The Centaur's Shrine

Chapter 15 - Returning

London, King Cross,

"I hope they got our letter," said Harry, struggling with two pairs of skis, a large suitcase and a backpack.

"If they didn't, then we'll just have to ask the Headmaster permission to make a quick trip back to Grimauld to get our stuff. Ah, the left luggage lockers are over there." Hermione was not as overloaded as he was, but it would not be a moment too soon before she could get rid of the heavy bag which held most of her ski equipment and laundry.

They got to the rows of lockers, and he considered their diminutive size with a critical eye.

"What are we going to do with the skis?"

"There're some larger ones in the back."

He turned his head and effectively, there were a dozen of human sizes panels at the end of the series.

"Oh. Well, Miss Granger is certainly travel-wise," he said in a fake respectful tone. "If I may say so, I am very lucky to have her with me."

"You certainly can, my dear Harry," she replied with a posh accent. "Can I trust you to store all this while I try and find Helen?"

He managed a short bow without dropping the skis.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Your man-servant will do as you command."

She waved gaily and went away chuckling, leaving him with all their bags. It had been the best ski holiday in her memory. Harry and her parents had gotten along splendidly. She hadn't had any doubt about that, and she knew that for him, it had been the first true vacation of his life, since even the past summer had been largely filled with training and other preparation. She marched toward the rendezvous point and looked around for the tall blond woman.

"Helen!"

"Hi, Hermione."

They greeted each other warmly and went back to rejoin Harry, who had just finished storing away all the things they would not need at Hogwarts. It left them with one bag each for their personal belongings and some presents for their friends.

"Don't you want to take that back to the school?" asked Helen.

"No. We'll just ask Remus or Tonks to recover it later." It might take a couple of days, but that should not be a problem.

"Give these to me Harry," she said, gesturing toward the keys. "I'll take care of the laundry, and I'll arrange to have everything send to your house."

"Thanks." He gave her the two keys. "But don't bother washing anything. Dobby and Winky will take care of it."

"If you say so."

"Do you want to sit down somewhere?" proposed Hermione.

"A nice warm place, if possible," added Harry. The big passenger hall of the station was not the most comfortable place in the winter, and he wasn't wearing his ski suit anymore.

"Sure. There's a pub over there."

They followed her inside, and to an unoccupied booth. A waitress came to them and they ordered some hot cocoa. Hermione got down to business immediately, explaining their project for a grand association to bring together Wizards, other magical creatures, and those Muggles who knew the truth. She also added, as tactfully as she could, that her parents weren't really interested, but that maybe others would be.

"Professor McGonagall had given me some statistics," she said, consulting her notes. "There are sixty seven parents of students which are Muggles, and twenty four have no other links to wizards, except for their children. I haven't included the Dursleys," she added for Harry's benefit.

"How many do you think would like to join?"

"I have no idea. We'll have to ask around."

"Does your association have a name?"

Hermione was slightly embarrassed to admit that it didn't. She hadn't really worked very hard on it, and every time one of them proposed a new name, the others would gag at how bad it was.

"Er, we're not really decided yet. The last idea I had was Universal Community of Intelligent Magical Creatures," she said. Harry groaned.

"Hum," said Helen. Hermione made a gesture of helplessness.

"One can't be a genius at everything," explained Harry in a deadpan voice. "Aside from imagining names for associations, Hermione is really very gifted, and her knowledge of-"

"Shut up, Harry," said Hermione.

They discussed it a little more. Helen was of the opinion that a proper, easy to identify, name was very important to the success of the project.

"What about Fraternity of Magic?" finally proposed Helen.

The two young people looked at each other, Hermione silently mouthing the words to evaluate how it sounded when mixed in everyday conversation.

"Why not?"

"Sold," said Harry.

"Okay then, where do I sign up?" She looked radiant that her suggestion had been accepted.

"We haven't really started it officially, but I'm going to do that real soon."

"Yeah, and she'll probably give you a big badge with FOM written on it," added Harry. "She's real good at that and - Ouch!" He massaged his side where her elbow had hit him.

"We'll have to find a way to communicate," continued Hermione, ignoring him. "We can send you owls but you'll only be able to reply right away." She thought about it for a moment. "I'll think of something, and we'll have to organize another meeting anyway."

"Severus said that the next time parents of students can come to the school, he would try to arrange for me to be there."

Oh. On a first name basis already? That's interesting.

"Why wouldn't you come to the ceremony at the Auror academy?" asked Harry innocently.

"What ceremony?"

"Fudge's giving us all medals. The six of us and professor Snape."

"He didn't tell me that," she replied, frowning.

"Maybe he didn't want to show off," he said, shrugging. "Would you like to be there?"

"Yes!" There was no mistaking the eagerness in her eyes. They couldn't help smiling.

"All right then. We'll ask Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to pick you up."

She frowned.

"Wouldn't it be simpler to-" She remembered what Hermione had said. "Ah, your parents aren't going perhaps?" The younger girl grimaced and silently shook her head.

"I haven't even told them." She shrugged. It bothered her a little, but she was reluctant to discuss it.

"You seem to get along well with professor Snape?" she asked instead, trying to change the subject.

Helen brightened visibly.

"Yes. I can't say that I understand him completely, but we get along." She hesitated, then tentatively. "Can I ask you a personal question about him?"

Hermione turned toward Harry. He nodded silently, but his expression was guarded.

"I understand why you are awarded decorations," said Helen. "But can you tell me what his role was exactly?"

Harry took his time before answering, unsure how much to tell her. Some things were none of anybody's business.

