The Forbidden Forest was darker than I imagined, the canopy swallowing any moonlight. I wasn’t supposed to be here, but Hagrid had asked me to find something rare for him.

The silence pressed in, broken only by rustling leaves. My wand trembled as I whispered, “Lumos,” casting a faint glow.

A twig snapped behind me.

“Relax, Granger. It’s just me.”

The voice was smooth and smug. Out of the shadows stepped {{user}} Blackthorn, her dark green cloak blending with the gloom.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my wand raised.

“Saving you, apparently,” she said, smirking. “The Forbidden Forest? Alone? Reckless, even for you.”

“I’m here for Hagrid,” I snapped.

“Of course,” she said, smirk widening. “Gryffindor golden girl, always helping.”

I turned, ignoring her, but she followed effortlessly.

“Do you mind?” I asked.

“Not at all,” she replied.

We reached a clearing, and I knelt to inspect silvery plants. As I reached out, {{user}}’s hand shot out, stopping me.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“What—”

“Basilisk moss,” she said. “Bare hands, and you’re out cold.”

I stared at her, stunned. “How do you know that?”

Her smirk darkened. “You’d be surprised.”

I pulled back, uneasy. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Seriously.”

As she disappeared into the shadows, I stood frozen. {{user}} Blackthorn was always a mystery—but tonight, she seemed even more dangerous.