Advice From A Centaur

Firenze drew a deep breath as he as he mounted the final steps. Only rarely did he make the arduous climb to the top of the East Tower, but on evenings like this one the trek was almost required. One of the few pleasures in his new life among the humans was watching the sun set behind the forest he had once called home. The brilliant red and purple hues filling the sky never failed to suffuse his being with a serenity so easily lost when surround by the hustle and bustle of humans.

As he emerged onto the rooftop, his eyes, already drinking in the sky's beauty, fell upon the silhouette of someone sitting near the edge of the tower. Firenze could not have been more surprised if Bane had come up to the castle to personally beg for Firenze's return to the forest. He had never encountered anyone else at the top of the tower and was unsure how to react.

He was turning to leave when he noticed that the silhouetted figure had long red hair, so like his own, and a broomstick next to her on the stones. He changed his mind and approached her, his hoofsteps apparently lost among her thoughts.

"Ginevra."

She started at the sound of his voice and nearly fell off the tower. When she turned to face him, Firenze could see the trails her tears had left on her cheeks. He took a step back, uncertain. "I'm sorry - I will leave you to your thoughts."

"No!"

Firenze turned back, still hesitant.

"No, really, you-you don't have to go." She clambered to her feet and wiped hastily at her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. "I-I should probably head down to the Great Hall for dinner anyway." Firenze watched silently as she gathered up her broom and made for the door. When she reached it, she paused and turned back. "Um, Professor? Why…don't you ever eat with the rest of the school?" When he didn't answer right away, she mistook his silence for reluctance.

"Er, I'm sorry, Professor. That was a rather personal question…"

He nodded, appreciating her self-effacing forthrightness. "It was. I simply prefer to take my meals in my classroom, alone. And when not in class, such formalities are unnecessary; 'Firenze' will suffice."

She grinned nervously. "That'll take some getting used to, Prof-er, Firenze. You can call me Ginny if you like."

He felt it would be unfair of him to refuse, and wished to make her feel more at ease. "That, too, will take some getting used to, Ginny." Her grin widened to a shy smile, and he knew he had been successful.

They stood side-by-side for a moment, admiring the sunset, until Ginny cleared her throat. "Firenze? If you don't mind my asking…why do you want to eat alone?"

He glanced down at her, marveling at her innocence, then returned his gaze to the forest below. "Not everyone in the school is as welcoming of my presence here as you are, Ginny."

She frowned. "I don't see why. You seem nice."

"Thank you. But let me attempt to explain…" He cast about, trying to think of a way to explain humanity's inherent suspicions to her, when his eyes fell upon Hagrid's cabin, its windows glowing merrily in the deepening night. "Ah. Yes. Ginny, your friend, Hagrid."

"What about him?"

"He has told me of his experiences last year, and the year before. He was mistrusted as soon as it was known he was a half-giant. Do you understand? Humans-most humans-don't trust creatures that are not like themselves. They trust them even less when they are different, yet the same. Hagrid looked like a human, which scared the humans all the more. As for myself, I hold no illusions about how I appear to your kind. I look like a monster. But even more frightening-I don't act like one. I am just as intelligent as any human. This…scares them. More than any ogre or grindylow. That is why I wish to dine alone; I prefer to avoid the prejudices of the staff and fears of the students."

Firenze wished suddenly he hadn't answered her. The look of pain and sorrow in her eyes on his behalf as she looked up at him was overwhelming. "Ginny-I did not mean to cause you distress-"

"Oh, no, no…I've just…never thought about that…about you…that way."

"Then you are wise beyond your years, if you see a being for what he is and not what he appears to be."

She blushed at his comment and stared resolutely at the darkening horizon. Above them, the first stars of the night glimmered into existence. "You must be…very lonely."

Firenze glanced up at the stars, then back towards the forest.

"Yes," he said simply.

Ginny sighed. "I know how you feel."

Firenze doubted it, but thought it would be rude to share this.

"I'm the only daughter in a family of six sons. I was the last one to come to Hogwarts. That year, between Ron and me coming here, was the worst year of my life. Mum tried, she really tried, but still…I didn't really have anyone to talk to, or play with, and even before Ron and the twins left, I was just their little sister. I wasn't really one of them." Firenze reconsidered; perhaps she did understand. She sighed again and lifted her face to study the stars. A single tear trickled down her cheek. "Even now, five years later, I'm not really one of them."

Something occurred to him. "Ginny, if you do not mind my asking…why were you crying when I first arrived?"

She blushed again and looked away. "Oh, I'm sure you don't want to listen to a student whinging about her personal life."

"Ginny…if I am not your professor outside of class, you are not my student," he reminded her. She still looked unconvinced, so he added, "It would be my honor to return your favor of listening to me 'whinge about my personal life'."

Ginny smiled softly. "All right. But do you mind if I sit down? I'm a little tired."

"Of course." Firenze knelt down as well, the smoothly rounded stones of the tower still warm against his body. Ginny sat cross-legged, with her broom across her lap. Firenze wondered briefly how it would feel to sit like that.

She drew a deep breath and exhaled. He waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts. "I…don't really know how to begin…" she said tentatively, glancing up at him. Still he waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready.

"I…suppose it's just that I still feel like the little sister. To Harry, and Ron, and even Hermione, I'm just the little girl who tags along and tries to be all grown up. I'm fifteen years old! I went with them to the Department of Mysteries last year! But nothing seems to matter to Harry. I'm still just Ron's idiot little sister…" She looked up at him with tears shining in her eyes. "Why can't I mean as much to him as Ron and Hermione do? I know he thinks I don't feel anything for him anymore…and that when I did, it was just a schoolgirl crush. I went out with other boys to try and forget him. But they all realized that when we were holding hands, I was imagining someone else's hand; when we kissed, I was kissing someone else. They know who it is, even though I don't tell them. Why doesn't he know?" She buried her face in her hands and began to cry openly. Not knowing what else to do, Firenze reached over and patted her on the shoulder in what he hoped was a consoling way as he took a moment to consider her words.

"Perhaps you should tell him."

She looked up at him fearfully, tears staining her cheeks again. "Wh-What?"

"Perhaps you should tell him that your feelings are not those of an idle schoolgirl crush. He would have no reason to believe otherwise, or even that you still have these feelings for him."

"I guess that's true…but how would I tell him?" Here she giggled anxiously. "Just…walk up to him and say, 'Harry Potter, I love you'?"

"If you like," he said, not understanding the subtle complexities of human mating rituals.

"I don't know if I can do that…"

"You would know better than I how best to approach such a conversation. Regardless, it would help you to share these feelings with him. Even centaurs know it isn't healthy to keep things like that inside you for too long."

Ginny sighed in a resigned sort of way. "I suppose you're right." Glancing up at the clear night sky, she said, "Well, dinner's probably over by now. I guess I'll stop by the kitchens on the way back to Gryffindor Tower…maybe I could corner him there." She stood up awkwardly, holding her broom. "Would you like something from the kitchens?" He rose as well.

"No thank you, Ginevra. I believe I will stay here a while longer."

"Ginny," she corrected, grinning shyly.

"Ginny," he confirmed.

As she made for the staircase that led back down into the castle proper, he remarked, almost to himself, "It is possible he has feelings for you too."

Ginny smiled back at him and disappeared down the stairs.

Firenze looked out across the castle grounds, lit by the light from the castle windows and the stars. He had missed his time of meditation during the sunset, but he could not help feeling as though he had gained something much more worthwhile in its stead.