"I don't want to pry," she added, carefully choosing her words. "We're friends and I just want to ... understand him a little better."

Hermione's ears pricked up. She looked at Helen, and her eyes begged the question. The older woman smiled gently.

"Just friends." she added. For now.

Hermione touched Harry's hand, and then her thoughts were in his mind.

She doesn't want simple friendship. I think she ought to know the truth.

Are you sure?

Otherwise she's never going to understand. She could even get hurt.

All right.

"Professor Snape was an agent inside Voldemort's organization," explained Harry. Her eyes grew wide. He nodded. "It would take too long to go into details, but you should know that it was extremely dangerous, quite unpleasant and often very painful. For several years, he didn't expect to survive no matter what the outcome would be."

Unrestrained horror showed on her face, mixed with curiosity.

"How do you know that?"

"I was inside his mind at one time."

"Harry saved him," added Hermione. "I helped a little, but it was really he who did it."

"You helped a lot, and it was your idea in the first place," he corrected. "Anyway, then he helped Draco, so we're all together in this." He tried to find the proper words to explain. "What you should know is that professor Snape is someone who had been through a lot of hardship, and he is-"

"- a complex man," completed Helen with a grin. "Yes. I noticed."

"Well, you said it." He locked eyes with her. "He really delivered when things got tough. I'd trust him with my life but," he shrugged, "it's still hard to get close to him."

Helen looked at him for a moment. It was evident that they all shared a deep bond. She tried to imagine in what kind of hell it must have been forged. She reflected on what she had seen of the man, and then she lowered her eyes.

"I've ... seen some of that." A trace of a smile showed on her face. "But I think the ice is melting a little."

"We would help in any way to make him, and you, happy," blurted out Harry. He blushed, suddenly aware of the presumption of saying such things about two adults who were certainly much more experienced than him. "I'm sorry, I -"

"Thank you," said Helen. "I think you have."

No one said anything for a moment. They just sat there, their hands wrapped around the warmth of their drinks. Helen was happy to hear Harry talk that way about Severus. It confirmed her instincts about the man. She also understood that he must have had a hard life, she probably couldn't imagine how bad, and that explained a lot about his attitude. It also encouraged her to continue seeing him.

"I want to be there at the ceremony," she said firmly. "And I will help you with the association."

Hermione nodded soberly.

"We'll be in touch. You can count on us."

"Oh, but I do." She glanced at her watch. "But we should be going, if you don't want to miss your train."

They paid quickly and proceeded to platform 9¾. Helen rejoined her children, while Harry and Hermione moved toward the wagon which was normally used by the older students. Some people waved at them from the windows. They waved back and smiled at the friends they recognized. Suddenly, Hermione got a decisive look on her face and stopped Harry from climbing in.

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed. She pointed toward the other end of the train.

"Follow me, I'll explain as we walk," she said, as she pulled him along the platform. Harry shrugged and re-adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag. She was making way toward the last wagon where Alicia and Richard were saying goodbye to their mother. Silena was standing on the train doorstep, evidently waiting for them.

"I think we should start doing a little bit of public relationship," whispered Hermione. Checking his frown, she continued. "Talking with Helen reminded me of one important thing. We need numbers on our side, and we need to be popular."

"Er, all right but what are you planning exactly?" he asked. He was suddenly uneasy at the idea of doing some kind of propaganda among the students. Leading the DA was one thing, but he didn't want to act like Fudge or any other politician.

"We're not going to do anything special," she replied, sensing some of his reluctance. "What was it that Dumbledore said? Yes, Charmers. That's what we're going to practice."

"Hermione, I-"

"Harry. All you have to do is be friendly. Ask how their vacations were, sign Chocolate Frog cards, and answer their questions. That kind of thing. You did it before, remember?"

"Yes, but that was after the Dementors attack."

"Well, this is after the victory over Voldemort." She looked at him severely. "Don't tell me a Gryffindor is scared to talk to his own schoolmates?"

He couldn't say anything to that, so he just shut up and followed her. As it happened, Alicia, Richard and Silena had waited for them and immediately brought them in their wagon. They started an excited discussion about Quidditch and skiing. Hermione was right. Harry didn't have to make any effort to initiate conversations. Every kid wanted to have a word with him, and at that age they weren't very difficult to handle. It was only after some time, that he noticed that the train had left the station, and that they were already a good distance from London. They continued to talk. Hermione participated as well, but mostly she made sure that most students had a chance to speak with one of them. No one noticed that she was also very discretely eliciting information about who their parents were, and especially if they were Muggles or if they came from pure blood families.

They moved along the train, stopping at every compartment. Word of their presence had been getting ahead of them, and by the time they had gotten to them, the third years were already queuing up for their turn. The younger Creevey brother, Dennis, appeared to be actively leading a group of Muggle or mixed blood students, showering them with anecdotes about them. He was extremely proud to have been part of the original DA, and he didn't miss any chance to let it show. After a moment, Harry found that he was really enjoying himself, and he fell into the spirit of the exercise.

"You should be Head Boy and Girl, you and Hermione," Dennis said excitedly.

Harry smiled indulgently.

"Well, maybe next year," he said.

"Of course next year," said a tall skinny girl with the Gryffindor symbol on her robe. "But this even this year, you're much more important than Desmond and Themis."

"Yeah," said someone else. "If there's any more trouble we want to know that you are on it."

"There's not just the two of us," said Hermione. "We're a team with the others."

