For a few seconds, silence reigned. All three looked at each other. Arya said:
"I'm going into the forest. One of you keep watch, the other return to the castle. This way, we'll draw less attention."
Scorpius and Albus nodded in agreement. Arya took a deep breath and stepped back. Before their astonished eyes, her form shifted—an elegant phoenix rose where she had stood. The phoenix flapped its wings and soared away from them.
Arya felt a strange sensation, as though she had reclaimed her true form. She swallowed the cold wind and felt a surge of freedom. Once past the barrier, she picked up speed, letting out a cry of delight—a sharp, birdlike trill escaped her beak.
She looked around joyfully, marvelling at the incredible flexibility of her neck. She darted through the trees, inhaling the scent of wildflowers as she passed.
Suddenly, she remembered her mission. She lowered her altitude slightly and scanned the area. There was no sign of the creature. Then, a black branch of a tree, about a metre away, caught her attention. She landed gently. That same black curse was creeping up the tree's bark. Nearby, a scrap of fabric—likely torn from a cloak—was caught in the brambles. Arya guessed it belonged to a professor.
A distant clattering sound echoed through the forest, and Arya realised she had ventured deep within. She leapt swiftly onto a branch, but it wasn't enough to escape the notice of the towering centaurs who had gathered nearby. A group of nearly fifteen had set up camp near the tree. Their equine legs and human torsos were striking. One of them appeared gravely wounded and was letting out anguished cries.
Their conversation floated through the woods:
"Chief, do you think he'll survive?"
"I'm sorry, Erik. I can't say for sure. I warned all of you not to approach that black curse!"
"But it's the humans' fault! They're poisoning our forest with their meddling. And you still insist on peace with them?"
The centaur leader fell silent, his face burdened with exhaustion, the weight of leadership clear in his expression.
"There was a time I believed peace with humans was possible. I still do. But we must not sacrifice ourselves for them. This… this seems to have been an accident. As soon as they realised the danger, they tried to contain it."
Arya was about to fly away when one of the centaurs noticed her and approached with fascination.
"Chief, it's a phoenix! A real phoenix!" he exclaimed as he drew closer to the tree. But his expression quickly turned grim—he, too, had recognised the cursed root.
"Even here, the corruption has spread," he said, extending a hand for Arya to perch.
She was frightened—like a creature wary of its hunter. Her senses were sharpened, her emotions pared down to their most basic forms. She had never been this close to a centaur before, and being alone among them unsettled her more than anything else.
But the centaur spoke again, as if reading the hesitation in her eyes.
"Don't worry. We won't harm you. But could you do something for our friend? He's injured… we know your tears have healing powers."
Arya's doubts melted away. She fluttered her wings gently and settled on his hand. Erik carried her over to the other centaurs. Now she could see them all clearly—a weary band led by a wise commander. One of the centaurs lay collapsed, writhing in pain, letting out the occasional shrill whinny.
Nearby, several male and female centaurs stood watching. The leader gave her a warm smile.
"We're glad you're here, phoenix. Please, help our friend. He's in a dire state."
Arya flew from Erik's hand and landed beside the injured centaur. His arm bore a deep gash, with the black curse creeping steadily up. Arya feared her tears might not be enough, but she had to try. She gently rested her head against his wound. A few glistening drops fell from her eyes.
The wound closed, but the dark curse continued to creep upward. The centaur's cries quietened, and Arya felt a rush of relief.
The centaur chief smiled.
"Thank you. I hope someday we can repay your kindness."
Arya bowed her head, her beak nearly brushing the earth, and then took flight towards the edge of the forest.
"Farewell, child of man," said the centaur softly.
All the centaurs bowed their heads to her.
As Arya passed through the protective barrier, she gently descended. No one seemed to be around, so she quietly returned to her human form. Looking once more at her robes and hands, a wave of melancholy washed over her—she already missed the joy of flying. A few metres away, she spotted Scorpius, seated on a stone.
"Good thing you're back—I was starting to panic. What took you so long?"
"I had a run-in with the centaurs. But everything's fine. Come on, let's go."
Together, they headed towards the Slytherin dungeon. As they hurried along, Arya asked, "Did Albus make it back to the common room?"
"Yeah. I figured he'd look more suspicious than me, so it made more sense for me to stay behind."
"Did anyone see you?"
"I don't think so. I was careful. I had a story ready in case a teacher caught me—I was looking for some clove-rooted plants!"
"Clove-rooted… what?"
