Violar's lashes fluttered. She groaned, feeling as if she were six feet underwater. She was warm, and comfortable, and she didn't want to move…

She snuggled deeper into something soft – a thick blanket.

Blanket?

Violar opened her eyes and stirred – and instantly regretted it. A headache pounded her brain. Every inch of her massive centaur body was sore. She felt like she'd been through a war.

Then she remembered. She had been through a war. Pushing herself painfully onto one elbow, Violar drew a deep breath into her aching lungs and looked around.

Bookshelves lined the walls of a hexagonal room. But the books populating the shelves were the strangest ones Violar had ever seen: A few of them were undulating. She could've sworn that one or two moaned. She made out the titles of the ones closest to her. World's Worst Dark Wizards, Advanced Wards and Security Charms, and Powerful Counters to Powerful Curses, which actually changed colors from black to white like a leather-bound chameleon. Watching them only made Violar's headache worse.

She groaned again, then became aware of a tingle in her Danger Sense. Her gaze snapped to the doorway. A short, stocky teenaged boy with a mop of curly black hair stood there with a friendly smile.

"Um, hey there." The boy gave her a brief wave.

"Who are you?" Violar studied him warily, not trusting her newly-awakened Danger Sense. Blindly she felt for her twin swords and found them next to her resting place on the floor. "Where am I?"

"Don't worry, you're okay." The boy put up both hands in a calming gesture. "My name's Jared Diaz. My aunt and uncle brought you to our house in Millers Falls."

Violar's brow furrowed as she gathered her swords close. Aunt and uncle?

The fuzziness in her brain lifted, taking the headache with it. Hadn't Rosa or Jimmy mentioned a Jared? "Cesario and Adelaide Infante? They are your aunt and uncle?"

"Yeah, they Apparated all you guys here. I was visiting my girlfriend and her folks when my dad Flooed and said I needed to come home. Family emergency, he said. Then he told me what happened." A huge smile formed on his face. "Man, I still can't believe it. Death Eaters, Dementors and werewolves, and you guys kicked their asses. Wicked pissah! I wish I could have been there."

Violar gazed dolefully at Jared, hardly sharing his enthusiasm. "You didn't miss anything," she murmured quietly, too worn out to take issue with his crude language. "We were forced to fight, and we won. That's that." Suddenly she pricked her pointed ears. "Where's Julian?"

"Whoa, whoa, relax. You're talkin' about the kid, right?"

Violar straightened her forelegs and lurched to her hooves, switching her white tail. The blanket fell away from her palomino hide. "Yes. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's here. That blue guy's looking after him in my brother's old bedroom."

Violar breathed a sigh of relief – both for herself and for Julian. She felt safer with Kurt Wagner nearby, although she had to admit that she didn't feel threatened by Jared.

"Are they all right?" she asked, buckling her weapons belt around her waist.

"Yeah, the kid's fine." Jared nodded. "Mom gave him some Blood Replenishment Potion and put a healing paste on his leg before Nurse Gillwick came over."

Violar didn't understand half of what Jared said, but she latched onto the strange name. "Who?"

"Nurse Gillwick. She's the nurse at my school. She healed the kid's leg up good. And the blue guy? When Mom heard he got attacked by Dementors, she gave him a bag of Chocolate Sparkle Mints. Man, did he wolf those things down."

The worried wrinkles in Violar's brow smoothed away, and her silvery eyes softened with the beginnings of a little smile. Then she fixed a steady gaze on Jared. "Please, good sir, take me to him. I want to see Julian."

Jared's face scrunched up and he silently mouthed, "Good sir," as though shocked by her antiquated language. A hesitant look formed on his face. "Um, are you sure? That werewolf messed you up pretty good, and Nurse Gillwick wanted you to stay off your feet for—"

"I have to see Julian," Violar pleaded, clasping her hands. "He almost died." She swallowed hard. "You don't know how much he means to me. He's like . . . a little brother. He's my responsibility, and I can't let anything happen to him." She took a firm step in Jared's direction. "Please."

Jared shifted his weight from one leg to the other and chewed on his lower lip. "Um, okay. But if my Mom or Nurse Gillwick ask, you tell 'em I tried to stop you."