"And maybe it's Draco who will be Head Boy," said a boy who was manifestly a Slytherin. Some of the others gave him hard looks, and he looked back stubbornly. Another Slytherin, a girl, looked at Hermione with a frightened expression, but Harry laughed good-naturedly.

"That's certainly possible," he replied, "but you know, I won't mind if that's the case. Draco's my friend." He turned toward Hermione. "Although I'd very much prefer to share the Head Boy and Girl quarters with my girlfriend." He winked at the boy who showed a sly grin and stood up.

"Okay, we'll be moving on. It was nice talking with you. Remember that we're all in the school together, even if there's only one House Cup and one Quidditch Cup."

They continued the long way toward the head of the train. It was some time before they reached their friends' compartment.

"Over there!"

"Hey mate! What took you so long?"

Harry grinned and let himself drop on one of the two seats they had saved for them.

"Just talking with a bunch of kids. How was your vacation?"

Ron stretched luxuriously in his seat, putting his legs against Luna who was across him.

"Two weeks of bliss. Me and Luna, no homework, no lessons. I loved it. How was skitting?"

"It's skiing and it was great. We took some pictures, but they're muggle style, not moving."

"Actually," said Hermione, "I think we could do something about that. I heard Colin talk about a spell for animating stills."

"What about you?" asked Harry, addressing Draco and Ginny.

"We went to the Parkinsons two days ago," replied Draco thoughtfully, "with Ginny and professor Snape."

Hermione was suddenly very interested. She looked at Ginny who nodded.

"And?"

"We meet some very interesting persons." Draco described the dinner and the discussion they had with Trevor and Lord Shrummer. Harry let out a low whistle.

"You've been moving fast."

"We didn't have much choice. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I'd like to meet these people," said Hermione thoughtfully. She wasn't sure how to evaluate this. On one hand they appeared to be typical, tradition bound pureblood families, but on the other, they vehemently opposed any Dark Lords.

"You will," replied Ginny. "At the ceremony."

"Shouldn't we speak to professor Dumbledore about this?" asked Luna.

"Snape was with us," said Draco, shrugging. They will certainly talk about it, and if the Headmaster wants to know more, then he will ask us. Besides, Lord Shrummer is a member of the Wizengamot, so they certainly know each other."

"But it doesn't mean that they're on the same side."

Draco threw her an annoyed glance. It was typical of Hermione to look for problems before they existed. Ginny changed the subject before they could start an argument.

"There's one little thing you haven't told them," she said, scowling at Draco whose face suddenly took on a vary expression.

"Hum, well we also met the owners of Nimbus Flyware." Ron's ears pricked up at that. He hadn't really followed closely the discussion about politics, but flying brooms were another matter.

"You did? Blimey, now that's something. What did they say? Anything about a new model coming out?"

Looking at Draco, Harry had a vague hunch as to where this was getting to. He measured Ginny's scowl against his friend's evident embarrassment.

"Well he was very interested in our Quidditch play." Ron started to smile, visions of themselves promoting the latest series of Nimbus brooms filling his mind. We might even get a lucrative contract that could help me start a career as a professional player.

"And?"

Draco unease was now evident.

"He's going to get a special model for the next match," declared Ginny. "So Slytherin can win the cup." He shot her an angry look, while Harry and Ron exclaimed as one.

"WHAT!"

Draco raised his hand to calm them down.

"Let me explain," he began.

"Yeah, and you better have a good story," warned Ron who looked ready to return to his former anti Slytherin attitude.

Draco looked at them stubbornly and waited until they were listening.

"I made a deal, and I think it was a fair one." He turned to Harry. "You remember when you got your Firebolt three years ago, and how it was so much better than anybody's broom?" Harry nodded.

"Well Sir Comil is going to lend me one prototype broom, which I will test during the coming match between us. This will give me a fighting chance against you." Harry's face was noncommittal, and Ron was ready to explode. "We have also agreed that after the match, he will make an equal offer to all of Hogwarts' teams."

He had insisted on that, knowing full well that it was a minimal gesture to keep the peace.

"But you'll have won the Cup by then. And all the Slytherins already have Nimbus 2001s," said Ron. "That's hardly fair for us."

Draco shrugged and indicated Ginny.

"I'm giving my own broom to Ginny, and you've won the last two Cups. I think that the scoring teams are well matched, and now the Seekers will be." He locked eyes with Harry. "I'll just get a good chance at catching the Snitch."

Harry thought about it. He was sufficiently confident about his ability to win, all other things being equal. Of course a new broom would give Draco an unknown edge, but that only added some spice.

"All right. I accept the challenge."

"You sure about this Harry?" asked Ron, who had been mentally reviewing the teams' strong and weak points. Ginny was Chaser and having a fast broom would help, the rest of the Slytherin team was unchanged, and they had played well against them last time. The only way they could lose was if Draco caught the Snitch. He would trust Harry's judgment on that.

"Yes." He flashed his triumphant smile at Draco who responded in kind. This was going to be a match to remember. The two boys had the same thought in their minds.

I'm going to pluck the Snitch from the sky, right in front of his face.

- - -

Ministry of Magic,

"It's impossible!"

Fudge took on a pained expression and sat back into his large and comfortable chair.

"My dear Arthur, not only is it quite possible, but you are perfect for the job." He considered the other man shrewdly. "This is a position of great responsibility, and it comes with a significant increase of salary." He named a flattering sum, but Arthur Weasley's stubborn expression didn't change.

If money was important to me, I'd have left long ago.

"Minister, I can't leave my job at Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I'll be abandoning Perkins and-" Fudge brushed the objection aside.

