The Forbidden Forest during the day was manageable enough—at least there was light to illuminate the surroundings. But after sunset, everything took on a starkly different appearance. The rows of interwoven tree trunks and branches formed an impenetrable web, like the lair of some terrifying creature, ready to swallow any foolish human who dared to enter.
Even for seventh-year students on the cusp of graduation, breaking school rules to venture into the Forbidden Forest was a highly dangerous endeavor, let alone at night.
The ever-changing environment, complex creatures, and even aggressive plants made it so that a bug no larger than a pinky could prove deadly. In short, it was extraordinarily perilous.
That was precisely why some Gryffindor students saw exploring the Forbidden Forest as a meaningful challenge, one they were willing to pay a price for—like Fred and George, who, as Harry knew, had landed in the hospital wing at least two or three times after venturing into the forest to gather materials.
And those were just the times when their injuries were severe enough to require a visit to Madam Pomfrey.
So it was no surprise that Roger Davies was now letting out such pained groans.
Some of the more timid apprentices turned deathly pale upon hearing the details of the trial. It was clear that they were already considering backing out—Neville's face, in particular, was as white as parchment.
"Um, mentor, are there any more specific hints?" Penelope Clearwater couldn't help but ask. "I mean, is there anything in particular we should watch out for?"
Compared to the others, this girl was undeniably bold. Harry could see the excitement on Penelope's face, brimming with anticipation for the adventure.
"There are indeed a few requirements," Harry nodded, saying, "First, you'd better stay close to Messali the entire time—for the sake of your own lives. Second, under no circumstances let your torches go out. That would mean failing the trial. So when you craft them, put in the effort to ensure they keep burning until you reach the centaur tribe.
"No matter what we encounter along the way?" Hannah Abbott asked. "Lighting torches in a pitch-black forest seems a bit… conspicuous, doesn't it? I mean, conspicuous to, you know, magical creatures."
"Trust me, when the time comes, you'll be praying your torches are sturdy enough and burn long enough more than I am," Harry said with a light chuckle.
"Sounds incredibly tough," Katie Bell sighed deeply. "Crossing half the Forbidden Forest at night—ha, at least after tonight, I'll be able to proudly say that Gryffindor's courage runs through me."
"Gryffindor's courage is already in everyone's hearts, Katie, so quit complaining," Harry said with a shrug. "This trial is already very, very simple—so simple you won't even need to fight for your lives or face any real danger. It's as easy as drinking water or eating bread."
If this trial were held in Azeroth, it wouldn't even qualify as a trial—more like a toddler's game.
There was no need to kill anything—or rather, nothing that posed a real threat to their lives. The greatest resource they'd expend was their stamina. As long as they didn't go looking for trouble, they wouldn't encounter any unexpected dangers.
They even had a bodyguard escorting them the entire way!
Though Harry had never mentored apprentices before, he knew that in Azeroth, his teaching methods would be criticized by other mentors as overly indulgent.
"…Anyway, I've said enough," Harry said, shaking his head to rein in his wandering thoughts. His tone grew serious. "One last time—does anyone want to back out now?"
Silence.
"If we choose to back out now… uh, what happens?" Zacharias Smith asked cautiously, raising his hand.
"It means their training is over," Harry said calmly. "A shaman who can't connect with the next element will remain at that stage forever, with no need to learn deeper knowledge. That's true everywhere."
"We'll complete the trial, mentor," Cedric Diggory said immediately, his words sparking a chorus of agreement.
No one wanted to be dismissed from Harry's lessons at a time like this. With elemental magic—or rather, shamanism—becoming the talk of the British wizarding world, giving up on that power was unthinkable. Even if Harry wouldn't strip them of what they'd already learned, merely withholding further knowledge was unacceptable.
Once Harry officially announced the start of the trial, the apprentices sprang into action. They quickly recalled and reviewed the knowledge they'd accumulated, eager to craft durable torches…
Well, in truth, most of their "knowledge" involved sneaking glances at what others were doing. Some even tried to gauge Harry's reactions, though he pretended not to notice and let it slide.