The softest smile touched Violar's lips, and she regarded Jared with amused admiration. She rested a hand casually the hilt of one sword for comedic effect.

"And a valiant effort it was," she assured him, pointing one hoof forward and offering a stiff little bow. "But in the end, it is always wise to grant the requests of a centaur, particularly one so armed and dangerous as I am." Violar flashed a dazzling smile at Jared, and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Jared's head bobbed back and forth for a few moments. "Yeah, that'll work."

Violar chuckled. "Good."

As they exited the enchanted library, Violar leaned her upper body slightly to the left, then to the right. She grimaced. The battle had made her sore all over, and the aftereffects of a werewolf's poisoned bite left her feeling heavy and sluggish – as if she'd recently recovered from a fever. But she could tell her health had improved dramatically, and that she required only rest before she felt back to normal.

"What did your healer do to me?" she wondered presently.

Jared shrugged. "I'm not one hundred percent sure. I don't know much about magical healing beyond the basics. Probably some combination of potions, pastes and spells. I know Dad was saying that Nurse Gillwick had to do a lot of different things for you than she would a human. Still, looks like whatever she did worked."

It unsettled Violar – a centaur and a healer – to be left in the dark about the exact methods that had been used to cure her. Nevertheless, she thought as she trailed after Jared, she didn't sense anything amiss. Jared seemed straightforward – perhaps too straightforward – and playful, but also trustworthy.

"You're right," she answered belatedly. "You're right, of course. And I'm… I'm very grateful. If you please, when next you see your Nurse Gillwick, would you be kind enough to pass along my thanks to her?"

"Yeah, no prob."

They moved into a narrower wood-paneled hallway, and Violar's claustrophobia instantly flared. She backed away and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. How she hated tight spaces!

There was only one thing to do, and Violar did it without thinking. She touched her sapphire choker and immediately shifted into a shorter humanoid girl.

"Whoa, wicked pissah!" Jared gaped at her. "How did you do that?"

Startled, Violar froze with her hand protectively covering the sapphire at her throat. Then, slowly, she gave an odd smile.

"Forgive my frankness, Master Jared, but I find it strange that you who know about werewolves and Dementors and other magical creatures would be surprised into such a crude outburst by anything."

"Are you serious? I don't know of any centaurs who'd deliberately transfigure themselves into a human. Most of 'em barely even tolerate humans. Unless you're a human who wants to be a centaur, which might be kinda cool."

That surprised and sobered Violar. Apparently, the centaurs' elitist attitude wasn't confined to Narnia.

"I was born a centaur, Jared," she explained. "But I was given this sapphire choker from Aslan, the Lord of… of the land I come from." She pulled the choker from her burgundy collar to reveal the magnificent blue jewel for a moment, then dropped it again. "It allows me to appear as a human girl. For all intents and purposes, I am – in truth – a mutant. I think. I don't really know what I am anymore." She swept a hand through her hair, frowning at the floor. "To be both human and centaur at once… who is to say what I am? All I know is that I am the creature Aslan made me to be. Perhaps that is enough."

She glanced up from the floor, and she noticed Jared checking her out in the same way Jimmy had when she'd first met him in the college parking lot. Her cheeks burned, and she abruptly lowered her head as a rush of hurt swept through her. Immediately Violar became aware of her dirty burgundy blouse and torn brown skirt. Dried blood spattered her outfit, and her dark hair was tangled and unkempt. She'd been through a battle, and she knew she looked it.

Violar also remembered Jared's words from earlier. He had a girlfriend.

She ventured a sad, wary glance at Jared, and she didn't smile as she turned her back on him and continued down the hallway, guided by her Danger Sense.

She felt Kurt Wagner first. She'd been around the blue mutant enough to identify his presence in her Danger Sense, and she hurried forward – right past a photograph on the wall depicting a round woman in a white wedding gown and a bald, muscular man in black robes. As Violar watched in astonishment, the two people in the photograph turned to each other, smiled, and shared a kiss.

Violar stopped in the middle of the hallway. She'd never seen anything like it. Abruptly she glanced back at Jared in bewilderment. "How…?"

"How what?"

