Ron Weasley walked towards the Forbidden Forest, his wand hanging loosely by his side. He trudge morosely pass the tall trees, his eyes darting around, his wand held tightly. Shadows darkened the path ahead.

 

            “Lumos,” Ron muttered pointing his wand in front of him. The pathway was clear now. He continued walking his footsteps dampened by the thick undergrowth. And then he saw it.

 

            It was big; it was heavy, and it was . . . asleep. Grawp’s snores broke the silence of the night. Moonlight glinted on the object he held in his arms close to his chest. Ron’s goal.

 

            Ron crept closer, silently. The hunt had begun.

 

* * * *

 

 

            Magorian galloped through the undergrowth, his hooves carefully treading nothing but damp soil. His bow held at the ready, a quiver of bows strapped tightly to his back. His centaur eyes adapted easily to the darkness.

 

            He could see the individual blades of the grass as easily as if it were daylight. Twigs littered the ground. Magorian stepped carefully without a sound. He tightened his grip on his bow. And there it was.

 

            It was already open, which meant that somebody had already been there before. Good, he need not wrest it from the giant. The thrill of the hunt sent shivers down his spine. Silently, he trotted forward.

 

* * * *

 

  

                       

            The pack leader sniffed the ground. The unmistakable scent of flesh assailed him. The hunt will prove successful. Saliva dripped from his snout as he anticipated the feast that awaited him. His pack surrounded him, their eyes questioning. The pack leader howled and loped off.

 

* * * *

 

            Ron moved away on silent feet. A light breeze cooled his face. A cold trickle of sweat ran down his back, as he made for Aragog’s lair.

 

            Click! Click! Click! Ron froze but he quelled a sudden surge of fear inside of him. He averted his yes from the rows of spiders looking menacingly at him and stared instead at the sleeping Acromantula. A glint of silver on its back told Ron all he needed to know.

 

            “Wingardium Leviosa,” he whispered. The silver box rose in to the air and came towards him. Ron caught it and read the parchment within. He closed it and disappeared, reappearing on Aragog’s back.

 

                        “Accio Cleansweep!”

 

            His broom sped towards him. Aragog shifted. Ron clambered on the board and flew silently over the spiders to the woods beyond.

 

* * * *

 

            Magorian galloped towards the clearing. Click! Click! Click! Came the unmistakable sound of spiders. Magorian pulled out his vile of Everlasting Fire, and lit his bow. With a roar, he ran forward.

 

            Pincers scratched his legs, but Magorian ignored the searing pain. His hoofs trampled those foolish to meet his charge. As he approached the Acromantula, he gave a giant leap.

 

Aragog roared in anger as the centaur’s hooves smashed at his face.  He slapped the centaur with one leg and smelled the unmistakable scent of blood. Then, he howled in pain as the centaur’s arrow clipped his side. Magorian staggered forwards, blood flowing from his side. He pulled out the parchment and read its contents then fled from the spiders.

 

* * * *

The werewolves arrived at the clearing where the last of the spiders had cleared away. The pack leader tasted blood, and he surged forward, burying his nose to a patch of dark stained grass. They were on the right track.

 

                                                           * * * *

 

Ron jumped off his broom and slung it over his shoulder. He pulled out his wand and stared at the cave mouth.

 

‘‘Lumos” he whispered.

 

The cave lit up immediately, but the spell’s effect only covered 2 meters in front of him. Ron started forward but stopped as he sensed someone behind him.

 

“Well, boy, you’ve gotten this far haven’t you?” Magorian cried galloping past him. “Why you…!” Ron’s words trailed off to nothingness. Muttering darkly about cheaters, he ran after Magorian.

 

* * * *

 

           

Magorian laughed as he galloped off, leaving the human idiot behind him. As he galloped, head thrown back in convulsive laughter, he failed to notice the six silent shadows that ran past him. Only when he stopped laughing that he realized that he was screwed.

 

There, surrounding him was a phalanx formation of snarling, salivating werewolves.

 

   * * * *

 

Ron Weasley clambered half-heartedly through the cave irritated that Magorian had overtaken him. He noticed that a patch of the ground was covered in hoof prints. Probably where Magorian did his victory dance, Ron thought. He laughed at the idea of the centaur doing a Muggle tap dance.

 

He arrived at a chamber and in front of him were four doors. “Oh, this is easy. It’s either the first door or the last door. I’ve seen it in Muggle movies.” He said to no one.

 

Absently, he noticed that there were no hoof prints in the chamber. Ron opened the first door. A flock of bats flew towards him brandishing deadly fangs as they flew past.

“Incendio!”

 

 The chamber was filled with a brilliant light. The bats shrieked and fell to the ground. “Wrong door!” he muttered. He walked towards the last door, and saw a stream of red light coming towards him from a rod attached to the wall.

 

“Protego!”

 

The stunning spell rebounded, smashing the rod and temporarily disarming the trap. “Okay .So, I was wrong.” muttered Ron to himself.

 

He opened the second door and a deadly looking plant waved its tentacles threathingly. Ron shut the door immediately as a tentacle came speeding towards him.

 

That left the third door. Wand at the ready, Ron pushed it open and sidestepped. Nothing came out. He peered inside and saw the object of his quest, the trophy. He ran inside, and clutched it just as a bloodied Magorian burst into the room.

 

 

* * * *

 

Ron blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight streaming into a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, as a thunderous applause greeted him. Ron positively beamed as the whole school applauded him. Dumbledore’s voice, magnified ten times, boomed “Ronald Weasley, the champion of the Forbidden Forest Challenge.”