Roger Davies was using a Cutting Charm to chop wood. He first carved out a stick he could hold in one hand, then tied a bundle of dry twigs to oneertino. Worried that the twigs wouldn't sustain the flame long enough to reach the centaur tribe, he added more, increasing their proportion.
By the end, Davies looked like he was carrying a massive wasp's nest, with dense, tangled twigs stacked together, appearing incredibly heavy.
Most of the apprentices followed a similar approach, producing torches of all shapes and sizes. Harry wasn't the least bit surprised by the wizards' creativity—after all, young wizards were still wizards.
"No, Ron, we can't just use dry branches for the torches. They won't burn long enough," Hermione was correcting her friend's mistake. "In the Muggle world, Muggles wrap cloth soaked in gasoline around the end of a torch to make it burn longer."
"But we're not Muggles, and we don't have that… gasoline stuff," Cedric shook his head. "More importantly, we're short on time. To be safe, I think we should each prepare a few extra torches."
The Hufflepuff boy was always methodical in his approach.
"Wait, where's Filch?" Ron suddenly looked around. "He was just here—ah! There he is! He's already made his torches!"
Among all of Harry's apprentices, Filch was the most peculiar.
As the castle caretaker, he'd never gotten along well with students, so he didn't bother interacting with the other apprentices—or rather, he had no interest in befriending anyone who wasn't absolutely loyal to Harry. His sole focus was completing Harry's trial perfectly, hoping to become Harry's true disciple, like that new girl.
Following Ron's gaze, the apprentices saw Filch busying himself on a patch of grass nearby, two torches already strapped to his back.
"I've got it!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. "Merlin, I'm so stupid! We can use pine or birch bark!"
"Huh?" Ron's mouth fell open in confusion.
"The bark of those trees is rich in resin, which burns easily. We can do what Filch is doing—stuff some dry moss or grass inside and mix it with resin. That'll make the torches much more durable!"
"No time to explain—let's move!"
Hermione's words carried weight, and under her direction, the apprentices sprang into action. Some peeled bark, others gathered moss or pine needles, and some searched for tough vines to use as bindings.
After much effort, the apprentices managed to craft several torches within Harry's allotted time. Mimicking Filch, they strapped two spare torches to their backs, held another in their hands, and lined up before Harry.
"Well done," Harry nodded. "You've all crafted your own torches. Now, set out. I'll be waiting for you at the centaur tribe. Remember—don't let your flames go out."
As he spoke, Harry raised his hand, and a blazing flame appeared in his palm. As he walked past each apprentice, the flame ignited their torches.
"Go. Begin your trial."
Without another word, Harry stood still, watching as his apprentices bid him farewell and followed Messali, the earth elemental, into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
He hadn't lied—he had no intention of trailing behind to ensure their safety. But he'd made other preparations: the fire elementals burning in each torch.
He needed to head to the centaur tribe to check if Triton had managed to rein in his more rebellious kin. Then, he could use Far Sight to observe how his apprentices performed during the trial.
Before truly stepping into darkness, it's merely a figment of the mind.
But once you're immersed in it, you realize darkness is everywhere—and you come to know the deepest… fear.
The weather wasn't ideal today. Though there was no wind, the sky was thick with clouds, obscuring the moon and stars.
Without moonlight, it was as if the entire world had lost its light. The only illumination came from the torches in their hands, but even their glow had its limits.
Yes, limits.
For the first time in their lives, these apprentices realized that light had a range.
Even on a relatively open path in the Forbidden Forest, free of obstructing shrubs or thickets, they could only see a few steps ahead. Beyond that was nothing but darkness.
Deep. Terrifying.
The stoic earth elemental moved toward the destination as Harry had instructed, neither fast nor slow. The apprentices followed closely, not daring to stray even slightly.
The only silver lining was that after a year of training, their bodies were strong enough to keep up without fallingbehind—no one wanted to be left behind in a place like this.
