Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition:
Position: Beater 1 for the Holyhead Harpies
Prompts:
Write from the perspective of a centaur.
4 (poem) "The Peace of Wild Things"
5 (quote) "Not all who wander are lost." ~ J.R.R. Tolkien
10 (setting) lake
Word Count: 1,151
Thanks to my wonderful betas, Mel and Lizzie.
The three sections are supposed to be in different tenses, just to be clear!
Past
Firenze watched each new student walk through the door to his home and classroom. Some looked at him in fear, others in curiosity, while some were too busy admiring the forest around them to pay him much attention.
Lavender Brown fell into none of these categories. She stared right back at him, never averting her gaze like the others did. She looked excited at the prospect of being taught by him. At the last second, before he looked away, she smiled at him—a smile with a warmth he hadn't experienced since he'd left his mother over two decades ago.
He watched the girl, her face free of worry or burden. He envied her a little—she was so unaware of her future. He'd seen glimpses of each student in the stars. Tales of fortune awaited the boy with the red hair, while one who was almost chosen was soon to find his courage. Of course, Harry Potter was there, whose future had been told and retold by Firenze's kind for decades.
He'd glimpsed all of the students here in the stars, but back in the forest he hadn't paid them much attention. When he had read Lavender in the stars, he had seen her as the sun, brimming with hopes and ambitions. Looking at her now, he saw the moon—ruled by dreams, her moods, and the past. This meant she was subject to laziness and whimsy, which made for a poor student, though he found he was not too disheartened by this. He had always preferred those who were ruled by their hearts rather than their heads.
Once his introduction was done and the students began to read the stars, Firenze made his rounds, giving tips and pointers to those who were struggling. Lavender was the last student he reached.
"So, what do you see?"
Lavender looked at him nervously before giving her answer. "My stars are moving into the path of Venus. Does that mean I'm going to fall in love?"
"I'd say that's a reasonable assumption for your near future." Firenze looked back up at the stars, resisting the urge to sigh. Her stars, like too many in this room, were intertwined with the path of Saturn—the star of death.
He knew a war was coming. An involvement with death did not mean death itself, and it was certain that all these children would encounter death when the second rising came. He looked back at the girl. She was giggling with her friend about who the boy in her future might be. No, she would not die.
He wondered why he cared so much about this girl. It could have been her likeness to the moon, or it could have been that their stars were connected. But the thing that had caught his attention most was that she alone had smiled at him, and, for the first time in weeks, he'd felt accepted.
Present
He sits by the still water, the sound of the waves on the shore soothing his racing mind. His sixth years had been thrilled by their shortened lesson. There had been too many voices in the classroom, too many intelligent thoughts, and he'd needed to get out.
It was easy to escape when he lived in the forest, but here on the grounds he finds it more difficult. He likes to come and sit by the Great Lake, in the presence of the wild creatures. He looks up to the star-free skies, and, for a while, he can escape from the burden of the future.
But he cannot forget the shift in the skies he just witnessed. A tiny, minute shift which changes the destiny of hundreds of people—sending most of them straight into the path of Saturn. He cannot tell how soon their fates will catch up with them, but he makes a guess that it will align with the approaching war.
He used to debate with Bane and Ronan about the timing, place, and length of the war. The stars are always open to interpretation, and he had enjoyed the hours they spent discussing the future.
But it's different now. He lies awake in fear of the lives of his students, some of them children he had come to care for like foals, such as Lavender. She is still his favourite, and he still looks forward to his lessons with her. He tries not to get to close, worried she will think he has a romantic interest in her.
He still doesn't know what it is about her, but he thinks it must be her optimism.
He comes from a place where optimism is thin on the ground. While the herd could often be found laughing in each other's company, centaurs never seem to have much cause to be genuinely happy. Even when something good happens, Mars is never far behind with tales of future doom. It's hard to be optimistic when he can predict the death of his friends, his parents, his children.
He used to remind himself that not all those who wander are lost; not all who brush death pass through the veil. But it seems that Lavender's path is now set in stone. He comes to the lake to escape Lavender's happiness, afraid that it will break him to watch her make plans for the life she will never have.
He knows Lavender is worried about her relationship. She sees her stars leaving Venus, and sometimes he notices her cry as she records her predictions. But she sits with Pavarti, who provides Lavender with comfort. Together they make plans for romance, and they wait anxiously for the stars to align.
He is thankful she can't see any further; that only he can look further into her future. Not that there is much further to see.
Future
At first, he won't see her through the flames and flashes. His vision will be blurred, and he will want to close his eyes and rest. But they will have told him not to—if he closes them he will sleep and never wake up.
From his position in the great hall, Firenze will be able to watch the battle. He will want to help, knowing he is one of the strongest there. But his strength will be seeping out of him as blood pours out of his flank.
It will be as he is straining to keep his eyes open that he sees her. She will be lying in the rubble, her eyes staring at him like the first time he saw her. He will pray to gods he does not believe in that she has just fallen, but she won't be blinking. The light will have left her eyes.
Of course, he will have known this was coming. He always knows what is coming. But he could never have known that it would feel like this.