(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 49: Eventful Detention (Patreon)

Chapter 49: Eventful Detention

3 March 1992, Hogwarts

As usual, his sleep was peaceful until something happened. In the middle of the night, Harry heard something scream. Something horrible had happened. He looked around and saw that no one seemed bothered by it. No one seemed to hear it in the first place. The screaming persisted during the night, and Harry didn’t get a whiff of sleep because of it.

Harry got the breakfast with his friends with red eyes, and eyebags visibly sagging. He was obviously grumpy to everyone around him and kept grumbling to himself.

Daphne gave him a comforting hug, “Still can’t sleep, huh?”

The Potter scion repressed to urge to snap at her. It wasn’t really her fault that he hasn’t been able to sleep for over a week. Normally, Harry treasured his Arcane Hearing, but he didn’t expect such a downside. Every night for a week, magic itself cried out. Something was wrong, violating something truly fundamental to the world. It was horrible.

It felt like someone was being tortured over and over again, and Harry was the only one capable of hearing them scream. The worst thing was that it was so loud. Harry had no idea where the noise came from, nor who was responsible for it, only that magic itself was suffering, and it made its pain known to anyone who could hear it.

It only happened at night, that’s the thing, when the castle is asleep, after midnight, the infernal screaming made itself known and did not stop until the sun rose once more. Harry hasn’t been able to have a wink of sleep for almost a week, and the professors were starting to notice it. From falling asleep during class and the occasional potion mistake and miscast spell, the professor expressed their disappointment to whatever it happened.

Harry took their scolding without truly caring. Nothing could really compare to the screaming he was forced to hear every night. Maybe nothing ever will. And worse, the Potter scion still had to attend his detention with Longbottom of all people. He still had no idea to what was happening.

As if it was mocking him, a small note appeared next to his cup of coffee. It spelled the following,

‘Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall’

Harry grumbled to himself about his miserable position. He was already having trouble sleeping and the detention was in the middle of the night.

Tracy looked up, “Did you say something?”

He shook his head, “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Just take a dreamless sleep potion. Pomphrey would give you a dose if she saw how sleep deprived you really are,” Blaise said.

Harry stifled another groan; they seem to think that he has nightmares. A dreamless sleep potion wouldn’t do anything to help him. The only thing he might need is a way to sleep without waking up, and the only potion that fit was the Draught of Living Death, which Harry was not prepared to risk. But it’s not like he could tell his friends what was really going on. They wouldn’t understand really, and his Arcane Hearing was something he knew in his gut that he needed to keep as secret as possible. And Harry trusted his gut.

The young Slytherin had no intention on arguing with his friends again, and just grumbled and walked away from the table. He slowly made his way to the seventh floor, to the Room of Requirements. Harry had desperately tried to enter the room while wishing that the noise would stop one night. It did not work one bit. The screaming was as agonizing inside as it was outside. But since the screaming only happened at night, Harry had no issue just sleeping during the morning. It was the weekend, after all.

Harry had done his best in completing his assignments either during classes, or during the previous day, and now he had a day of rest.

Things weren’t looking good for Harry. His entire magical education was on pause. He hadn’t practiced his Occlumency for a week, and he has barely had time to read a book either. He was barely handling dealing with his schoolwork with little sleep, he did not have the energy to experiment with his magic.

Harry went to the Room of Requirements and walked in front of the hidden entrance while repeating, ‘I wish for a place to sleep. I wish for a place to sleep. I wish for a place to sleep.’

As expected, the Room turned into a giant bedroom with a ridiculously comfortable bed. Harry had almost immediately fallen asleep when his head touched the pillow.

When Harry woke up, he was strangely comfortable. Oh, he was nowhere near his best, but he could at least think clearly. As if by reflex, he cast, “Tempus!”

He stood up suddenly when he realized that it was almost time for his detention. He had slept for over thirteen hours. He needed to rush and not risk the caretaker’s ire. Heaven knows that he’s already sadistic enough already.

After running down seven floors, Harry barely arrived at the entrance hall in time. Filch was already there, as was Longbottom, Weasley, and Hermione. Harry stifled a groan; he really didn’t have the energy to deal with them.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you, Potter?” Filch remarked, “no matter, follow me.”

He lit up a lamp and lead them outside and started acting creepy.

