Harry Potter and the Battle of the Age

Chapter Five

Seventh Year Classes

Harry received his schedule at breakfast the next morning and found that his first class of the year was Potions.

"Wonderful," he groaned into his porridge.

"Hey, and I thought it was a bad thing I didn't get into the advanced class..." Ron said.

"Well, at least we'll all be in the class together; there's only one seventh-year Potions period," Rachel remarked.

"What am I, Clabbert dung?" Ron looked offended.

"I meant-- Clabbert dung? What?"

Ron shrugged.

"Well, the only classes the four of us have together are Care of Magical Creatures and Defence Against the Dark Arts..." Hermione mused, comparing everyone's schedules. "But Ron and Harry are together for History of Magic-- you're both in the remedial class again?"

Harry took a long drought of pumpkin juice and Ron looked accusingly at Hermione.

"Well, you wouldn't let me use your old notes!"

"Wha-- it's my fault you fail because you don't pay attention all year and then I won't help you cheat?"

"C'mon, Hermione, sharing notes isn't cheating!"

"It is if you don't bother to stay awake all year and then try to learn the entire course in three nights!"

"All right, all right..." Rachel reached between the two of them and took the jam. "What about Transfiguration? I think I've got that with at least one of you..."

"Harry and me," Hermione supplied. "And you three are together for Charms when I have Arithmancy, and then we all have separate Astronomy classes." She still sounded huffy. Ron took a sip of coffee, scowling.

After breakfast Harry and Rachel waited outside the Great Hall so Hermione could cram another book into her bag for reference in her Arithmancy class, and also so they could delay going into Snape's dungeon as long as possible. A few people pointed at Rachel as they passed, or whispered between them.

"Do they really have nothing better to talk about?" Rachel asked dryly.

Harry grinned and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You'll get used to it..."

Draco Malfoy passed along the other side of the entryway and sneered at the two of them. On a whim, Harry slid his arm around Rachel's waist as they walked to meet Hermione, who appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Rachel looked at him out of the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes, but smiled. To Harry's delight, Malfoy looked furious. They kept walking, behind Hermione, toward the hallway that lead to Snape's staircase. Suddenly Harry felt something catch him around the ankles and he fell dramatically, landing flat on his stomach on the cold stone.

"Ow!"

"Harry!"

Rachel half laughed and helped him up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Harry muttered, ignoring the sniggers of passers-by. He looked around the smooth stone floor to see what he had tripped on.

"What happened?" Hermione said.

"Nothing..." Harry muttered. His fall had felt very much like a Trip Jinx. Suddenly his eyes landed on Snape, lingering at the door to his staircase, giving Harry a very angry look. He held his glare for a few moments, then swept down the stairs to his classroom. Harry shook his head disbelievingly and Rachel glanced in his direction.

"What--" then she made a small noise of dissent in her throat. "Unbelievable..." she muttered.

Harry and Rachel very purposefully sat next to each other in the back row when the bell signalling the start of class sounded. Snape strode out of his office and all talking immediately ceased.

"Settle down, settle down..." he called unnecessarily. "This is a seventh year class. I expect you to all behave like the adults we are supposed to treat you as," he said sharply. "There will be no talking during class, no helping others when they deserve to fail, and no late work accepted. And if I ever hear one murmur about the workload in this class-- which I assure you will be very, very great-- it will be tripled. Understood?"

The class all nodded dumbly at this sudden and harsh initiation. Snape glowered at many of them in turn.

"This will be a very difficult class; I hope you all have gained at least some competence over the seven long years I've put up with each of you. At the end of the year you will take your N.E.W.T.s, and we shall see how much you've managed to retain..." Snape's lip curled maliciously and the class suddenly looked nervous. Harry didn't even want to think about his Potions N.E.W.T.s. "But for today, I will test your level of aptitude with this potion, and see where I need to start re-teaching you. Begin."

The usual list of ingredients and steps had appeared on the board behind him. Before Harry had unzipped his bag, Snape jerked his head at the back row and called,

"Connor. Front row. Now."

"What for?"