"Clove-rooted plants. Professor Longbottom talked about them a few days ago. Do you ever pay attention in Herbology?"
"Right… I'd forgotten. I haven't cracked open my Herbology book in weeks."
They were nearing the entrance to the common room when suddenly someone appeared in front of them—it was James Potter, Albus's brother.
"Mind telling me what you're doing wandering the corridors at this time of night?"
"I think we should be asking you that question. Gryffindor Tower's quite a walk from here."
James gave Arya a sly smile. "I was just here to see my brother."
Arya replied curtly, "Well now you have, so move out of our way!" She brushed past him, but James's next words stopped them both in their tracks.
"By the way—I saw you enter the forest. How'd you manage to break through McGonagall's barrier? I doubt she'd be too pleased to find out."
They turned to face him. Arya's heart was pounding—she was too furious to speak.
Under her breath, she whispered to Scorpius, "How the hell does he know?"
"He must've seen us on the Marauder's Map," Scorpius answered aloud, raising his voice, "Right, James. Time for you to get back to your own common room—and maybe stop poking your nose into other people's business!"
Without waiting for a reply, they both turned and walked briskly toward the stone wall.
Inside the Slytherin common room, the space was still crowded. A group of third-years were huddled around a single book. Arya spotted Albus and sat down across from him.
"Well? How was it?"
After Arya recounted the entire story, she took a deep breath.
Albus looked thoughtful. "So… you didn't find anything? The creature's not in the forest?"
"Seems that way," she replied.
There was a moment of silence. Then Scorpius asked suddenly, "When did you become an Animagus, Arya?"
Arya raised her index finger to her lips and hushed him. In a lower voice, she said, "Don't say it out loud, Scorp. No one can know. I'm what we call a Skin-Walker back in America."
She went on, "I actually decided last summer to become one. Animagi under seventeen are technically illegal where I come from, and if they find out, I'll be in serious trouble. So will my dad—he helped me a lot. I'm not great with potions, so he had to teach me and make sure Mum didn't suspect anything. But I could only fly with him in the mountains. It had been ages since I'd flown like that."
She smiled faintly at the memory.
Albus asked, "Wait, so you used your transformation to get into the Restricted Section that day too?"
Arya glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Yeah. I think Filch might've seen me, but he didn't say anything. I mean, a phoenix at Hogwarts isn't exactly unusual, right?"
Scorpius replied, "I don't think anyone's had one since Dumbledore."
Albus added, "Filch is practically blind these days. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't tell a phoenix from a hat stand."
Suddenly, Arya remembered James and asked anxiously, " You really think your brother saw us?"
Albus nodded. "Apparently, he was looking at the Marauder's Map and spotted us near the Forbidden Forest. He saw you going in and waited for me to come back to the common room so he could warn me. He asked a few questions about you."
Arya's face turned pale, her heart racing.
"You didn't tell him anything, did you?"
"No, of course not. I just told him it was a dare—you'd bet you could get past the barrier, and you did."
"And he believed that?"
"I told him you used a wandless spell. Said I couldn't figure out how you managed it."
Arya sighed with relief.
"And did he buy it?"
"More or less."
Scorpius, who was taking his books out, interjected, " I just don't get it—why would your brother be tracking you on the map in the first place"
Albus shrugged. "No idea. Maybe Mum told him to keep an eye out or something."
Arya suggested, "Or maybe he was just casually glancing at the forest and happened to spot us."
Silence fell again. Then, all three took out their books and began tackling their homework.
Arya headed up to the dormitory and took off her cloak. She tried to replay the day's events in her mind—it had been a strange one. Though she felt somewhat relieved, a lingering worry still gnawed at her. What would her father say if he found out she'd transformed at school? And heaven forbid if McGonagall ever found out—she could already imagine the headmistress grinning as she expelled her.
The memory of James's warning suddenly flashed in her mind, and she thought to herself: He'll never rat me out. He just wanted me to know that he knows.
But there was something else troubling Arya—something far more unsettling. For the past couple of weeks, every few days she'd wake up to find phoenix feathers scattered across her bed. She was terrified she might have transformed in her sleep. The idea haunted her, and some nights she couldn't sleep at all.
Logically, she knew it was impossible to transform without awareness… but she was still young, and there was so much about shapeshifting she didn't yet understand. The thought of waking up one morning to a room full of screaming students who'd found a bird in her bed sent chills down her spine.
She glanced at her calendar—less than two weeks until Christmas, and still no letter from her father. Lying back on her bed, she shut her eyes, hoping tomorrow might be a better day.
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