Disclaimer: not mine.
Many special thanks to whotellsyourstory for betareading this and being the most patient and wonderful beta in the world! Thank you so much!
QLFC, R8, Tornadoes Chaser 2.
Optional prompts:
(creature) centaur
(word) lace
(song) 'Everytime We Touch' by Cascada (which I used to describe the bond between Hogwarts and the last of the Centaurs)
Voldemort!wins AU. What happens to Hogwarts?
It may be AU also for other reasons, but I'm not sure.
Last Centaur's p.o.v., first-person p.o.v.
No romance.
Ever since he won the war, he's wanted to prove that nothing has changed, that everything is as it used to be. It's why he's allowed Hogwarts to survive, the Forbidden Forest to grow, the sun to rise.
In truth, his command wasn't necessary. A comparison with the past wouldn't be possible anyway; there's no memory of it anymore, because he's ensured it disappeared... And his word is, of course, law.
Only I, critical and unnoticed spectator, am able to still distinguish between good and bad, before and after, servant and free person. Not that freedom exists any longer; it's but a word, hollow and meaningless. For decades, it's been ignored. For decades, it's not been missed; after all, how can you miss something you don't even know?
I look down at the dagger I'm holding.
Freedom is not the only thing we've lost. The grass is pale, fading. The trees look like they'd rather be anywhere else but here. The stars, too, have been disappearing, suffocated by the constant presence of the Dark Mark in the sky. One by one, they let themselves die just as one by one, I lost my fellow Centaurs.
Now, when I look up, I see only one star: my own. It's as alone as I am, and there is nothing better to describe solitude than a single, lonely star trying to overcome the darkness that wraps up the world.
I wonder whether that happy past was but a dream. I fear Time itself deceives me, feeding me false visions of a past I have no hope to restore.
I shiver and forcefully stamp my hoof on the ground to shake my nostalgia away.
From afar, an echo reaches me and I recognize it at once, even though it's not mine: Hogwarts students. They're marching, their hearts—reduced to mere muscles where feelings have no right to reside—pumping the purest of blood into trained muscles. They move forward in a line, swift and unstoppable. Glassy eyes look ahead without deviating. For just a moment, they're allowed—ordered—to cast their gaze elsewhere, and it is to homage the portraits of Lord Voldemort the Immortal and Lord Slytherin the Great. One hundred and fifty heads bow as one, then. One hundred and fifty chins meet as many silver and green ties. They are the only colors permitted nowadays, and a lot of spells have been modified because of this. The Cruciatus Curse itself has become a silver flash, for red has been banished. I believe it's even forbidden to bleed, lest there would be waste of the liquid which is so precious and pure. The last non-magical human died many years ago, after all.
.o00o.
Hogwarts, ancient Home of Knowledge, alive you are, but heavy chains you are enduring. You have become a prison where you yourself are being held captive. You are, unwillingly, the best and most powerful weapon that Voldemort has. Through you, he easily manipulates society by brainwashing the youngest generation.
You've stubbornly kept fighting instead of denying yourself and forfeiting your magic. To whose profit? What are you waiting for?
I foresee only ruin in your future, but you don't accept it and still try to keep your empty walls from collapsing.
You protect your students, but who will care for you?
They march; won't you notice it? With every step, you creak but say nothing. You never complain. Yet I still hear your voice. I feel it in my dreams, and it calls out to me. We may not speak the same language, but pain speaks a common tongue.
No longer are you filled with pranks, jokes, blossoming love, whispered secrets, joyful meetings... No one is allowed to speak. Almost all the portraits have been taken down, the Houses forgotten. Silence and discipline reign.
You're said to be wise. You're said to have protections.
I grow angry because it's clearly not true.
Does a masked hero hide in you? I highly doubt it; you're shielding only puppets.
It was your magic that got us here. Are you satisfied? The Founders gave you that gift. Some gift! It's a curse, a lie. Where are they now? Why do you remain silent?
You're said to know what to do, but you don't, do you? You just lie there, hoping someone will come, and, in the meantime, you can do nothing but use your energy to heal yourself, lick your wounds.
There's a crack right there, did you know?
My blade is ready to enter me, but your resigned silence tugs at my heartstrings. I throw the dagger away.
I'll stay for you for we are bound as one, but do not ask me to hope. I won't.
Liar is the whisper haunting me, all the more so because it's right, and we both know it, for the bond Hogwarts and I share runs deeply, more deeply than anyone else would assume.
.o00o.
The last light, the brightest of them all, will come to reunite two lost souls. Neither of them can live if the halves aren't reunited in one. Out of love, the last star will gift all his brightness to preserve the legacy of what is enslaved. A protector will rise, Love's lace will sparkle, and Time itself will reveal its secrets when the last light shines.
This prophecy is two thousand years old and has never been fulfilled.
There's no doubt about it. It refers to me and the castle. We share the same light because at birth, I was gifted with the same star the Founders themselves had chosen to protect their newborn School.
When our lights merged, it entwined our fates.
Now, it's only Hogwarts, the star and I, while darkness rules everywhere else. This means that the time has come to rise up and say goodbye. As I cast my gaze up at the night sky, I realize I can't deny my fate any longer. My star is faintly twinkling, and I pray it's not too late, that its light will be enough.
The cracks on Hogwarts' walls have been increasing in size and number, casting sinister shadows whenever the sun reaches them; I hate it.
As it is written, so it'll be.
I'll approach the castle when night falls.
.o00o.
A sleeping enchantment must have put everyone to sleep, and I'm aimlessly wandering around the castle, but Hogwarts is seemingly leading me; its cracks form a path for me to follow.
