Hopefully you'll like this chapter. there was a little dialogue similar to the book, but that's mostly gone due to changes in the timeline.
The events at the end of this chapter make it longer than the others, but they were also planned to occur next chapter. So in any case, I hope you enjoy! We're near the end.
Hopefully it won't be a disappointment. And also coming up is the bit StridersGirl89 inspired.

In the corner of Hagrid's Hut, huddled under the invisibility cloak, Harry and Ron watched. The giant poured a cup of what was supposed to be tea, acting as if simply living his normal life, despite the newcomers.

Lucius Malfoy had arrived first; just ahead of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, and Albus Dumbledore. The blonde, Draco's father, had almost pounded the door in through force of his fist.

"Things've gone far enough," Fudge said after a moment, wincing under a glare from Lucius, "Ministry's got to act."

"I never," Hagrid looked, almost begging, at the headmaster, "Sir, you tell him, I never-"

"Stop this whining at once!" Lucius snapped, sparks unconsciously flicking from his wand; "My son has been kidnapped. I refuse to stand by and let this oaf pervert the course of justice."

"Yet again Lucius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," Dumbledore slowly shook his head

"Taking?" Hagrid cut in, "Take me where?"

"The only fit place for criminals such as you," Lucius was just steps from baring his teeth

"Not…not Azkaban," the giant stuttered

"Again, I must say there is no reason for this," Dumbledore was not speaking with anger. The best emotion to describe his tone was one of shame.

"Excuse me headmaster," Fudge spoke, "But was Hagrid not the student previously expelled, when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened?"

Dumbledore slowly, reluctantly nodded.

"And were the attacks not halted?"

Again, the headmaster reluctantly nodded. Hagrid stared despairingly.

"Then I see no reason not to proceed," Fudge nodded sharply, "I have with me the full support of-"

"Justice must be served," Lucius interrupted again.

Harry and Ron shared a look beneath the cloak, surprised by the vehemence in the tone of Draco's father.

"Now, now Lucius," Dumbledore briefly closed his eyes, "You must know this serves no purpose."

"No purpose?" came the spluttered response: "My son has been stolen from under your pitiful noses. I demand someone be punished!" Lucius was shouting

"Lucius," Dumbledore said again, surprisingly good-natured, "I believe-"

"Albus," a quiet fury simmered behind the blonde's voice, "I think you will find your words no longer have any meaning here."

The blaze in Malfoy's eyes mimicked the fire in Dumbledore's. Keeping that burning gaze on the headmaster, he withdrew a long scroll, taking great, mocking pleasure in the action.

"I have here an Order of Suspension: the governors feel it is time for you to step aside. You'll find all twelve-"

"Just one minute," Hagrid interjected with the force of a blow, "You can't take Dumbledore! If you do that, they'll- they'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself Hagrid," Dumbledore's voice was more mild-mannered than either Harry or Ron would have believed, even knowing how calm the headmaster normally acted, "If the governors wish my removal, I will of course step aside-"

"Ahem, Albus," Cornelius Fudge surprisingly spoke up, timid in comparison to the others, "I assure you, there is no need for-"

"There is," Lucius insisted with a shout before, as an afterthought, adding: "Minister."

In some ways, the Minister of Magic was quite unimpressive, especially when compared to the other people there: Hagrid's huge frame held violent bravery, Lucius was strengthened by his rage, and Dumbledore seemed to draw upon a silent, inner courage.

It was immediately visible to the two watching students. And yet, somehow Lucius held all the power in the room, commanding even Dumbledore and the Minister.

"The governors, in the end, have the greatest say in who runs Hogwarts," Lucius' tone was close to calm now, with the threat of anger erupting lurking just below the surface. "If they wish Albus to step aside, well then, he must step aside."

Framed by pale hair, Lucius glared with undisguised venom at Dumbledore.

Hagrid sagged.

"If the governors wish it, I shall of course comply," somehow, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "But let me say this. I am not so easily taken from Hogwarts. I shall only truly have left this school when there are none here who are loyal to me. You will also find, help will always be given to those who ask for it."

"I'm sure," Lucius gave a mocking sneer. He grabbed Dumbledore by the sleeve of his robe, and gave a savage tug.

"Justice," the blonde hissed.

With his chosen victim, the target of his blame, Lucius Malfoy took the headmaster of Hogwarts away from the imperilled castle.

With that, only four more were in the cabin. Harry and Ron beneath the invisibility cloak, and Fudge, a little nervous beside the huge Hagrid.

A small trail of spiders wandered along the side of the hut.

The huge giant looked at them for a moment, before looking up in the general direction of Harry and Ron: "Oh, an' if anyone wanted to find out about some stuff, all they'd have to do would be to follow the spiders. That'll lead `em right." Hagrid nodded.

Fudge looked at him, somewhere between confused and worried. Then the Minister hurried the giant out of his own hut.

"That's all I'm saying," Hagrid muttered, before creasing his brow: "Oh, and someone's gonna have to feed Fang."