The class immediately grew still. Rachel kept her eyes locked on Snape. He stared back at her for a moment, then stalked to their desks menacingly.

"Because I told you to, Connor," he whispered, leaning very close to her and pronouncing each word slowly and clearly, a ferocious scowl on his face. Rachel looked up, innocently enough, and stared back at him for a moment before grudgingly swinging her bag onto her back and walking slowly to the front row next to the only empty seat, next to Pansy Parkinson. Snape watched her steadily until she sat down, then turned to Harry.

"Head Boy, eh? Naturally..." he said softly in a tone that made Harry want to get up and hit him. He held his tongue with difficulty.

"How much has it added to your arrogance so far, Potter?"

Harry continued to ignore him, taking out ingredients for his Tranquilizing Tonic.

"Let me tell you, Potter, that you are still no higher than any other student in this school in my eyes. And if you ever try to use this tiny amount of power to get away with anything in my class, I'll have that badge from you faster than you can blink."

Harry kept separating Camellia stems from the leaves. Snape didn't back away.

"This will be your seat for the rest of the year, understood?"

Harry didn't reply.

"Answer me," Snape hissed dangerously.

"Yes," Harry replied stiffly.

"Yes what?"

Harry gritted his teeth and spoke in a voice rather like Snape's.

"Yes, sir."

Snape took a few seconds to move away from Harry, muttering, "Better."

Hermione looked from Harry to Rachel and then to Snape. Then she raised her eyebrows and bit her lip.

***

Harry, Hermione, and Rachel met up with Ron later in front of Charms.

"Is seventh-year Potions as horrible as it sounds?" Ron asked, and was answered by two evil glares and Hermione.

"Well, it's challenging, yes, but at least we'll be ready for the N.E.W.T.s..."

Harry groaned and Rachel said,

"Yeah, right, Snape's going to get us ready."

"The only good part of the class was when Malfoy started running his mouth and Snape told him to shut up," Harry said, smiling at the shocked look on Malfoy's face. "He has no idea why Snape suddenly hates him; I guess Voldemort made his dad quit telling him everything."

"Does he hate him?" Ron said.

"He gave him a look that just about scared him off his chair," Rachel said, also smiling. "It was nice..."

They stopped talking as the bell rang and Hermione hurried off to Arithmancy. Their back-to-school speech from Flitwick was obviously much nicer than Snape's, but he, too, warned them about the upcoming Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests they were to take that summer. Harry had begun to get the familiar sick feeling in his stomach like the one he got the beginning of his fifth year when all his teachers were terrifying them about the O.W.L.s.

"Just think positively about them, that's what I've tried to do," Rachel said at lunch. "They're scary, but people take them every year... do you really think you're going to fail every N.E.W.T? I mean, you're not... like, Crabbe, for instance."

"Sure," Ron said. "But if we do, than we'll fail Hogwarts and lose every possibility of a decent job and be shunned by the rest of the educated community for our entire lives. That's the part that worries me."

Rachel blinked nervously at her soup.

Their next class, Transfiguration, was as intimidating as the rest. Professor McGonagall strode into the classroom just as the bell rang and the class, like Snape's, immediately fell silent.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, seventh years," she said. "Prepare to study harder than you've ever studied."

Harry shut his eyes. He already had homework in each class, and McGonagall was sure to be no exception. Her greeting did nothing to calm the nervous class.

"Potter!" the professor's voice shot through the room like cracking glass. Harry's eyes flew open.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You're not wearing your badge," McGonagall said sternly. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"You are expected to wear your Head Boy badge at all times," Professor McGonagall continued, her sharp eyes boring into him. Harry reached into his bag and slowly pinned the badge onto the front of his robes, colour rising to his face.

"Now," McGonagall picked up her speech. "You are familiar with my standards already. Obviously I have highest expectations of you, my seventh-year class. This year we will complete and fine-tune your Transfiguration skills. You will be doing human Transfiguration at the end of the year. For this reason your safety skills must also be polished..."

Harry was a bit nervous about the human transformations; he didn't want to turn one of his classmates irreversibly into, say, a stoat. Or become one, for that matter. He hoped Hermione would be the one to Transfigure him.