"Don't you think that Perkins can take over as Head of the department?"

"Well ..." Arthur hadn't really thought about it. Perkins knows the ropes certainly. He doesn't have a lot of experience as a manager, but then there was anybody else than the two of us. "He'll be all alone and-"

"I'll assign a junior official to help him," said the Minister decisively. Arthur grimaced and balanced his head unhappily. A rookie. He'll have to be trained. That's going to take more time.

Fudge wasn't in the mood to argue. He had effectively promised Weasley's nomination to Shrummer, in front of several witnesses. He couldn't go back.

"I'll give him two assistants. That should be quite enough. After all, you made do with only one." He tried another tack. "Come on Arthur, surely you can appreciate what a splendid opportunity it is for him to get such a promotion?"

Guilt played across Arthur's features. By refusing the assignment, he would effectively be blocking Perkins' advancement. It made his personal reticence look selfish.

"Yes but-"

"Arthur," interrupted Fudge. "I assure you it's the best decision for everyone. The entire Wizengamot is ready to approve your nomination."

That shook him.

"Even the Chief Warlock?"

"Even Dumbledore," lied Fudge smoothly. Of course he hadn't consulted him. The man took an insanely long time to decide on anything of that nature.

Arthur was disconcerted. The news of the Headmaster's approval was a final clinch, and he didn't have the presence of mind to doubt it. It was one thing to analyze dispassionately Fudge's manipulations from a distance, it was quite another to handle it in real time.

If Albus okays it then I guess I should do it.

"Well, in that case I-"

"I'm delighted that you accept the job," jumped Fudge. He stood up and walked around his desk to shake the man's hand. "My dear Arthur, I know that you are going to do a great job over there, and I wish you the best of luck." You'll need it. "Just sign here, if you please, so that we can make it official." He gave him a quill and showed him the prepared order of mission.

Arthur took the implement and let himself be guided to the proper emplacement.

This is really going too fast.

He hesitated and straightened up.

"Just a question," he said.

"Yes," replied Fudge impatiently. "What is it?"

"Will Mockridge's team stay in place?"

Fudge looked at him as if he'd asked a question about the janitor's choice of detergent. What the department heads did with their staff was not something he was very interested in, as long as they didn't go over budget, or stepped on the toes of important relations.

"My dear man. You'll have a free hand in this, within limits. If you want to make some minor changes, I won't interfere."

All right. That should give me enough leeway to handle any internal problems.

He looked at the document, feeling that there was nothing more he could do about it. He signed his name next to Fudge's and presented it to him. With a wave of his wand, the Minister made several magically certified duplicates and gave him one.

At least Molly will be happy.

They shook hands again. Fudge had the contented look of a man who had just solved a difficult problem. Arthur was feeling slightly euphoric, now that the decision had been taken. It was after all a big promotion.

"Thank you very much Minister. I assure you that I will do my best."

"But I don't doubt it, my dear Arthur. Now let me take you to your new office, and introduce you myself to your future staff."

- - -

Hogwarts,

The students were transported from the Hogsmeade station to the school in the usual manner. There was no feast, it was just a start of term after all, but the dinner was cheerful enough and most students were happy to be back, some for work, some for fun, and some for both.

The Heads of House made a brief visit to the common rooms to make sure that everything was as it should be. They reminded everyone that normal classes would resume in the morning, and therefore that turning in early was more than advisable. The prefects were enjoined to maintain the proper discipline, now that there were no possible reasons for straying from the normal academic routine.

Hermione took the instructions very seriously as usual. She chased off everybody out of the common room at ten PM, silencing Ron's offer of lenience with a glare. The boys went up to their dorms and consoled themselves with a couple of card games before turning off the lights.

- - -

Forbidden Forest,

"Left arm straight out, legs spread, face the target!" barked Lyman.

Flitz's arms were painful from the long hours of exercise. He was tired and frustrated, but the old Centaur teacher was relentless. He took the proper position once again, prepared a new arrow and concentrated on the target, a low hanging fruit the size of an orange, twenty paces away.

"Your left leg is too much forward! Think of your balance. How many times must I say it?"

Flitz shuffled his stance to find the correct alignment. It was not easy on the uneven ground, and to add to his difficulties, he was in full growth and not always comfortable with his fast changing body.

He set his jaw and fixed the target once again, picturing the fruit and the arrow in his mind, two things which he willed to join together. In one fluid gesture he pulled the bowstring, took aim and released the missile. It brushed the target by less than two inches and drove into the big ball of hay behind it.

"Missed again!" called out the Herd Mentor. His voice was as biting as before, but he privately acknowledged the improvement. He debated whether or not to allow his charge to try once more and finally decided that a little frustration wouldn't do any harm. The youth would be all the more motivated to do better next time.

"That will be enough. I think we will finish the day with some hunt training."

Flitz's disappointment was strong, but he kept his mouth shut as he turned toward his teacher and restored his bow across his chest and back in the approved fashion. Besides, hunt training was fun, and he was good at it. The Herd Mentor would pick one of the running pets and give it some time to get away and build up a lead, and then he would have to track and catch it. The difficulty, and the length, of the exercise was the degree of darkness, and the time he was made to wait before starting. He was usually asked to sing part of a song, or to recite a poem.

"Tonight I will hear the first four stanzas of 'Silver Moon Clouds' before you can go. The mares have prepared a fine meal. I will not wait long for you before I eat your share."

