Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 26 - I do

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Night gave way to morning and the sounds of hooves stomping past the hut woke Harry, but Gabriella still slept. The long strands of her hair wrapped Harry's bare chest like a warm blanket and he began to stroke the side of her face, slipping his fingers gently about her ear and down the back of her neck. He pulled the wool coverlet up over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Still, she did not stir.

Was it possible? Were they really--

A familiar cough came from outside the hut's door, deliberate and loud.

"Enter," Harry whispered softly, knowing that the Centaur could hear half as soft a voice. Macleta entered, wearing a warm smile. She bowed her head and then stepped forward.

"I trust all is well?" she asked.

Harry nodded silently in reply.

"The morning meal will soon be served. It would do you both well to eat."

"She's tired," Harry said softly.

"Yes," replied Macleta, "it was a long night, I'm sure." Her eyes twinkled, but her face was serene.

Harry could tell she was being feisty, but her expression was unchanging, very much in the manner of a Centaur. He smiled and raised his free hand to shake a finger at her, and it was then that he noticed the mark on his left ring finger. It looked as if someone had tattooed a band upon his skin. It matched the weaving of the gold ring he had given to Gabriella, only the colours woven were red, blue and green. They flowed in and out of each other like a braid that wrapped about his finger. Macleta noticed the confusion on Harry's face. She stepped closer and admired the symbol's clarity and coloration. It was no mere marking, for when it caught the morning light slipping in through the hut's door it shimmered, making Harry believe that he could grasp it and slip it off. Harry was surprised when he saw the faintest hint of a smile appear upon Macleta's face.

"Hmmm. Dragonfire. It is... what you have done... a tremendous act of devotion."

"Devotion?" Harry asked.

"A connubial ring," Macleta answered quietly. "There are few Centaurs capable of--"

"But I never even tried to--"

"One does not wear a connubial ring because they think they should. They cannot wave a wand and make it so. Such a symbol can only come from the heart. It is a deep magic, rarely seen, but, for the faithful, the forest provides such. Your connection with the great beasts and with the small is strong. Since first you arrived to our lands, these trees have known your name, even the earth, as it did yesterday, springs forth to help save your life. The forest has been one with you, nature your ally. Firenze saw it first; soon after you met, he discerned your path. It was he who convinced Ronan to consider the possibility that you might be the Chosen. That was four years ago, before any knew that Ebyrth would return."

"Firenze?" Harry asked, not really expecting an answer. He leaned back and again began to stroke Gabriella's hair with one hand, holding the other up near his face to examine his finger. He was not disquieted by its appearance. To the contrary, he found the unique banding a comfort and smiled to himself, releasing a soft, contented sigh. "I have not seen Firenze for quite some time. Is he well?"

"Yes," answered Macleta, "but quite busy. He was here earlier, but had to return to his duties. He was asked to leave word with your Dumbledore that you are both healthy and that you shall return today." A brief expression of sadness crossed her face. "Firenze did bring news that may trouble you. Though none of us can cheat the cycles of the sun, he asked that you be told. Your Master's star wanes."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. "Dumbledore?"

"I saw the day when his star was first born."

"When Dumbledore was born?" The beat of Harry's heart began to accelerate. He was about to sit up, but forced himself to relax, to control his emotions, and let Gabriella sleep. Macleta's expression grew distant, whimsical as she remembered another time, not better, but perhaps more dear as memories often are.

"Not when he was born," she corrected. "When his star was born. Long ago, my mother foretold the coming of a new age for the magical beings of the earth - a small seed that would change the enmity that had so long grown between our races. Dumbledore's star was born when he defeated Grindelwald, and the darkness of hatred was diminished. For years, his star waxed bright in the morning sky. It was this brightness that convinced Firenze that it was time for Centaur and wizard to work together against the darkness, to protect you against Voldemort when you were less than a colt. Others were not convinced that the time for such an alliance was at hand."

"Yeah, and some still aren't," said Harry. "Shahan for example."

"Centuries of mistrust and disparity are not easily washed away, Harry Potter. It was but two years ago that a mad witch began wildly firing at the herd - at the time, she was the very leader of the school you are so quick to support."