Violar turned to him, gaping for a second. "How is this possible?" She nodded to the photograph.

Jared just stared the image of the married couple, who kissed again. "Um, all wizarding photographs are like that."

"But what makes them that way?"

Jared shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. That's . . . that's just the way they are."

"I see," Violar breathed, gazing at the moving photo in wonder. Only when she'd observed the couple – Jared's parents, she assumed - go through the same motions seven or eight times did she finally step back, shaking her head with a bemused smile. She glanced at Jared with a carefully respectful nod. "Shall we continue?"

"Okay."

Violar stopped in the doorway of a bedroom. Kurt perched on a chair near a bed, in the middle of an animated story that made his yellow eyes gleam and his tail thrash. Sitting up in the bed, Julian was laughing.

"Then, when she wasn't looking," Kurt was saying, lifting his clawed hands for effect, "I slithered out of the closet. All was dark and shadows as I crept towards her sofa, where she was quietly reading a book. Now, you know how jumpy Kitty can be, ja?" Julian nodded eagerly. Kurt's yellow eyes gleamed with delight. "I rose slowly and peered over the sofa, and for a long time she didn't see me. Then she caught a glimpse of me over her book, and…"

"And what?" cried Julian.

Kurt folded his arms across his chest, well pleased with himself. "She screamed."

Julian crowed with laughter. "Loud enough to wake the dead?"

"Ja. Louder. Then she phased through the couch and fell, screaming, though all the floors of the mansion."

Julian fell back into his pillows and laughed his head off.

"It was no laughing matter when she came back up," Kurt went on, in between his own chuckles. "She chased me around with a feather pillow and threatened to tie my tail in a knot. I barely escaped with my life and tail intact."

Julian squealed as if Kurt had tickled him.

Leaning calmly against the doorway, Violar observed the scene with a warm heart and a soft smile. Laughter from Julian and her shadowed blue friend healed her battle-torn soul faster than any potion, any salve – any magic.

"What's this? Giving the child bad ideas in my absence, Kurt Wagner?"

Kurt started so suddenly that he nearly fell off the chair, and it was Violar's turn to laugh as Kurt lashed his tail around the back of the chair and righted himself with lightning speed. Even Jared chuckled at the sight. Coming forward, Violar wrapped her arms around Kurt's neck in a gentle hug, which he returned.

"Ja," he answered her belatedly. "I hope you do not mind. Julian will make an excellent prankster one day."

"Yeah, I'm his apprentice," chimed in Julian.

Violar closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Kurt's thick indigo curls for a long moment. His spicy brimstone scent was warm and familiar, and it soothed her further. Then she turned to Julian with a smile and reached over to clasp his hand.

"You are a clever boy, Julian," she replied with soft sincerity. "You will make him proud, I'm quite sure. As for everyone else in the mansion, we're in trouble."

Julian grinned, pleased and mischievous at once. "Do I get to paint you with frosting, like a zebra?"

Violar's eyes flashed silver, and she shot a glance at Kurt, who grinned sheepishly back at her. "I recognize that concept," Violar remarked in a warning tone, glaring playfully at Kurt even as she spoke to Julian, "and I know where the idea originated. If the unlucky fellow who planted that wicked thought in your innocent young head doesn't talk you out of it, his tail will be in jeopardy."

Julian giggled. Violar grinned at Kurt, her eyes sparkling and spoiling her threat. Kurt chuckled and scratched the tip of one pointed ear with his claw.

"Ah, ja, I see how it is," he said, smiling back at Violar. "Julian, my young friend, cancel Operation Zebra. But have no fear. I am hardly short of good ideas."

Violar laughed wholeheartedly and wrapped her arms around Kurt's neck again. Being the target of a Nightcrawler prank was an honor, and the prospect made her giddy – and not just because she loved surprises. Kurt was a true genius – an artist at pranks and practical jokes.

She drew back again and gazed at him with shining gray eyes. "You look better," she observed.

Kurt's tail spade slid up to press the back of her hand. "Ja, liebling. All better. As is my young apprentice." He leaned around Violar to grin at Julian.

