Chương 86: Ch80- Wraith

Cassian kept walking, his wand angled low as the ground dipped into a shallow hollow.

"Anyway. Muggle science isn't as useless as most purebloods think. Newton might've been rubbish at alchemy, but the bloke did know his prisms." Harry tilted his head.

"That's the apple bloke again, isn't it?" Cassian sighed.

'Apologies, great Sir Isaac Newton. These ignorant younglings cannot comprehend your genius.' He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. Tragic. Truly tragic.

"You lot are determined to give me an aneurysm," Cassian muttered, stepping over a gnarled root.

"Newton spent half his life on science. The apple wasn't some divine epiphany, it's a hyperbolic story some historian spun to make him sound magical. He built the foundation of modern physics, the giant we all stand on. And you are reducing him to 'the apple bloke.' Blasphemy." Harry blinked, his brows drawing tight.

"So the apple didn't really fall on his head?" Cassian shot him a sideways look.

"Oh, it probably fell. But Newton didn't get whacked and suddenly invent gravity. That man was obsessive. He'd been chewing over motion and force for years before the apple even entered the chat." Hermione hurried to keep up.

"But... he really believed in alchemy, didn't he? Philosopher's Stones, turning lead to gold..."

"Believed?" Cassian snorted.

"He didn't dabble. Newton buried himself in alchemy texts like it was Hogwarts coursework. Man wrote more on transmutation and the Elixir of Life than on gravity." Harry glanced around nervously as the trees pressed closer.

"Is that… normal? A scientist believing in all that?"

"Back then? Perfectly normal," Cassian said. His wandlight skimmed over a mossy log, making the bark glimmer faintly.

"Science and magic weren't in neat little boxes yet. They were two sides of the same mad coin. As Arthur C. Clarke put it, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' No one was drawing lines at the time. Discovery was discovery, wonder was wonder, no matter what name you gave it. People like Newton didn't see a line... they thought everything could be explained if you were clever enough. Spoiler, they weren't wrong, they just lacked wands." Hermione's steps slowed.

"So... if he had magic, Newton could've made a Philosopher's Stone?" Cassian barked a laugh.

"Ms Granger, if Newton had magic, the world would either be a utopia or a smoking crater. The bloke had no chill. He would have blown up half of England chasing immortality, and still blamed the weather for it." The forest grew thicker, the path narrowing as gnarled branches curled down. A faint rustle to their left made Fang's ears twitch. Hermione looked around nervously, "Professor, was that...?" Cassian flicked his wand toward the sound, the glow shifting to a colder hue.

"Relax. Probably a fox. Or an acromantula. Either way, no screaming until we know for sure."

"You said it in Deputy Headmistress's room as well. What is an acro-something?"

"Acromantula. Big spider," Cassian said, his voice far too casual for Harry's liking.

"Legs like tree branches, teeth like daggers. Don't worry, this light is perfect for spotting webs before you walk face-first into one." Hermione slowed her pace, eyes darting up at the twisting branches overhead. The canopy seemed denser here, and more than once, her shoe snagged on exposed roots. Harry swallowed hard.

"Are they... common?"

"In the Forbidden Forest? Depends what you call common," Cassian said lightly, his wand sweeping over a low-hanging branch as he ducked beneath it.

"If you see one, there are probably ten more you didn't."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered. Hermione glanced at him sharply.

"We will be fine if we stick close together."

"Optimism. I like it," Cassian said, stepping over a fallen log.

"But if we do run into one, you lot are climbing the nearest tree. I am not wrestling a giant spider to save your wands." Harry stopped dead.

"Wait... you are not going to fight it?" Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

"Have you seen my arms, Potter?" Cassian said, turning slightly so his wandlight caught his narrow frame.

"Do I look like I am built for grappling with fanged arachnids?" Hermione's eyes locked, muttering, "You are the teacher."

"And you are the student who is meant to be revising her Charms homework instead of traipsing through murder woods." Cassian glanced over his shoulder.

"Life is full of disappointment, isn't it?" Fang's ears pricked up. The dog let out a low growl, nose twitching as he nosed a patch of grass. Cassian stopped, raising a hand for the two students to halt.

"Quiet," he murmured. Hermione stifled a yelp as Harry grabbed her sleeve. A faint rustle came from somewhere to their left... something moving slowly through the underbrush.

"Is it a spider?" Harry whispered. Cassian tilted his head, listening.

"No. Too heavy." His wandlight shifted, the beam narrowing into a sharper point.

"Something on four legs. Probably a boar. Or a centaur."

"Centaur?" Hermione hissed.

"They live out here," Cassian said.