His final two classes that day (not counting Astronomy at midnight) were the two he was looking forward to most-- Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures.

First of the two was Defence Against the Dark Arts. When Harry entered the familiar classroom, filled with interesting pictures of Dark Creatures and a few strange artefacts much like the knick-knacks at Grimmauld Place, Lupin was already leaning against his desk, greeting every student familiarly. When the bell sounded, he summoned their attention and began to speak.

"Firstly, welcome back to Hogwarts-- seventh years! You have a wonderful year ahead of you..." A rather reminiscent smile passed over his face for a moment. "Now... I imagine your teachers have all instilled in you a proper fear of the upcoming N.E.W.T.s?"

A murmur of dark agreement stirred through the class. Lupin smiled again.

"Very well, we needn't cover it. Just know that you will need to work hard this year; but don't get too worried... I'm going to teach you all you need to know. Before we begin-- how many of you are considering a career involving Defence Against the Dark Arts? Any up and coming Aurors or Magical Law Enforcement Officers here, Muggle Protectors or Emergency Magical Reversal Squad; maybe even a dragon-hunter?"

There were a few smiles and Harry raised his hand. Lupin looked at him and nodded seriously.

"Yes, Harry-- you would certainly do well. And... Neville," Lupin looked surprised, but not shocked. "Yes... I can easily see you as an Auror."

Harry glanced at Neville. His face was more serious than he usually saw and he was not blushing (well, hardly blushing) even though all eyes in the class were on him. Then Harry heard a snigger from the back of the class.

"Did you have something to say, Draco?" Lupin asked calmly.

"Well-- don't you have to be awfully brave to be Auror?" Malfoy said innocently. "I mean, you'd have to tangle with all sorts of dangerous things; vampires and ghouls and... werewolves..."

Harry's head grew hot and Lupin's jawline tightened, but Neville suddenly spat at Malfoy,

"Vampires and werewolves are completely decent people as long as it's not nightttime or a full moon, or they have Wolfsbane or aren't mad with blood-hunger. Even someone like you would be able to handle that!"

"All right, Neville," Lupin said, smiling, as Malfoy sat with his mouth open in shock. "And to answer your question, Malfoy... that's why Gryffindors normally make excellent Aurors."

Harry suddenly realized, to full extent, that Neville was a Gryffindor. Nevertheless, he did glance nervously at Malfoy, who was looking threateningly at him, after the class ended. Harry walked up to him quickly and started a conversation about his Herbology class, fingering his Head Boy badge in Malfoy's direction. He didn't come any closer.

Harry walked through the cooling air toward Hagrid's hut, happy he was going to have a bit of a break-- Hagrid's class wasn't something he wrote off, but it was simple enough and interesting. He and Rachel met up with Ron and Hermione as everyone was gathering in front of a small cage Hagrid held up for them to see.

"A'right, now, look up 'ere," Hagrid said, holding the cage at shoulder height so they could all see. "I know you're all eager t'be learnin' abou' the dangerous stuff, now that you're seventh years n'all, but we're gonna start slow this year... no more stupid mistakes 'cause you're not ready to pay attention yet."

He glared at Malfoy and continued.

"These 'ere are Cornish pixies, which your joke of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher tried to teach you abou' yer second year. I'll give yeh some ac'tual information abou' 'em... who knows where Cornish pixies actually originated?"

The rest of the lesson was interesting and the only homework Hagrid gave was a labelled sketch of a Cornish pixie; Harry was grateful for that. He stayed behind for a few moments with Ron, who was trying to pin Hagrid down on whether or not a hippogriff would eat sheep.

After dinner Harry spoke with the remaining members of his Quidditch team (Ron, Rachel, Ginny, and a promising third year named Sam McClaggan) about the upcoming tryouts, then did his homework and sat in front of the fireplace for a while with Rachel and a bouncy Sprite.

"How was your first day back?" he asked, glancing around the familiar, comfortable the common room as it began to empty.

"It was really good," Rachel said as she wrote her name on her last piece of homework with a flourish. "I think we got a good feel for what this year is going to be like..."

