HP:BSG - Chapter 686: Natalia Eliminated

Bang!

The blonde girl’s back slammed hard against a tree trunk. A mouthful of blood burst from her lips, splattering across her pale face.

Her vision blurred for an instant. When it cleared, she saw the gorilla doll standing before her, gripping a sharp, broken branch — its jagged tip pointed directly at her heart.

What made her blood run cold, however, was the lizard doll behind her. Its icy claws dug into her shoulder, its tail coiled tightly around her waist, and its heavy breath blew against the back of her head. 

From the corner of her eye, she could just make out a row of gleaming, predatory fangs.

The gorilla looked down at her from above, its voice low and rumbling. “Do you surrender?”

It leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming. “Or shall we break a few of your bones first — and then you surrender?”

Natalia forced a bloody, bitter smile. Her fingers groped weakly among the fallen leaves, searching… until at last they brushed against the cold surface of her wand.

The gorilla didn’t stop her — it merely watched with chilling indifference. But the lizard’s claws tightened on her shoulder, digging in just enough to make its threat clear.

Natalia had no doubt: if she dared to fight back — the instant her muscles tensed — those claws would tear her arm clean off.

The shattered trees surrounding them bore silent witness to just how brutal and terrifying these creatures were.

She closed her eyes briefly, swallowing down the urge to cry. Then, gathering what little strength she had left, she raised her wand toward the sky.

Whoosh—!

A blinding red spark shot upward, threading through the canopy and bursting high above the forest with a sharp bang.

The gorilla released the branch. The lizard withdrew its claws. Together, as if guided by some unspoken understanding, the two dolls backed away and melted into the shadows of the trees — as though they had never been there at all.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall descended from the sky on her broomstick. Her eyes softened with both pity and pride as she looked at the battered girl.

“You were brave enough, child,” she said quietly.

Natalia gave a faint, weary smile. She tried to speak, but only a spatter of blood came out instead.

With a wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall gently lifted her using a levitation spell. “Madam Pomfrey is ready with dittany and healing draughts. Hold on.”

The broom rose slowly and steadily into the air. Below them, the dense forest spread out like a vast sea of dark green, rustling softly in the wind like rolling waves.

Natalia forced her eyes open. Through the haze of pain, she saw a Thestral gliding gracefully above the treetops — its great, bat-like wings were outstretched and its pupil-less white eyes flicked toward her in what felt like a silent gesture of sympathy.

The broom accelerated. Wind howled past her bloodstained cheeks.

As her consciousness began to fade, one fleeting thought crossed her mind —
Where is Wade right now, in this Forbidden Forest?

The thought drew a faint, self-mocking smile to her lips. But in her heart, there was neither bitterness at her defeat nor jealousy toward Wade.

She had never naively believed that their shared past meant Wade should show her mercy in the competition.

From the moment she’d cast her name into the Goblet of Fire, Natalia had accepted every possible outcome: to fight her way to the top — or to fall.

After witnessing the true strength of the other champions, she had already understood how this would end.

Such a pity…

She hadn’t even had the chance to face Wade Grey in a fair, direct duel— and she’d already been eliminated by one of his creations.

And that was only a prototype — something Wade had thrown together hastily for the tournament. 

If that is what he can do in a rush… just how breathtaking would one of his true dolls* be?

The bright lights of the Quidditch pitch grew closer in her dimming vision. Natalia exhaled softly, letting the darkness swallow her consciousness.

…

Clementine was running full tilt into the depths of the forest. She didn’t dare look back. She didn’t dare stop. She just ran—until her lungs burned like fire and all she could hear was the thunder of her own heartbeat.

The echoes of Natalia’s shouted spells, and the roars of the monsters, faded far behind her until they vanished completely. Then, suddenly, she stumbled—her foot sank into a pit of mud, and she fell hard to the ground.

“Ah!”

She cried out as her wand flew from her grasp.

The sound of footsteps approached rapidly through the underbrush. Clementine watched, frozen in dread, as a hand reached down and picked up her wand. 

Her heart sank—she shut her eyes in despair.

Then, the tall grass beside her parted, and a calm, gentle voice spoke from above. “A human girl? One of the tournament’s champions?”

Clementine opened her eyes in fright. Before her stood a young centaur, his silver mane seeming almost to glow, and in his pale blue eyes shimmered a touch of compassion.

To him, the girl before him looked utterly disheveled— mud-smeared and trembling, her honey-colored curls tangled with twigs and dry leaves, her round cheeks still soft with traces of youth.

He frowned slightly. “You’re not of age yet, are you?”

Clementine stammered, “Y-yes… that’s right.”

The centaur’s voice turned sharp with disdain. “Barbaric humans. To send a child into such a brutal contest.”

He extended a strong arm and helped her to her feet. “My kind does not involve ourselves in human games,” he said, “but I can see you safely for part of the way. Come with me.”

“Thank you… what’s your name?” Clementine asked timidly, then added quickly, “Oh, right—mine is—”

“No need.”

The centaur cut her off with his eyes fixed on the path ahead, his tone calm and steady. “You need not know my name, nor I yours. Names are the beginning of ties—and our paths are destined to part.”

Clementine stood frozen for a moment, then hurried after him as he walked on.

Centaurs held a peculiar, respected place within the Forbidden Forest; few magical creatures dared provoke them.

Under the guidance of the blue-eyed centaur, Clementine safely traversed a treacherous stretch of woodland terrain.

Compared with the chaos and terror she had endured, this peaceful walk felt so overwhelming she almost wanted to cry.

“I can take you no farther,” the centaur said at last. He lifted an arm and pointed toward two narrow paths, divided by the light of the setting sun.

“Go left, and you’ll find the object you seek in this contest. But if you take the right path, you’ll leave the forest safely.”

Clementine tightened her grip on her wand, her face set with determination. “I haven’t been defeated yet—so I won’t run away!”

The centaur turned his head, studying her in silence for a few moments. His silvery mane fluttered softly in the wind.

At last, he spoke quietly. “Mars burns bright tonight—aligned with the Scorpion.”

“What does that mean?” Clementine asked in confusion.

But the centaur only gave her one long, meaningful look. Then, with a light tap of his hoof on the ground, he turned and strode off into the shadowed forest.

Clementine stood alone at the crossroads, and a shiver of foreboding ran through her. She drew a deep breath, tightened her grip on her wand, and without hesitation stepped onto the path to the left.

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