“I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me.... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed.... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Honestly, Harry wondered who let that man anywhere near children. This kind of sadism, especially towards preteens, was just not normal. Anyway, they marched off across the dark grounds and Harry started to slowly realize what their punishment was.

No way.

No fucking way.

They were not going to deal with a unicorn killing monster that was secretly the dark lord possessing their Defense against the dark arts professor. Someone had to be laughing at him somewhere. Why of all the detentions, he had to attend that one. Who even lets first years spend their detentions in the forbidden forest of all things.

The culprit revealed to himself to be Hagrid, who exclaimed, “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”

Harry’s heart sank, and he let out a small whine. Longbottom smirked at his expression for some reason. Of course, Filch wanted to take a last dig in, “I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy -- it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.”

Yeah, that sealed the deal. They were going to the forbidden forest. Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, a large dog at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

The groundskeeper and the caretaker ended up insulting each other. Harry ignored most of it, since he was slowly paling in fear at what was probably coming for them.

After the asshole of a caretaker left, Hagrid knelt down at them and spoke seriously, “Right then, listen carefully 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment.”

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

Harry audibly groaned, “Did you seriously ask us to follow you in a forest with something capable of killing a unicorn and drink its blood?”

“What? Are you scared, Potter? It’s just unicorns” Longbottom taunted.

“Of course, I’m scared, you idiot. Do you know what’s capable of killing a being as innocent as a unicorn? A monster, that’s what. To do so, you have to stomach of doing truly horrible, and accept the curse that comes with it. Am I the only one who is scared of something like that?” Harry responded.

Hagrid looked uncomfortable, but Weasley interjected on his behalf, “You’re overexaggerating, Potter. You’re just afraid of the forest.”

“I don’t care what you say, I’m not going inside that forest,” Harry protested.

“Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts. Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it. Besides, it’s probably an accident. The deaths only started a week ago. There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang.”

Harry wasn’t convinced one but stiffened, “One week, you say?”

The half-giant nodded, and the Potter scion had a lot to think about. This was too coincidental. The magical screaming every night, with such intensity, could be explained by the unicorn killings. The timeline fit. But Harry had never witness something this profoundly wrong in his life. It was an abomination. He had never seen a unicorn before, so he didn’t understand. But as Harry’s magical crest started burning slightly, the young Slytherin felt an irrational revulsion towards whoever was responsible for the horrible act of slaying a unicorn before its time.

He couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to. Maybe it was the crest, or maybe it was the desperation at the idea of finally being able to sleep, but Harry irrationally wanted for the unicorn killings to stop. He couldn’t even say no anyway, so that made no difference.

They ended up splitting up while Harry’s protest at the idea was completely ignored. Hermione just kept alternating from looking at him guiltily and glaring at her Gryffindor friends for some reason. At the end, Hagrid, Hermione, and Ron ended up forming a group, while Neville, Harry, and Fang made up another one.

They followed the silverly unicorn blood, walking past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must have been a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

Longbottom was the one who broke the silence, “What’s the deal with you and unicorns.”

“You have no idea how dangerous this is, do you? Honestly, I would have been fine with the Thestrals, the fucking giant spiders, the centaurs, and countless magical creatures. But killing a unicorn… that’s just wrong. There’s a reason we only use the horns and tails, which are harvested after their natural deaths, or sometimes even given away by the unicorn, but killing something this pure, this innocent, is abominable in a way that cannot be expressed with words. It would stain your soul, curse you with misfortune. You would live a half-life, a cursed life. It’s not a fate I would wish on anyone, but if they killed a unicorn, then they would deserve it.” Harry answered passionately.

The Longbottom scion seemed nervous about Harry’s seriousness in the situation and simply stayed silent. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

They stayed frozen when they saw it. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

It was bright in a way that Harry never felt possible, and yet so sad. It didn’t look real at least not in terms of flesh or blood. It was a being of energy, of light, of innocence and purity. Harry could understand now why it was such an abominable thing to willingly harm such a being.

That was when Harry noticed the hooded figure appear from the shadows. It was so malicious, so horrible that Harry shivered. It was wrong in so many ways. Harry watched transfixed as the cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

The moment the blood touched the man’s lips, something fundamentally changed. Harry ignored Longbottom moans of pain as he reached for his scar, too preoccupied at the utter agony and wrongness that seemed to magically scream to everything around it. The world itself cried out at the act, and Harry was deafened by its screams.