The forest was colder than expected, the shadows stretching unnaturally long and deep beneath the gibbous moon. Every step away from the castle lights made the silence heavier, your own pulse louder and sharper in your ears—a frantic drum against the quiet.

You stopped at the treeline, the dark mass of the Forbidden Forest looming ahead.

Mattheo at the front, calm and unreadable, his hands in his pockets. Theodore Nott just beside him, a smirk already playing on his lips. Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Lorenzo Berkshire fanned out behind them, a wall of watchful, intent faces.