Chapter 54 — The Forest, the Beast, and the Realization
Days passed.
Each morning, Thomas woke up as usual. He followed his routines—early morning space ability training, breakfast with friends, classes throughout the day, lighthearted mischief with Fred and George, and night study of spells. But despite the familiar pattern, something had changed.
The boy who once brimmed with excitement at every magical discovery now moved through the days like a ghost of his former self. His heart wasn't in the spells he learned, no matter how quickly he mastered them. Even the thrill of FLASH, his newest Space ability, brought no comfort. The memory of the spreading ice curse—and the student hurt because of it—haunted him.
He had promised himself he would do better. That he would protect others from his recklessness. That meant pushing the discovery of the other Vaults far from his thoughts. But guilt wasn't so easily banished.
Fred and George noticed.
They didn't know the cause. Thomas hadn't shared the truth about the Vault or the curse. But they could see something was wrong. He was quieter. Less eager. Less… Thomas.
They didn't say anything at first. But their jokes grew gentler, their pranks less ambitious. On Wednesday, they even skipped their usual evening hallway patrol, choosing instead to sit beside Thomas in the Gryffindor common room and silently build a card tower from a magically shuffling Exploding Snap deck.
By Friday, Fred had had enough.
"That's it," he said suddenly after dinner, slamming his hand down and causing the tower to explode in a puff of sparks.
Thomas blinked, startled. "Huh?"
"You, mate," Fred said, pointing at him dramatically, "are in dire need of a real adventure."
George crossed his arms with a grin. "I mean an actual, honest-to-Merlin, rule-breaking adventure."
Thomas sighed. "I'm not really in the mood—"
"You will be," Fred interrupted. "We're going to the Forbidden Forest."
Thomas straightened. "What?"
"Forbidden. Forest," George repeated. "The trees. The creatures. The near-death experience. It's everything you need to start smiling again."
Thomas hesitated. But he could see the concern behind their mischievous grins.
That night, under the cover of the usual Gryffindor chaos and Percy's distracted prefect duties, the trio slipped out of the common room with practiced ease. They moved quietly past moving staircases, ducked under floating lanterns, and exited through a hidden passage that George discovered in their first week.
Cool night air met their faces as they crept across the grounds, their wand tips lit with soft Lumos charms. The forest loomed ahead like a wall of darkness.
Thomas hesitated for a heartbeat. But then he looked at the twins, smiling and carefree, and followed.
The forest was quiet—eerily so. Trees twisted overhead, blocking out the moonlight. The only sounds were their careful footsteps and the occasional chirp of a nocturnal creature.
"Don't wander," George whispered. "We want fun, not fatalities."
Fred grinned and gestured forward. "This way."
They followed a faint trail, stepping over roots and ducking under low branches. The deeper they went, the more alive the forest felt. Glowing mushrooms blinked like stars on fallen logs. Winged beetles buzzed past, their wings trailing faint light.
Then they saw it—a tiny creature peeking out from behind a bark-split tree. Thin, twig-like fingers curled around the trunk.
"Is that a Bowtruckle?" Thomas whispered.
"Sure is," Fred beamed. "Cute little thing, yeah?"
The Bowtruckle blinked its mossy eyes at them, then zipped up the tree faster than their eyes could track.
Thomas allowed himself a small smile. "It's… amazing. I've only read about them."
George leaned in. "See? Already better than sulking in the common room."
Thomas chuckled softly. "Maybe a little."
That's when the growl came.
Low. Deep. Close.
The three froze. The underbrush rustled nearby, and out of the shadows came a massive black dog, eyes gleaming yellow under their wands' light.
"RUN!" Fred shouted.
They scattered.
Thomas darted left, diving between trees, his heart pounding. The dog gave chase, its heavy paws crashing through fallen leaves. He leapt over a log, heard the snap of twigs behind him, and turned sharply right—
Only to crash straight into a tree trunk and fall backward, breath knocked out of him.
The dog pounced—
"FANG! DOWN, BOY!"
The voice cut through the night like a spell.
The dog stopped mid-lunge and backed away with a sheepish whine.
Hagrid stomped into view, lantern swinging. He glared at the dog, then turned his attention to the three Gryffindors now regrouping behind him.
"What're yeh lot doin' out 'ere?" he roared. "Yeh know it's dangerous!"
Fred raised his hands in mock surrender. "Adventure?"
George added, "Also education. We saw a Bowtruckle."
"You saw a—! You're lucky that's all yeh saw! The forest's full o' things far less friendly than a Bowtruckle!"
Thomas stepped forward, guilt rising in him again. "I'm sorry. It was my idea."
Fred and George looked at him, surprised.
Hagrid softened slightly. "Well… I suppose no harm done, this time. But next time—an' I better not hear of a next time—I'll be marchin' yeh straight to Dumbledore meself."
They all nodded quickly.
After a moment, Thomas tilted his head. "Um… Hagrid?"
"Aye?"
"What kinds of… creatures live in the forest? Besides Bowtruckles and Fang?"
Hagrid's eyes lit up. "Oh, loads of 'em! Thestrals, unicorns, Acromantulas—though yeh best steer clear of those—hippogriffs sometimes wander in, centaurs deep in the heart…"
He continued listing them as they walked back toward the castle. Despite the late hour, Hagrid seemed thrilled to share his knowledge, his voice rising in enthusiasm with every new creature mentioned.
Thomas listened intently. With each word, he felt the weight in his chest ease just a little.
"Some say there's even dragons once nested out here," Hagrid added proudly. "Though no one's seen one in years."
Fred whispered, "He's gonna go all night."
George grinned. "Think we've replaced 'sad Thomas' with 'magizoologist Thomas'."
Thomas didn't respond. He was still thinking.
When they finally returned to the castle and crept back into their dormitory undetected, Thomas sat at the edge of his bed and looked out the window. The forest swayed in the wind beyond the grounds, mysterious and alive.
The next morning, something was different.
Not in the world—but in Thomas.
He woke up with a sense of calm. His guilt hadn't vanished, but it no longer drowned him. He had faced danger and curiosity in one night. He had been reckless, yes—but he had also learned something vital.
Sometimes, the past held things you couldn't fix.
But the future was something you could build.
He thought back to the notebook from the Ice Vault. The secrets it held. The keys to greater magic. But also… the danger.
Thomas reached into his drawer and pulled out the broken wand—the one said to be the key to the Fear Vault in the library.
He stared at it.
Then he opened a small compartment in the base of his trunk, hidden beneath a fold of enchanted cloth. Carefully, he placed the wand inside and sealed the compartment shut.
No more vaults. Not for now.
He owed that much to the students around him. To Hogwarts. To Sister Mary.
That day, Thomas returned to his schedule. He trained his Space abilities in the early mornings, weaving precision and speed into FLASH, REACH, and his still-growing arsenal. At night, he switched to spellwork—wand-focused incantations and textbook charms, determined to keep mastering both schools of magic.
In Charms, he mastered the Wingardium Leviosa charm before most of the class. In Potions, he offered a suggestion for adjusting the fluxweed boiling time that impressed even Snape—who grunted noncommittally but didn't subtract points, which was basically high praise.
Fred and George watched him with satisfied grins.
"Welcome back," George said that evening as they studied in the common room.
Thomas looked up from his notes. "Thanks."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "You ready to start living again?"
Thomas smiled for the first time in days. "Not just living. Growing."