"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery." It's not real; it's not really; it's not real. Maybe if Harry sung it enough he could manifest it. Maybe if Harry believed it enough, it would become truth. He hadn't realised how hard he'd been trembling until Theo's hand settled over how own where it was probably cutting grooves into his skin.