"Most keep to themselves. The rest don't when provoked. So... don't provoke them." He left the rest unsaid, moving forward with a crawling speed now. The rustling grew louder, then stopped. Fang's growl faded as he sniffed the air and backed up a step. Cassian crouched, his free hand brushing the dirt. The soil was disturbed... hoof prints. Fresh ones. As they turned the corner, Fang bolted, tail down, charging back towards the hut. Cassian froze mid-step, wand half-raised.

In the clearing ahead, a creature loomed over a unicorn, black robes trailing like smoke. It moved with an unnatural glide, long fingers curling as it reached to strike. A hood covered most of its face, but even from here, Cassian could feel a damp chill pressed into his skin. Harry doubled over with a sharp cry, clutching at his scar. The boy's scream tore through the air as Cassian swore under his breath, shielding them both with his body.

"Bloody hell..." He snapped his wand up.

"Lumos Snipa!" A sharp beam of light shot from the tip of his wand, thin and blinding, a spear of light lancing through the darkness. He angled it just off-centre, careful not to blind the unicorn. The light slammed into the creature's hooded face, and it hissed... high, shrill, like metal scraping stone. The wraith reeled back, its clawed hand jerking away from the unicorn's pale flank. The beast bolted in a flash of silver, hooves pounding the earth as it vanished into the trees. Cassian didn't waste time.

He stepped forward, the light still burning in a piercing line.

"Potter! Get up!" he barked. Harry groaned, hands still pressed to his forehead. Hermione dropped to her knees, grabbing his arm, but Cassian didn't look back. His focus stayed locked on the creature, which hung there, tattered shadow in the glare of his spell.

"Professor... what is that?" Hermione's voice was panicked. Cassian's jaw tightened.

"I don't know." With his wand still raised, his other hand slipped behind his back, palm curling tight. Out of nowhere, Dumbledore appeared, his long cloak stirring faintly though no wind touched it. His wand was already drawn, the old man moving with startling speed for his years. His eyes swept the scene, before fixing on Harry.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore's voice sounded urgent.

"I heard screams." The hooded figure hissed again, reeling at the sight of him. Harry and Hermione froze, their shock written plain. Both seemed to sag in relief just seeing Dumbledore standing there. Hermione let out a shaky breath. Harry lifted his hand from his scar, sweat plastering his fringe down, and whispered, "Professor Dumbledore—" The creature shrieked, twisting away from the light. Smoke curled off its edges like it was burning.

Slowly, it began to retreat, sliding backwards into the treeline, but not before Cassian caught a glimpse beneath the hood. A face, white, stretched thin, eyes sunken and red as blood. Harry let out another cry, clutching his scar harder. Cassian flicked his wand, the beam of light narrowing even further.

"Go on, then," he muttered.

"Run back to whatever coffin you crawled out of." The thing gave one last hiss before vanishing between the trees. The air seemed to warm slightly as it left, though Cassian kept his wand raised, eyes scanning the shadows.

"Potter. Up. Now," he said again, voice sharper. Hermione hauled Harry upright. His face was slick with sweat, his eyes glassy. Then they both stiffened, something was wrong. Then Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Harry. His legs." Harry blinked, then saw it, Dumbledore's robes hanging wrong, his boots sunk halfway into the air like he was standing in a puddle that wasn't there. Illusion. They both knew it. Cassian would use it in every class. But this... this was perfect. Too perfect. Dumbledore turned to them. Smiled. Not the usual mild, grandfatherly curve. Wide. Almost mocking. Cassian's smile. He lifted a hand, gave them a casual little wave.

"Gurl, you are fire." Then he vanished. Just, gone. Fang barked in the distance, and the sound snapped them all back to life. Cassian motioned with his wand, the glow shifting back to a softer light.

"Back to Hagrid's hut," he said.

"And keep your voices down." Hermione's lips trembled like she wanted to ask more, but she caught the look on his face and stayed silent. Harry stumbled a little, but Cassian caught his shoulder, steadying him.

"Scar hurts?" Harry nodded stiffly.

"Figures," Cassian muttered.

"We need to talk to Dumbledore. And I need to talk to McGonagall." He didn't wait for an answer. With a tight grip on Harry's arm, he steered them back towards the path, the forest pressing in heavy and silent behind them.

"Whatever that thing wanted, it didn't get it," he muttered under his breath.

"But it'll try again." Hermione glanced at him, pale-faced.

"Professor... do you know what it was?" Cassian's mouth twitched faintly.

"Oh, I've got a bloody good idea." But he didn't elaborate.

"Faster, both of you," he said instead.

"Before something worse comes sniffing." Before they got far, Hagrid came crashing through the undergrowth, crossbow in hand. From the opposite side, a group of centaurs emerged. The one leading had a deep chestnut coat, the other pale as sand.