"Yeah!" supplemented the boy, sitting up again. "And Nurse Gillwick is a really nice lady, and she said that if I was real good, she'd give me all the ice cream I could eat. So I was good, and she fixed my leg with her magic wand – just like the fairy godmother in Cinderella, yick." He wrinkled his nose. "I only watch Cinderella 'cause I like the mice. They're funny. Then she gave me the yummiest ice cream I ever had. It was, like, a whole bunch of different flavors all at the same time. And I ate a whole lot of it and I didn't get a tummyache."

Violar stared at Julian with wide eyes, amused. "Really?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yup! It even had gummy bears on it 'cause I asked for some, but they were normal gummy bear flavors – not like the ice cream. And there was chocolate sauce on top. Nurse Gillwick didn't answer me when I asked if I could eat more ice cream for breakfast. I think the answer was gonna be no, but she didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"Man," Jared muttered. "How come she's not like that back at Salem?"

Kurt and Violar laughed.

"She did such a good job on my leg – wanna see? Here, lookit." Julian kicked off his covers.

Violar sat down on the edge of the bed and gently rolled back the hem of Julian's pantleg. There was no bandage, Violar was startled to find. The wound was completely healed, save for a long scar running down his shin.

"Unfortunately," Kurt said, "the nurse told us that because poor Julian was struck by dark magic, he will have a permanent scar on his leg."

Violar made a sympathetic noise in her throat and gave Julian a pitying look.

"But . . ." Kurt ruffled Julian's hair with his claws. "I told him that scars are a sign of character."

Violar gazed at Kurt with a world of affection in her eyes.

Trust Kurt to say just the right thing to the boy, she thought. She studied the multitude of scars coiling over Kurt's cheek and running across his forehead, and she silently agreed. With Kurt Wagner, at least, scars truly were a sign of character.

"Yeah, and besides," Jared chimed in from the doorway. "When you get older, you'll find that the ladies really dig scars." He waggled his eyebrows and beamed at Julian.

Violar tilted her head back and glanced at Jared in annoyance. "They do not," she contended with a wry little smile. "And don't give him any ideas. He'll have trouble enough, in time."

Violar stared hard at Jared, willing him not to argue. She hadn't said as much to anyone, but Julian's dark looks, shining brown eyes and bright smile had already captivated several young girls at Xavier's – one, in particular, who tended to be on the rebellious side: Jenna Newton. Already Violar had to beat Jenna off with a stick, and Jenna and Julian were merely young teenagers. The problem would only get worse with time. The last thing she needed was for Julian to become aware of his handsome charm, or she'd have twice as much trouble on her hands.

Narrowing her eyes at Jared, Violar realized that this young man was no stranger to trouble with women.

Suddenly Violar remembered. "Jimmy! Rosa!" She shot to her feet, her pleading gaze on Jared. "Are they all right?"

"Yeah, they're both fine," Jared replied. "We got Jimmy the antidote for the Fire Rash Curse just in time. He's sacked out in my room. Rosa's taking it easy on the couch downstairs."

Violar felt weak with relief. She rubbed her hand over her forehead – an outward expression of her exhaustion – and glanced at Julian. The boy wouldn't have been lying there now, smiling and laughing, if not for Jimmy O'Bannon's bravery and self-sacrifice. Violar bit her lip, and her heart twisted up as she mentally kicked herself for not asking after Jimmy sooner.

"Please, Jared, will you take me to him?" implored Violar.

"Um, yeah, sure. Follow me."

Violar squeezed Julian's hand, then hugged Kurt once more, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Be good." She released him, smiled, and exited the room behind Jared.

Farther down the hallway, Violar glimpsed a portrait of a stern-looking woman with a wrinkled face and gray hair piled into a bun. The woman's eyes, then head, followed Violar.

Shocked, Violar whirled to face the painting as it spoke.

"Is this another new girlfriend, Jared?"

Startled and instantly uneasy by the implication, Violar opened her mouth to answer – and lost her voice. How did one properly address a portrait?

Jared groaned. "No, Great-Aunt Tempestra. She's just a guest."

Violar drew a shaky breath, staring at the portrait with wide eyes."By the mane. That . . . that painting spoke."

"Yeah." Jared just kept walking. "Lucky friggin' me."