"Umbridge," Harry hissed. "She wasn't my leader!" The loudness aroused Gabriella if only for a moment. Her arm stretched and her hand came to rest upon Harry's belly.

"There is much work to be had by both sides." Macleta bowed her head once more. "Please, you must come... eat and prepare for the new day." Without another word she slipped out of the hut, before Harry realized he'd forgotten to ask her what exactly she meant by Dumbledore's star waning. He was about to call for her, when the hand on his belly began to slide up his chest and back down. Gabriella began to finger the trailing of hair beneath Harry's bellybutton.

"I thought she'd never leave," she whispered. "Are you ready to get up?" she asked, her hand slipping lower. She lifted her head to look into his eyes. He wondered if ever he would be able to say no to her and quickly realized that his fate was sealed. He kissed her on the lips.

"Yes," he replied, rising.

Some time later, Harry, with Gabriella at his side, emerged from the Centaur hut. He held her arm in his and even she marvelled at the new scintillating symbol emblazoned upon Harry's ring finger. Soseh had told her of such things in stories when she was quite young. It was the stuff of fairytales and magic. She pulled Harry close, imagining, if only for a moment, that he was her prince and she his princess.

Together with Felspar, they moved toward the great opening where the herd was assembling for breakfast. Neither wore clothes, nor did they bear weapons, for it was forbidden within the confines of the Centaur village. Harry told her she'd get used to the feeling, but she was unconvinced. In fact, she was more nervous about being naked than fearful from the Centaurs that passed by - a tremendous improvement, Harry figured, in Centaur-Wizard relations. Not once did she refer to them as 'beasts'.

Harry noticed that as the Centaurs approached them they would first bow their heads to Gabriella and then to Harry. After this had happened a few times, Gabriella looked up at Harry and said, "They don't bow to each other like that. What's it all about? And why me first? I feel a bit like royalty." The morning sun caught the band on Harry's finger and dazzled his eye.

"I think, in a way, you are," said Harry, bowing his own head, returning that of the last passing Centaur. They had spent nearly the entire year together since Harry first encountered the Centaurs and was thrown into the Falls of the Forbidden Forest. Yet in all that time, Gabriella refused to speak with him about his experience. "Gabriella," he continued, "where the Centaurs are concerned, we have some catching up to do."

When they came to the large gathering for their meal, they found the tables filled with food and nearly a hundred Centaurs waiting to eat. Harry was shocked to discover they were all delaying their meal for the arrival of the Chosen one and his mate. Ronan met the two as they approached and took Gabriella by the hand, escorting them to a table that very much resembled the head table at Hogwarts.

"I must offer you my apologies," he said to Gabriella, "for it was I that struck you near your heart." Without thinking, Gabriella's hand moved up to the spot on her breast where the arrow had pierced. No mark now remained. Her mind fell back to that moment when the arrow struck and Voldemort still had control of her consciousness. Her body shuddered - not for the arrow, but for the darkness that had so utterly controlled her.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry. All Centaur eyes were upon them, but he turned to face Gabriella. "We don't need to do this." She looked past him at those assembled. At the centre of the head table, Magorian, their leader, stood with two open spaces at his right.

"Yes we do," she said quietly. She took in a large breath, as if preparing for a dive in the lake and then let it out slowly. She smiled, kissed Harry on the cheek, and then stepped up onto the rise toward the great stone table where Magorian stood. Gabriella bowed as she approached, placing a fist to her heart as the Centaurs had earlier done to her; she did resemble royalty.

"Sir," she said deferentially. Harry followed in kind. Magorian appreciated the gestures and bowed his head. He raised his hands and demanded the attention of all those gathered. It was hard for Harry to fathom why they would all wait to eat until the two of them had arrived.

"Not since the days of old, when Gryffindor ate at this very stone, a stone he helped my great-grandsire hew, has a wizard supped at our table. We welcome, this morning, our Chosen and his mate, that they might stand as an eternal flame against the pressing cold that would consume us."

No one said a word, but there was a near deafening pounding of hooves, although, against a thatch covered wall to his left, Harry noticed a few fuming faces. Among them were both Bane and Shahan; the latter's eyes were filled with a greater expression of rage, well out of place among the mostly dispassionate Centaurs. Then Magorian looked at Harry, who took a moment before he realized he was supposed to say something. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat, searching for words.

"Ebyrth... Ebyrth has returned, marking the coming of yet another battle against the darkness. It is a battle I fought just last year, a battle I thought I had won." He glanced at Gabriella. She stood proud and impassive, her eyes fierce, but unyielding of emotion. Harry could not help but smile, knowing that she was sensing the emotions around her and reflecting them back in her facial expression to the crowd. A perfect Centaur, he thought.

"You well know that we fought hard in the Carpathians. A great many brave Centaurs lost their lives that night, but many more of our foes fell and the darkness was repelled. But that did not, that will not end the onslaught of darkness. The Dementors--" There was a low hiss. "The Dementors have joined with the wizard, Voldemort, who darkened your doorstep just yesterday - the foe I failed to vanquish last year and who has dogged me and mine these last many months. It will not be long before he gathers the Dementor darkness and others who would serve his will. Soon they will arrive here as one. On that day we too must stand together, wizard and Centaur, elf and goblin, even the merpeople of the lake - all must stand united against this darkness... this evil.

"My... mate and I owe you are lives." Harry turned to Ronan and nodded toward him, but the Centaur looked away, almost embarrassed. "I have trained hard to learn your ways, to fight as one with the Centaur herd. My knowledge is less than that of a colt, but I will do all that is within my power to defeat that which threatens both our peoples. Together, we can--"

There was a crash. Shahan slapped a clay pitcher of mead with the back of his hand and it smashed against the trunk of a tree, shattering to pieces and spraying liquid high into the air. He turned to leave.

"Shahan!" called Magorian. The young Centaur stopped and turned to face his leader. His eyes smouldered as he crossed his arms, but he spoke not. Magorian continued in a firm, but fatherly voice. "There is a darkness on your soul that stains your mind and weakens your heart. You would do well to step back from the brink and meditate on its source. Stay alert this night under the stars and divine its meaning." Shahan huffed, but said nothing. Again, he turned to leave.

"And Shahan," said Magorian with a voice of steel, "if ever you embarrass our herd again, you will be banished. Is that understood?" Shahan nodded, but the gesture was insufficient. "IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes, Magorian," muttered Shahan, placing a fist over his heart and offering a bow. For a moment his eyes drifted over to Harry; there was hatred. "It is understood." He turned and left in silence, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

"Let us eat!" called Magorian. Harry was about to dig in when every Centaur placed arm to chest, and raised their faces toward the heavens. There were no words spoken and the silence lasted but a few seconds. Then, Magorian and the others lifted their heads and all began to eat.

The meal was simple, but satisfying and both Harry and Gabriella ate their fill. There were no chairs and they stood throughout, sharing simple pleasantries with Magorian. At the meal's end, there were no house elves to usher plates away. Instead, a good portion of the herd remained behind and assisted cleaning the dishes using dry sand and water. By the time they left the tent, the sun was high above the forest canopy and Harry and Gabriella said their good-byes.

Firenze had left fresh clothes for the two of them and they dressed before leaving Terntalag. Quietly, Ronan escorted them back to the edge of the forest without incident. Occasionally, Harry noticed a fleck of white appear behind the trees. He knew that it was Felspar, following them. With few words, they came to a charred depression that spanned the ground a good twenty to thirty feet across. In the centre of the ashes was a small sapling, some two feet high.

"The same tree?" Harry asked. "It survived?"

"No," replied Ronan. "But the cycle of life can still continue. Felspar planted this tree last night in the rain. She has named it Cariad."

"Love," whispered Harry. Gabriella looked into his eyes and took him in her arms.

"Very good, Harry Potter," said Ronan with a nod of his head. "You show much promise. I only wish we had some years to prepare."

"Please, give our thanks to Felspar, Ronan," said Gabriella with heartfelt sincerity.

"None are required. It is our charge in these magical lands. Now, be on your way."

Arm in arm, they walked out of the forest and onto the castle grounds. The air was cool, but the sun's bright rays were warming, and quite a few students were out on the grounds. Nobody seemed to notice that Harry and Gabriella had been gone for the day and night, or if they did, they didn't care. As they stepped toward the castle, Harry's pace slowed.

"We cant' tell them you were possessed," he said. "Nobody has to know."

"We have to tell--"

"You don't understand," he interrupted. "Just like Ginny, they'll never look at you the same. Ever since the Chamber of Secrets was opened, they still fear her. Oh, they'll smile to her face, they'll act friendly, but they won't get close, not alone close - none, but Dean."

"Even still, we have to tell Dumbledore," Gabriella argued. "He has to know." Harry nodded silently. They walked a little further and he slowed again.

"And the ring?" he asked.

"Rings," she corrected, holding his left hand up so that the band upon his finger caught the afternoon sun, its iridescent glow forced him to squint his eyes.

"You know what Ron and Hermione will do if they find out that we--"

"I won't take it off."

"No. But... let's just say that... that we're engaged. That... that this..." he touched his left hand with his right, "...this is just a tradition of the Votary." Her face scowled, none too pleased with the idea. "They're my friends," he added. "I've upstaged Ron every day since we've been at Hogwarts. I want him to have his moment, without thinking that I beat him to it."

"Okay." Gabriella nodded. "For now, but don't be surprised if Hermione recognizes a connubial ring when she sees it. They're in all the great romance novels." She smiled, her eyes twinkling. They stopped halfway to the castle and kissed each other. The embrace was interrupted be an acerbic drawl.

"Well, if it isn't the king and queen of the ball!"

Harry spun to see Nott, flanked by Crabbe, Millicent and a few other younger Slytherins. What surprised Harry the most was the presence of Blaise Zabini a few steps behind the cluster of green, but clearly a member of the pack. Nott stepped toward Harry, glancing from left to right, and his followers fanned about, shielding the scene from any prying eyes. Blaise was still a few paces back, but pulled his wand with all the others. Harry had not carried his wand to training, but Gabriella slipped her hand around hers without pulling it forth. Nott, certain that he finally had the advantage, was emboldened and slipped his own wand away, stepping closer until he was toe-to-toe with Harry.

"What? No wand, Potter?" asked the Slytherin. "That's a bit daft, don't you think? Everyone knows..." he dropped his voice down low, "the Death Eaters are out to kill you."

Without reaction, Harry closed his eyes, reaching out his mind to see if any of those facing him might have been taken by Voldemort. Each individual aura, however, bore a singular colour. Some were scared, others filled with hate. Blaise, however, was the calmest of them all, which was also the most disquieting to Harry. Still, relieved that he was simply facing his fellow students, Harry opened his eyes and smiled.

"Teddy, you're looking well," he said calmly. "I see that your, erm... fits have subsided long enough to convince the crew that you can be their leader again!" Harry referred to the sloshes in Nott's memory that had left him speechless, or speaking gibberish for no reason at all. The leftover effects of James', or rather Voldemort's mental attack on him. "If only you recognized the master you truly serve... you might be more prudent in your actions."

"You're in no position to prattle, Potter." Nott pointed his finger in Harry's face, but in a whirl Harry grabbed him by the wrist. "What? You think I'm frightened of you, Potter? You'll do what I say, or..." There was a burning smell in the air. "...be a good boy and... Hey!" Nott noticed the small plume of smoke rising from his right arm. The black band of ebony upon Harry's finger, the ring of Pravus, had burned through the outer sleeve of Nott's robes and now he was beginning to sense the heat. He tried to pull away, but Harry held him fast. "Let me go!" he yelled.

The smell of burning cloth gave way to burning flesh, and Nott began to cry out, now in pain. Millicent cast a spell at Harry, but Gabriella shielded it. Then Crabbe and another Slytherin raised their wands, but they were stopped short by a flash of purple light.

"Bohaira!"

