Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality (181 page)

The doors to the Hall slammed open, and in marched nine Aurors in the reinforced leather gear they used when on duty. At once they spread out, two Aurors taking up station by each of the four tables, and the last took up watch at the Head Table. There were more gasps.

“Third!” said Draco Malfoy, his voice commanding. Malfoy had apparently memorized his own lines, since there was nothing written on his hand that Daphne could see. “In the face of a common enemy who does not balk at killing students from any House, the four Houses of Hogwarts must come together and act as one! To emphasize this, the House Points system is temporarily suspended!
All
Professors will encourage solidarity between Houses, by decree of the Hogwarts Board of Governors!”

“Fourth!” recited Neville Longbottom. “All students not already in the Defense Professor’s after-school classes, will receive special training in self-defense by Auror instructors!”

“Fifth!” Theodore Nott yelled in a menacing tone. “All fighting in the corridors or anywhere outside of Defense lessons will be dealt with severely! Fight together or don’t fight at all!”

“Sixth!” said Daphne Greengrass, and took a deep breath. When she’d found out what was planned, she’d made her own little extra request to Mother through the Floo. Even with Lucius Malfoy going along with Amelia Bones - a thought her mind was still having trouble grasping - the Greengrass swing vote had still been vital, since Jugson and his own faction had refused to back Malfoy. Not to mention that Bones didn’t trust Malfoy, and Malfoy didn’t trust Bones. So Mother had demanded, and the Greengrasses had received - “Since Memory Charms have been used on students without setting off wards, it is possible that someone on the Hogwarts faculty may be implicated. Therefore! The Auxiliary Protective force reports directly to my father, Lord Greengrass!” And this part was only symbolic, she knew, there’d be no reason anyone wouldn’t just contact the Aurors directly; but it might turn into more, someday, which was why she’d asked Mother to demand it - “And if anyone wants to report something to the Auxiliary Protectors, they can talk to the Aurors, or go through
me
-” Daphne’s arm swept behind her to indicate the gathered students. “The duly appointed President of the Auxiliary Protective Special Committee!”

And Daphne paused dramatically. They’d all rehearsed this part.

“We don’t know who the enemy is,” said Neville, whose voice did not squeak.

“We don’t know what the enemy wants,” said Theodore, still looking menacing.

“But we know who the enemy is attacking,” said Susan, as fierce as when she’d taken on three seventh-year students.

“The enemy is attacking Hogwarts students,” said Draco Malfoy, clear and commanding, like all this was his natural element.

“And Hogwarts,” spoke Daphne of Greengrass, feeling her blood burn like it never had before in her life, “is going to
fight back.”

Ten days later, the first dead unicorn was found in the Forbidden Forest.

May 13th, 1992.

Argus Filch’s face appeared twisted in the light of the oil lamp he held, shadows dancing over his face. Behind them the doors of Hogwarts quickly receded, and the dark grounds moved closer. The track they now walked was muddy and indistinct.

The trees, branches formerly bare with winter, were not yet fully clad with spring; their branches stretched up toward the sky like lean fingers, skeletons visible amid the thin foliage. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it often threw them into darkness, lit only by the dim flames of Filch’s lamp.

Draco kept a firm grip on his wand.

“Where are you taking us?” said Tracey Davis. She’d been caught along with Draco by Filch, on their way to an attempted meeting of the Silvery Slytherins after curfew hours, and likewise given a detention.

“You just follow me,” said Argus Filch.

Draco was feeling rather annoyed with the whole affair. The Silvery Slytherins ought to be recognized school business. There was no reason why a secret conspiracy shouldn’t have permission to meet after curfew, if it was for the greater good of Hogwarts. If this happened one more time he’d talk to Daphne Greengrass and Daphne would talk to her father and then Filch would learn the wisdom of looking the other way where Malfoys were concerned.

The lights of the Hogwarts castle had diminished in the distance when Filch spoke again. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?” Filch turned his head, away from the lamp, so that he could leer at the four students following him. “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…”

“Hey!” Tracey said, a touch of indignation entering her voice. “I’m too young to hear about that - that sort of - you know! Especially if the chains are well-oiled!”

Draco wasn’t paying attention. Filch simply wasn’t in Amycus Carrow’s league.

Behind them, one of the two older Slytherins following them snickered, though she didn’t say anything. Beside her was the other, a tall boy with an Slavic cast to his face, and who still spoke with an accent. They’d been caught for some unrelated offense, having to do with the type of thing Tracey went on about, and looked to be in their third or fourth year. “Pfeh,” said the taller boy. “In Durmstrang they hang you upside-down by your toes. By one toe, if you are insolent. Hogwarts was soft even in the old days.”

Argus Filch was silent for around half a minute, as though trying to think of a proper rejoinder, and then gave a chuckle. “We’ll see what you say about that… when you learn what you’ll be doing tonight! Ha!”

“I
said,
I’m too young for that sort of thing!” said Tracey Davis. “It has to wait until I’m older!”

Ahead of them was a cottage with lighted windows, though the proportions seemed wrong.

Filch whistled, a high sharp sound, and a dog began barking.

From the cottage stepped forth a figure, making the trees seem too short around it. The figure was followed by a dog that seemed like a puppy by comparison, until you looked at it apart from the taller silhouette and realized the dog was huge, more like a wolf.

Draco’s eyes narrowed, before he caught himself. As a Silvery Slytherin he wasn’t supposed to be Prejudiced against any sentient being, especially not where other people might see him.

“What’s this?” said the figure, in the loud gruff voice of the half-giant. His umbrella lit up with a white glow, brighter than Filch’s dim lamp. In his other hand he held a crossbow; a quiver of short bolts was strapped to his upper arm.

“Students serving detention,” Filch said, loudly. “They’re to help you search the Forest for… whatever’s been eating ‘em.”

“The
Forest?
” gasped Tracey. “We can’t go in there at night!”

“That’s right,” said Filch, turning from Hagrid to glare at them. “It’s into the Forest you’re going, and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.”

“But -” said Tracey. “There’s werewolves, I’ve heard,
and
vampires, and everyone knows what happens when there’s a girl and a werewolf and a vampire all at the same time!”

The huge half-giant was frowning. “Argus, I ‘ad in mind you an’ maybe a few seventh-years. ‘Ere’s not much point in bringing along help if I’m to watch over ‘em the whole time.”

Argus’s face lit with cruel satisfaction. “That’s their lookout, isn’t it? Should’ve thought of them werewolves before they got in trouble, shouldn’t they? Send them out alone. I shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid. They’re here to be punished, after all.”

The half-giant gave a massive sigh (it sounded like a normal man having all the air driven out of his lungs by a Bludgeoning Hex). “Yeh’ve done yer bit. I’ll take over from here.”

“I’ll be back at dawn,” said Filch, “for what’s left of them,” he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

“Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, 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 blew over Draco’s head as he looked into the Forest.

“There’s summat in there that’s bin eatin’ unicorns,” the huge man said.

Draco nodded; he distantly remembered hearing something along those lines a couple of weeks ago, toward the end of April.

“Did you call us to track down a trail of silvery blood to a wounded unicorn?” Tracey said excitedly.

“No,” said Draco, though he managed to stop the reflexive sneer. “Filch gave us the detention note at lunch today, at noon. Mr. Hagrid wouldn’t wait that long to find a wounded unicorn, and if we were looking for something like that, we’d look in the day when it’s bright. So,” Draco held up a finger, like he’d seen Inspector León do in plays, “I infer that we’re looking for something that only comes out at night.”

“Aye,” said the half-giant, sounding thoughtful. “Yer not what I expected, Draco Malfoy. Not what I expected at all. An’ you’d be Tracey Davis, then. I’ve heard of yeh. One of poor Miss Granger’s lot.” Rubeus Hagrid looked over at the two older Slytherins, peering at them in the light of his glowing umbrella. “An’ who’d yeh be, again? Don’t remember seeing much of yeh, boy.”

“Cornelia Walt,” said the witch, “and this is Yuri Yuliy,” indicating the Slavic-looking boy who’d spoken of Durmstrang. “His family is visiting from the Ukrainian lands, so he’s in Hogwarts just for the year.” The older boy nodded, a faintly contemptuous cast on his face.

“This is Fang,” Hagrid said, indicating the dog.

The five of them set off into the woods.

“What could be killing unicorns?” Draco said after they’d walked for a few minutes. Draco knew a bit about Dark creatures, but he couldn’t remember anything that was said to prey on unicorns. “What sort of creature does that, does anyone know?”

“Werewolves!” said Tracey.

“Miss Davis?” Draco said, and when she looked at him, he silently pointed a finger up at the moon. It was waxing gibbous, but not yet full.

“Oh, right,” said Tracey.

“No weres in the Forest,” said Hagrid. “They’re plain wizards most o’ the time, ‘member. Couldn’t be wolves either, they’re not near fast enough ter catch a unicorn. Powerful magical creatures, unicorns are, I never knew one ter be hurt before.”

Draco listened to this, thinking about the puzzle almost despite himself. “Then what
is
fast enough to catch a unicorn?”

“Wouldn’t ‘ave been a matter of speed,” Hagrid said, giving Draco an indecipherable glance. “Ere’s no end ter the ways that creatures hunt. Poison, darkness, traps. Imps as can’t be seen or heard or remembered, even while they’re eatin’ yer face. Always summat new an’ wonderful to learn.”

A cloud passed over the moon, casting the forest into shadow lit only by the glow of Hagrid’s umbrella.

“Meself,” Hagrid continued, “I think we might ‘ave a Parisian hydra on our ‘ands. They’re no threat to a wizard, yeh’ve just got to keep holdin’ ‘em off long enough, and there’s no way yeh can lose. I mean literally no way yeh can lose so long’s yeh keep fightin’. Trouble is, against a Parisian hydra, most creatures give up long before. Takes a while to cut down all the heads, yeh see.”

“Bah,” said the foreign boy. “In Durmstrang we learn to fight Buchholz hydra. Unimaginably more tedious to fight! I mean literally, cannot imagine. First-years not believe us when we tell them winning is possible! Instructor must give second order, iterate until they comprehend.”

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.

Then Draco saw it, thick splashes on the roots of trees, gleaming a brighter color beneath the moonlight. “Is that -”

“Unicorn’s blood,” Hagrid said. The huge man’s voice was sad.

In a clearing ahead, visible through the tangled branches of a great oak, they saw the fallen creature, splayed beautiful and sad upon the ground, the dirt around her shining moon-silver with pooled blood. The unicorn was not white, but pale blue, or appearing so beneath the moon and night sky. Her slender legs stuck out at odd angles, obviously broken, and her mane spread across the dark leaves, green-black but with a sheen like pearls. On her flank was a small white shape like a starburst, a center surrounded by eight straight rays. Half her side had been ripped away, the edges ragged like the marks of teeth, bones and inner organs exposed.

A strange choking sensation rose in Draco’s throat.

“That’s ‘er,” Hagrid said, his sad whisper as loud as a normal man’s voice. “Just where I found ‘er this mornin’, dead as a dead doorknob. She is - was - the first unicorn I e’er met in these woods. I called ‘er Alicorn, not that it matters ter ‘er any more, I s’pose.”

“You named a unicorn Alicorn,” said the older girl. Her voice was a bit dry.

“But she doesn’t have wings,” Tracey said.

“An alicorn’s a unicorn’s horn,” Hagrid said, now louder. “Don’t know where yeh all started thinking it meant a unicorn with wings, ‘ere’s no such thing I ever heard. It’s just like naming a dog Fang,” indicating the huge wolf-like dog that barely came to his knees. “What’d you have called ‘er? Hannah, or some such? I gave ‘er a name as would’ve meant summat ter
‘er.
Common courtesy, I call it.”

Nobody said anything to this, and after a further moment, the huge man gave a sharp nod. “We’ll start our search from ‘ere, the last place it struck. We’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. Yeh two, Walt and Yuliy - yeh’ll go that way, and take Fang. There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with Fang. Send up green sparks if yeh find summat interestin’, an’ send up red sparks if anyone gets in trouble. Davis, Malfoy, with me.”

The Forest was black and silent. Rubeus Hagrid had dimmed the light of his umbrella after they’d set out, so that Draco and Tracey had to steer themselves by the light of the moon, not without occasional trips and falls. They walked past a mossy tree-stump, the sound of running water speaking of a stream somewhere close by. Now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver blue blood on the fallen leaves; they were following the trail of blood, toward where the creature must have first struck the unicorn.

“There’s rumors about yeh,” Hagrid said in a low voice after they’d walked for a while.

“Well, they’re all true,” Tracey said.
“All
of them.”

“Not yeh,” Hagrid said. “Did yeh really testify under Veritaserum that yeh tried to help Miss Granger, three times it was?”

Draco weighed his words for a while, and finally said, “Yes.” It wouldn’t have done to appear too eager to claim credit.

The huge man shook his head, his great feet still stomping silently through the woods. “I’m surprised, teh be honest. And yeh too, Davis, tryin’ to put the halls in order. Are yeh sure the Sorting Hat put yeh in the right place? There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin, so it’s always been said.”

“That’s not true,” Tracey said. “What about Xiaonan Tong the Black Raven, Spencer of the Hill, and Mister Kayvon?”

“Who?” said Hagrid.

“Just some of the best Dark Wizards from the last two centuries,” Tracey said. “They’re probably
the
best from Hogwarts who weren’t from Slytherin.” Her voice fell, lost its enthusiasm. “Miss Granger always told me I should read up on anything I -”

“Anyway,”
Draco said quickly, “that’s not really relevant, Mr. Hagrid. Even if -” Draco worked it around in his head, trying to translate the difference between
probability of Slytherin given Dark
and
probability of Dark given Slytherin
into nonscientific language. “Even if most Dark Wizards are from Slytherin, very few Slytherins are Dark Wizards. There aren’t all that many Dark Wizards, so not all Slytherins can be one.” Or as Father had said, while any Malfoy should certainly know much of the secret lore, the more…
costly
rituals were better left to useful fools like Amycus Carrow.

“So yeh’re saying,” Hagrid said, “that most Dark Wizards are Slytherins… but…”

“But most Slytherins are not Dark Wizards,” Draco said. He had a weary feeling they’d be at this a while, but like fighting a hydra, the important thing was to not give up.

“I never thought of it that way,” the huge man said, sounding awestruck. “But, well, if yeh’re not all a house of snakes, then why -
get behind that tree!
”

Hagrid seized Draco and Tracey and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out a bolt and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.