Sean and Blaise finished breakfast and stood to leave the Great Hall, the chatter of students fading behind them.
As Sean passed Malfoy, who was bragging loudly, the Slytherin's voice cut off. Malfoy's eyes flicked to Sean, nervous. Losing fifty points for Slytherin was enough to spark a pure-blood duel.
Sean itched for the chance to challenge him. But the Malfoys wouldn't take kindly to another thrashing. To avoid their wrath, Sean let it go. He paused, then brushed past Malfoy, leaving the Great Hall.
Exams were nearing, and library seats were hard to find. Luckily, Blaise's third-year girlfriend always saved them spots, so Sean got a small perk from Blaise's romance.
First-years and third-years had different classes, so Blaise rarely saw his girlfriend during the day. They both stayed busy with their own schedules.
In the library's quiet hush, Sean handed Blaise his notes for all their subjects. "Copy these and study them," he said. Blaise had spent most of the year dating, barely studying. Without Sean's notes, he'd be lost for exams, relying on pure luck.
Blaise dropped his book, looking hopeless. "What do I do, Sean? I'm going to fail."
"Stop whining and read your notes," Sean snapped, flipping a page.
Blaise slumped for a bit, then sighed and got back to studying, his quill scratching.
At dinner, Blaise's girlfriend dragged him away. Sean shook his head, grabbed his book, and headed to the Great Hall alone, the castle's torches flickering.
As Sean bit into a warm pie, Malfoy's scared whisper drifted over. "It's crazy, really crazy! They're sending me to the Forbidden Forest for detention at eleven tonight. Dumbledore's a nutcase, McGonagall's a nutcase, Filch is a nutcase—they're all nuts!"
"Draco, maybe it's just outside the forest," Goyle said. "Not deep inside. That's not so bad."
"Yeah," Crabbe added. "Lots of kids have snuck to the edge before. No big deal."
Goyle and Crabbe's words calmed Malfoy a little, his voice softening.
Sean, listening closely, knew tonight was his chance to act.
He couldn't enter the Forbidden Forest too early or too late. Too early, and he'd risk meeting Quirrell, possessed by Voldemort, alone. His basic Disillusionment Charm wouldn't fool them. Too late, and the centaurs might take the unicorn's body, making blood harder to get.
Following Harry and the others at just the right moment would let Sean grab the unicorn blood safely. One drop was all he needed.
After dinner, Sean returned to his room, the dungeon's chill sinking in. He rested briefly, then lay on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, waiting for the night to deepen.
At ten-thirty, Sean grabbed Kulkan, slipped into sportswear and sneakers, and cast the Disillusionment Charm, his body fading into the shadows. He crept out of the Slytherin common room, the dungeon's chill biting his skin. Just outside, he spotted Malfoy ahead and trailed him from a distance. Sean watched Malfoy join Harry, and under Filch's sharp glare, they left the castle, heading to the Forbidden Forest's edge where Hagrid waited.
"Forbidden Forest! Are we really going in there?" Malfoy whined. "You're all mad! I heard there are werewolves! They'll rip us apart!"
Filch smirked, enjoying Malfoy's fear. "Your fault, isn't it? Should've thought of werewolves before you got in trouble."
"I'll tell my father!" Malfoy snapped. "He's a Hogwarts governor. He won't let you drag me in there! I'm not going!"
Hagrid stomped up, catching Malfoy's words. "Your dad's got no say here," he growled. "Dumbledore runs Hogwarts, and he says you go in, and you go in. Want to stay at school? Then follow me."
Malfoy quieted, knowing he had no choice. He wasn't foolish enough to push Hagrid, who'd protect him in the forest. He couldn't afford to make him mad.
Filch left, still smirking, while Hagrid led Harry, Malfoy, and the others into the dark forest.
Sean followed far behind, keeping his distance. Hagrid's hound, Fang, was timid but had a sharp nose. If Sean got too close, Fang might sniff him out.
To be safe, Sean sprayed himself with a scent-hiding potion, its faint mist cloaking his smell.