Lyman went to one of the baskets nearby, opened one and took out a small furry rabbit like creature. A Tackling. He held it in front of Flitz until the young Centaur had smelled him and was ready to perform. The trainee sniffed once. It was not really necessary because he had often played with that particular Tackling before, and he remembered its scent very well. It answered to the name of Tal. He nodded and Lyman threw the animal toward one of the path in the deep forest.

"Bright the Orb over the rise," intoned Flitz in as clear a voice as he could manage. "Deep are the clouds of those skies ..."

He knew that if he made a mistake he would have to start again, and if he took too long then he might have to content himself with the leftovers for his dinner. He didn't really believe that the old Centaur would be so cruel, but he might still do it for the sake of a lesson.

When he finished the last verse, Lyman lowered his arm and send him on his way. Flitz galloped quickly along the path the Tackling had taken. The Herd Mentor watched him run away and chuckled. The lad was doing well, and he had no doubt that he would be back in time.

Night was falling but that didn't bother Flitz as much as it once did. He opened his Sight to make visible the auras of the Forest's living things. The trees glowed softly, and the many insects were like fireflies everywhere. Having played this game several times, he knew that the animal would run straight for some distance before changing direction. After a few dozen strides, he slowed down and looked and breathed carefully for any clues. There! A low branch was broken but it still showed the warmth of its lingering life. It had been broken very recently. A quick sniff confirmed that his quarry had gone that way. He ran off in hot pursuit.

- - -

Hogwarts,

Albus Dumbledore came out of his office and consulted his fancy watch. What he saw there, and a quick look at the enchanted ceiling in the great hall, where the sky was bright with stars, told him that he would find Firenze outside. Not on the Astronomy tower certainly, the Centaur might barely be able to make it up the steep staircase, but in the next best place. The eastern terrace. He conjured a big fur coat, wrapped a long woolen scarf around his neck and beard, and stepped out into the courtyard.

Firenze was indeed gazing up at the stars, a thoughtful and anxious expression on his face. As the wizard came up on the terrace, the Centaur lowered his head and looked longingly at the distant edge of the Forest.

"Good evening, Firenze,"

"Blessings to you, Headmaster," he replied formally.

Neither said anything more. Firenze was clearly preoccupied, and Dumbledore, as usual, took the time to read his mood. He looked up for a moment but divination had never been his strong point. He had actually spent several years trying to read the stars as these puzzling creatures did. A significant investment of time for most wizards, but it was only a small part of his 170 years. Still, it was a difficult discipline and the results were meager at best, even if he could recognize a few signs.

"Trouble?" he asked gently.

"I sense my son out there, and danger as well," said the Centaur in a low voice.

"Danger? Is anything menacing the Herd? He is still a child and they would protect him."

"He is no longer a foal. He passed the Ritual a few days ago." And I was not there.

Dumbledore knew a little about Centaur customs. He understood that after their coming of age, the young Centaurs where extensively trained before being considered fully adults. He also knew that the Ritual was a very important moment. No Centaur had ever explained these mysteries to him, but he had some ideas nonetheless.

He looked at Firenze and saw the sadness on his face.

"I have asked a bigger sacrifice of you than I realized, my friend."

"I chose freely, and your need was great." And I can trust Lyman to look after him, but I miss my little Flitz.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Firenze could not take his eyes away from the Forest. The sense of danger was stronger, he could feel it. It was even colder than the wind.

"I must go there," he said suddenly. "Right now." He hesitated and turned a pleading look at the wizard. "Will you come with me?"

Dumbledore nodded. He could sense the Centaur's agitation, and if he had to go into the Forest, Firenze would need someone to protect him from his own people, and from whatever was out there. It would be the least he could do.

- - -

Forbidden Forest,

Flitz ran for several minutes. He didn't fear getting lost. He could orient himself and find the camp easily. It was as if he had a compass in his head. Some parts, several parts actually, of the Forest were dangerous, but he could expect an early warning, and the one he was chasing would be even more wary of any predator. There was nothing at all to fear. He could smell that he was close, when he came upon a large clearing. He stopped as a sudden menacing hiss was heard, like the sound of a red hot rock touching water.

The Tackling was hunched next to a tree stump and facing what looked like a large black bat which was evidently attacking it. Flitz had never seen such a creature before, but he didn't hesitate. He took out his bow and nocked an arrow, expanding his Sight to encompass any other surprise which might be lurking around him. The Tackling glowed white with life force and fear. Other small animals could be seen in the grass, hiding behind branches and tree, but the bat like creature remained as dark as before. It darted toward its prey and barely missed it when it turned around the stump.

That's odd. Nothing alive should be so dark, and nothing dead should move so quickly.

Even the thing's movements were strange. They were jerky, blindingly fast but strangely uncoordinated. He could hear Tal's whimper of fear. The poor thing had expected a friendly chase and run, but it was turning into a nightmare.

Flitz pulled the bowstring and aimed at the moving black shape. The arrow zipped toward its target and nipped one of its wings. He heard the sound of something crystalline breaking, but there was no time to examine the results. The thing reacted with blinding speed and immediately flew toward him, hissing with fury. A wave of pure terror struck him and his muscles froze while the creature rushed toward his position. The shape wasn't entirely dark. Bright burning eyes could be seen in its face. The Centaur shook himself out of his paralysis and, with barely a second to spare, jumped to the side and let it crash into a nearby tree, but not before a talon racked his upper arm.

