solemnly. "It was not a wise decision to send the boy and his companions into the forest at night, even with Hagrid."

Snape acquiesced, "No, perhaps not. It was not my decision to do so." He paused, then added, "But I was sent to look after him by the one who made that decision. As you have guessed, the boy was not aware that I was there on his behalf." Snape waited patiently as the centaur scrutinized him. He knew that this was their way, and that to hurry things along would prove fruitless.

"What we have read in the planets is alarming, Severus Snape. But as I told the boy, we have read them wrongly before. I hope this is one of those times."

Snape let a full minute go by before replying--this, after all, was the centaur way of conversing. "If I may ask, Firenze, what else did you tell him? He has little knowledge of these affairs, and he may require some help in...understanding what you have told him."

The full centaur-moment passed before Firenze stepped in closer to speak more quietly. "He is Harry Potter, Professor, the Boy-Who-Lived. He understands more than you know.'

As it was centaur who had just told him this, Snape was impressed. What the blazes does the boy know, and how in the world can he even begin to understand it?

Firenze was studying the Potions Master impassively, then said, "As he was almost killed because of it, I told him of the power or the unicorn's blood, and what kind of being might kill to obtain it."

Snape was careful to keep his face neutral. It took considerable effort, however. "And you told him this being would be...?"

The centaur shook his head. "I did not tell him outright, Severus Snape. He already knew of the Sorcerer's Stone up in the castle, and of the Elixir of Life. He quickly arrived at the Dark Lord on his own." He paused for a centaur-moment before asking, a hint of wonder in his voice, "Do you think it wise to have told him of these things at such a young age?"

Snape had to stifle the snort of irony. "Tell him? No, Firenze. Believe it or not, the boy has worked these thing out on his own, with a little help from his friends...and one other," he added darkly, thinking of Hagrid.

The centaur was appraising him thoughtfully now. "Ah. That is perhaps fortunate, that one so destined should have the ability to reason these things out, even to foresee them. There is perhaps hope, then, that the planets have been read wrongly."

Snape was not about to argue with a centaur over whether or not this turn of events had been fortunate. But he did want to know about the specter he had encountered in the forest. "Firenze, do you know who...or what is drinking from the unicorns?"

Firenze pawed at the ground with a hoof, his anger apparent. "I do not know for sure, Severus Snape. But his intentions are clear, are they not? There is only one reason to drink the blood of a unicorn. And the planets have foretold of his return. But the planets have been read wrongly before," he repeated.

Snape felt the hair on his arm raise as he considered this reply.

The centaur told him as he turned away to return to the forest, "One of your colleagues visits the forest frequently. And at night. Perhaps he has some answers to your questions."

I don't doubt that he does.

Snape raised a hand in farewell, and watched as Firenze faded into the trees. Turning, he trudged his way back up the lawn to the castle, thinking over the events of the night. The Malfoy boy is a coward, and centaurs are the most exasperating creatures I've ever encountered. He frowned as he thought the next. And the boy...how I've underestimated the boy. But then I underestimated Lily too, more times that I care to admit. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, then.

***

Even though it was just five in the morning, the Headmaster knew better than to refuse his request for a brandy, although he did raise an eyebrow in slight disapproval as he handed it over.

"If Firenze hadn't been there, Albus, it might've gotten rather nasty. As it was, he scared him...it off. I would've done something much more...permanent." He sat forward, his head in his hands, as he continued. "The boy knows far too much. He knew it even before Firenze confirmed it for him."

Dumbledore peered at the man over his tea. "Severus, I did warn you that Harry is going to be unusual. He's marked, you remember? And he is bound to be pulled into...events in which he's destined to ultimately play a part.

"He's eleven," Snape reminded him tiredly.

"He's almost twelve, Severus, and age is besides the point in this matter. You know this."

"Yes, well, he does seem determined to involve himself in things that a normal first-year wouldn't even begin to dream about. But the danger to himself...." Snape shook his head. "He's going to need to be constantly watched over. It's a huge problem, Albus. He should be told that he's not to take unnecessary risks."

The old man looked at him shrewdly for a moment before answering. "Remember what I told you, Severus. He has to be permitted, even encouraged, to explore his abilities, all of his abilities. Because at some point, probably more than once, I imagine, all of his abilities are going to be tested. And he must not be found lacking when the time comes." He caught the Potions Master's eyes. "We have to give him his head a little, Severus. Consider it a part of his training, to allow him to develop his instincts, and handle things on his own a bit. We will stand ready to protect him, if need be. But if we step in too quickly each time that he's challenged, he'll never develop those abilities that he is going to be so in need of." He paused, holding his professor's eyes. "Trust me in this, Severus. I know it's an unusual tact to take with one so young, but we're in uncharted waters here. This boy must be managed differently.

Snape inclined his head. "You're right. However, it does take some getting used to." His face grew thoughtful. "In some respects, he seems so much older than eleven, you know. I watched him standing there in the forest with his wand out, guarding Granger, and I..." his voice caught. "Sadly, he seems so much older than eleven."

The Headmaster nodded. "His life up to this point, along with all that he's learned this year, has made him seem so. Although I do hope he'll experience some of the usual adolescent delights."

Snape snorted. "How could he not? You returned the damned invisibility cloak."

Dumbledore did not smile as he replied, "Yes, I did. I believe he might need it."

***

They chatted over an early breakfast, discussing at length the likelihood that Quirrell was indeed involved in the slaying of the unicorns. I was decided that, for the moment, watchful waiting would continue.

"I believe that things are going to come to a head on their own timetable, Severus. The Stone is secure. You are watching the boy. We will wait."

Having returned to his dungeons for a few hours sleep, Snape dreamed of the slain unicorn opening its eyes as he bent over to examine it. Why? it asked him.

Why, indeed?