"At least no one else was around" Firenze said, nodding slightly as he hefted the Acromantula's leg and gave it a casual wave.
"And you should know this boy," he added, turning to Bane. "Hagrid spoke of him. Several times."
Vizet stood quietly as the two centaurs spoke. He decided not to mention the possible presence of Quirrell and Voldemort nearby. The tension had softened, and for the first time, he sensed a possible turning point. If he could secure the right to use the altar through peaceful negotiation, it would be the most efficient — and least risky — solution.
He decided to make his move, subtly and indirectly.
"Mr. Firenze, Mr. Bane," Vizet said respectfully, "How exactly is the altar used?"
Firenze turned his head toward him, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. It was the look of someone who had expected the question all along.
"If he has truly been favored by the unicorn…" Bane muttered, half to himself. "Then perhaps… it is not a betrayal of fate after all…"
He exhaled deeply, still wrestling with his instincts.
"You've heard of Mallowsweet" Firenze asked. "It's a common herb, but when placed on the altar, it reveals much. If the altar chooses to respond, the mallow will ignite on its own… a silent flame of acceptance."
"But," he added with a small smile, "we won't be giving you the mallowsweet. You'll have to find it yourself. Do you accept that condition?"
"Yes! Firenze is right," Bane said quickly, as though reinforcing his own compromise. "You'll need to gather the mallowsweet on your own. But we'll inform the other tribes — we won't stand in your way."
------------------------------
Elsewhere in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid lumbered ahead, carrying a barrel-sized oil lamp that bathed the trees in golden light. Behind him trailed Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville — and, reluctantly, Malfoy, who walked stiffly with arms crossed, Fang the black mastiff padding at his side.
"Do we really have to go deeper?" Malfoy huffed, arching an eyebrow as he glanced warily at the thickening trees. "We've already passed centaur territory. I dread to think what we'll run into next! Has anyone considered the consequences?"
His voice oozed arrogance, but it wasn't enough to mask the flicker of panic in his eyes — the kind born not from reason, but instinctual dread. The forest was too quiet, yet felt too alive.
Neville cast a sideways glance at Malfoy. He didn't like him — but for once, he agreed. Still, with no one else speaking up, he merely clutched the hem of Hagrid's coat and said nothing.
Hermione, on Hagrid's other side, gripped her wand tightly. It trembled in her hand as she murmured a string of spells under her breath, her eyes darting about nervously.
"If you're so scared, go back yourself!" Harry snapped, turning on Malfoy. "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't even be out here!"
"Exactly!" Ron added, nodding emphatically. "This is your fault!"
The two stepped ahead, placing themselves between Malfoy and whatever lay deeper in the woods. They tried to look brave — but Ron's eyes flickered uneasily, and he kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure Hagrid was still there.
"I did see Vizet," Harry muttered, brow furrowed. "He was with someone else, I swear…"
Just then, the bushes ahead shuddered. A soft rustling cut through the forest silence.
The air tensed.
Everyone turned at once toward the sound.
"Who's there?" Hagrid barked, raising his crossbow. "I see you! Come out!"
A shadow leapt from the underbrush — swift, silent, hooves barely touching the earth.
"It's me, Hagrid…" came a calm voice.
"Firenze," Hagrid said, lowering the weapon in relief. "What's happened tonight?"
Firenze nodded once and casually held up a long, chitinous leg. "There's been movement. You know how the Acromantula have been lately — more active, more erratic."
"I was guided by a unicorn," he continued. "It led me to the far side of the forest… where I found a Hogwarts student you may recognize."
He stepped aside, revealing Vizet seated quietly behind him.
"Running Gorgon!" Hagrid choked, nearly inhaling Ron's sleeve. "Vizet! What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?"
"I told you I saw him!" Harry cried, triumphant. "You didn't believe me!"
Hagrid rushed forward and knelt beside Vizet, inspecting him with both wonder and worry. "You came here? The Forbidden Forest? It's too dangerous, Vizet — far too dangerous!"
"He must've come because he knew we were here!" Ron grinned, bounding forward. "You're mad, you know that? Mad — but brilliant!"
"Is that so?" Hagrid muttered, still eyeing the Acromantula leg warily. "Dead? Did you kill it?"
"Not me," Firenze replied, his voice taking on a graver tone. "The creature attacked Vizet. Vizet dealt with it himself. I merely helped it return to the forest."
Hagrid looked stunned. "But — but they promised! I made them promise they'd behave... they were just young ones..."
"If it had been another student," Firenze said gently but firmly, "they might never have left this forest."
His words sank in like a cold wind.
"You must consider this carefully, Hagrid. This is our advice."
As they made their way back, Hagrid grew noticeably quieter. The cheer had left him. He asked Firenze over and over if Vizet was hurt, his brows knotted with something that looked uncomfortably close to fear.
Harry, meanwhile, was brimming with questions about the Acromantula. He asked Hagrid three times — but each time, Hagrid only shook his head and trudged on in silence.
Filch stood at the gates of the castle, his lantern swinging as he limped forward to greet them. He grumbled something under his breath but didn't argue — his job tonight was simple: escort the students safely back to their dormitories.
At the eighth floor corridor, Vizet parted ways with Harry and the others.
Just as he approached the bronze knocker to answer the common room riddle, a sudden warmth pulsed from the pendant box resting against his chest.
Dumbledore's calm voice drifted out from within.
"Hello, Vizet. A great many things have happened tonight. Could you come to my office?"
"Okay," Vizet whispered softly, as if speaking to the pendant itself.
At once, it burst into a soft sphere of flame that enveloped him.
The warmth wrapped around him like a thick blanket by the hearth. There was a momentary blur, like blinking through candlelight — and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the headmaster's office.
Dumbledore had prepared what looked like an impromptu tea party. A small tower of sweets and sandwiches sat neatly on his desk, along with a silver tea service that steamed gently in the quiet.
It was clearly meant to soften the mood — to ease the weight of what had transpired.
But Vizet, fortified by the clarity of the Soul Labyrinth, had long since regained his composure. In fact, he had spent most of the walk back methodically reviewing every detail of the night's events.
"Voldemort sought you out personally?" Dumbledore asked as he slid a cup of black tea toward him. His tone was gentle, but his eyes were alight with sharp intensity. "Where is he?"
Vizet frowned. "He's in Professor Quirrell... I think he's possessing him."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered with something unreadable — shock, perhaps, but more layered. "Surprising. Surprising in every way."
He leaned forward, hands clasped lightly on the desk. "What did he want with you in the Forbidden Forest?"
"He was trying to get Professor Quirrell to obtain unicorn blood."
Dumbledore stiffened. "He didn't succeed, did he?"
"No," Vizet answered firmly. "He didn't get any."
Dumbledore leaned back with a slow exhale and dropped a piece of lemon sorbet into his mouth.
"That's something," he murmured. "Then... there's still time."