The black dog perked up at the mention of his name; he gave a low, melancholy howl as Hagrid was lead away.

And with that, anyone to look into the hut would see it empty. Minutes passed.

Ron flung the cloak off, sighing. "Bloody mental, this is."

O

It had been several weeks since the flare of light from the Forest.

Not once had it left the Doctor's thoughts. He instinctively felt as if he were missing something, but what, he could not recall. It was something obvious, right in front of his eyes…

The Time Lord was sitting in Dumbledore's normal chair. No one came up to this office now: it had scarcely been an hour, and yet news of the headmaster's departure had spread. Throw a stone into a pond, and see the ripples…

Amy was in the Hospital Wing, with all the other petrified victims. There were still one or two attacks a week, but somehow they'd calmed down. Especially since the flare. As if appeased.

If it could be said, the Doctor missed Dumbledore. In his long life, the Time Lord had known much sorrow. It dizzied him looking back: in 'recent' days, he'd lost so many. Rory once, the Master even, Adelaide Brooke, Donna, the nameless woman on Midnight, River, Jenny, Joan Redfern, Astrid, Reinette and Rose. Their faces and names echoed in his mind, among so many others.

Going back further, he'd lost his species, lost Susan, Adric…

He didn't want to think about it any more.

He felt close to Dumbledore: enough so that the headmaster deserved a place on that list. Along with the petrified Amy.

They'd gone too far.

Whoever 'they' were.

For all his resistance however, the Doctor knew it would eventually prove futile. Dumbledore would die in just four years' time.

Unstoppable.

"But not yet," the Doctor muttered to himself, standing up with those words.

The speech, the very idea filled him with energy. Not yet. Not just yet.

He stepped out, ready to leave the room, hand unconsciously flailing at empty air. He frowned, pausing a moment to remember why he performed that action.

I find myself unable to find one of my possessions.

Dumbledore's words echoed in his head. Of course!

Harry had said Lellorian was planning to steal something: and he was definitely being honest, according to Dumbledore. Maybe the centaur had received it; hence the loss. And maybe that also explained the rocket, and the hand…

The hand was the right size. And the rocket…

Flashes of the frozen future he'd seen rushed back to the Doctor.

"No…" the word escaped his startled lips.

"Doctor?" Rory stepped out of the TARDIS, blinking, only just having woken up

"I think I've figured it out," the Time Lord didn't turn, appalled.

Rory blinked; "What?" he spoke, urgent

"The Deluminator," the Doctor said after a moment. "It's not here, but it was always here, just there," his hand gestured aimlessly, "Dumbledore said he lost it, and then a rocket flew up, quite possibly with a hand the perfect size to flick it."

"A rocket and a Deluminator?" Rory queried

"Exactly," the Doctor closed his eyes for the moment. "Remember the future we saw? Cold and dark. No moon. No Sun."

A pause.

"Oh my god…" Rory's voice trailed off.

"Exactly," the Doctor said again, "Whoever this is, they're turning off the Sun."

O

Harry and Ron had followed the spiders. And then, quite quickly, they had come to regret it; especially now, standing beneath the quivering mandibles of Aragog. The huge ruler of the swarm.

"Creatures wander abound in our Forest," the low whisper of the great spider sounded around the webbed hollow, "Friends of Hagrid may you be, but you are meat. My children starve, especially with the interference of the abomination."

"Abomination?" Harry asked, curious.

It seemed only the Boy Who Lived was able to speak: Ron was simply squeaking, afraid of the spiders.

"You still seek answers?" Aragog hissed, "We speak of that which killed our mortal foe, and resides even now in the guise of a forest dweller. Three such beings in the Forest."

"Forest dweller?" Harry frowned, casting his mind back.

He'd come into the Forest for a little time, a detention, in his First year. He'd met one species then, of 'forest dwellers'. Centaurs.

"You mean Lellorian?" Harry murmured.

Ron frowned, partly incredulous, partly lost, by Harry's use of the name.

"We know not what humans know him as," Aragog spoke, "Only that he does not belong."

"But-"

"Enough!" the spider boomed, "I have giving you more answers than you deserve."

That was true, Harry had to admit. They knew of the student who died the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, died in a bathroom. And they knew it was not Hagrid's fault.

"Ok, well," Harry stuttered, "We'll just be going."

"I think not!" the Aragog boomed, "I have said: be you friends of Hagrid or not, you are fresh meat. I cannot deny my children that."

Harry backed away, tense, gripping his wand and moving closer to Ron as the eight legged creatures around them swarmed. Ducking beneath webs, and striking them aside, the creatures closed in.

Harry shouted a curse, a flash of light shooting from his wand; one of the many spiders fell back. Still more grey bodies scuttled forwards, some coming as high as Harry's waist, less than a metre away. Still, the black haired boy shouted magic, in a vain hope of repelling the creatures.

Suddenly, the noise of a car revving broke the scampering rustle of the clearing.

The spiders froze for a split second; even Harry did, forgetting to shoot any more hexes.

