Chapter 70: I Don't Like Riddles
As the last of the black mist vanished into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, the suffocating pressure in the air finally began to ease.
But the atmosphere did not relax with it.
A sudden, heavy sound of galloping hooves shattered the dead silence.
From the shadows of the trees, a tall figure emerged.
His upper body was human, with platinum blond hair and melancholy blue eyes. His lower body was that of a silver white horse, gleaming with a pearly sheen beneath the moonlight.
It was Firenze.
He did not look at the weeping Hagrid, nor did he spare the trembling Draco a glance.
He first walked slowly to the side of the dead Unicorn, bent his forelegs, and lowered his head, as if holding some silent mourning ceremony.
Then he rose and swept his gaze across the battlefield.
The scorched earth.
The shattered ancient trees.
The violent magic still lingering in the air.
At last, his gaze settled on Tamara.
That look was strange.
It was not wariness, nor fear, but deep confusion, as if he were staring at a contradiction that should not exist in any star chart.
"Mars is very bright tonight."
Firenze spoke slowly, his voice low and ethereal, like wind passing through a canyon.
"That usually foretells war, and the blood of innocents."
Harry looked at the half human, half horse creature nervously. Almost instinctively, he shifted as though to step in front of Tamara, even though Tamara had been the one protecting him moments ago.
"Who are you?" Draco asked in a small voice, shrinking behind Tamara, his tone carrying an instinctive discomfort toward intelligent creatures that were not human.
Firenze did not answer him.
He moved his hooves and slowly approached Tamara.
Hagrid wiped away his tears and came over to explain.
"This is Firenze, a Centaur from the Forbidden Forest. Firenze, these are students from Hogwarts."
Firenze stopped only two steps away from Tamara.
From his great height, he looked down at the small girl before him.
To him, the child in front of him was a walking paradox.
On one side, a dark aura radiated from the depths of her soul, so sinister that even a Centaur felt a chill.
It was the scent of death, an evil more ancient and more perfect than the black shadow from before.
It reminded him of those dark years more than a decade ago.
But on the other side, her body seemed wrapped in a strange radiance, something almost divine.
That was the system's doing.
[Ding! A high perception creature is observing the host.]
[To preserve the host's glorious image, the system has automatically activated Holy Aura, Primary. In the eyes of magical creatures, you now appear as pure and flawless as a moonlit goddess.]
It was precisely this false layer of holiness that threw Firenze into complete logical confusion.
Darkness and light.
Death and divinity.
Perfectly fused within the same shell?
"The stars... are in chaos."
Firenze murmured to himself as he lifted his head and looked through the gaps in the leaves toward the night sky.
"Originally, Mars dominated the heavens tonight, foretelling that person's return and the upheaval to come."
His gaze returned to Tamara, and a strange light flickered in his blue eyes.
"But... an unknown star is rising."
"It is not moving along its original path. It is cold, distant... and it is eclipsing the light of Mars."
Hagrid looked utterly lost.
"Er... Firenze, what star are yeh talking about?"
Tamara, however, understood.
Mars represented war and bloodshed. In the original course of fate, it symbolised the return and terror of Lord Voldemort's main soul.
And that unknown star that had left its proper track was clearly herself, the variable with a system and an independent will.
The meaning of eclipsing was obvious enough.
She, this complete soul, would eventually surpass the main soul.
She would replace that decayed old thing and become the true dark sovereign.
Tamara narrowed her eyes slightly and met the Centaur's gaze. A faint smile curved her lips.
"The paths of stars can be changed, can't they?"
She spoke calmly.
"The forest hides many secrets, Miss Riddle."
Firenze answered softly.
"Fate is not fixed, but sometimes those who try to change it end up becoming part of it."
"You must be careful."
"Careful of what?" Harry could not help asking.
Firenze looked at Harry, and his tone softened slightly.
"Careful of those around you... and of everything."
The meaning behind those words was heavy.
Harry thought he was talking about Snape, or some villain hidden within the school.
But Tamara knew this clever horse was warning Harry to be wary of her.
"Thank you for the warning."
Tamara cut short the conversation. She was truly exhausted and had no interest in listening to a group of star readers speak in riddles.
"Hagrid, we should go back. I believe Professor McGonagall is still waiting for us."
Firenze said nothing more.
He bent down slightly, signalling for Harry to climb onto his back.
"Get on. The forest is not safe at this moment."
Then he looked at Tamara again, as if he intended to offer the same.
"No need."
Tamara refused at once.
"I prefer to keep my feet on the ground."
The journey back to the castle was unusually silent.
Hagrid was still grieving the Unicorn.
Harry was still wondering who that black shadow had been.
Draco stayed glued to Tamara like her shadow, replaying that terrifying and overwhelming battle again and again in his mind.
By the time they finally stepped into the warm Entrance Hall and met Professor McGonagall again, all of them felt as though they had lived through a lifetime.
"Merlin preserve us, you're all alive."
Professor McGonagall looked at the students, all of them covered in dirt and grass. Though her face remained stern, the worry in her eyes finally eased.
"Detention is over. Return to your dormitories and sleep at once."
"If I catch you wandering the corridors again, I shall turn you into pocket watches."
Everyone felt as though they had just been spared execution and scattered at once.
Inside the Slytherin common room, Draco was still babbling excitedly.
"Tamara, the look in your eyes just now was incredible! And that Centaur, he looked afraid of you! I knew it, you're the strongest!"
"Of course, Draco."
Tamara cut him off.
She rubbed the space between her brows tiredly and said softly, "Go to sleep."
"Alright! Goodnight! See you tomorrow!"
Draco was obedient as a House elf. He ran off toward the boys' dormitory, still turning back every few steps.
Tamara was left alone in the common room.
The fire in the hearth had nearly died, leaving only a few dim red embers.
Tamara sat in the green velvet armchair, and the composed, powerful mask she wore in front of others vanished at once, replaced by deep gloom.
She stared at the flickering fire, her thoughts drifting back to the heart of the Forbidden Forest.
That black shadow.
That main soul, reduced to drinking Unicorn blood.
"What a farce."
Tamara let out a cold sneer.
Though she had won tonight and even humiliated the main soul, it did not solve the real problem.
Now that the main soul had begun drinking Unicorn blood, it meant his weakness had reached its limit.
Which also meant his madness would soon reach its peak.
To survive, to return, he would do anything to seize the Philosopher's Stone.
Tamara's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.
During tonight's battle, the main soul had fully recognised her.
He knew this body housed a soul of the same origin as his, perhaps even more perfect than his own.
To Voldemort, that was a temptation greater than the Philosopher's Stone.
The Stone could only revive him.
But this body... could restore him to his peak, perhaps even beyond it.
"He won't let me go."
Tamara understood her own nature better than anyone.
Now that she had been marked as a target, waiting passively was never an option.
Rather than waiting for that madman to strike from the shadows, she would rather move first.
And then there was Quirrell.
That pitiful host, stuttering and crumbling beneath the weight of the main soul.
During the confrontation tonight, Tamara had clearly felt that Quirrell's body was nearing its limit.
He could not bear the main soul's enormous Dark Magic, nor could he endure the curse carried by the Unicorn's blood.
He was the weakest point in the entire arrangement.
"Rather than dealing with a soul that has gone mad..."
A sharp light flashed through Tamara's eyes.
"It would be better to strike a bargain with the man whose body is already collapsing."
She rose from the chair and walked to the window, staring out over the black waters of the lake.
In this world, there were no eternal enemies, only eternal interests.
If she could use Quirrell to restrain the main soul, or at the very least negotiate some temporary truce that benefited her, then she could buy herself more time to find a way to eliminate the main soul completely.
"It seems I need to have a proper talk with our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."
Tamara turned and began walking toward the girls' dormitory, her cloak cutting a sharp arc behind her.
"I only hope he hasn't been frightened out of his wits."
"After all, facing two Voldemorts at once... the pressure on him must be rather immense, don't you think?"
In the darkness, a faint, mischievous laugh echoed softly.
.....
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