Chapter Six

Trying Out and Listening In

"Alright--Chasers to the centre of the field, please!"

It was a very crisp fall day Harry's third Saturday back at Hogwarts, and he had devoted his time to finding a new Quidditch team. Rachel and Ginny gathered the Gryffindors trying out for Chaser while McClaggan handed out Beater's bats to Beater hopefuls. Harry glanced over the faces. There were a few people he recognized from the Common Room but didn't know by name, then someone waved at him energetically from the Beater crowd--it was Colin Creevey, looking, as usual, riotously excited and dwarfed by his bat.

Harry took all the names of the Chasers on a clipboard (with that and the whistle around his neck, he felt very official) and had them all run plays with Rachel and Ginny. There was one second year trying out, Ruth Carmichael, two third years, Euan Abercrombie and Jenna Stockman, and a fifth year, Alex Hewson. The second year had a bit of trouble handling her broomstick. Euan Abercrombie fumbled a few shots, but when he did catch the Quaffle, he was pretty at scoring. Then Jenna Stockman played; she was unremarkable. The oldest was the last to go. Alex Hewson was probably the best Chaser of the four; he couldn't quite keep up with Rachel but he was very good at quick passing and manoeuvring.

Next came the beaters. Besides Colin, there was a fourth year called Simon Smith Harry didn't know, and a strong-armed fifth year and new prefect, Howie Dirsch. Sam took turns batting with them in a drill that looked much like tennis with iron Bludgers. Dirsch was a fairly strong all-around Beater, and Smith could hit them pretty far. Harry was making up his mind between these two when Colin zoomed up excitedly.

"Ready, Harry?"

"Uh... yeah, Colin," Harry said. "Good luck..."

Harry was, admittedly, not counting on Colin for a great show. Sam released the Bludger and knocked it to him. Harry sat placidly on his broomstick, watching. When the Bludger got to Colin, he pulled his bat back; Harry thought he was too late. But then he smacked the heavy, violent orb back to Sam; it whizzed past Harry easily at game speed and Sam had to react quickly to hit it back. Colin whacked it again with even more force, and it nearly unseated Sam.

"Colin!" Harry called, excited. "Hit that post, right there in the middle!"

Colin nodded happily at Harry and, when the Bludger reached him, he redirected it to his left and hit it straight into one of the goalposts. Smith and Dirsch looked at each other nervously.

"Why didn't you ever try out before?" Harry asked Colin when they were both on the ground.

"I always figured I was too small to play," Colin said eagerly. "Did I do alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, you did good!"

"Nice job," Sam put in.

Harry had made his choice for Beater, but told the waiting players he would post his decisions in the common room before Tuesday. He had found the previous year that he didn't like telling people they had failed to their faces.

"He was a little fireball, that one," Rachel said as they retreated to the castle after cleaning up the field.

"Yeah, I think he's going to be good," Harry said.

That evening, he ended up choosing Alex Hewson as the next Chaser. He spent the rest of the night devising formations against Slytherin tactics, determined to keep the Quidditch Cup in its (rightful) place in Professor McGonagall's office.

***

That Friday after Quidditch practice with the team's new members, Harry and Rachel stayed behind to put up the equipment and walked back to the castle through the dusky light, enjoying the pleasant air before it turned too cold. Rachel pulled her cloak on and said,

"Why don't we take the long way, around the lake? It's so nice out..."

"Sure," Harry said, and turned. Hesitantly, he stepped a little closer to her and took her hand. He smiled when she put her fingers between his and looked down shyly. They talked about school and the team until they were halfway around the lake. When they got to a certain bit of shoreline Harry grew silent.

"Harry... Harry? Harry!"

"What?" Harry wondered how long Rachel had been trying to get his attention.

"Why are you so quiet all of the sudden?"

"I was... just thinking of something..."

"Of... oh..." Rachel looked embarrassed as she realized this was where Harry had saved Sirius' life his third year. They walked on in silence.

"Do you want to--"

"No. I don't want to talk about it."