"…Have you tried the new spells in English? I don't believe none of you have secretly tested them. Just admit it…"
"…I tried a bunch this afternoon, and nothing happened…"
"…I had a different experience. I felt something once, but it only made the soil in the flowerpot twitch a little…"
"…Hey, Diggory, are you sure that wasn't your imagination? I didn't see the soil move at all…"
"…It did, I swear. It shifted upward just a bit…"
The apprentices' conversation grew livelier, their voices rising as they stopped trying to keep quiet, filling the dark forest with noise.
"Will you lot—be quiet?!" Hermione, at the front of the group, suddenly stopped and spun around, glaring at the boys. "Do you think we're not drawing enough attention already?!"
Her words carried authority. Even if some might privately disagree, no one would openly challenge her—not least because everyone at Hogwarts knew she, Ron, and Neville were Harry's friends.
So even though Hermione and the others now called Harry "mentor" like everyone else, no one truly believed their relationship was that simple.
"Don't be upset, Hermione," Penelope said with a smile. "They're just nervous, you know. This kind of environment is a bit overwhelming for us."
"…You're right," Hermione took a deep breath, forcing a smile.
For these young wizards, the Forbidden Forest at night—especially this pitch-black, fingers-outstretched-but-nothing-visible forest—was utterly terrifying. Strange sounds came from all directions: not just insect chirps, but rustling noises of something crawling or brushing against leaves. Bushes at the edge of the torchlight swayed occasionally, sending their thoughts into disarray.
Terry Boot had just thought he'd seen some twinkling fireflies and excitedly tried to point them out to his companions. But then the "fireflies" moved in unison, blinking on and off—they weren't fireflies at all, but the eyes of some unknown creature watching the group.
This delayed realization left several of them speechless with fear, as the eerie green lights had been numerous—dense, even.
This suppressed terror was why they instinctively tried to fill the silence, craving the sound of each other's voices.
"Everyone, listen to me," Penelope said seriously. "I may only be Ravenclaw's prefect, but given the unusual circumstances, unless you have a compelling reason to act on your own, it's best to follow my lead and stick together. This is the Forbidden Forest. Even for many adult wizards, it's dangerous enough."
She didn't voice the fact that the forest had directly or indirectly led to the disappearance of several Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, keeping that thought to herself to avoid causing panic.
"Ahem, she's right, Penelope's got a point," Roger Davies, one of the older apprentices, coughed and chimed in. "Thank Merlin we've got these torches to light the way. I wouldn't let mine go out now for anything."
Filch, trailing at the back, snorted coldly. To prevent these youngsters from messing up and tarnishing his mentor's reputation, he'd volunteered to take the rear—a position no one else wanted. But he had no intention of joining their chatter.
"Wait, do you hear something?" Padma Patil suddenly spoke up, tilting her head to locate the source. "It sounds like… shouting?"
In an instant, it was as if someone had clamped their throats shut. No one made a sound.
They could still hear the constant insect chirps from when they'd entered the forest, mixed with indistinguishable noises—and now, faintly but undeniably, the sound of shouting.
It sounded like someone roaring, though the words were unclear.
All eyes turned to Penelope, and the Ravenclaw prefect proved worthy of their trust.
"Ignore it. Pretend you didn't hear it," Penelope said, her hand tightening around her wand beneath her robes. "Hold your torches steady, grip your wands, and whether it's a spell from Professor Flitwick or a shaman technique, use whatever you're best at the moment something happens. Protect yourselves."
Her words made the apprentices even more tense, but these were necessary precautions. Better to be prepared than caught off guard with no plan.
"We need to move faster," Luna said, raising her torch slightly. "Messali's getting too far ahead."
As if oblivious to the apprentices' unease, the earth elemental continued at its steady pace along the route Harry had set. While they'd paused at the sound of the shouting, it had already moved several meters ahead.
Harry's warning still rang in their ears—they had to stick close to Messali.
With heavy hearts, the apprentices quickened their steps to catch up. It wasn't their imagination—the shouting was growing clearer.
And every now and then, they caught glimpses of flickering firelight, too bright to be fully obscured by the dense, tangled trees of the Forbidden Forest.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze