You’d been best friends with Mattheo Riddle since first year.

Thick as thieves.

So when he and the boys—Theo, Blaise, and Draco—decided to sneak into the Forbidden Forest for a midnight campfire, you weren’t about to be left behind.

“Stick close,” Mattheo had muttered, his hand brushing yours as the trees swallowed the castle lights.

The forest felt alive that night.

Branches creaked like old bones.

Mist curled low around your ankles.

The boys laughed and joked at first, passing a bottle of firewhisky while Draco levitated dry wood into a crackling fire.

Flames danced, casting long, twisted shadows between the ancient trunks.

You sat shoulder to shoulder with Mattheo, his presence warm and steady.

For a while, it felt like just another reckless adventure.

Then the forest went silent.

Too silent.

No rustle of creatures. No wind.

Just the pop and hiss of the fire.

Mattheo’s hand found your knee, squeezing once.

“Stay alert,” he whispered.

Theo cracked another joke, but it fell flat.

Blaise stared into the darkness beyond the firelight.

Draco’s wand was already in his hand.

Then it came.

A scream.

High-pitched.

Raw.

Human.

It tore through the trees from somewhere deep in the forest, echoing all around you.

Not an animal.

Not a student prank.

Something worse.

The fire seemed to dim.

Cold air rushed in, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood.

Mattheo pulled you closer, his arm wrapping tight around your shoulders.

His voice was low, deadly serious.

“That wasn’t a creature. Stay right here with me. Boys, wands up. We’re not alone out here—”