"Let me see, we've got to have a drink! Where'd I put that butterbeer? Oh, wait, you're only twelve, aren't you, Edward? But a little sip won't hurt, right?" Hagrid glanced at Edward with a questioning look.

Edward grinned and nodded.

He was actually curious to try butterbeer himself. He'd only ever had the non-alcoholic kind before.

"That's the spirit! Here's to this adorable little dragon!" Hagrid poured two mugs of butterbeer, then chugged his own in one go.

"Ever since I met you last time, I knew you were solid. Harry and the others are always going on about you—Edward got praised in class again, Edward used some spell no one's ever seen before. Every time they mention it, Hermione gets all huffy," Hagrid chuckled, refilling his mug.

"Hagrid, I agreed to help you, but in return, I'd like you to tell me something," Edward said, his tone suddenly serious.

Hagrid's mug froze mid-air.

"Er, alright, what is it? But if it's about the Philosopher's Stone, I'm not saying a word. That's top secret!"

"Not even Harry and the others know," he added.

"No, it's not that. First off, did you tell Professor Dumbledore about what happened last night? What did he say?" Edward asked, locking eyes with Hagrid.

It was the thing weighing most on his mind.

"Oh, that? Dumbledore said he'd keep an eye on it. Told me to be careful and maybe round up the unicorns in the forest, keep 'em together," Hagrid said in his booming voice. "That's a bit tricky, mind you. Unicorns are some of the hardest magical creatures to track, but there's only a few of 'em."

"It's strange, isn't it? Someone trying to kill a unicorn—that's a serious crime! Not just legally, but magically. Drinking unicorn blood might keep you alive, but it's a cursed life, a half-life. Who'd want that?" Hagrid mused.

A half-life?

Edward knew about unicorn blood—its powers and its terrible side effects. But last night, he hadn't even considered it.

No living person, no normal person, not even someone chasing immortality, would want just half a life.

The only ones desperate enough for a cursed half-life were those already living something worse—something more miserable than a cursed existence.

But then again, if there was a better option, who'd choose a cursed life at all?

The Philosopher's Stone.

Edward's eyes lit up.

The true mastermind behind this was becoming clear.

In the entire wizarding world, who'd been lurking for years, waiting for a chance to rise again? Who was barely clinging to life, half-dead, coveting that red stone?

Voldemort—the Dark Lord whose name most dared not speak.

Edward wasn't afraid to say the name. Avoiding it wouldn't solve anything. Still, the realization hit him like a cold gust of wind.

If Voldemort was after the Philosopher's Stone, what was Dumbledore waiting for? Was he expecting Harry Potter, an eleven-year-old who'd only been in the magical world for six months, to save the day again and foil Voldemort's plans?

And worse, there might be a Death Eater's shadow lurking behind all this.

"Edward, did I say something wrong?" Hagrid asked, noticing Edward's increasingly grim expression. He looked a bit panicked. "Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone you lot broke school rules by going into the Forbidden Forest last night. Dumbledore didn't ask either."

"Oh, Hagrid, it's not that," Edward said, quickly masking his concern with a slightly forced smile. "I think I get it. If Dumbledore knows about this, I'm relieved. But I've got another question—about magical creatures."

"Oh, magical creatures! I knew you'd be into them. Ask away, I'll tell you everything I know!" Hagrid thumped his chest, looking delighted.

"Those Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest—are they connected to you, Hagrid?" Edward asked calmly.

Hagrid froze. He reached for his tea, but his hands shook so badly the cup slipped, shattering on the floor. Tea splashed all over Fang, who barked furiously.

"Easy, Hagrid, just a question. Reparo," Edward said, flicking his wand to restore the cup perfectly to the table.

"Oh, I'm fine, not nervous at all—I mean—" Hagrid lowered his voice. "How'd you know, Edward?"

"Acromantulas come from Southeast Asian rainforests. They didn't just crawl all the way to the Scottish Highlands, did they?" Edward said with a smile. "Plus, your attitude last night gave it away. You know those spiders well. You told them not to eat people, and you didn't want to hurt them."

"Everyone's got secrets. I was just curious," Edward added.

Hagrid's bearded face flushed slightly. "You're right, Edward. They've got a bit to do with me," he mumbled. "It's a complicated story, not a good one. Can we talk about it later? If you still want to hear it, I'll tell you."

"No problem, Hagrid. We'll talk later," Edward said, nodding as he stood to leave.

Hagrid stuffed a pile of rock cakes into his hands as he went.

But just a few steps outside, Edward heard a spirited whinny. A beautiful creature with a horn on its forehead galloped toward him from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"You came to see me! I knew you would!" The unicorn circled Edward twice before settling beside him, letting him stroke its silky white mane.

"Blimey, you're a natural with magical creatures! I've got to introduce you to Newt sometime," Hagrid said, stepping out to join them. "She's healing fast. I don't know what you used to stop the bleeding, but I've been using a different herb now, and it's working well. A few more days, and she'll be back in the forest."

"Oh, and I was thinking—you should give her a name," Hagrid added.

"Would you like that?" Edward asked the unicorn. "You know what a name means, right?"

"Of course! A name, like your name, Edward!" The unicorn seemed thrilled.

Edward thought for a moment, then a name came to him. "How about Llamrei? In our legends, that was the name of King Arthur's warhorse."

"Llamrei! I have a name!" The unicorn reared up, letting out an excited whinny.

To anyone else, it might've looked like Llamrei was about to attack, but Edward and Hagrid knew she was just overjoyed.

"Calm down, Llamrei. I've got a question," Edward said, gently stroking her back.

Llamrei stilled, waiting.

"Did you see the face of the person who attacked you last night?"

Voldemort was defeated by Harry Potter eleven years ago—everyone in the wizarding world knew that. He was barely more than a wraith now, so he couldn't have hunted a unicorn alone. Someone in the castle, among the staff, had to be under his control.

The moonlight was bright last night. Maybe Llamrei had seen something?

But her answer disappointed him. The curse had come too fast. She hadn't even reacted before it knocked her to the ground, leaving her unable to get up. All she remembered was a tall figure in a black cloak and hood, their face completely hidden.

Edward didn't press her to relive the nightmare. He played with her a bit longer, then, with her reluctant gaze following him, headed back to the castle for lunch.

At lunch, his mind was consumed with the mystery. Who was Voldemort's servant?

Edward decided not to share his suspicions with anyone—not Malfoy, Daphne, Pansy, or even Harry, Ron, and Hermione. This was far beyond what any student should handle.

A half-dead Voldemort, a shadowy Death Eater, and an unknown servant—all lurking in Hogwarts?

Worse, Dumbledore might already suspect something but was choosing not to act, perhaps waiting for the right moment.

The Philosopher's Stone could be bait—a trap to lure Voldemort and anyone after it.

When Voldemort finally took the bait, maybe then Dumbledore, the master strategist, would make his move.

But who could say how much chaos Voldemort would stir up before that happened? Trolls, enchanted broomsticks, rogue Bludgers, unicorns—what was next?

What could Edward do? He was stumped.

The teachers wouldn't act—Dumbledore had his plan. The students didn't know and shouldn't know, or it'd cause panic, playing right into Voldemort's hands.

But Edward had one advantage: he was in the dark, just like Voldemort. While Dumbledore and Voldemort played their game of cat and mouse, Edward could be the one watching, ready to act.

If he kept his eyes open, he might stop Voldemort before he got to the Stone. Edward didn't know who the servant was, but he knew exactly where the Stone was hidden—the fourth-floor corridor on the right. All he had to do was watch it.

With his plan set, Edward finally felt a sense of calm return.