Chapter Thirty-Eight: Entering the Forbidden Forest

Worried about Professor Kettleburn’s health, Heven woke early the next morning and hurried to the professor’s hut. He knocked on the wooden door and waited outside, feeling a touch of anxiety. It was a long wait—so long that Heven was almost ready to barge in—before Professor Kettleburn finally appeared at the door, his face weary and stubbled.

“Heven?” the professor asked. “What brings you here?”

“Professor, are you feeling alright?” Heven chose his words carefully, speaking with restraint.

The professor looked at him, puzzled. “What could be wrong with me? Let me tell you, I slept like a log last night. I even dreamed about the big cat-leopards I saw in America long ago—those creatures are formidable…”

As he spoke, he suddenly realized something was amiss.

“Wait, how did I fall asleep last night?” He squinted suspiciously at Heven, who was staring guiltily at his own shoes. “And why did I go to bed without taking off my shoes?”

I could say the smell was too much, but…

Of course, Heven didn’t dare say that out loud. Instead, he replied, “Professor, after you made eye contact with my kitten yesterday, you collapsed right there. I had to carry you to bed…”

“She’s just a kitten—she didn’t do it on purpose, and you weren’t harmed. So, could you not punish her…” Concerned for his kitten, Heven began to plead with Professor Kettleburn.

The professor stood dumbfounded for a moment, then suddenly grew excited.

“Cat-leopard! It must be a cat-leopard!” He shook Heven by the shoulders, shouting. “Yellow eyes, adept at hypnosis! Quick, where’s your kitten? This is a major discovery—confirmation that cat-leopards can interbreed with smaller feline species like kneazles!”

“Uh…” Heven was dizzy from all the shaking and quietly slipped free from the professor’s only remaining right hand. Fearing he might seek retribution against his kitten, Heven answered warily, “I didn’t bring her this morning. Maybe tonight?”

“Tonight at seven sharp, then!” Professor Kettleburn declared briskly. “That gives me time to prepare some materials.”

With that, he hurried Heven away and, leaning on his cane, made for the castle in a rush.

Heven shrugged as he watched the professor’s urgent departure, then began his daily morning exercises nearby.

…

Knowing he wouldn’t be back to his dormitory early that evening, Heven spent the day in the library, finishing his week’s assignments. Since it was only the first week of term, the professors hadn’t assigned much: for Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, they simply instructed the students to practice the spells taught in class—something Heven had already mastered and found no trouble with.

For Herbology, the task was to write a seven-inch essay on the methods of handling and storing dittany. Though Heven had missed one class, with the help of Miranda’s top-notch notes—the perennial star student—he completed the assignment easily.

Potions required him to preview some of the finer points in the brewing of the Draught of Living Death. Heven skimmed through the material and, relying on his strong memory, retained most of it.

History of Magic demanded the longest assignment: a one-foot essay on the code of conduct for werewolves. Heven spent considerable effort in the library gathering resources, revising his work until it read passably well. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how Professor Binns, being a ghost, managed to grade homework…

When his assignments were promptly “borrowed” by Abraxas and Mowbray under the guise of reference, Heven had no choice but to scoop up his kitten and head to Professor Kettleburn’s hut.

By the time Heven arrived, the professor was already standing outside, fully equipped. For once, he wasn’t leaning on his cane, but lounged nonchalantly by the pebble-lined path. Today he wore a battered leather aviator cap, a tan jacket with only one sleeve, faded jeans, and a leather canteen and lantern at his belt.

“Professor, your leg?” Heven couldn’t help but stare at the professor’s empty right sleeve and the intact pant leg.

Professor Kettleburn hitched up his trouser and proudly displayed the wooden leg beneath. “This thing does the job splendidly—more than enough to serve as a right leg. See? No need to grow a new one!”

Heven eyed the makeshift limb, which looked little different from an ordinary stick, and fell into silent contemplation.

“Come along, you’re patrolling the Forbidden Forest with me tonight.” The professor waved him forward. “No escaping it this time!”

“But what about my kitten?” Heven asked anxiously.

“Bring her,” the professor replied. “Let her see a bit of the world!”

Heven frowned, still concerned. “But won’t she be in danger?”

“She’s got cat-leopard blood! You’d do better to worry about yourself.” The professor shot him a stern look. “Besides, I know the Forbidden Forest like the back of my hand. There’s nothing to fear, trust me!”

Heven had no choice but to nod and hold his tongue. In truth, he was more than a little curious about the Forbidden Forest himself. After all, at the opening feast, Headmaster Dippet had personally forbidden students from entering.

Wait a minute—Professor Kettleburn says it’s not dangerous, so why does the headmaster forbid entry?

So Heven asked, “Professor, if there’s no danger in the Forbidden Forest, why doesn’t Headmaster Dippet allow students in?”

“I’ve no desire to spend every day retrieving lost troublemakers from the forest,” the professor replied gruffly. “Besides, the centaurs have their territory in there—they’re not fond of wizards.”

“I see,” Heven nodded in understanding. That made sense; one of the greatest dangers in a forest isn’t always the creatures, but the risk of getting lost amidst the thick vegetation and tangled terrain. Even Muggle forests are filled with unknowns, let alone the Forbidden Forest, teeming with magical beasts.

…

Professor Kettleburn, lantern in hand, led the way into the Forbidden Forest, with Heven and his kitten following behind. In the glow of the lantern, their shadows stretched long and thin across the ground. From a distance, one might have seen the forest looming dark and ominous, shrouded in mist. The towering, dense trees formed an unbroken canopy, casting heavy shadows in the moonlight—like the jaws of a great beast, ready to swallow Professor Kettleburn and Heven whole.

…