"Mind your tone, young man!" Great-Aunt Tempestra hollered. "And don't roll your eyes at me! Merlin's beard, we never would have tolerated behavior like this from children in my day. If you were my son, I'd cast a Whipping Spell on your backside."

Violar's courage trembled. She tried again to speak, but she didn't know what to say to a portrait – particularly one with so fierce a disposition. Finally, Violar gathered her skirt and dropped into an awkward curtsey, mumbled "Good morning," then whirled and hastened after Jared.

"Hmm. At least someone around here knows proper manners."

Violar didn't dare answer.

Catching up with Jared, Violar glanced over her shoulder and shuddered. "Of all the… the things I have seen upon leaving Narnia," she whispered, as if afraid the painting would overhear her, "that was – by far – the most unbelievable."

"Unbelievable? I'll tell you what's unbelievable. All my years living here, Great-Aunt Tempestra's always on my case about something. My brother Esteban, however, she heaped praise on him every time he walked by." Jared shook his head and muttered, "Crazy old bat."

Violar opened her mouth to reprimand him for casually insulting a family member, then burst into startled laughter. The family member in question was a painting, for Aslan's sake, and Jared had just called it a "Crazy old bat."

Before Violar could reconcile what she'd just encountered, they arrived at another bedroom and walked inside the open doorway. A poster on the wall caught Violar's attention first. It depicted men and women flying around on brooms, and red words that sparkled like rubies read, "Boston Bandits."

After making sure that no one in the picture was alive enough to talk with her, Violar tore her attention away from the poster and found Jimmy O'Bannon sleeping in the bed.

Swallowing hard, Violar quietly approached the bed with Jared beside her. Jimmy's red face looked as if it had been badly sunburnt from overexposure to the Calormene sun. Remembering Rosa's warning about how a Fire Rash Curse could burn a person's skin to cinder within half an hour, Violar drew a shaky breath and felt her vision blur with unshed tears. All the excruciating pain he'd endured on behalf of Julian Rodriguez hadn't been in vain, and thank Aslan for that. But Jimmy could have died an agonizing death.

And Violar would have never had the chance to apologize to him.

Jimmy drew a deeper breath and stirred, then slowly opened his eyes.

"Violar?" Jimmy said groggily. "Wha . . . What happened? Where . . ." He blinked a few times. "Jared?" He looked around, wincing and scratching his arms. "Is this your room? What am I doing here?"

"Aunt Adelaide and Uncle Cesario brought you here. You got nailed good with a Fire Rash Curse, but you're all healed up now. Well, Nurse Gillwick said you'll probably be scratching yourself for the next two days, but better that than having your skin all burned off."

"You got that right," Jimmy said.

"Other than that . . ." Jared smiled wide. "I heard you and Rosa kicked some serious ass out there. Way to go, man. Wish I coulda been with you."

The two bumped their fists together. Violar stood very still, and her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar gesture.

"Thanks, man." Jimmy flashed Jared a brief smile. "Is Rosa okay?"

"Yeah, just a nasty knock on the head, not that there's anything important up there anyway."

Violar started at the comment, then wondered why Jared and Jimmy shared a chuckle. Rosa seemed bright enough, in Violar's opinion.

Whatever else Violar might have thought about the exchange was immediately forgotten when Jimmy looked up at her. Violar grew deeply sober. Their eyes locked for a long moment, and they stared at each other in silence. Everything inside of Violar began to crumble, and she clasped her hands, fighting back a surge of tears that boiled just beneath the surface. She struggled to hold Jimmy's gaze, but it was no use. Her own guilt crushed her. She cast her eyes to the floor.

"Hey, Jared." Jimmy looked up at him. "You mind giving us a sec."

Jared's eyes flickered between Jimmy and Violar. "Um, sure. Yell if you need anything."

Jared turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Shortly after his departure, Violar missed Jared's presence. Alone with Jimmy, the tension and the uneasy silence threatened to smother her – if the lump in her throat didn't choke her first. Her gaze remained on the floor.

