The Centaurs of the Forest

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"How could this happen?!" Hagrid knelt by the stream, tears streaming down his face. "Who could be so cruel as to slaughter such a pure, weak, and helpless creature? Don't they fear being cursed by life itself?!"

Dracula sighed, covering his ears with evident frustration. He stepped into the crystal-clear stream, his movements calm and deliberate. The water parted gracefully around his legs, leaving even the trailing hem of his robes completely dry.

His gaze fell on the unicorn's half-submerged body, and his frown deepened as he noted the shriveled state of the corpse—eerily similar to the previous victims.

Hagrid, meanwhile, continued sobbing, noisily blowing his nose into a filthy handkerchief. The sound grated on Dracula's nerves, and the unhygienic display only added to his irritation. He reached out and tapped Hagrid's shoulder.

Instantly, an icy chill spread through Hagrid's body, like the frigid waters of the Black Lake poured mercilessly over him. His sobbing ceased abruptly, the cold extinguishing his grief like a sudden gust snuffing out a flame.

Hagrid blinked in confusion, caught between the lingering sadness and the unnerving calm that had overtaken him.

"Be quiet and listen to me," Dracula's cool, detached voice cut through the tension.

Hagrid shivered involuntarily and turned to look at the figure standing beside the lifeless unicorn. Instinctively, he held his breath.

"This magic—dark magic that drains blood—is likely sacrificial in nature," Dracula explained, his tone light yet unyielding. "It siphons vitality from other creatures by consuming their blood. Ordinary animals may not have sufficed, so the dark wizard responsible turned to a unicorn, a being teeming with life force, and stole the power within its blood."

"But... but using unicorn blood curses you!" Hagrid's voice trembled as fresh tears threatened to fall. "Who would want to live a half-life cursed like that?"

Dracula pondered for a moment, recalling the dark magic Dumbledore had described in that abandoned classroom. His expression shifted slightly as realization dawned.

"If it's Voldemort—a being who clings to life through Horcruxes—he wouldn't care about a mere curse," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Perhaps," he added softly, "the dark wizard is already living a half-dead existence."

Suddenly, the sharp twang of a drawn bowstring broke the silence, followed by the unmistakable whistle of an arrow slicing through the air.

Dracula's hand shot up in a blur, effortlessly catching the arrow between two fingers.

"Hagrid, step away from that vile creature immediately!" a deep voice called from the shadows of the forest.

Emerging from the dense foliage was a centaur, his red hair and beard gleaming faintly in the starlight. Below his waist, a shiny brown equine body carried him forward, his long red tail trailing behind.

He galloped to the stream's edge, rearing slightly as he halted. His bow remained taut, aimed directly at Dracula with unwavering focus.

"Man in black and red!" the centaur bellowed, his voice both accusatory and wary. "Stay where you are—I can feel the darkness emanating from you!"

"Wait, Ronan, this is a misunderstanding!" Hagrid exclaimed, clearly flustered. "This is Professor Dracula, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. We're here investigating the mysterious deaths of animals in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Don't let this dark creature deceive you, Hagrid!" Ronan shot back, his tone grim. "The unicorn was attacked, and then he appeared. Who else could be responsible?"

Another centaur emerged from the trees—this one with dark skin and a rougher appearance.

"Bane, you're here too?" Hagrid greeted the newcomer, his voice tinged with relief before quickly shifting to alarm. "Wait, what are you all doing?"

More centaurs followed, their bows drawn as they surrounded Hagrid and Dracula near the stream.

"Wait! Everyone, calm down!" Hagrid pleaded, his voice growing desperate. "There's been a mistake—please don't act rashly!"

But the centaurs were unmoved. With the creak of tightened bowstrings, they prepared to unleash their arrows.

"Hagrid," Ronan said gravely, "you're a friend to the centaurs, but we won't let you fall victim to this dark creature's lies."

He raised an arm, signaling the attack.

Arrows flew from every direction, blotting out the stars for a brief moment. The centaurs' precision was deadly, with each arrow carefully avoiding Hagrid while aiming squarely at Dracula.

"Damn these centaurs—they won't listen!" Hagrid cursed under his breath. Without hesitation, he stepped in front of Dracula, using his massive frame as a shield.

Dracula, who had been watching with a faint smile, raised an eyebrow.

"Don't concern yourself with me," he said, his voice softer than before. "I don't need protection from a few arrows, Hagrid."

Raising a hand, Dracula stopped the arrows mid-flight.

The deadly projectiles froze in the air, suspended as if time itself had paused. Then, as if stripped of their power, they fell harmlessly to the snowy ground or splashed into the stream, sending ripples across its surface.

"Are you centaurs serious?" Dracula's voice dripped with mockery. "It seems I have some unfinished business with your kind."

In the next moment, Dracula vanished.

"Where is he?!" Ronan spun around, panic etched across his face. "Bane, can you see him? He mustn't leave the Forbidden Forest!"

But Bane and the other centaurs were frozen in horror, their gazes fixed on something behind Ronan.

Ronan turned stiffly, dread pooling in his stomach.

Dracula now stood beside him, a playful smirk curling his lips. Around him, the centaurs who had launched the attack lay unconscious.

"No need to search," Dracula said smoothly, his voice both melodic and menacing. "I'm right here."

To Ronan, the words were as chilling as the whispers of death.

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