Chapter 35

The home of the Centaur Herd was, it turned out, in a large, grassy, field in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. The Forbidden Forest was fifty-five square kilometers or twenty-one square miles in area, around half the size of the Forest of Dean, though it was far less populated, being the home of Magical Beings and Magical Beasts and having no Muggle Population at all. Still, the field that the Centaur Herd used for their own homes covered around two and a half square miles, which was, comparatively speaking, a lot given that the Herd seemed to only number around fifty Centaurs.

The field itself wasn't bare, of course. There were a number of structures made of wood and thatch. Long Halls that appeared vaguely barn-like with tall doorways that could admit the six-and-a-half-foot frame of the tallest Centaurs in the herd. A peek inside showed woven grass mats, bronze tools, and pottery. These seemed to be communal living spaces for the Herd. There were also smaller huts, which seemed to be for crafts, a bronze forge, a leatherworking hut, a pottery hut, and an apothecary with a large cauldron for making potions. In the center of the cluster of barns was a circle of stone menhirs, similar enough in layout to Stonehenge that it made me wonder if the more well-known site had been constructed with the advice of Centaurs.

All told it seemed as if the Centaurs were living in the Bronze Age here in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. With that sort of technological level, and no capacity for magic outside arts such as Alchemy, Enchanting, Ritual Magic, and Astronomy, it was no wonder that the Centaurs had been driven out of the more populous areas the second that mankind mastered iron. Even the Muggles would have stood a chance at driving herds into the fringes like that.

As Harry and I were led by the Centaur who had found us into the center of their small, Bronze Age, settlement, I noticed we were drawing a crowd of Centaurs, many of which were looking at us with curiosity, especially from the Foals. Others had more reserved looks, while yet others had looks of disapproval. One foal, a little girl on wobbly legs who looked like she was the Centaur Equivalent of a four-year-old peeked out of one of the communal living spaces only to be hustled back into the longhouse-barn structure by what was obviously her mother. I gave the foal a grin and wave to which she let out a giggle just in time to be shoved back into the longhouse-barn by her mother, who gave me a scowl. She was clearly one of the more disapproving Centaurs.

"Mate, must you? We're already at their mercy as it is." Questioned Harry.

"I don't want to hear that from you, Mister Boy-Who-Lived." I snorted.

"Ronan! What have you brought to our home? Two Wizarding Foals?" Demanded a Centaur, drawing Harry and My attention back to the present.

That particular Centaur was clean-shaven, unlike the Centaur who had brought us in. Also unlike the Centaur who brought us in, whose hair and beard were Auburn and whose horse coat was Roan, this Centaur's hair was black and his horse coat chestnut, with just the slightest hint of Gray starting to slip in from age. Where the Centaur who had brought us in would a leather spaulder and baldric with an attached quiver of bronze-tipped arrows, this Centaur bore a Bronze-Plated, Leather Tunic and carried a bronze-tipped spear.

"Magorian, these two foals were wandering alone in the Forest. They claimed to have seen a pair of Vampires in the Forest and I thought it best you and the others heard their tale. Where there is more than one Vampire, it is likely there are others as well." Responded the Centaur who had brought us in, apparently named Ronan.

"I see. Bane and Firenze went to speak to the Wizards' Half-Giant. Apparently, a meeting was requested about something in the Forest killing Unicorns. If these two Wizarding Foals speak truth, then it may be that there are dark times ahead for the Herd. I would wait for Bane and Firenze to return before hearing these Wizarding Foals' tales. If I hear sense in their words and in Bane and Firenze's report, then we will need to consult the Stars before deciding what to do next." Intoned the Older Centaur, Magorian.

"And what should I do with these two until Firenze and Bane return?" Queried Ronan.

"Put them in Odhrán's Pottery Hut. There is little there we need fear knowledge of being stolen should these two Wizarding Foals prove less than honorable." Intoned Magorian.

"And who will keep watch?" Asked Ronan.

"It is Odhrán's Hut, let Odhrán do it." Suggested Magorian.

At this, a strawberry-blonde Centaur with a braided beard and a Dun-colored horse coat wearing a simple linen tunic dyed with red ochre trotted forward. He nodded to Harry and I in greeting and then gave a sort of short bow to Magorian.