"I, um…" Violar gestured helplessly in Jimmy's direction. She didn't know what to say, but desperation to say something – anything – drove her onward. "I'm sorry that you're not… feeling well. There's … I have a… I made a salve for burns that might help, but it's back at the… at Xavier's. If you like, I can arrange for Kurt to take me back there, and I can bring it…"

She trailed off. One more word would've sent the tears spilling down her cheeks, and she fought her emotions as long as she could – though she knew that she'd be crying before much longer. She clasped her hands so tightly that her knuckles ached, and she silently prayed that Jimmy would answer – quickly.

It took a bit, but her prayers were eventually answered. "Um, yeah. That, uh . . . that's really nice of you. Thanks."

The knots in Violar's stomach loosened. "You're welcome," she replied softly. "It'd be… an honor." She didn't know what else to say.

"How's the kid doing?" Jimmy asked.

"Julian? He's doing well, thanks to you. Your school nurse, Madam Gillwick, did a magnificent job healing him."

"Thank God." Jimmy leaned back in his pillows, then scratched both arms and his neck. Seconds later, he sighed. "I still can't believe I did that."

Inconspicuously wiping the moisture from her eyes, Violar was only too grateful to pursue whatever course of conversation Jimmy wanted. "Did what?"

Jimmy paused. "Throw myself in front of that curse. Hell, I had no idea what that Death Eater was shooting. And I . . . crap, I coulda been killed."

Violar bit her lip, watching Jimmy shudder and clench his jaw. "You mustn't think on that," she offered gently. "It was a battle. Everything happens so fast… Life and death collide in a matter of seconds, and your decisions are made on instinct."

"You know," Jimmy said. "I've seen all these war movies where some guy takes a bullet for a buddy, and I wonder, would I do something like that? Could I actually give up my life for someone else? And when we were back at the mansion, and that curse came flyin' . . ." He emitted a humorless laugh. "I didn't even think about it. I don't even know that kid and I . . ."

Violar suddenly rushed forward, her gray eyes burning with intense emotion. She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly in her own. Jimmy's eyes widened in surprise. His gaze dropped to Violar's hand covering his.

"Jimmy…" Drawing a shallow breath, Violar shook her head and dropped to her knees beside him. "Don't talk that way. I… you're…" She bit her lip against a sniffle, glanced at the ceiling as though praying for strength, then brought her shiny eyes back to Jimmy. "In such a moment, who you truly are is brought to the surface. War is a test of character. You don't have time to . . . to weigh the consequences of your actions. You simply react. And in those instinctive actions, your heart is revealed." Her voice cracked. "I was mistaken about you," she went on, tears coursing down her cheeks. "If I hadn't already known, then what you did for Julian proved it beyond doubt. Centaurs aren't often wrong, but…" She choked. "I'm sorry…"

Violar buried her face in Jimmy's quilt and sobbed. She tightened her hands into fists, struggling to stay in control.

"Um . . . hey, look." Jimmy's words penetrated her crying. She also felt his other hand gently rest on her back, and she turned her head away.

"It's all right, okay? He continued. "Don't worry about it."

"It is by no means 'all right.'" Violar looked up at him with a firmness that brooked no argument. She wearily brushed away her tears, then glanced around. Finding a chair, she rose and dragged it to Jimmy's bedside, and she sat down with a heavy sigh.

"Not that it excuses my actions," began Violar quietly, clasping her hands and leaning forward, "but in my world, all wielders of magic are evil. They killed my father, and they were indirectly responsible for the death of my brokenhearted mother a month later. I saw many of my friends tortured and killed at their hands." Her eyes darkened with pain. "There was even a winged horse who… in the heat of battle… did what you did for Julian. He leapt in front of a spell and… and he gave his life for mine."

Jimmy just stared at her, mouth agape. She waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

Violar's lip trembled, though she resolutely held herself together. "Regardless of what they did, you didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my resentment towards them. My own bitterness clouded my judgment towards you, and Rosa, and even the mutants whom I consider family. I hurt a lot of people today." She pursed her lips regretfully and lowered her head.

Jimmy scratched his torso and neck, then reached out and grasped her hands. Violar stared at him in bewilderment, but she didn't pull away.

"Um, look. I said something pretty nasty things to you, too. And, well, drawing my wand on you and your friends wasn't the friendliest thing I've ever done."