Detailed carvings of serpents adorn the doors, and in front of the Great Halls, an intimidating statue of a basilisk seems ready to kill me.
I brush the walls to prevent myself from stumbling in the dark and to seek some reassurance. As I touch them, I feel magic, I feel power, and I feel my heart beat faster because of the killing rush and fear.
Staircases, halls, passageways... They all unfold endlessly until I don't know where I am anymore, but I find myself wishing this could last for a long time as the castle encircles me like a pair of gentle arms. The sky seems closer and lighter all of a sudden.
I keep walking until the cracks stop in front of an odd tapestry—I wonder why it's still here—which silently opens to reveal a big room where dozens of statues and portraits sleep.
Hogwarts saved them all. What an army they would do!
Something urges me onwards again, and I walk towards the silver mug which just appeared out of nowhere and is now fluctuating in front of me, summoning me. Its power surrounds me and keeps me close to it.
It's carved with the words, 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' This is the root of that help, but now that the castle itself needs it, the goblet is half empty.
I wonder what could fill it and, unexpectedly, a soft laughter reach my ears. It comes from the vessel. If it's true that joy filled it, there is no hope the mug will be full again.
I bow my head, defeated. I know I should ask for help in order to get it, but I know as well that no one can answer now.
I've been right all along. It's too late.
Before I have a chance to move past that thought, my vision goes white from a sudden flash of blinding light. I blink to protect my eyes from it while stomping my hoof and flicking my tail, upset. Where does it come from?
The goblet is shining and sparkling as if to communicate with me.
The prophecy, a mysterious voice—did the vessel just speak?—supplies. Of course!
Joy and laughter may fill the goblet, but light and love are where its true energy come from. It needs light, my light.
I'm not willing to give up anymore. I can't let you go like that; I need you just as you need me. We'll sort this out side by side. The problem is... I don't know what to do.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and another follows as desperation clenches my heart. Someone help me, please.
The light is becoming shinier, but no matter how hard it tries, no matter how blinding it is, it can't reach for the sky, it can't wipe the darkness away.
I take a step behind as I feel the castle shake, demanding its freedom, telling me its real story.
Thousands and thousands of years ago, they came from far away, from beyond the sky, but they got lost and were unable to leave. Everyone may have forgotten, but the humans are not the master of the Earth, and the Earth itself is but a colony. Now it's time to go home. Help me, please. If I collapse before some light is shared, I will be trapped here.
How am I supposed to help when Hogwarts' past is going to be my future, a future which I won't probably be allowed to witness?
A wave of pain crashes down on me and I whine before rushing out of the room, an idea taking shape in my mind. This is the Room of Requirement, after all.
When I enter it again, laughter and giggles are resonating from the portraits, the loud noise causing the rock that the castle is made of to break, but this is the only plan I could come up with. It will work, it must, for both my life and the life of the castle are at stake now.
Walls vibrate, and something hits me, but I don't bother to run. It hurts, though... so much. I look down.
Red.
Red liquid.
It seems to flood the room and the whole castle, but my eyes must be playing a trick on me.
The sun sets red, too.
Stay awake. And run, run for your life. The voice is urgent, even worried.
I feel numb. I don't want to move, to think. It's tiring. And it hurts.
"Forgive me my weakness," I whisper, "but something's breaking inside me, and without you, it's just too hard to survive."
My star is falling, and I lift my arms up to catch it, but a bright light blinds me.
.o00o.
Colors are the first thing I notice when I wake up: blue, green, yellow, red... They are all around me.
Merry voices and laughs resonate in my ears, refreshing my spirit.
I take a deep breath in, and my nose is suddenly filled with the familiar and, oh, so loved scent of wet grass and moss flowers, just like my soul is filled with peace.
I look around. As I spot the other Centaurs, I'm blessed with two visions.
-0-0-
Thud.
A boy has just stumbled upon... a castle? Hogwarts! It's back to its former glory.
"Prongs! I wasn't aware that you and Tonks shared her clumsiness. I know she's my cousin and Remus' wife, but you have nothing to do with her," Sirius teases.
"There has never been a castle here," James complains, rubbing his bruised forehead.
"This is not just any old castle, you know," a voice calls out from above.
Poking out of a window, two pleased red-heads are smirking at them.
"I guess this answers our question of who's smarter, us or the Marauders, don't you think so, Gred?"
Then, the twins high-five each other and Hogwarts' walls and burst into laughter, not caring about the three angry Marauders threating revenge.
-0-0-
"My fair friends, I seem to see Hogwarts."
"You speak rightly, Lady Helga. It is indeed our beloved School in front of us," Rowena says, pleased that their efforts to protect the castle and allow it to apparate to this in-between Space have worked.
"Merlin's beard!" Godric's eyes are filled with anticipation. "That means that I can wield my sword again. I've felt incomplete without my faithful iron companion. Where is that Hat? I demand it gives me back what is mine at once."
"Good luck, my Lord!"
The Ladies laughed as he ran towards the castle.
.o00o.
The prophecy is fulfilled.
Hogwarts is safe, I am safe.
I let my sister drag me into the forest, where the dew makes the green leaves sparkle in the broad sunlight.
.
The end.
A/N As you see, this story may have turned out somewhat AU, but I hope you enjoyed it. :)
I guess what you're thinking: Britain is but a very little part of the world. Yes, you may be right, but to the Centaur and to Hogwarts, it was their whole world. Moreover, Voldemort, being immortal, may have had time to conquer the whole planet. In this story, decades have passed. Who knows?
Let me know your thoughts! :)