Deeper in the forest, Sean spotted silvery drops on the ground—unicorn blood, but too old. He needed fresh blood straight from the unicorn, so he pressed on, trailing Hagrid's group.
Soon, Hagrid split them into two teams. One group met a centaur, its hooves thudding. Sean stayed back, hidden in the shadows, watching.
The teams switched later, pairing Harry with Malfoy. Then, with Malfoy's scream piercing the air, Sean saw it—a dead unicorn, its silver blood pooling. Voldemort-possessed Quirrell, cloaked and hunched, drank from the corpse.
Quirrell spotted Harry and lunged, sensing a chance to strike. Harry froze, his scar burning, unable to fight back. Malfoy and Fang bolted, their footsteps fading.
Just as Quirrell reached for Harry, a centaur charged from the trees, its bellow scattering Quirrell into the darkness.
Sean seized the moment. He released Kulkan, the snake slithering silently toward the unicorn. Sean stayed hidden—centaurs would spot him if he moved closer. Only Kulkan could slip through the bushes and collect the blood without a trace.
Kulkan was no ordinary snake—Sean knew that much. To him, Kulkan's cleverness matched the smartest magical creatures, maybe even outshining them. Best of all, Kulkan understood Sean's words and their meaning, a rare gift that proved it was far more than a common snake.
With a thumb-sized glass bottle in its mouth, Kulkan slithered down from Sean's body, gliding through the bushes toward the dead unicorn. All it needed was to find a wound, collect a drop of blood, and their risky night in the Forbidden Forest would pay off.
Everything went smoothly, no mistakes.
Sean watched as the centaur Firenze led Harry away, the Forbidden Forest growing still and quiet. He held his breath, heart racing, until Kulkan returned, coiling around his crouched legs. Only then did he let out a shaky sigh.
It was done!
Sean tucked the vial of unicorn blood Kulkan brought back into his pocket and stood to leave. But as he turned, his excitement froze. A figure in a dark cloak loomed behind him, silent as a ghost. It was Quirrell, possessed by Voldemort.
Panic surged. How had Quirrell found him? Sean had been so careful—his scent hidden, his charm cast perfectly. Yet here was the Voldemort-possessed Quirrell, his magic sharper from Voldemort's dark teachings. Even without Voldemort's full power, Quirrell was far beyond Sean's skill. A head-on fight was impossible.
Luckily, Sean had brought his pocket watch, a last resort for deadly situations. Its magic could block a lethal spell once every seven days, but using it now would ruin his bigger plan to steal from Quirrell when Harry defeated him.
Sean's mind raced, and then a sly grin spread across his face. He stared past Quirrell, eyes wide with fake relief, and shouted, "Headmaster, Professor, you're here!"
Quirrell panicked, ignoring Voldemort's hissed warnings. Without a second thought, he turned into black mist and fled deep into the forest, desperate to escape.
Sean didn't wait. He bolted toward Hogwarts, waving his wand and yelling, "Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!" to set the forest ablaze. Roaring flames erupted, far stronger than normal fire, spreading fast and swallowing the trees in a fiery glow.
Under Voldemort's angry scolding, Quirrell realized he'd been tricked. No Dumbledore, no professors—just Sean's clever lie. Quirrell's worst fear was Dumbledore uncovering his secret, and Sean's shout had hit that fear hard, making him flee without thinking.
"Fool!" Voldemort snarled. "Tricked by a Hogwarts student!"
Quirrell collapsed, pain searing his soul as Voldemort punished him. His body shook, a loud cry escaping his lips. "Master, please, have mercy! I'll chase him, kill him, erase this shame!"
"Idiot!" Voldemort hissed. "That boy's not simple. He set the forest on fire to draw Hogwarts' professors, maybe even Dumbledore. I'm not afraid of them, but this ruins our chance at the Philosopher's Stone. When I rise again, that boy will pay—there's time to settle this."
"Then… Master, should I leave the forest now?" Quirrell stammered.
"Leave and return as a professor to put out the fire," Voldemort rasped. "That's your role, isn't it?"
"Yes, Master," Quirrell whimpered. Glancing at the raging flames, he turned into black mist and vanished from the Forbidden Forest.