Violar managed a small smile as Jimmy went on. "I'm sorry, Violar. I'm sorry if anything I said hurt you. It's just . . . well, like you said, it's no excuse, but I tend to be hypersensitive when someone makes a blanket statement about a certain group of people."

Violar's smile faded. "How so?"

"Remember when we were talking about the difference between Muggle-borns and purebloods and all that, and the way some purebloods view Muggle-borns?" Violar nodded. Jimmy snorted, then went on. "Well I've faced my own share of that prejudice."

Everything suddenly made sense. She pursed her lips regretfully.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy," she said quietly. "You, of all people, didn't deserve that kind of scorn from anyone." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He gave her a dismissive wave, then scratched his arms and chest. "Believe me, when some jagoff starts spewing crap about pureblood supremacy, I don't put up with it."

Violar opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She glanced away with a wry smile. "You're not helping," she teased lightly, though her embarrassment was genuine.

"Huh? Oh." He glanced away for a second, perhaps remembering their confrontations from just a few hours prior. "Yeah, sorry."

Violar gently pressed his hand.

After a pause, Jimmy said, "Look, along with all the apologizing, I should probably thank you, too."

"For what?" A bewildered look fell over Violar's face.

"For what?" Jimmy repeated, scratching his neck. "For jumping into the fight when those Death Eaters attacked IHOP. For holding off that werewolf while we all got away. You . . . you probably saved my life, and Rosa's. So thanks."

Violar's eyes widened, then dawned with comprehension. She hadn't even thought of her actions in such a light. It had merely been… instinct.

Her own words about instinct in the midst of battle came back to her, and a surge of tears rushed to the surface. Violar lowered her head, sniffling and brushing one hand over her damp cheeks. Jimmy gripped her other hand in his own and gently ran his thumb over it.

A comforting warmth laced with electricity rippled along Violar's nerves. Her tears smoothed away into a more peaceful calm.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You know," Jimmy said. "One of the things Rosa's parents and Jared's parents told me about the first war against You-Know-Who is that one of his favorite tactics is to turn friends against one another. I don't want that to happen here, Violar. I really want to be friends with you . . . and the other X-Men, because I think the only way we're gonna get through this war is if we all stick together."

Violar looked up at him and studied his face for a long moment, running his words through her mind. Suddenly a flash of pure terror ignited in her silver eyes, and she pulled her hand from Jimmy's grasp as she shot out of her chair.

A perplexed look formed on Jimmy's face. "Violar?"

"Friends," she echoed as if she hadn't heard him, pacing anxiously toward the Boston Bandits poster. She stopped at the wall and pressed her fingers hard into her temples. Every nerve was on edge, and Violar resisted the urge to bolt.

Just as suddenly, Violar turned back toward Jimmy, though she made no move to close the distance between them. "Friends," she repeated carefully, tangling her fingers and forcing herself to breathe. "Friends. I, um… that would be good." She nodded unsteadily, blinking at the floor.

The perplexed expression remained on Jimmy's face. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Violar waved her hand dismissively, but she avoided his gaze and tried not to stammer. "I just… have claustrophobia. It gets aggravated after I spend too much time in an enclosed space. I think I'd better go. I need some air…"

Jimmy said nothing, just stared at her. Violar could tell from his eyes that he had trouble believing her excuse. She drew a shaky breath and managed a smile, fright and sadness still warring for possession of her features. "I'd hoped… that we could be friends. Thank you." Swallowing hard, she moved toward the door. "I'd better go fetch you that salve before you scratch yourself into madness. I hope it helps…"

With one final nod in Jimmy's direction, Violar pulled open the door and made a hasty exit.

"Violar. Violar, wait a sec!"

A whimper escaped the distraught centaur as she gathered her skirts and bolted down the hallway. She ran right past the painting of Great-Aunt Tempestra.

"No running in the house! Where are your manners?"

Violar ignored Great-Aunt Tempestra's shouting as she rounded a corner, and landed in Kurt Wagner's arms.

"Liebling?" uttered the surprised blue mutant, blinking down at her. "Was ist das?"

Shaking all over, Violar buried her face in his chest.

"Get me out of here," came her muffled plea.

BAMF.

Kurt and Violar vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.