Begotten

Distracted from her lineage with the news of the Philosopher’s stone, Moriah did everything in her power to find out exactly what it was and what it could do. Not only was it for immortality, but according to the principles of alchemy, it was also supposed to be able to turn anything to gold. Apparently, Snape wanted to both live forever and be something of a Midas.

She didn’t speak of it to anyone but the trio of Gryffindors. Sheila was a friend of hers, but she was still a Slytherin and respected Snape enough to defend him. Moriah, on the other hand, spent most of her time in Potions analyzing everything the man did, from the way he stood to the way he scolded his students. Her dislike for him was growing quickly, and it began to show whenever he critiqued one of her brews. At this point, all Moriah could do was sneer. During one lesson, she even reached the point of irritation to talk back.

“You call this a sleeping draught, Miss Priel?” He had asked, spooning a bit out and scoffing. “This dreadful potion is closer to being pepper up.”

With a twitching eye and lack of a filter, she quickly spit back, “Maybe I wouldn’t be so dreadful at this so-called subtle science if you would actually teach us how to brew instead of screaming at us all the bloody time!”

He had leaned over the table, close enough for Moriah to feel his breath as he spoke, and it made her lean back, not from fear but out of disgust.

“Can’t handle a bit of intimidation? How you got sorted into my house is a mystery to me.”

Her lips pulled away from her teeth, basically baring them to the bat-like man, and the small girl straightened her posture. “Believe me, it wasn’t my choice, Professor.” She then slammed her textbook shut, grabbed it and purposely knocked over her steaming cauldron.

With all eyes on her, Moriah stomped out of the room with Snape shouting after her, “Detention at nine!”

But she couldn’t care. There were much bigger problems at Hogwarts than a little detention. She had already spent one cleaning off old rusty Potions equipment. Doing so once again wouldn’t bother her much if it meant she got the satisfaction of yelling at that horrible excuse for a Potions Master.

The attitude adjustment was extremely amusing to Harry and Ron, though Hermione told her several times that it wasn’t a good idea to get on a professor’s bad side. It wasn’t just his bad side she was getting on, though. The rest of the first-year Slytherins were also beginning to talk behind her back and shoot her dirty looks. Even the girls in her dormitory were avoiding talking to her save for Sheila.

Draco was less than pleased as well, spouting off about mudbloods and blood-traitors whenever Moriah was around, how any pure-blood who associated with them should be ashamed of themselves.

None of them knew, though. Not one of them knew about their beloved head of house plotting to get his hands on the stone and do whatever he liked with it.

That evening, after being stuffed with juicy ham, beans, and all kinds of desserts, Moriah slowly trudged down to the dungeons, turning into the familiar Potions classroom and walking to the old desk at the front. Snape was hunched over it, marking essays and slaughtering them with red ink. He looked up only when the blonde was standing right in front of him, and his expression of boredom mirrored hers.

“Ah, little miss disrespect.”

Moriah only raised an eyebrow. “What is it this time, organizing your papers?”

The man stood up, wrapping his long dark robes around himself. “I’m capable of doing that myself. No, tonight you will have the pleasure of exploring the Forbidden Forest with our dear groundskeeper.”

Detention with Hagrid? That didn’t sound so bad.

He rounded the corner of his desk and side-stepped Moriah, walking briskly to the door. She followed, having to take extra-long strides to keep up with the man as they navigated the damp dungeons.

She could easily recall the opening feast on her first night at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had said that the forest was off limits. It was supposedly very dangerous. Serving detention in it seemed pretty dodgy, but Moriah couldn’t deny that her curiosity was peaked.

The pair exited the castle, walking through the darkness for some time before Hagrid’s small hut came into view. Moriah couldn’t help but grin.

“The forest is no place for smiles, Miss Priel,” Snape spoke without turning around. The man must have had eyes in the back of his head. The blonde thought about sticking her tongue out at him but thought better of it. She wasn’t normally so disrespectful after all. Snape just pushed her buttons… by basically being evil.

Moriah could see six figures in front of the hut, Hagrid casting a shadow over the other five. She was surprised to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing next to the giant and even more taken aback at the fact that Draco was with them. Filch was also there, standing with a lantern and wrapping up what was sure to be a riveting lecture.

She and Snape stopped when she reached them, and the potions master shot Malfoy a look of displeasure. He said nothing, just turned and began walking back to the castle, leaving Moriah to roll her eyes and groan out loud.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Ron said with a snigger.

“You all knew I had detention. Why are you here, though?”

“We’re here because Malfoy’s a dirty rotten snitch, that’s why.”

“Shut your mouth, Weasle-by.”

Moriah elbowed her house mate hard. He narrowed his eyes at her while massaging his arm.

“We were out past curfew. Malfoy was spying,” Harry explained, rolling his own green eyes at the last part, though he didn’t seem as angry as his ginger friend.

“All righ’, you lot ready?” Hagrid stepped in, holding a crossbow. His boarhound, Fang, was standing next to him, drool leaking from his mouth. “Le’s go then.”

The five of them set off for the trees. Ron, Hermione, and Draco seemed to be shaking in their shoes, but Harry and Moriah, on either side of the giant, were far too intrigued by the off limits area to fear it.

“So what exactly are we doing here tonight, Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“Foun’ a dead unicorn the other nigh’. Somethin’s been attackin’ ‘em. It’s our job to find out what.”

“There are unicorns in the forest?” Draco piped up.

Hagrid nodded. “Among other thin’s. Now keep an eye out and keep yer guard up.”

His warning did nothing to calm any nerves, but they walked into the forest anyway, all of them falling silent as they went deeper and deeper. The light of the moon and stars were blocked out by the trees and after some time, they only had the candles flickering inside of glass lanterns to lead them.

It was hard to walk without tripping every few steps. Tree roots and brush seemed to find their feet even when trying to overstep them.

Finally, after several minutes of walking, Hagrid stopped and bent down. There was a puddle of something on the ground. Thick and silver, Moriah had never seen anything like it.

“What is that?” She questioned.

The bearded man looked up wearing a grave expression. “Unicorn blood. It’s been hurt bad.” He sighed and stood up. “Alrigh’, time to split up.” That sounded like an insanely bad idea to the blonde girl, but she said nothing. “Ron, Hermione, you two come with me. Harry, Draco, and Moriah—you three stay together.”

Draco let out something resembling a growl, looking between Harry and Moriah. “Fine, then I get Fang!”

“Alrigh’, but just so’s ya’ know, he’s a bloody coward.”