The sky outside the window had turned completely dark. The window was half-open. A clear trail of wet pawprints tracked from the window to the chair, then to the floor, mapping the inspection route of the cat who had finally returned.
The cat lifted its head from its grooming, set down a paw, arched its back in a stretch, and then jumped down from its cat tree. It rubbed against him, pleased, before hopping back up. Its fur was soaked and clumped, dripping steadily and making a mess of the cotton platform.
Anthony let out a long breath and smiled. He vanished the wet fur for the cat. The cat, caught mid-lick, froze. It considered its bony paws for a moment, then slowly settled into a curled-up ball.
Anthony lit the office fireplace, shrugged off his coat, poured out the cold tea left in his cup, and set a fresh kettle to boil. He changed his shoes and wandered into the bedroom to the sound of the crackling fire. The Wraith Chicken and Wraith Mouse were there, occupying the head and foot of the bed, sleeping. The Wraith Chicken cracked an eyelid, looked at him, then tucked its head back under a wing.
"Evening," Anthony greeted, lighting the bedroom hearth too. Maybe because of the colder weather, the fights between the Wraith Chicken and the Skeleton Cat had decreased.
In the corner of the room, the bag of colorful fish jerky had a hole torn in it. Fish of all shapes were scattered on the floor. The culprit had left its calling card right at the scene: a few grimy pawprints.
Anthony had a pretty good idea where the cat's good mood had come from. He gathered the fish jerky, picked up the charms textbook from his nightstand, and went back to the office. He sank into his chair, flipping the book open to his bookmark.
Besides necromancy, he'd been studying regular charms lately. Everything, from Pettigrew's capture and trial to the recent awful weather, reminded him how important it was to master "normal" magic. Besides, he genuinely found charms interesting. Unlike curses, most short-spell charms placed heavy emphasis on precise pronunciation and wand movement.
Professor Flitwick loved telling the story of the wizard Baruffio and the buffalo. And Professor McGonagall had once mentioned in passing that Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, had failed her Charms O.W.L. She'd mixed up almost every charm's incantation and wand movement. During the exam on the differences between the Cheering Charm and the Tickling Charm, she'd made her examiner's shoes laugh uproariously.
Professor Flitwick thought it might have been Transfiguration born from nerves, but Professor McGonagall pointed out she hadn't turned the shoes into squeaking rubber ducks. She'd given them mouths, a classic charm effect, just like making a teacup grow legs was Charms, not Transfiguration.
On his desk, Anthony's teacup was wobbling around like a drunkard, its seven legs tangling awkwardly. Anthony firmly believed this had nothing to do with his charmwork and everything to do with the book's illustration. It was hard to imagine how something with seven legs was supposed to walk.
The Skeleton Cat pounced, pinning the cup with a paw, then craned its neck to bite the handle. The cup struggled under its bony grip, ceramic scraping against bone with a horrible shriek.
"I thought you had Roger the Snake to play with?" Anthony protested.
The cat ignored him, gnawing on the cup until Anthony vanished all seven legs. Satisfied, it settled on the desk. Its eye sockets, burning with Soul Fire, looked at Anthony, then drifted meaningfully toward the stack of white wine.
"No," Anthony said.
The cat hopped forward, landed in his lap, and rubbed its skull against his chest.
"Not on your life," Anthony insisted, picking up the persistent creature. He held it at eye level, staring sternly into its blazing Soul Fire. "Hmm? Do you even know? Do you know you're an undead kitten? Do you know how hard it is to fix things when you use necromancy while biting them?"
The cat stared back for a moment, then stretched out a paw and impatiently scratched him. It wriggled free, jumped off the chair, and stalked away.
Just then, the kettle shrieked. Anthony jolted. The water had been boiling for a while. He leapt up to rescue it from the flame. The cat glared up at it, tail lashing. The enchanted item from Diagon Alley screamed for another few seconds before its spout snapped shut with a resentful clang.
Only half a kettle of water remained. The room was thick with steam, the windows fogged over completely. Anthony pulled back the curtain. Grabbing the tea tin on his way back, he wiped a small clear patch on the glass and peered out.
It was a bright night. Fresh snow reflected the clear moonlight. No owls flew back to the owlery. Beyond the howling wind and faint, distant voices, the world was silent.
The cat suddenly jumped to the windowsill, its skeletal frame glowing gold in the firelight. Anthony followed its gaze. Through the fogged glass, a familiar shimmer of gold appeared in the night.
He set down the tea tin, wiped the window again, and leaned close to look down. The Skeleton Cat sat on the sill, craning its neck to peer out beside Anthony's head.
In the moonlight, a baby unicorn stumbled through the deep snow. It paused often, looking left and right uncertainly, or suddenly darting back the way it came in a burst of frantic energy. From its direction, it was slowly moving away from the Forbidden Forest, wandering toward the ordinary woods at Hogwarts' outer edges.
"Is it lost?" Anthony whispered, unsure if he was asking the cat or himself. The Skeleton Cat pressed its skull to the glass, fascinated by the magical creature it had never seen.
Anthony straightened, scanned his office, snatched his coat, and hurried out. He only had time to turn the cat back into a ginger cat before it darted into the bedroom. A loud RIIIP followed. Maybe I should hide the fish jerky, Anthony thought, closing the door and taking the stairs two at a time.
It was nearly curfew. Students still in the corridors or the Entrance Hall were rushing toward their common rooms. Filch stood guard at a staircase, eyeing them suspiciously, checking his pocket watch. Anthony nodded to him and stepped out into the cold, ignoring the curious glances from passing students. He circled the castle and finally found the little unicorn near a clump of snow-laden bushes.