Two white lights shone over the clearing. And then, with another rev, the source of the lights descended into the clearing, as noisily as it possible could.

The spiders scuttled back a little way, mostly out of shock from seeing such a thing in the Forest. It was bright blue; the colour came into focus as it neared. And it was…

"Harry!" Ron gasped, finding his voice again now the spiders had distanced themselves, "It's dad's car!"

So it was; the flying car they'd taken to Hogwarts, which had fled from them. It had been in the Forest all this time, growing wilder, outer metal dented, and several windows smashed.

The car's doors opened automatically. If it were able, the students had no doubt it would be gesturing for them to get in. Understandably hurried, Ron and Harry did so, Ron getting in the driving seat even though he kept his distance from the wheel.

Harry shouted another curse out the window, repelling a spider with one more flash.

Then, rapidly, the car shot away, weaving through trees, whipping branches, through the Forest. It never stopped for several minutes; intent on outrunning the swarm. Occasionally, Harry was forced to unleash a curse, pushing another eight-legged being away.

Still, after several minutes, the car had escaped.

It slowed gradually, in an area neither Ron nor Harry had seen before. It was a patch of the forest built by artificial means, and not the normal, chaotic thicket housing unknown wonders and fears they'd come to expect from the rest of the Forest.

Tentatively, they stepped out of the vehicle, footsteps clinking on the metal floor. They looked around, at what appeared to be three beds, a podium… It was almost a dwelling place, surviving only on the barest essentials.

"Ha!" the noise was like a war cry. A violent shout of exertion; followed by the noises of hooves, and the painful sound of crushed metal and glass.

The students turned, to see the face of Lellorian, contorted with fury, galloping straight over the car, hands outstretched. Lethal nails reached out.

"Everte Statum!" Harry shouted, resignedly watching the spell easily dissipate over Lellorian's wild frame.

The centaur looked from side to side for a moment, at both Harry and Ron. His upper body somehow seemed uncared for, ignored; the gash that ran down from his shoulder was unhealed from weeks before, and if anything, it had become worse, gradually tearing down until it passed his ribs. It was bound together by a crude gum of vines and leaves.

"I have been too patient with you, boy!" Lellorian rumbled, slowly stepping towards Harry. "It is time I rectify that error."

Harry shouted another curse, the one he'd used on the spiders; it struck the centaur, and yet the light simply sputtered out.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, aimlessly, worried, crying out the word.

Two curses were flung at Lellorian; both useless, fading away. The centaur burst into a gallop, quickly closing the tiny distance between he and Harry, nails gouging forwards, scraping for the boy's neck.

"Potter!" the voice was shouted across the clearing.

It was a male one; it bore a certain sense of maturity, thoughtfulness, respectability, and kindness. And yet there was also the unavoidable undertone on the Forest: the untameable, distinctly present.

Another centaur crashed into Lellorian, pushing the wounded creature away. Lellorian looked up and snarled at the newcomer.

Unbridled savagery followed; blows struck with hands and hooves, snarls, bites, charges, centaur ramming centaur, hooves stamping on hooves, arms locked. The wildness of the Forest personified for those few seconds-

And then the newcomer recoiled for a few seconds, recoiling from a sharp blow. And then, lightning fast, gaining one lucky sideways blow against Lellorian; his hand gripped the chest of the centaur. With an aggressive wrench, the new centaur pulled away.

The flesh was ripped from Lellorian's torso.

No blood came out; no gore or bone or muscle visible. Just green, leathery skin. Below the outer flesh.

With a shout, the newcomer again charged towards Lellorian: the false centaur. Hands reached forwards, ignoring Lellorian's yowls, the close combatants again pulling apart; the newcomer held a grip on Lellorian's hair.

Pulling once more, the face came off the creature, so that the centaur's lower body, that of the horse, was there, perfect. But above that, green flesh resided; topped by a rounded green head, with round, black eyes. Eyelids blinked sideways along those great orbs.

"I dislike this," the newcomer spoke solely to themselves, before delivering one powerful blow against the green, alien head.

Lellorian crumpled to the floor, centaur body mangled and torn like the suit it was used as; and the green alien underneath was still, head at an unnatural angle, from the real centaur's blow.

"Do not fear," he again turned, now to face Harry and Ron,

The black haired boy gave a small gasp, noticing a few familiar features: "Firenze?"

"Yes," the centaur bowed his head; identifying himself as the creature Harry encountered in his First Year, in the Forest, "This creature has wandered for too long. The centaurs were in unrest, and I chose to help."

A few seconds ticked past, the students looked up at the friendly features of Firenze; features twisted ever so slightly from guilt and pain. As if he'd received every blow dealt to Lellorian. Such regret: his words were true. He disliked the need to harm.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron let the words fall from his lips in a sudden gush.

"A stranger to the Forest," Firenze nodded, bowing his head slightly to the student, "We have scented three. One resides in the Forest, though they have departed, and one is elsewhere. It was just he," Firenze gestured to the still alien, "who remained. He stole the skin and wore it as his own."