Rachel looked affronted but had the empathy not to say anything, save a muttered "Sorry...." Harry realized he had made her angry and wondered if letting go of her hand would be a further slight. The evening was suddenly far less enjoyable. Miserably, he wondered if he should suggest they just go inside, when Rachel stopped walking as suddenly as he had stopped speaking.

"What?"

Rachel silently pointed across a small inlet where the green lake water slopped noisily onto the shore. Barely twenty feet from Harry and Rachel stood a centaur. Harry had seen centaurs before, but this one was different--his horse legs and human body were dark like Bane's, another centaur who lived in the forest, and his black curly hair hung in a wild braid down his back. But he stood only a few feet tall, and when he turned to look at bird flying near his side, Harry saw his face.

It was a young centaur.

The centaur-boy's face looked like that of a human child, perhaps four or five years old, from where Harry was standing. He was playing with sticks and floating leaves in the lake. Then, on some unseen summons, he turned and darted into the forest. Harry started to say something but Rachel held up her hand.

"Did you hear them talking?"

Harry paused and did, indeed, hear voices. They sounded like the lyrical, somewhat morbid voices of centaurs.

"Rachel, we ought to go... centaurs don't exactly like..."

"Didn't you hear that?"

"Yeah, I heard them, but--"

"No, what they said?"

Harry blinked.

"No..." he said slowly.

"Come on..."

"Rachel!"

Rachel began walking slowly toward the forest. Harry called her back with furious whispers.

"Don't you understand--they'll shoot at you, with arrows... Rachel! This is actually dangerous..."

Rachel turned and raised her eyebrows at Harry.

"Aren't you coming?" she mouthed at him. She hadn't listened to a word he said. Harry rushed after her (he'd drag her back if he had to, he thought, irritated) but when he reached her, and the voices were clearer, he heard,

"...Voldemort... kill us all... what do you expect us to..."

Harry paused. Rachel gave him another look. Harry couldn't help it. He sighed frustratedly but followed her.

They crept along a sandy path into the woods, until there was a small hill the centaurs seemed to be just over. Harry motioned to Rachel and they knelt behind the roots of a fallen tree. When he cautiously put his head up, with a thrill of nerves, he saw them.

About twenty centaurs, the most he had seen in one place, were standing in below Harry and Rachel. They were split into two groups of about twelve and eight. It seemed like they were having some sort of debate, and the smaller side had the floor. Harry recognized Bane, speaking.

"Why should we be caught up in the human's stupid battles? They brought this upon themselves! And what if we do help them win, and they start to come to us for alliances whenever they turn out another monster?"

"But Bane, they didn't bring this upon themselves," said a honey-coloured centaur with a sandy blond ponytail. "You know as well as I do that there's terrible evil in the world, and evil can manifest itself in any being. The human, or near-human called Voldemort will slay any creature in his way; young ones, animals, goblins and mermen, humans... and centaurs. There are some wiser humans who have asked for our help because protecting the world from such an evil is the right thing to do."

Harry saw the centaur Ronan nod behind him.

"No!" Bane said ferociously. "Let them fight their own battles; humans are using centaurs every day... even in our own forest--look at Hagrid! He won't listen to reason and he is putting us and our innocents in mortal danger on his own whims!"

The centaurs on the other side all looked away or stamped their hoofs nervously. Hagrid seemed to be a weak spot in their argument. Harry and Rachel exchanged glances and looked back as another centaur began speaking.

"Hagrid has made a foolish and blinded decision," said a black and white splotchy centaur. "The race as a whole does have its faults; they can be pompous, and bumbling, but--"

"Bumbling?!" Bane roared as his side threw back their heads and called angrily. "You call that--"

"But," the splotched centaur raised his voice above the din. "As a whole, they are doing everything they can to get rid of Voldemort. They have sent envoys to other races, overlooking petty differences for the time being, as we should, to protect the innocents of all races... Firenze did not commit any treason by assisting a wise and kind human."

At the mention of Firenze's name, there was another violent upheaval.

"That is another issue..." the blond centaur said, rubbing his forehead.