"If that is the will, Elder Magorian, I shall keep the watch." Offered the Dun-colored Centaur.

"Good. Keep them in your Hut until Ronan comes to fetch them, Odhrán." Nodded Magorian.

"Come along, Wizarding Foals." Insisted the Dun-colored Centaur, Odhrán.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at me, to which I simply shrugged, before following Odhrán to the smaller, one-centaur, hut. Inside were several batches of unworked clay, a pottery wheel that was propped up on a table that was far too high for any human to work, but was just about torso-height on a centaur, and a large, stone, kiln. Lined along the walls were various ceramic pots, cups, and plates that had been made in the hut and were as yet unpainted. Next to the wall, a horsehair and yew brush sat alongside several small pots of natural dyes, blue from woad, orange from umber, red from burnt sienna, madder, and red ochre, yellow from yellow ochre and weld, black from charcoal, and green from Elderberry Leaves.

Harry and I were instructed to have seats on one of the low benches being used as shelves to display Odhrán's pottery while the Centaur in question moved to one of the baskets of unworked clay. I watched in fascination as he threw the lump of clay on the wheel and began to shape it. As I watched, a sort of inverted bell-style pot with a flared rim began to take shape before my eyes. As a craftsman myself, this sort of thing was fascinating to watch. Of course, Harry, being Harry, didn't exactly get my fascination.

"Mate? It's just a pot." Frowned Harry, tapping me on my shoulder.

"Harry, don't insult a Man's craft like that. Some folks take decades to learn to do what he's doing now." I hissed.

"I guess I don't get it." Shrugged Harry.

"Few of your kind do. Wizards tend not to have the patience for such things, and Foals doubly so. I suppose when you have magic that can conjure clay from the very earth, and shape such things as you please, the patience to form a vessel by hand just never develops. Your friend seems to understand, though. At least a little." Cut in Odhrán.

"I'm something of a Craftsman myself, though I'm nowhere near as good as you are at anything, really." I admitted.

"I should imagine not. You are still a foal, after all. Diligence is a quality necessary for such mastery. Should you possess it, you will get there eventually." Snorted Odhrán.

"Practice makes perfect, I guess." Offered Harry.

"Not necessarily. Perfect practice makes perfect." I opined.

"Not another of your sayings. Mate, we're not old enough to have so many of those." Groaned Harry.

"It is a good one. Rooted in logic. I approve." Insisted Odhrán.

"What? You too?" Demanded Harry.

"No, Mate, think about it. If you practice something the wrong way a thousand times, all you learn is how to do that thing wrong." I pressed.

"Indeed." Agreed Odhrán.

"Or you can just be good at something. I never practiced flying a day in my life before getting on that Broom to get Neville's Rememberall back, and now look at me." Shrugged Harry.

"Hey, we can't all be gifted at anything we try right off the bat, Mate. Some folks have to work at it." I retorted.

"Speaking of which, I must now detail my Urn. It is delicate work, so if you two would please keep your conversation to whispers, it will go a long way toward my concentration." Huffed Odhrán.

"Sure thing." I agreed.

Harry and I lapsed into silence after that. I watched as Odhrán grabbed a wooden stylus and began making a series of incisions in the clay. As I watched Odhrán work, bands of zig-zagging hash-marks began to form around the urn. It was interesting decoration, and as I watched the first band begin to circle the middle section of the Urn, I realized they served a purpose for more than just decoration. Those hash marks would also make it easier to grip the Urn, providing a rough surface that would allow for a better hold than smooth kiln-fired, clay. It was something that only a society that couldn't use magic to simply levitate an Urn full of some precious substance would create. I had little doubt that bronze-age muggles used something similar.

Unfortunately, I was only able to see the first band take partial shape before Ronan came to grab Harry and I to meet with the assembled leaders of the Herd. As we were led out of Odhrán's Hut, we were ushered into one of the smaller Longhouse-Barns. Inside, on mats of woven grass, sat Magorian and two other Centaurs I hadn't met before. One was black-haired, with a black beard tangled in knots and a black bay horse coat. He wore no tunic on his human torso, instead his chest and shoulders were daubed in blue whorls of woad paint. The Other had long, white-blonde hair, a Palomino Horse Coat, and wore a Linen Tunic dyed blue and green with Woad and Elderberry Dye.

Ronan took a seat at the empty woven grass mat, sort of folding his horse legs under him, similar to how a horse would lay down in a barn to sleep. It gave the impression that he was kneeling, as did the posture of the others.

"Good, you have arrived. I sent Macdara to the Castle of the Wizards to alert the White Beard that we have his two foals. For now, we would hear their tale." Intoned Magorian.

So I began to speak. I spoke of the Unicorn Blood we found on the forest floor, how Harry and I had gotten separated from Hagrid, how the two Vampires ambushed us, and how we fought them before resorting to combining our spells to make an explosion in order to kill the two. How we headed away from the site of the fighting, just in case any other Vampires the pair might have been working with had seen the plume of fire and decided to come to investigate, and how we had ultimately bumped into Ronan. Harry interjected a few times, either to add commentary or to clarify something, but by the time the story got to our meeting with Ronan, the other Centaurs looked thoughtful.

"And from there, you know the rest." I shrugged.

"Yeah, we came quietly like we were asked. I'm not sure what all the hostility was about, though." Huffed Harry.

"Firenze, did you not say you saw a pillar of flame rising above the treetops while you and Bane went to meet with the Wizards' Half-Giant?" Questioned Magorian.

"I did, though I had no time to investigate between meeting Hagrid and returning to the Herd." Agreed the Palomino Centaur, Firenze.

"That proves nothing. The Wizarding Foals could have set off such a blast for any reason. You know how their sort is." Warned the Black Centaur.

"Bane makes a salient point, but I do not believe that these two are lying. The urgency in Hagrid's manner when speaking of the Unicorns was not false." Insisted Firenze.

"It could also be unrelated." Argued the Black Centaur, Bane.

"Logic dictates that oftentimes the simplest solution is the best." I tried.

"A wizard speaks of logic? And a foal, no less? Now I have heard everything." Snorted Bane.

"That does not make his words incorrect, Bane." Warned Ronan.

"Indeed, though I would like to know how it was that he found the Vampires to begin with. By his own admission, the Foal's magics initially could not strip the cloak of shadows from the two leeches. One moment, they are under assault, and the next, he has found their location. I wish to know how such a thing is possible. Are you a Watis, Boy? Can you see the things that time and others seek to hide?" Queried Magorian.

"A Watis? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the term." I asked.

"A Seer. He asks if you possess Sight beyond the norm." Clarified Firenze.

"Ah, yes. I do have the Sight." I nodded.

"But that is not why you were able to find the leeches, was it?" Pressed Magorian.

"No. I was able to find the Vampires because, in addition to the Sight, I possess a natural gift for the Mind Arts. I was able to pinpoint their location by sensing their emotions. They were able to hide their intent to do harm, but not the glee and malice that accompanied it." I explained.

"He speaks true. We shall consult the stars for portents and decide what to do next afterward." Proclaimed Magorian.

"You believe us just like that?" Questioned Harry.

"I do, do you know why, Child of Destiny?" Queried Magorian.

"No. And what's this about me being a Child of Destiny?" Asked Harry.

"It is because all of my people possess the same Sight as your friend does, though it varies from individual to individual, all of my People possess at least some latent capability. My own gift allows me to sense true from false. Bane's allows him to sense danger before it happens. Firenze's manifests as portentous dreams, and Ronan's allows him to better parse the portents from the Stars." Informed Magorian.

"And what about me being a Child of Destiny?" Reiterated Harry.

"There is an air of Prophecy around you. Anyone attuned to the Sight at all can sense it. You are the subject of a powerful destiny. If you do not know it, I suggest you find out, lest it creep up on you while you are unprepared." Warned Magorian.

"I think I know what it is." Muttered Harry.

"I think every Wizard in Britain knows what your destiny is, Mate." I grinned.

"How, though? You-Know-Who's supposed to be dead, isn't he? My Mum killed him while defending me in some sort of mystic mutual kill. The Power of Love, that's what the Headmaster said to me when I asked him about it." Frowned Harry.

"They never found a Body, Mate. It wouldn't surprise me if he found a way to cheat death at least once." I opined.

"You think so?" Questioned Harry.

"I mean, Necromancy's a field of Magic that goes all the way back to Ancient Egypt. I'd be pretty shocked if nobody found a way to cheat death using it." I pointed out.

"You know that's not exactly making me feel any better, right?" Queried Harry.

"I call it like I see it, Mate." I shrugged.

"Regardless. It matters little to the conversation at hand. As you have told us the truth, and not attempted to steal from us, you will be allowed to return to your Castle unharmed." Intoned Magorian.

"You wouldn't really have done anything, would you?" Asked Harry.

"I don't think you want an answer to that one, Mate." I smirked, nodding over at Bane.

The Black Centaur looked pretty damned disgruntled at the fact that we were going to be let go, after all. Given his objections to our story, I didn't doubt he would've gleefully inflicted whatever punishment Magorian sentenced us to if we tried to play him. Harry took one look at Bane's expression and paled a bit before rallying.

"Right, well. Good thing we didn't try lying, then." He muttered.

"You have no idea how correct you are on that count, My Boy." Came the Aged Voice of Albus Dumbledore from the entrance of the Longhouse-Barn.

"White Beard." Nodded Magorian.

"Albus." Grinned Firenze.

That last bit drew a touch of side-eye from both Bane and Ronan. It was clear that while Ronan didn't mind working with Wizards against issues that affected both the Herd and Hogwarts, he didn't want to be familiar with Wizards. Meanwhile, Bane seemed to only ever deal with Wizards grudgingly. I couldn't accurately gauge Magorian's feelings on Wizards, thanks to him effectively being in Diplomacy Mode the whole time, but it was clear that even if he was in favor of more cooperation, Firenze was still too familiar for his taste.

Idly, I wondered what had happened between Wizards and Centaurs in the past to make such attitudes so prevalent, but decided ultimately that it was likely a case of colonization pushing the Centaurs to the fringes of the land. When things got to be like that, and ancestral lands got taken, grudges could be held for centuries, even when it was between humans. Centaurs, being Non-human Magical Beings, probably had even longer memories. Possibly enough to carry that grudge from the end of the Bronze Age all the way to modern times.

"Now, if you two will follow me, I think we'd best get you boys back to Hogwarts. I think we can call your detention served, yes?" Mused Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

"They slew two Vampires this night, White Beard. Where there are two, there are likely more." Cautioned Magorian.

"I will keep that in mind, Chieftain Magorian. Expect a formal response shortly." Responded Dumbledore.

"So long as that formal response involves keeping my Herd out of any reprisals against Vampires, then so be it." Huffed Magorian.

"Magorian!" Hissed Firenze.

"It is all right, My Friend. I know all too well that memories of betrayal run long. Perhaps too long to be surmountable in a single lifetime. Your Chieftain's wishes will be respected, I assure you." Soothed Dumbledore.

"Good. See to it that they are or you will find out just how thin our patience runs with Wizards after so many betrayals." Threatened Magorian.

"I will take that into consideration. For now, however, I need to return my Students back to their dorm rooms. It is past curfew, after all. Harry, Blaise, if you would?" Nodded Dumbledore.

"Right." I agreed, moving over to Dumbledore's side.

"Yeah, I'm about ready for bed anyway." Added Harry, doing the same.

"Now, you two may feel a slight queasiness, but I assure you, everything will be all right." Offered Dumbledore.

I frowned at that. It sounded an awful lot like he planned to use a side-along apparition with two passengers at once. Don't get me wrong, if anyone in Wizarding Britain could pull that off without splinching anyone, it would be Albus Dumbledore, but it wasn't likely to be a smooth ride even still. My suspicions were correct moments later as I felt the magic take hold and my stomach did a somersault in my torso as we disappeared from the Centaur Village and reappeared in Dumbledore's Office. I barely avoided throwing up all over the floor as I stumbled into place in the office. Harry, unfortunately, couldn't say the same.

"Oh dear. Perhaps you had best sit down, My Boy." Mused Dumbledore, conjuring a stool for Harry to sit on with almost contemptuous ease.

