Maurise quickly figured out how to get his hands on dragon's blood. The thod was laughably simple.
Just buy it.
Of course, for a first-year student like him, purchasing heavily restricted magical ingredients through official channels was practically impossible. Even if he could, the allowed quantity would be pitifully small, nowhere near what he needed.
So, only one option remained: Knockturn Alley.
After writing to his contact, Frick, for advice, Maurise learned that dragon's blood was actually a relatively common commodity in Knockturn Alley.
Yes, common.
Dragons were powerful and protected, but not invincible. There were always a few reckless wizards or poachers who managed to harvest their parts. However, availability was one thing, and affordability was entirely another.
To sum it up in one sentence: he was completely broke.
While Maurise was racking his brain for ways to farm Galleons efficiently, a juicy piece of gossip swept through the Hogwarts student body. Harry and two other Gryffindors had blatantly violated school rules and lost a staggering one hundred and fifty points.
At first, Maurise refused to believe it. One hundred and fifty points! What on earth did Harry do to lose that much? Did he publicly cast the Killing Curse in the Great Hall? Even getting caught out of bed at midnight wouldn't incur such a massive penalty.
It wasn't until he walked past the entrance hall and saw the severely depleted Gryffindor hourglass that he accepted the harsh reality. Did they actually form an underground dark magic study group?
Driven by curiosity, he sought out Harry.
Looking absolutely miserable, Harry explained the whole fiasco. "We were just trying to get Norbert the dragon out of the castle," Harry mumbled, looking down at his shoes. "Professor McGonagall caught us. Malfoy was tailing us, but she just assud we were pulling an elaborate prank to get him out of bed and in trouble."
To top it off, they didn't just lose points; they also landed themselves in detention. Maurise could only offer a few sympathetic pats on the shoulder. Honestly, that was so spectacularly terrible luck.
Hogwarts final exams were scheduled for the first week of June, making May the official revision month.
The atmosphere inside the castle underwent a drastic shift, becoming thick with academic anxiety. The usual laughter and roughhousing in the corridors died down. Instead, students could be seen everywhere, clutching textbooks with furrowed brows. The sll of ink and old parchnt in the library grew much heavier. Even the Weasley twins hit pause on their chaotic joke-shop research and dedicated themselves to studying, practically living among the bookshelves.
Maurise, however, remained the picture of calm. He didn't care about his final grades in the slightest. Since this was his second go at life, he had long since stopped stressing over such trivial matters. Even if he failed every single subject, it wouldn't change the grand sche of things, would it?
Still, slightly infected by the tense environnt, he casually reviewed his first-year material anyway.
As May drew to a close, Maurise prepared for another trip into the Forbidden Forest.
It was a cloudless midnight. Maurise slipped out of the Ravenclaw common room as silently as a shadow, expertly dodging Filch's patrol route, and snuck out of the castle through a side door.
Upon reaching the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he swept his robes aside, activated his magical array, and summoned his skeletal unicorn. He vaulted effortlessly onto its back. Simultaneously, his signature bone mask slowly materialized over his face.
He had this entire routine down to a science.
"To the usual spot," he whispered.
His target, naturally, was the dragon bones buried deep underground. The skeletal unicorn broke into a run, weaving gracefully and rapidly through the dense trees.
Recently, Maurise had upgraded the saddle he used for the undead beast. The new and improved seat not only offered superior comfort but also featured excellent magical shock absorption. Even at top speed, there was absolutely no turbulence. Maurise felt the night wind rushing past him and completely relaxed.
Now this is living, he thought.
However, this particular expedition hit a snag almost imdiately. Less than ten minutes into the forest, Maurise ran headfirst into a herd of centaurs.
Thus, a familiar ga of cat and mouse began.
The outco, of course, went without saying. This ti, the centaurs gave up even faster, chasing him for a re thirty seconds before trotting away.
"Boring," Maurise muttered, glancing back at the fading figures of the centaurs with a sigh.
He guessed the centaurs had finally realized he wasn't actually there to cause havoc in their forest. After all, he had never hard a living creature in front of them, nor had he ever engaged them in direct combat. The only thing that probably offended their sensibilities was his choice of a creepy skeletal mount.
With the coast clear, Maurise resud his journey. He deliberately slowed his pace, soaking in the tranquility of the night. It was pure bliss.
"Ahhhhhh!"
A shrill, bloodcurdling scream suddenly shattered the quiet of the Forbidden Forest. It sounded young. Like a child.
Was there another student taking a midnight stroll in the woods? Maurise imdiately spurred his skeletal unicorn, galloping toward the source of the sound at breakneck speed. It took him only half a minute to reach the area.
The scene before him completely defied his expectations.
A figure shrouded in a dark, hooded cloak was kneeling on the ground, leaning hungrily over sothing. Right in front of the figure lay a unicorn. It was dead still. Silvery blood pooled from its neck, shimring with an eerie, cursed glow under the moonlight.
Even more surprisingly, Harry Potter was standing just a short distance away, his face pale as a sheet, staring blankly at the grueso sight.
Oh, it wasn't just Harry. Malfoy and Fang, Hagrid's cowardly boarhound, were supposed to be there too. Well, never mind. The mont Maurise arrived, Malfoy and Fang had already scrambled away on all fours, fleeing without a single backward glance. Only Harry stood frozen in place.
Maurise figured he didn't need to worry about Harry's safety. Right behind the boy, a silver blur was rapidly approaching. A centaur. The centaur was clearly coming to Harry's rescue.
Maurise hesitated for exactly one second.
The next mont, he commanded his skeletal unicorn to charge full speed right at the cloaked figure.
Thud!
With a dull, heavy impact, the skeletal unicorn's rock-hard head slamd squarely into the target. The cloaked figure let out an agonizing, inhuman shriek, flying through the air before crashing heavily into the dirt several ters away.
Maurise was almost certain the guy was Quirrell. But using a possessed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as a bowling pin wasn't his primary goal.
As the skeletal unicorn had charged, Maurise already had his wand gripped tightly in his hand. A Shrinking Charm shot precisely at the dead unicorn on the ground. With a swift flick of his wand, the miniaturized corpse flew into the air and was gently caught in the skeletal unicorn's jaws.
The entire heist happened in the blink of an eye.
"Go!" Maurise commanded.
He imdiately steered his undead steed around and fled the cri scene at maximum velocity. He would never actively hunt a unicorn himself. But hey, if there was perfectly good loot just lying around, why let it go to waste?
Snatching free magical materials right out of Quirrell's hands didn't give him a single shred of guilt. In fact, it gave him a strangely exhilarating rush.
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