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Liriya's face was as pale as paper, a fine layer of sweat beading on her forehead. Sustaining natural magic of this magnitude was a lethal burden for an eleven-year-old body.
But she didn't let go. A primal, almost savage determination burned in her ice-blue eyes.
"Hmph!" Black smoke billowed around the shadowy figure, pushing back against the advancing ice crystals. Wherever the smoke touched, the vegetation sizzled, clearly highly corrosive. "Let's see how long you can hold out."
"Julien," Liriya whispered through gritted teeth. "I can't hold this much longer..."
Magic of this scale was obviously too much for Liriya to bear right now. The black smoke visibly forced the ice crystals into a retreat, rapidly closing the distance between the figure and the two young wizards.
Julien stepped forward, shielding Liriya behind him. His wand was already drawn. The silver lime wood felt warm and smooth as jade in his grip, yet at this moment, it sent a strange vibration through his hand—not fear, but a deep, resonant echo from his bloodline.
With a flick of his wrist, he traced a perfect half-moon in the air, his voice ringing out clear and true: "Obscurum Flecto!".
Under the hazy moonlight, a pale black halo bloomed at the tip of his wand.
The black smoke emitted by their attacker surged forward like a living beast, but it could advance no further. Instead, a semi-transparent energy barrier materialized in front of Julien and Liriya.
Web-like black veins rippled across the barrier, shimmering faintly in the moonlight.
The shadowy figure paused, clearly taken aback.
"The Shadow Deflection Charm!" His voice carried a trace of incredulous amusement.
"A secret art of the Black family?! ...I thought it had been lost forever when that old fool died. Interesting. This is getting very interesting."
"Black," a pair of crimson, slit-like pupils flared to life within the shadows. "An ancient surname. To think there are still descendants left."
"Ah, I see. The spawn of disowned traitors, cowards, and Squibs. Hah, I know the history of your family far better than you do. Did you really think you could stop me?"
"No," Julien replied calmly. "But I figured I'd try. Maybe Dumbledore is nearby."
The crimson pupils instantly constricted, and the outpouring of black smoke intensified.
Julien had no breath left to speak. He could feel his magical reserves draining at a terrifying rate. While the Shadow Deflection Charm possessed a unique resistance against Dark Arts, facing an entity on the level of Voldemort meant the barrier was visibly crumbling.
"Obscurum Flectooooo!!!" Julien slashed his wand again, dragging out the incantation.
This time, it wasn't a shield. He condensed the power of the Shadow Deflection Charm into a razor-sharp spike and hurled it directly at the figure.
The shadow snorted in anger, twisting its body at an impossible angle to evade the strike. Yet, the spike seemed to graze him just beneath the arm, tearing open a pitch-black gash. No blood flowed; only a strange, smoke-like substance seeped from the wound.
"Enough!" Voldemort's voice turned ice-cold. "You dare play with Dark Magic in front of me! Game over. Avada Kedavra!"
Green light pooled in the air before them, the chilling aura of death arriving even before the curse itself.
Julien felt his blood turn to ice. The Shadow Deflection barrier clearly couldn't stop the Killing Curse.
Liriya lunged at him, desperately trying to shield him with her own body.
Though panicked, Julien wasn't entirely out of options. His left hand slipped inside his robes, his fingers wrapping around the final protective amulet his grandfather had given him.
Thud-thud-thud!
In that hair-raising split second, a warhorse seemingly materialized out of nowhere, charging in and launching a massive double-kick right at the shadowy figure's chest.
The sheer force of the blow sent the figure flying dozens of meters backward, instantly shattering the gathering green light.
"Insolence! The Unforgivable Curses are forbidden in this forest!" A deep, commanding voice boomed out as the shadowy figure scrambled to its feet and fled into the night.
Julien finally let out a massive breath, discreetly pocketing the amulet as he focused his eyes. It was indeed a horse—no, a man. Right, a centaur.
The centaur's broad upper chest was bare, his bronze skin gleaming like oiled leather in the snow-reflected light. Every muscle looked like expertly chiseled granite, shifting subtly with every breath.
His thick, dark brown hair was braided with eagle feathers and animal teeth. He had a strong, square jaw, and his eyes were like two drawn blades; a single glance from him was enough to send a chill down your spine.
And his lower half—tsk-tsk—was the body of a massive, chestnut-red horse. The muscles in his legs bulged, every tendon as taut as a drawn bowstring.
"Foals," the centaur said, his tone stern. "You should not be here. The forest is no longer safe."
"Thank you. You saved our lives," Julien said, looking up at the centaur. He then grabbed Liriya's hand, and the two of them bowed deeply.
The centaur lowered his longbow and gave a slight nod. "I had originally thought I would see the legendary foal here. But..."
His dark green eyes shifted to Liriya. "I sense the comforting power of nature within you." As he spoke, he gently tapped a front hoof against the ground. A ring of warm, silver light pulsed outward from the point of impact, immediately easing the exhaustion of her magical overexertion.
"Thank you," Liriya nodded weakly. Having just learned the cruel truth about her grandmother's death, tears and sweat mingled in her ice-blue eyes.
"What about this unicorn? Can you save her?" Liriya pointed at the creature collapsed on the ground.
Only then did Julien get a clear look at the beast.
Its coat was silver-white, fine and silky, resembling a tapestry woven from pure moonlight. It was far more slender and elegant than a normal horse, with a long, graceful neck, perfectly straight legs, and hooves of solid gold. A long, spiraled horn sat upon its forehead, looking like a holy relic crafted by a master artisan's lifelong dedication.
Yet, its eyes were tightly shut, and a glaring, bloody gash marred its neck.
"The unicorn is already dead. The demon requires its blood to sustain this... parasitic existence. And this is likely only the beginning..."
"Julien! Are you there? Liriya!"
The anxious voices of Hagrid, Harry, Ron, and Hermione echoed from the distance.
"Firenze, is that you?" Hagrid ran up to them. Seeing that Julien and Liriya were unharmed, he let out a massive sigh of relief and greeted the centaur.
"Hello, Hagrid," Firenze replied evenly.
"Thank heavens—and thank the centaurs," Hagrid said, wiping a sheer sheet of sweat from his brow. He looked at Firenze. "What in blazes is going on in the forest?"
Firenze didn't answer Hagrid's question. Instead, he slowly looked up at the starry sky. "Mars is exceptionally bright tonight."
"Eh?" Hagrid clearly didn't understand the riddles.
"But strangely enough, the normally dim constellation of Caelum is shining even brighter." The centaur shook his head in confusion. Ignoring the group completely, he turned and galloped away, his hooves clattering just as they had when he arrived.
(Note: In reality, the Caelum constellation rarely rises above the horizon in Britain. Just for clarification.)
"Julien, Julien, are you alright?" Harry and the others ran over, panting heavily.
"That was a close shave, mate," Julien said, squeezing Harry's hand with genuine emotion. After all, the centaur had originally come to save Harry Potter—or perhaps the "comforting Liriya."
Just as Harry was about to ask for details, Malfoy's shriek pierced the air from far away.
"Help!"
"Woof! Woof!"
The pathetic image of the boy and the dog fleeing for their lives was easy to picture, even through the dense trees.
Meanwhile, deep within the Forbidden Forest, Firenze stood beneath the oldest oak tree. Looking up at the stars, he murmured in a language only centaurs could understand—or perhaps, even he didn't fully comprehend it:
"When the Guardian awakens, when the three nodes resonate, the Stargate shall open, and destiny shall fracture. And the weight of the choice shall rest upon the youngest of shoulders."
The night wind swept through the canopy, carrying the prophecy far away.