The ground erupted before them and dust filled the air, blotting out all vision. Harry felt Nott being yanked away. Unable to see, he reached out with his mind. Blaise still stood off and to the side, but the others, including Nott, had plummeted down. Gabriella reached for Harry's arm, supporting herself in the whirlwind. At first, Harry thought that the group had been blown to the ground, but their bodies were not prone, but erect. They were standing, but beneath the surface of the earth. When the dust finally settled, he looked down to discover all of them buried up to their necks in the soil. Barely able to move her head, Millicent began to scream in panic, suddenly drawing attention to the gathering. Harry watched as Blaise slipped his wand away.

"You?" Harry mouthed. Blaise just smiled and retreated toward the castle, his fellow Slytherins unable to turn their heads to see him. Students began to rush over, as Nott spat dirt from his mouth, cursing Harry for what he'd done. One of the first to arrive was Neville Longbottom who seemed to be more observant that the others as to what had just happened. Seeing that Harry and Gabriella were fine, he began to walk around the mysterious pit, almost as if he were taking notes. His eyes glinted with satisfaction, which disturbed Harry somewhat.

"How'd he do that?" coughed another buried Slytherin, breaking Harry's concentration on his fellow Gryffindor.

"You'll pay for this, Potter!" Nott yelled. He tried to twist his neck, but was unable to watch as Harry and Gabriella followed Blaise up toward the castle's front steps.

While they walked, Harry looked down at the black band about his finger and, wondering, touched his tongue to its glossy surface. It was hot, but it didn't burn, at least not Harry.

Gabriella stopped Blaise just before he reached the castle steps. "A bit risky, don't you think?" she asked. "Going against your Slytherin mates and all."

"You're a Slytherin," he said with a sly smile. "So I didn't violate the code, did I? Besides, they think Potter did it, not me. I'll just say I ran." He chuckled to himself. "They'll believe that."

"But why?" asked Harry. "It's not going to do much for House unity."

"Isn't it?" queried Blaise. "A friend asked that I watch your back."

"A friend?" asked Harry. "Not Draco?"

"Patrick." Blaise drew in a breath of air. "He and I share a common bond. We'll both see Voldemort pay for what he's done to us and that includes any bastards that support him. I don't care what house they're from."

He turned and started up the steps, Gabriella and Harry continued to follow as students tried to extract Nott and his pals from the soil without much success. Someone had tried to explode them out and Nott was yelling that they nearly tore off his head. Just after the three passed in through the castle doors, Blaise looked around to ensure that they were alone and stepped close to Harry - so close he could feel his breath.

"As for Draco...," said Blaise in a hushed voice. "You've sent him to die. You know that don't you? If Voldemort has taken Lucius again... if Draco's with him now... he knows, Harry... he knows. I... I told him when he was here, when he was James. He knows about you two being... friends."

"But Blaise, I... we--"

"It's worse," Blaise interrupted Harry. "He knows... Draco and I... he... he and I... Damn it, Potter! I told him not to go near you! You had a fanatical enchantment over him and it's spelled his ruin." Without reason, Blaise grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt. "You... Do you even care? Could you possibly rub to neurons in that tiny little brain of yours and put one and one together? And if you could, would you even give a damn, Potter? You heartless bastard! He never... he never had a chance and now... now he never will." Blaise's eyes turned to fire, suddenly hating Harry, but they also bore in their depths an unfathomable sadness. He shoved Harry hard against the door and left.

"A chance for what, Blaise?" yelled Gabriella. Just before disappearing down toward the dungeons, Blaise paused and looked back at his fellow Slytherin.

"He never had the chance, Gabriella," he called back, a tear slipping down the side of his face. "Not even with his own parents." Blaise shook his head, wiped his face roughly with his palm and disappeared.

Harry took Gabriella's hand with one of his own, rubbing his freshly bruised shoulder with the other.

"What's he babbling on about?" Harry asked. "One minute he's fine, the next he's a raving lunatic." Gabriella squeezed his hand and looked at Harry. Her own face was melancholy. There was a burst of laughter as the castle doors opened and a group of Ravenclaws made their way in, reciting the scene playing outside on the castle grounds. Gabriella's face remained stoic, a mirroring of the queenly image he had seen in Terntalag.

"Love, Harry. He's talking about love."