Flitz ran away into the forest, zig-zagging between trees and branches. He was still terrified, and his shoulder was burning in pain, but his reaction was sound. The thing was following him, but it had more trouble evading the many obstructions. The noise it made, crashing into foliage and breaking small twigs, along with that awful hissing sound, was enough to give him strength to move faster than ever before. His Sight helped him as well. The chase continued for a moment when suddenly, he saw a familiar vapory shape accelerate in front of him and jump nimbly around the trees. Trusting his instincts, he followed its movements and found that it helped him negotiate the obstacles even better. It was a few seconds before he realized that the shape was exactly like his own. It was as if he knew in advance what turn to make to progress as fast as possible. The sounds of pursuit lessened behind him as he gained on the creature and some calm returned to his mind.

I've got to return into the clearing while I have some lead on it. Then I will be able to shoot at it again.

It was very dangerous, but he was already tiring, and there was no possibility that he could maintain such a pace all the way back to the camp. He willed to find a way back toward the open space. The ghost image obliged and inclined to the right. He followed it and saw the outline of the forest's edge. He came out running into the clear, counted four strides and turned abruptly while placing a new arrow to his bow. Lyman would have been proud of his coordination.

The thing was just coming out of the trees. In his Sight, he could see it as a pure black winged shape against the glowing background of the living vegetation. In addition to wings, it had legs and arms which ended in vicious looking talons. He didn't have any time to concentrate, but in his mind the arrow and the target were one. He pulled and let go in one fluid gesture. The missile flew straight into the left wing of the creature and shattered it in several pieces.

It broke up like brittle clay. What is this?

Whatever the thing was, it was not dead. It could not fly anymore but it still moved quickly on the ground toward him, gripping the grass with its claws. The insane terror returned, but he forced himself to act. Stringing a new arrow he aimed again, but before he could shoot, the thing had jumped at him, and he felt a sharp jab of pain in his chest. Loosing the bow he grabbed at it and tried to throw it away. It felt like hot stone. He strained convulsively with all his strength, and heard something break as he felt a terrible pain in his side. He screamed and battered the ground in rage with his forelegs. The creature was badly damaged but still moving, and he realized that he had to destroy it before it could attack again. He had no weapon left, and there was no time to recover his bow. All he had were his hands and legs. He forced himself to move toward the half broken thing and trampled the remains blindly, feeling the hard parts break under his hooves.

He took a step away and fell on the ground, exhausted. He stopped moving and hugged himself, trying to surround the pain which flared with every breath. His heart was beating fast from the exertions and the stress. Nothing moved except for the terrified Tackling who cautiously left its hiding to approach the wounded Centaur. Flitz was dizzy with shock. He barely felt the small creature licking at his wounds and tremble against him. He was losing consciousness, and somehow he knew that this was a very dangerous thing to do. He had to get help.

The Tackling, I've got to send him back, Lyman will understand the message.

He pushed away the animal, saying the Herd Mentor's name several times. After a moment, the little creature seemed to understand and went away, obviously reluctant to leave him, but obeying nonetheless. Once it was gone, Flitz prepared himself to wait. His thinking was becoming sluggish, and he couldn't even hold his Sight anymore. The normal Darkness of the forest gradually surrounded him. Weak with reaction, he wasn't even afraid of being alone. All he wanted was to rest, and to sleep, but he struggled not to.

- - -

Hogwarts grounds,

Firenze and Dumbledore had come down quickly from the terrace and into the grounds outside the castle. The Headmaster was moving much faster than a man of his age could be expected too, but it was still not good enough for Firenze.

"Can't you run faster?" asked the Centaur.

"Unfortunately no," replied the wizard. "I wouldn't presume to ask you to carry me, so I am afraid that this is the best I can do. I will not force you to wait for me."

Firenze shook his mane angrily and started to gallop toward the Forest's edge, but he knew it was a stupid thing to do without the Headmaster. In addition to the unknown danger he had sensed, he was bound to meet some of his people, and if he was alone they would not even listen to him. He stopped and turned back toward the wizard.

"I can conceive of no other circumstances under which I would even consider such a thing," he said with acute distaste. "Get on with it, and pray that no one sees us."

Dumbledore performed a quick cushioning and anchoring spell and jumped gracefully on the Centaur's back.

"I will not actually touch you. Your honor should be safe," he couldn't resist saying.

He disillusioned them with another wave of his wand. This would not be very effective against a Centaur Sight at close range, but combined with the normal cover of the woods, it should be enough for discrete traveling.

Firenze rode hard, not wasting any time. Dumbledore hung on and congratulated himself on the quality of his anchoring charm. No human muscles would have kept him on any horse in such a ride. The Centaur seemed to know where he was going, but he didn't explain how. They had their ways, and any questions would certainly have to wait. The Headmaster was soon busy enough evading the low branches zipping past his head.

- - -

Forbidden Forest,

The pain was bad. There was something in his side. He could taste blood, and every breath was agony. He had tried to be brave and to stay calm, but he couldn't hold back the whimpers and the sobs anymore. Why was it taking so long? Adults should be here to help him. It wasn't fair.

Lost in the haze of pain, Flitz didn't notice immediately the change in his surrounding. The hurting was getting worse, and it was so hopeless and cold. As he looked before him, he noticed the grass turning white with frost. That surprised him. Even though it was winter, the temperature wasn't that cold. New feelings of dread filled him, and they were even worse than the pain of his wound. Something was wrong. He looked up and saw a black shape in coming into the clearing.

Another demon! I'm not going to be able to fight it.

