Chapter 321. The Lost Fleur
About five minutes later, Adrian Wesson led Torch out of the cave.
The interior of the cave had already been completely cleared.
Being frugal, Wesson did not waste the Acromantulas' corpses.
Although the bodies had been mangled almost beyond use, he still collected enough Acromantula venom to fill a basin.
And he packed a bag of spider legs for Torch.
He did not know, after Torch's romp, how many of those poor Acromantulas would be left at all.
And Aragog… I hope Hagrid won't be too sad.
Wesson had deliberately left its body intact so Hagrid could recognise it.
Though they had not seen each other for a long time, Torch still obeyed Wesson's orders to the letter.
It seemed he had not forgotten his former poop-scooping attendant.
On the path through the Forbidden Forest, Wesson walked ahead while Torch trailed lazily behind, its massive body squeezing the trees aside along the track,
and now and then it butted him with its head.
"I've told you so many times, Torch," Wesson said earnestly over his shoulder to Torch behind him, "you're not little any more, so stop head-butting—"
His words cut off.
On his left, in a clearing, all sorts of flowers and mushrooms were sprouting abruptly, so bright they were almost glaring.
"What is…"
Wesson stopped to observe and, to his surprise, found these were exactly the same as the plants Fleur had summoned during the task.
Could Fleur be nearby?
With that question in mind, Wesson turned a corner.
He followed the line in which those flowers and mushrooms extended and saw they were arranged in a straight trail, spreading all the way into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
Just then, Torch behind Wesson gave a low growl, a flash of vigilance passing through its huge draconic eyes.
It pawed the ground restlessly with its claws, as if it had sensed some kind of danger.
"What's wrong?" Wesson looked back and patted Torch lightly on the head.
Torch's wariness did not lessen in the slightest; a deep rumble rolled in its throat, and it even spat a few sparks.
Wesson knew a clever child like Torch would never do this for no reason.
Something here was definitely off.
So…
"Eldra."
Wesson called to the Tree of Wisdom.
Soon, the Tree of Wisdom's voice sounded in his mind.
"Sir, there is a curse before you. I advise you not to approach."
A curse, then. Wesson narrowed his eyes.
The Tree of Wisdom's advice was sound; he had no leisure to fiddle with some curse. He was about to turn and leave.
At that moment, Torch suddenly bolted past him, as if seized by some fever.
"Rooaar—" A tongue of fire blasted from its mouth, sweeping over the flowers and grass ahead.
In an instant, the flowers and mushrooms were nothing but char.
Well then, Wesson thought, no need to worry about the curse now.
Yet Torch still looked dissatisfied; it rushed up and stomped hard a few more times. The ground trembled faintly, startling the birds nearby into flight.
Wesson had no idea what grudge Torch bore against these flowers and mushrooms to provoke such an intense reaction.
Torch blew out a hot breath (likely the fire was spent), then finally returned, rubbing its head against Wesson's arm.
"All right, looks like you've had your fun." Wesson conjured a green rope and looped it around Torch's neck. "A small precaution, child, in case you run off again. You've caused quite enough trouble."
Torch tugged and worried at the rope with claw and tooth for a while, but the rope remained unscathed.
In the end it had to give up struggling and allowed itself to be led obediently by Wesson.
"Good," Wesson nodded, satisfied. "Let's go."
However, after only a few steps, the taut rope in his hand brought him up short.
"Torch?" Wesson turned his head. "Now what?"
The sight before him took him aback.
Torch was growling, its eyes fixed on a single spot.
Wesson followed its gaze. A blue figure flickered past—
"That was…"
Torch had clearly seen the figure as well. It spread its wings at once and sprang off the ground, trying to dart after it.
However—
"Boom!"
The magic rope in Wesson's hand snapped taut and yanked Torch down out of the air, slamming it to the ground.
"I should have warned you earlier," Wesson said, rubbing his brow, "don't try to stray too far from me."
Torch huffed twice, its anger easing a little, but its eyes still locked on that direction.
So who exactly was that blue figure?
Wesson already had a guess.
Judging by these cursed flowers and grasses, there was no doubt the person was likely Fleur Delacour.
But what was Fleur doing in the Forbidden Forest?
That was a question only she herself could answer.
Wesson swished his wand in a graceful half-arc; the tip glimmered with pale blue light.
He murmured:
"Incarcerous! Ligamen Extendere!"
In a heartbeat, a pale-blue magic rope shot from his wand tip, threading like a clever serpent through shrubs and undergrowth. In the blink of an eye it extended for hundreds of metres, streaking after the blue figure.
The rope was incredibly fast. Almost the instant Fleur sensed something amiss, it had already wrapped around her waist.
"Ah—!" Fleur cried out. Before she could react, she was jerked back sharply and dragged, sliding across the ground towards Wesson.
When Fleur came to her senses, she found herself sitting on the ground at Wesson's feet.
She stood up a little dishevelled, a few fallen leaves clinging to her blue robes, her silver hair slightly mussed.
"Miss Delacour," Wesson inclined his head a fraction, scrutiny in his eyes. "What are you doing here? I should think the Forbidden Forest is off limits to everyone."
Fleur did not answer Wesson's question. She stared, trembling, at Torch; her face had gone a shade paler.
As for Torch—it had already bared its teeth, a low snarl rolling in its throat, looking an instant away from a charge.
"Swish!"
The rope around Torch's neck tightened at once, holding it firmly in place.
"Don't move." Wesson gave the rope a tug, signalling Torch to be still.
Torch whimpered again and sat down where it was, properly.
Seeing this, Fleur finally breathed out.
Wesson had already guessed part of it.
"So you provoked this fire dragon, did you?" he asked.
At that, Fleur sighed helplessly. "I only came into the Forest for a walk, and then a fire dragon suddenly lunged at me and breathed fire at me…"
As she spoke, Fleur showed him her singed robes.
"I ran for a long time before I shook it off, and then… I got lost."
By the end, an embarrassed look had crept over her face.
Honestly, it was rather humiliating.
After hearing Fleur's explanation, Wesson blinked.
So that was why Torch had bolted—chasing Fleur?
But why would Torch chase her?
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