Master in the Trees

Hermione considered going for help, but the authorities would be useless, since Snape had never been subpoenaed and had broken no laws. Her friends, Ron in particular, still harboured resentment that Dumbledore's Penseived memories had been sufficient to clear him of murder, and Minerva had made it quite clear that she wasn't interested in pulling him away from his new life, if that's what she had the audacity to call it.

The next morning, Hermione was waiting in front of the Hogsmeade butcher shop when it opened. The proprietor gave her a curious look at seeing her a second day in a row but filled her order for a beef shoulder without asking questions. She had not forgotten her raison d'etre- she had a crown roast filled with apple raisin stuffing for the centaurs, but she had to find Professor Snape. She'd brought a cloak for him and some roast beef and Yorkshire pudding -the two dishes that no Englishman can resist- if only she could find him to deliver it. He seemed quite adept at disappearing if he wanted to.

It was much greyer today than the previous day had been, and the wind was so bitterly cold that she broke down and cast a Warming Charm on her cloak and boots. Snowfall was likely, and she hoped that it would hold off until she'd had the opportunity to search for Professor Snape.

She was surprised to find Magorian waiting for her just inside the tree line, and she stammered a greeting.

He held up a hand to stop her. "You will come with me," he said, his dark face giving nothing away.

"I will," she agreed, stepping from her usual path to stand beside him.

They walked in silence, broken only by occasional chirping from flocks of finches that pecked seeds from the dead bushes. Hermione quickly learned that it was to her advantage to walk behind Magorian, who crashed through the underbrush without a second thought. He led her up hills and across lowland streams, deeper into the forest than she had ever been. After walking for nearly an hour, he gestured with his hand.

Below them was a grey valley in which stood a medieval hamlet, comprised of stone buildings whose roofs were constructed from tightly packed bundles of sticks, akin to thatch. Magorian led her to a vast rectangular building that reminded her of a Viking longhouse. When she stepped inside, she was met by a blast of warm, fragrant air, redolent of cedar and herbs.

She stared around her in astonishment. The walls were panelled with inlaid wood, depicting battles, myths, and minutely detailed representations of the night sky. The earth floor was covered with soft moss and smelled of moisture and new growth. Suddenly realizing that Magorian was not waiting for her, she trotted after him to the end of the building, where seven centaurs stood: Burnish, three other females and three males. Magorian joined them and gestured for her to stand before them on a large stone dais.

Hermione kept her eyes down, waiting for them to make the first move. At last, a roan female spoke.

"We believe you have not been honest with us, human." Her brown eyes were narrowed.

"I beg your pardon," said Hermione. "I don't know what you mean."

"I believe you seek to yoke us the way your Hagrid enslaved our cousins."

Hermione stared at her. "Absurd!" she exclaimed.

"What else are we to think, that you come with food for us whilst you ply our cousins with fresh meat, the way Hagrid did?" said Burnish. "Why else if you do not seek to control them or us?"

"The food I bring you and your cousins is intended only as a token of good faith," replied Hermione.

"How can we believe the claims of someone representing the same Ministry whose prior representatives have only insulted us?" This came from a grey-bearded stallion whose skin was as freckled as his hindquarters were dappled.

"You may either believe me, or you may not," said Hermione, with a bit of an edge to her voice. "I should like to think that my previous visits would support my claim rather than lead you to doubt it."

"It is true that you have been most persistent," said Magorian with grim amusement, "but you have still not given me a satisfactory answer as to why it would be to our advantage to work with you."

Hermione took a deep breath. This was it. "We have built our societies apart from one another by choice, and to a large extent it has been successful. But by severing our governances to the extent that we have, we sowed the seeds for the reprehensible actions taken by both humans and centaurs toward one another during the war. As a first step and a further sign that I am in earnest, I would, with your permission, enact legislation granting centaurs 'being' status. I know that centaurs previously refused because it meant being intimately involved with humans, but our government has become much more self-sufficient now. Such an action now would grant centaurs the same protections as humans under Magical Law, such as the right to legal representation and the ability to appeal Wizengamot decisions. Furthermore, it would help us prosecute our own criminals who harass centaurs and protect your forests from human encroachment and invasion by non-native species."

Encouraged by the fact that nobody had interrupted her, she cast her eyes down so as to appear submissive. "I have many other ideas, but I am still woefully ignorant of centaur culture and history. I seek only the opportunity to learn more about you."

"Go learn from the traitor Firenze," said Burnish, baring her teeth.

"I have spoken with Firenze," said Hermione, not wishing to deny it, "but he does not represent the majority of centaurs living in this country. Furthermore, it is not his permission that I seek, it is yours."

"If we forbid you from implementing this change," inquired a chestnut male, "will you leave us in peace?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "If you turn down this opportunity, I will no longer encourage you to accept 'being' status. However, I will not stop seeking your advice, nor will I stop visiting."

Magorian cleared his throat, though it sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. "If there are no more questions, I will return the human to the part of the forest she knows."

Hermione bowed her head. "Thank you all very much for giving me the opportunity to speak with you. Please accept this gift of thanks." She pulled the crown roast from her pocket and enlarged it, tinfoil pan looking quite out of place on the stone dais.

As Magorian led her to the door, she was delighted to hear delighted lip-smacking behind her. At least someone in the Forbidden Forest was going to have a hot supper this evening!

The trip back to her usual path seemed to pass much more quickly, and Hermione couldn't help but hum I Saw Three Ships in time with her steps. Magorian looked back at her. "I suppose you feel you've done well."

"I'm pleased to have been granted an audience," she replied, "and I'm pleased not to have been shot for my impertinence."

This brought a deep chuckle from Magorian. "You have been talking to Firenze."

Hermione was startled by such levity from the normally taciturn centaur.

"Burnish once shot Firenze when he sought her hand one Beltane. She only grazed him, but it succeeded in cooling his ardour for a few days, at least."

Hermione goggled. "Firenze and Burnish?"

"It was many years ago," said Magorian with a sad smile. "Tell me, how is Firenze?"

Hermione shrugged. "Successful. Wealthy. Impeccably mannered and dressed. Popular with girls of every species."

"Has he found a mate?"

"He went on a date with a girl I went to school with, but it was nothing serious. Other than that, I don't think so." Hermione looked thoughtfully at her companion. "I hope you'll forgive my asking, but are centaurs monogamous?"

"It depends on the herd," replied Magorian. "Some herds have a head male with many females. Some have a head female with many males. Our herd is perhaps overly influenced by close proximity of a human school, so we tend toward monogamy and do not lack for passion."

Hermione bit back a giggle at the stern centaur's claim of passion, and nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you."

The trees were starting to look familiar, and soon Hermione found herself standing in the Thestrals' clearing.

"Human, a word of advice," said Magorian, voice grave. "It would give greater sway to your arguments if you ceased feeding our cousins in this way."

She met his eyes. "I can't yet."

Magorian frowned. "You do have plans for them."

"Not for them," she said quickly, "for one under their protection. He is a man, or what's left of one, and it is imperative that he return with me, and very soon."

Magorian's face settled into impassivity. "Is he a criminal?"

"No, just the opposite. We need him to speak the truth against criminals."

"Is that why you pursue us so doggedly? To secure our help in returning this man to the human world?"

"Of course not, the Thestrals only showed him to me yesterday."

"They showed him to you?"

"Yes. He was curled up under a mare's wings, eating raw meat. When I spoke to him, he fled to the trees."

"It is his custom," agreed Magorian.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You know him?"

"Do you think any man could hide in our forest without our herd knowing?" asked Magorian sharply. "Our cousins have tended him in their way, and we have been content to let them. However, if they have tried to return him to you and he has refused, then it is time to intervene."

Before Hermione could blink, Magorian had drawn his bow and fired an arrow into the trees far overhead. There was a cry, a sound of snapping branches, and a black shape hurtled toward the ground.

Hermione's wand was in her hand in a flash. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The spell arrested his plummet, but blood welled from the arrow wound in his thigh and fell with a soft patter on the frozen leaves. She spread her cloak on the ground and laid him gently upon it. His face was scratched from having come in contact with so many branches on the way down, and he was unconscious.

Magorian came up behind her. "The arrow has no head on it and may be extracted relatively painlessly. He will most certainly live. See that he does not return to the forest unless he is as resistant to good sense as you are."

Hermione severed the arrow a few inches from where it had entered his thigh, transfigured her scarf into a heavy bandage, and twisted it on the broken end of the arrow to make a makeshift tourniquet, which slowed the bleeding significantly. Hermione gave silent thanks that her parents had insisted on her being a Girl Guide.

Several Thestrals had landed around them, nuzzling the fallen man. One flattened his ears and whinnied angrily at Magorian, who whickered deferentially. Hermione was surprised to see that none of them touched the blood that had fallen.

"Magorian, I'd like to give them what I brought today. After this, I will no longer bring them food."

"Then do so," said Magorian. "You may come to us tomorrow. We will have made a decision on your proposal by then."

The centaur turned to leave, but Hermione stopped him. "I brought this to tempt him from the trees, but I thought you might like it." She pressed the warm platter of roast beef and pudding into his hands.

"It is not necessary," said Magorian, whose firm grip on the dish belied his nonchalant words.

"No," said Hermione. "It's not. But I am grateful for your help. I'll take him back to the castle now to see to his wounds."

"I do not care if you leave him to freeze," said Magorian. "However, my cousins might view it differently. Goodbye, human."

"Goodbye, Magorian. I'll see you tomorrow."

Magorian galloped off into the forest, and Hermione turned to the Thestrals, who were still clustered around Professor Snape. She threaded through them, cast a warming charm on the cloak, and wrapped it firmly around him. One of the Thestrals snorted at her, ears back.

"Shooting him wasn't my idea," she protested. "I simply want to take him to where he's needed."

Something warm and velvet-soft pressed into her, and she turned to find her Thestral friend lipping her bare hand. She'd forgotten to put her mittens back on after tending to Professor Snape. She ran her hand along his neck in the warmth beneath his mane, and it suddenly occurred to her that to please the centaurs, she could no longer seek out the Thestrals for her own pleasure. On an impulse, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry I won't be able to see you any more. I suppose this is goodbye."

Her Thestral made a low sound deep in his chest, and Hermione felt her sorrow at the loss melt into a feeling of resolution and pride in her accomplishments with the centaurs. She gazed at the Thestral, wide-eyed. He whickered, which sounded like chuckling to her ears.

"Thank you," she said, stroking his muzzle. In response, he nudged the pocket in which Hermione kept the beef she'd shrunk.

Laughing, she removed the beef shoulder from her pocket and Enlarged it. Even the Thestral who had admonished Magorian joined in the feast.

She raised her wand to Professor Snape. "Mobilicorpus."

The first flakes of snow began to fall from the sky as she entered the front gates of Hogwarts, her former teacher bobbing limply behind her.