Able or not, he would make a stand and die fighting. That much was expected of any Centaur. Gritting his teeth he made a desperate effort to recover his bow. The quiver of arrows was on his back and reaching behind him to get one was impossible. He managed to shrug his shoulder and drop it on the ground. He didn't see how he was going to bend the bow in his condition. It would hurt even more, but if he was going to die, then pain would not be of any importance.

He stringed the arrow and started to pull but the agony was too much.

"Aaaah!"

He had to scream and there was no real strength behind the shot. The arrow flew straight but didn't do anything as it passed through the monster's shape.

"Expecto Patronum!" intoned Dumbledore.

A great silver Phoenix shot out of his wand, its blinding light illuminating the clearing. The Dementor fled back in disarray. Firenze knew that there was nothing he could do against that kind of creature, so he rushed toward the crumpled form on the ground. Even without the light, he had recognized it.

"Flitz! What happened? Are you- Headmaster! He's hurt!"

Dumbledore quickly moved toward the two Centaurs. The Patronus had disappeared, but a powerful light from his wand showed the blood running down Flitz's coat, arm and face. The chest wound looked serious. The young Centaur had his hand clenched against it.

"Be careful Firenze. He mustn't be moved until we can check the bleeding."

"He's dying! He must be transported to where we can heal him!"

"Father ..." murmured the youth, coughing blood.

"I'm here Flitz. You must stay still. We will take care of you." Firenze's face was a mask of anguish. He bent down to press his face to that of his son.

Dumbledore considered the situation. None of them were healers, and he didn't know enough about Centaur physiology to make a proper diagnostic, but the wound was in the human part, and the lung was probably perforated.

Fawkes I need you.

A shrill cry was suddenly heard, and the red Phoenix glided gracefully into the clearing. Dumbledore smiled and gestured to his trusted familiar. The bird landed next to the young Centaur and considered the bleeding chest wound. Then he looked pointedly back at the old wizard.

There must be something in the wound. I must remove it first.

"Flitz, can you hear me?"

Firenze raised his head and Flitz managed to turn a little toward his. He was pale and trembling. His teeth were chattering.

"Flitz, listen to me. Fawkes will cure your wound, but first I will have to remove what is inside you. It will hurt, but it will not last long. Can you take your hand away?"

The youth gulped and nodded hesitantly. Fear and pain visible in his eyes. Firenze took his bloody hand in his and brought it against his face. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the wound.

"Waddiwasi!"

Flitz screamed in pain as the golem talon shot out of his side, followed by a gushing of blood and clearer liquid. Immediately, Fawkes bent his head and two big tears fell on the gaping hole. The Centaur led out a sob and dropped his head on the ground. It still hurt, but not as much, and the feeling was fading. Firenze embraced him and cried unashamedly, as the Phoenix dropped more tears on the rest of the wounds, while Dumbledore checked that there was nothing else wrong with him.

"What is happening here?" sounded the deep furious voice of Bane as he entered the clearing, closely followed by Lyman.

The little Tackling passed them by and ran directly toward Flitz, snuggling against him. The two Centaurs considered the situation. They had been surprised to see the pet come back to the camp, its fur covered in blood, and highly distressed. They reasoned correctly that something unforeseen must have happened to Flitz, and quickly left to go and help him, after notifying someone to rouse a healer and follow their tracks. The young Centaur was still lying on the ground in a pool of blood, and next to him were the Firenze renegade and the Hogwarts Headmaster. Two persons who had no rights to be in the Forest.

"Good evening Bane," replied Dumbledore calmly. He turned to face the two Centaurs, his wand still in his hand, but not directed at anyone.

"This youth has been attacked, first by some unknown creature, and then by one of the remaining Dementors still lurking in these parts. He was hurt but he should recover."

Lyman looked at Flitz, who was still clinging to his bow. The quiver of arrows was lying on the ground, its content spilled. The lad had evidently been fighting before being overcome.

"Can you talk? What is it that attacked you?" asked Bane.

Flitz gestured to the remains of the golem gargoyle.

"It attacked the Tackling. I shot at him, but it wasn't good enough. Then I ran and turned around." He described the combat, and Firenze looked at him with undisguised pride. So young and yet he had fought well and courageously against a deadly enemy. Even Bane was impressed. He exchanged a look with Lyman who nodded gravely. They examined the remains of the golem and turned toward Dumbledore.

"I have never seen one of these," said Bane. "Do you know what this is?" he asked of the wizard.

Dumbledore took one of the pieces of stone and tapped it with his wand. The stone shone blue for a moment and then faded back to a dull grey.

"A guardian statue," confirmed the wizard. "They are usually found around houses to be protected. Very few people use them anymore." He looked pointedly at Bane. "There are none at Hogwarts."

"So it must have come from some other place," said Firenze. The two others suddenly reacted to his presence.

"You are not welcome here Firenze," said Bane in a hard voice. "Did I not make myself clear that last time?"

The younger Centaur bristled.

"I came back to help my son! I can understand your spite toward me, but would you let one of the Herd die because of it?" He threw an accusing look at Lyman. "You trained him well, but your duty was also to protect him." Lyman winced at the reproach. He was already feeling the guilt at having let the youth in such danger.

"We didn't know such a thing was around," replied Bane hotly. "There should have been no danger which he couldn't escape from, and no danger at all except from your wizard friends' doings." All Centaurs and foals had been warned to run away from the Dementors, and the other dangerous creatures of the Forest had learned not to look for trouble. They would never have bothered a young Centaur.

"Please!" interrupted Dumbledore. "This dispute is fruitless and unbecoming. Bane, I truly believe that you should reconsider your position."