Harry sat down, and moments later, a House Elf wearing a plaid tea towel like a kilt was mopping up the vomit that Harry had just thrown up onto the floor. Three sweeps of a mop later, and the floor was good as new, the Magic of House Elves ensuring that the vomit was gone in moments.

"Thank you, Mackey." Acknowledged Dumbledore.

"Aye, Sir. It's what Mackey's here for." Answered the House Elf in a guttural Scottish Brogue.

Once Harry had caught his breath, Dumbledore sent us both to our dorms. Harry and I parted ways on the Grand Staircase, with him headed to Gryffindor Tower and me taking the Staircase all the way down to the Dungeons, where I immediately headed for my Dorm Room. Everyone else had already returned from the Cross-House Study Group and went to bed. I joined them just as soon as I drank my nightly Bluemoon Grass Elixir. I had six more months of drinking nightly concoctions before I could begin the introductory magics from the Azarinth Healer's Treatise, after all. There was no sense in stopping that and having to start my regimen over just because I was completely done with the day.

Soon enough I was tucked into bed and sawing logs, getting in some training in my dreamscape, as usual. . .

XXXX

Quirinius Quirrel was shaken. That had been a close call tonight. Honestly, he'd gotten greedy. His Master had told him that he could buy himself more time by completely draining Unicorns instead of taking a little blood at a time as he had been doing previously. Unfortunately, he hadn't accounted for the fact that draining a Unicorn to death would only cause that Unicorn to try to throw off the Full Body Bind harder than if he only took a little at a time.

'You should have stunned it instead, you fool.' Hissed the Dark Lord in Quirinius' Mind.

"I managed it in the end, Master, didn't I?" Pleaded Quirinius, quietly.

'Yes, and caused the Unicorn to leave a blood trail that oaf of a Half-Giant could spot in the process!' Snarled His Master, Telepathically.

"But, Master, the Vampires will take the fall for that." Tried Quirinius.

'Yes, and you are lucky their little group moved into the forest when they did! Luck is for incompetents, a servant of mine needs to be beyond such things!' Snarled Quirinius' Master, Mentally.

"I'll do better next time, Master, I promise!" Whimpered Quirinius.

'See that you do. You have bought yourself a stay of execution, temporarily. When will you be making your next attempt on the stone?' Demanded the Dark Lord internally.

"Soon, Master. Next month at the latest." Answered Quirinius.

'When you do, see that your bumbling does not harm you as it did last time. You will not enjoy what I will do to you for failing me in the same way twice.' Warned Quirinius' Master in his head.

"I won't Master, I promise." Vowed Quirinius.

As the Dark Lord's Consciousness faded back into the recesses of Quirinius' Mind, Quirinius sighed in relief. It did not hurt as much as it used to, conversing with his Master, but it still caused some level of pain. However, he now had time to figure out the puzzles that lay ahead of where he had left off the last time. He would use that time wisely so that he would not fail his master again. Quirinius Quirrel did not want to see the fate that such a failure would have in store for him, after all.

Whatever it was, it was sure to be horrid. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next part. Harry now knows he's the subject of a Prophecy thanks to the Centaurs, though he has no idea of the actual wording yet. He still has correctly deduced that it's related to vanquishing Voldemort. Meanwhile, Quirrelmort has bought time to figure out the challenges guarding the Stone by completely draining unicorns to death, though doing so managed to let Hagrid catch on that something was eating the Unicorns. Fortunately, the Vampires that just moved into the Forbidden Forest took the heat for it.

I tried to take a more realistic look at the Centaurs than Rowling managed. In this fic, they're essentially Bronze Age People who began to be pushed off their ancestral lands and deep into the forests by Humans the second that Humanity Mastered Iron. That process was completed when Wizards went from bulky staves to easy-to-use wands, and now most centaur Herds have grudges against Wizards and Humans as a whole because of that. All Centaurs having some level of the Sight is me taking a more Mythological Approach to them as well. Chiron, the most well-known Mythological Centaur, was said to possess the power of foresight in some myths. Combined with their penchant for Astrology, and it seemed a logical step to take.

At any rate, the next chapter will be another time-skippy one until the end of February, at which point, the endgame of First Year will kick off.

Stay tuned. . .