The unicorn was investigating a student's lost glove, half-buried in the snow. It lowered its head, sniffing gently. The crunch of Anthony's boots in the snow startled it. It looked up, big round eyes observing him for a moment, before turning its attention back to the woolen glove.
Anthony slowly crouched down.
"Are you lost?" he whispered. "You're a long way from home. How did you get here?"
The unicorn nudged the glove free from the snow, studied it intently, flicked its ears, and then shifted its full attention to Anthony. Anthony held his breath as it stepped closer.
It seemed bigger than the last time he'd seen one—or maybe it was a different one, he couldn't tell. Now that he was crouching, he had to tilt his head up slightly to meet its eyes. Its coat seemed thicker, radiating a soft, warm golden light. Its ears were perked. On its forehead, a small patch of fur shone more brightly than the rest, the spot where its horn would grow.
"Do you remember how to get back to the forest?" Anthony said softly. "Is someone taking care of you?"
Long, soft golden fur covered the unicorn's hooves, shedding clumps of white snow with each step. It ambled closer… then suddenly grabbed the lace of his boot with its teeth.
"Hey, none of that," Anthony said, reaching down to press on the lace, trying to tug it back. "I think that's polyester. Not good for digestion."
The unicorn chewed thoughtfully on the lace and settled down in the snow.
"Step away from her, human!" A furious shout came from behind Anthony. He turned to see Bane charging from the tree line, glowering, his bow fully drawn. A gleaming arrowhead pointed steadily at Anthony's chest. He seemed to think the unicorn, slumped by Anthony's boot, was hurt.
"I mean no harm!" Anthony called, standing up.
The unicorn, startled, scrambled to its feet and jumped back, pulling his lace completely undone. A small piece of it remained clamped in its teeth.
"I just saw it from my window. Thought it was lost," Anthony explained. "I was worried it would wander beyond Hogwarts."
Bane slowed his pace but kept the arrow trained on Anthony, his gaze distrustful. He jerked his head toward the unicorn, signaling it to come to him. The golden creature stubbornly stood its ground, chewing on the lace.
Another rustle came from the trees. A second Centaur emerged from the forest's edge. He had a chestnut body and black hair like Bane's.
"Ronan noticed you'd left our woods. He feared the afternoon's… discussion had angered you," the chestnut Centaur said calmly, his eyes sweeping over Anthony and the unicorn. "But I see the reason now."
"Magorian, Ronan's concern is an insult," Bane said, his eyes never leaving Anthony. "I was angered, but I would not leave the herd for it… You heard me! Away from that cursed, star-polluting wizard!" The last command was for the unicorn.
"What does that mean?" Anthony asked. "Polluting the stars?"
Bane drew his bowstring tighter, not answering. Magorian explained placidly, "You make our stars puzzling, wizard. They were not meant to be this way."
"Do not explain to him, Magorian," Bane snapped. "Humans cannot comprehend the stars."
Magorian looked up at the night sky, continuing in his measured tone. "Mars should not shine so brightly."
Bane kept his glare on Anthony, addressing the unicorn foal. "Come here, filly! If it were not for your herd's request, and if it were not for my herd's request, I would not trouble myself."
Anthony bent down and gently pried the wet lace from the unicorn's mouth.
"You know, he's right," he told the unicorn, stroking its warm, satin-like coat. "You shouldn't be here. You belong in the forest."
The unicorn stared at his boot. Anthony thought he understood. If he lived in a forest full of hooves and giant fluffy spider legs, he'd probably be curious about strange things too.
Anthony chuckled. "I can't just give it to you, alright? But I know the Giant Squid in the Black Lake has a shoe. Maybe you can find where the other one is."
Bane stepped forward, placing himself between Anthony and the unicorn. The unicorn peeked out from under Bane's equine belly, still watching Anthony.
"You should leave, human," Bane threatened. "And never set foot in our forest again."
"This is not the time for Mars to blaze," Magorian said, gazing upward, undisturbed. "And I see Jupiter…"
"That's good," Anthony said, waving at the little unicorn. "Goodbye… uh, hope to see you again when you're grown."
Bane turned, bent his forelegs, and lowered himself to scoop up the unicorn foal. The unicorn seemed to say something to him. Bane shot Anthony a suspicious look, straightened up, and also lifted his head to study the sky.
"I see Jupiter as well," Bane said gravely. "Let us return, Magorian."
Magorian lowered his gaze from the stars to Anthony. He asked, peaceful as ever, "And you, human? What do you see?"
Bane let out a rough, scornful sound like a horse's snort. "Humans see nothing, Magorian. They are arrogant, but they are no different from the blind. I know what Firenze said. But I say it again: Firenze is mistaken. He is not that star. By the stars and our fates, no single man is a star!"
"I agree," Magorian said, his unblinking eyes fixed on Anthony. "But we both know something disturbs the heavens. What do you see, human? What is special about you?"
Anthony looked up at the moon. With his ordinary, dull, human eyesight, he only saw a bright stone hanging in the night's curtain.
He looked back down. The distant mountains were mere shadows swallowed by the dark. Not a single cloud marred the sky. Moonlight fell unimpeded on the snow, washing the lawn in a cold, pale glow. At the lawn's edge stood Hogwarts Castle, the flickering light of a hundred hearths glowing faintly in its countless windows.
"By the stars and our fates," Magorian intoned, solemn and calm. "What can you see, human?"
"I see…" Anthony said. "I guess tomorrow will be sunny."
By probability and weather forecasts, it was a cloudless, clear night.
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