"You are no more welcome than he is old man," shot back the Centaur. "What is your business in here?" He stepped menacingly toward the wizard but stopped when Fawkes let out a shrill cry and batted his wing in front of him.

"How dare you say this!" screamed Firenze. "Flitz would be dead if not for the Headmaster and the Bird of Fire."

"Was that the price for selling our secrets?" said Bane. "I -"

"Silencio" said Dumbledore softly, and Bane suddenly found that he had no voice. The wizard smiled apologetically.

"Forgive me, Bane, we really need to talk, but I am very much afraid that you will not listen well if I let you continue. You might even say regrettable things."

Bane looked back furiously at Dumbledore's gentle face. The old monkey dared use magic on me! He would have trampled him, but that damned bird of his would surely prevent it, and who knew what the wizard was capable of? He turned toward Lyman for support but the old Centaur was looking at him with an unmistakably disapproving expression. This stopped him. The leader of the Herd could not go against the declared opposition of one such as the Herd Mentor.

Bane closed his mouth, stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. He glared, waiting for them to state their case.

Dumbledore retraced how he and Firenze had sensed the danger to Flitz and decided to intervene.

"And I wish it to be extremely clear, that Firenze came to help us only for the teaching of general mundane matters. He has not revealed any hidden knowledge, and we have not asked him to." He held Bane's gaze. "That was the basis of our agreement, and it has been kept scrupulously."

Bane scowled and looked at Firenze who ignored him. The Centaur reached out and stroked his son's mane affectionately.

"To think that I missed your time of First Stone. I would have so much liked to be there."

Flitz smiled back.

"It was wonderful father. The Pure One spoke in my head ... he showed pictures."

Firenze looked up in surprise and turned toward Lyman and Bane. Dumbledore tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but he kept his ears wide open.

"A Pure One came at his Ritual?" Who was it?"

"It was Laurell," said Lyman.

"Himself! Do you realized what this means?"

"I don't understand," asked Flitz. "Who is Laurell?"

"He is one of the oldest of the Pure Ones, and one of the most revered," replied Lyman. "It is a great blessing, and a great honor, that he was there." The old Centaur showed a rare smile of appreciation. "And from what happened here tonight, I must say that you truly deserved it. We will tell many stories of the brave Centaur who fought valiantly and did not let go of his bow in the face of death." He lowered his head in respect and Flitz beamed with pride and happiness.

The Herd Mentor turned toward Bane.

"Herd Master you have asked for my advice and here it is. The facts are clear to my eyes, and so are the Signs. Firenze should be allowed back in the Herd. I will bear witness that his actions were honorable, and that his son deserves to have a father at his side. Troubled times are coming and we do not need to fight among ourselves."

He lowered his head and addressed Firenze without looking at him.

"Forgive me, Firenze, for not protecting your blood. I have failed you both, and I will understand if you wish to continue the instruction of your son yourself. I may have lost your trust, but the youth is destined for great things, and I will still help him as much as I can."

He started to move away sadly. Dumbledore, who knew better than anyone what the old teacher must be feeling, would have liked to intervene, but he knew that it would be a grave mistake to meddle in their affairs, and so he stayed silent.

"Master no!" cried out Flitz, getting up and rushing toward the Herd Mentor. "I want you to stay." He turned toward Firenze. "Father, please tell him. He cared for me ... better than anyone."

Firenze was already regretting his harsh words, all the more since he now owned the old Centaur the right to return to his beloved Forest.

"Lyman, my old friend, it is I who should ask for forgiveness. I offer my thanks for what you have done. You have my trust, and I would be proud to see you continue with your teaching."

He looked at Dumbledore.

"I do not think that you need me anymore, Headmaster. Do I have the permission to leave your service?"

"You have my friend, and I will be ever thankful for your help."

Everyone turned toward Bane who was getting more restless every minute that passed. He gestured impatiently to Dumbledore.

"Finite Incantanum," he murmured with a discrete gesture, giving the Centaur leader an apologetic smile.

"Hum!" said Bane, shaking his mane and looking at them with a furious scowl on his face. It would be an understatement to say that he was not pleased with what had happened, but he was also aware of what little he could do to change it.

"Headmaster," he said coldly.

"Yes Herd Leader?" replied Dumbledore politely, reminding him of their respective responsibilities.

"Tonight, you have heard many things which no humans should know about." There was a hint of menace in the Centaur's words. The Headmaster was powerful, but some secrets would be defended at all costs.

"You know that I will not abuse that privilege, and that you can count on my discretion," said Dumbledore. "I will tell no one." He did not offer to Obliviate himself. He wasn't sure that the Centaur understood that it could be done. Besides he was fascinated by what he had learned.

Bane was still frowning, but he didn't press for more, and they might actually need the wizard's help again one day. He turned toward the three Centaurs and fixed Firenze.

"I heed the words of the Herd Mentor. You may rejoin the Herd." Flitz brightened, and Firenze nodded curtly. Bane gestured toward the remains of the golem.

"Lyman, I charge you to look into this matter. If a new menace is rising then we need to be prepared."

"Perhaps I can help you with that?" proposed Dumbledore hopefully.

Bane looked at him. He weighted the risks against the gains. There were too many unknowns. He trusted Dumbledore, up to a point, but he also knew that he didn't speak for all humans.

"No, we will handle this our way."

The Headmaster didn't press the matter. Should the prickly creatures change their minds, they would know how to contact him. He bid them goodnight, winked at Flitz who smiled back at him, and went away, followed by Fawkes.

Returning Ch15 - 19