"Listen, centaur," said a genial-looking, ruddy-faced, bearded centaur with a copper body. "We're all for getting rid of that beast of Hagrid's, and we want as much as you to enforce our right to our own land--don't you think it'll help that cause if we assist the well-meaning humans? Appeal to Dumbledore; that's worked before."

A pure white centaur Harry had seen before exchanged glances with a chestnut with reddish plaits and a small, pointed beard.

"What, grovel with them so we can get our own land back? Bane said angrily.

"Bane..." the white one replied. "That's not what Roidh meant, I'm sure. And anyway, this is another, much bigger issue.... You've seen it in the stars as well as everyone. You know what Voldemort is. I think... it may be time for us to band together--for a time, for a time..."

"We've let our desire to remain pure from the stain of humanity make us blind to the greater good," the plaited centaur added, placing his fingertips together and toward the ground. "We should indeed stay separate; I agree with your earlier point about not combining the races, certainly..."

There was a murmur of general agreement among the centaurs from both sides.

"...but this is an evil that transcends race... if we're not fighting against him we're helping him."

With this, the two centaurs walked to the other side of the clearing, with the blond centaur.

"Oh, Brogan..." a chestnut centaur Harry knew as Magorian moaned as they left. "Not you too... Ruggiero!"

Another centaur had left his ranks.

"We do this, and the humans brag that we do their will, and then come to us for help and get good centaurs killed; we won't allow it!" bellowed a hard-faced grey centaur, almost incoherent with rage. Tempers were rising on both sides.

"You blinded fools, you're getting as vain as the humans, jus--"

There was a rumble like thunder and the furious grey centaur screamed "NOT AGAIN!"

Rachel gasped quietly as the centaurs all loaded their bows. Harry winced, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, he soon saw the trees behind the centaurs part and Grawp's huge, grey face appeared like a dingy moon.

"Haggar?" he was calling. "Where yoo, Haggar?"

Then the centaurs, yelling, let fly with their arrows and Grawp let out a howl of pain.

"Wha-- HOSSES! MEAN HOSSES! Grawp HATE hosses!"

Rachel and Harry couldn't help ducking as one of the giant's huge fists came crashing down to earth. The splotchy centaur barely dodged him.

"Oh no, they'll be crushed..."

"There's nothing we can do," Harry said. "Let's get out of here..."

"But maybe we can make Grawp--"

"Probably not, and even if we do, the centaurs will turn on us; I've dealt with them before... let's go!"

Rachel dodged a stray arrow and followed Harry. They had only gone a few feet when they had to pause to duck behind a boulder, and Rachel turned.

"Oh my God..." she murmured, freezing. Harry turned.

The young centaur they had seen was standing, immobile with terror, against a tree while Grawp towered over him, yelling.

"Taran!" Bane yelled as he lay wounded. He looked as Harry had never seen him, not ferocious, but terrified and helpless. Before Harry could react Rachel had darted away. He yelled and leapt into the clearing, but she kept running. In an instant she was at the centaur-boy's side. She lifted him as one might lift a young horse or goat, with his legs folded under, and had to spin, with a scream of fear, as Grawp's fist smashed into the trunk of the huge oak behind her, leaving it almost cleaved in two. She turned to face Grawp with the terrified foal safely behind her. Crying, he pressed his face into her robes. She held his hands in hers, behind her back.

"RA-CHAH," Grawp said emphatically. "HOSSES--MEAN HOSSES--STUPID HOSSES!" He sounded like a twenty-foot toddler telling on his mates to a nanny.

"I know, Grawp, it's okay, it's okay..." Rachel tried desperately to think of something to say. He turned to attack the 'hosses' once more, but Rachel yelled,

"Grawp--do you want Hagrid? Don't you want your friend Hagrid? He's at his house-- go see him!"

"Haggar?" Grawp said to her. He seemed torn between the centaurs, who were now frozen with unusual self-control, and Hagrid.

"Grawp--do you know what Hagrid has?"

Grawp stared at her for a moment, and curiosity won.

"Wha'?"

"Hagrid has... Hagrid has fish for you!" Rachel cried, remembering Hagrid mentioning a favourite food of giants a few lessons ago. Grawp's eyes widened.

"Feesh? Grawp like feesh! Good feesh in lake where Grawp ussa' live..."

Rachel laughed nervously.

"Yeah, I know... why don't you go get it, Grawpy? Go get the nice fish!"

Grawp didn't move for several seconds. He seemed to be in deep deliberation.

"Yummy fresh fish, Grawp... but only if you don't hurt the horses!"

A few centaurs looked angry at this, but Grawp's reaction was worse.

"BUT ME HATE DUM HOSSES!" he yelled, crashing his fist les than half a foot above Rachel's head. She winced and closed her eyes with fright. The centaurs almost attacked again, but Rachel yelled, although paled,

"No Grawp--Hagrid will get mad at you!" She tried very hard to sound threatening.

Grawp was again frozen with conflicting emotions. Apparently Hagrid's approval meant a lot to him. Rachel took advantage of this.

"Go get the nice fish before he gets mad, Grawpy..."

The addition of food to one side of the equation finally won Grawp over. He turned and yelled "FEESH!" furiously to the centaurs, but stomped away toward the other side of the woods. Rachel almost fainted with relief. Harry and Bane both ran to her equally fast. Bane, limping, picked up Taran and held him while Harry supported Rachel. She was mumbling something.

"Great giant fists... could've crushed me like... fish..."

"You see, Bane?" said the copper centaur, with a serene smile through all the confusion. "Bumbling, but well-meaning..."

"Enough of that, Roidh... what in the seven hells are you two doing here?" the grey centaur shot at Harry and Rachel.

"We were just walking by the lake!" Rachel said. Harry thought it was wise of her to leave it at that.

"That's not trespassing into your woods, is it?" Harry said with a bit more cheek than he had intended.

"Don't you sneer at me, boy!" The centaur pointed another arrow straight at Harry.

"But it isn't!" Rachel protested, and he turned on her.

"And don't think you're out of the woods either, girl!"

His arrow now pointed straight at her heart. Harry tensed and moved closer to her.

"I remember this one..." Magorian said. "This isn't the first time he's intruded on us and tried to weasel out of it."

The other centaurs glared at them suspiciously. The ones that had been arguing for helping the humans looked only slightly less sympathetic, if at all.

"Enough," Bane said in a tired-sounding voice. "Padraic--are you really going to turn your bow on my foal's rescuer?"
Padraic met Bane's eyes and reluctantly lowered his weapon.

"Bane is right," the blond centaur said, stepping forward. "We are not barbarians. This girl was not trespassing, and she just risked her own life for one of our young. Do not threaten her in your pettiness."

The grey centaur angrily stamped his hoof again, saying, "Ailean..."

But then he turned away. The calm blond stepped closer to Rachel and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You have earned our gratitude and your debt will be repaid to you," he said very slowly and seriously. "But for now I must ask you to leave... only because it is not safe for you here."

He darted a look behind him at the centaurs still angry. Most centaurs seemed unsure whether Rachel should be honoured like this but were not interfering, frowning but keeping their arms folded instead of on their bows. A few, however, bowed their heads at Rachel and offered short thanks.

"Thank you..." Rachel whispered, still eying Padraic nervously. Bane glanced to both side uncomfortably, then sighed and inclined his head for a few moments, whispering his own thanks. Taran, his head resting on his father's shoulder, gave Rachel a shy smile.

Within minutes, Harry and Rachel were hurrying back to the castle.

"You don't think we ruined things for those centaurs who wanted to help us out, do you?" Rachel said anxiously.

"I dunno... they were pretty convincing... and I don't think that was going to be their last meeting."

"No... but we could really use their help, don't you think?"

Harry nodded solemnly.

"We need all the help we can get..."

When they reached the castle, Rachel looked wide-eyed and still a bit pale. Harry was just thankful they were still alive and hadn't had to run from a hail of centaur arrows. They slipped into the Great Hall at dinner just as dessert was being eaten.

"Where were you two?" Ron asked teasingly, cutting some pie. "Whoa..." he said when he saw their faces. "Seriously, where?"

Harry and Rachel looked at each other.

"It's a long story..." Rachel said weakly, taking Ron's pie.