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A Wizards Life with Monster Girls:

Chapter 11

Harry Potter becoming the first man to apparate into Hogwarts, at the ripe young age of seventeen, didn't feel too chuffed at the achievement. If anything, it broke his heart as he appeared with a CRACK on the front steps of the ruined castle. The towers in flames and crumbling, the once lush green lawn, torn up and stained with blood.

And the bodies. They were everywhere.

It was clear that everyone killed was not killed by the hand of magic. Evidence of arrows, broken swords and brutal bludgeoning's were evident on the black robed mass of victims.

A chorus of cracks sounded around him, and his troops arrived at the scene. The Hogwarts wards no longer halting them. It brought tears to his eyes knowing why; wards as old as the schools fed on the ambient magic of those who lived below them. The wards had fallen (after centuries of defending the castle) because all within lay dead.

"Your majesty, shall we search for survivors?" The harsh sound of the goblins tongue met his ears, forcing Harry to wipe his eyes and compose himself,

"You and I both know that would be a wasted venture, Griphook." Harry responded in kind, turning to his second with a steely gaze. The fanged, hooked nose goblin, covered in thick iron armour (that pulsed with defensive magic) bowed his head. The red feathered plume of his helmet drooping as he bowed and Harry sighed, "The wards have fallen, the centaurs are victorious."

A snarl reverberated through his troops as they formed a defensive perimeter and truly took in the devastation that had been left in the centaurs wake,

"To target the undefended children, what cowardly beings." Shieldbreaker snarled, repositioning his jostled helmet atop his head (the company's helmets reminding Harry of Roman centurions, with their large plumes and designs),

"I understand that many wizards do not hold the same survival instincts as you, your majesty." Lord Rainthief began, turning to Harry with questioning eyes, "But why would they not fight back?"

"The High Inquistitor banned the use of wands in school. It was a ploy to stop halfbloods and muggleborns from gaining practical skills in magic that could exceed the purebloods." Harry stated in disgust. Wrinkling his nose at the image of the pink clad woman and what the Dark Lords administration had done to his country, "This is the result."

Harry felt rage and he noticed his troops (a smattering of witches and wizards accompanied by his personal entourage of goblin warriors) grip their weapons and wands tighter,

"Potter! Look here!" came the familiar voice of Croaker, the masked Unspeakable who had accompanied them. Harry walked over to the portly man (the voice was decidedly masculine but the robe gave no indication of race and/or gender and the secretive group were known for vocal modification) in his black cloak with the black featureless mask covering his face, "It looks like they dragged of a few of them."

"It's only been a few hours, Bane and his herd will have only recently gotten back to the village. We may be able to save the survivors." Harry responded, a flick of his wrist and a familiar Firebolt flying broom growing in size and nestling into his hand, "On brooms, that's the only thing that will be fast enough to get us there in time. We find the village, rescue the hostages and kill anyone who stands in our way."
"It's the least we can do as retribution." Griphook snarled as he mimicked his master and a broom appeared in his hands, the other 30 present doing the same and mounting,

"ADVANCE!" Harry cried and the group ascended into the air. Flying away from the desecrated castle and the rising sun, towards the Dark Forest (and the centaurs who found their home in it).

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Centorea struck first. Bursting forth at a blinding speed and being before Harry in less than a second. Sword arcing down towards Harry at a speed that defied human perception. Dull, but wielded with a strength that far surpassed both Miia's and his.

Despite his surprise at her speed and strength, Harry was able to avoid the blow with a modicum of grace, feeling the disturbed air as the sword flew by him and landing a solid foot of distance back. Centorea was surprised but immediately launched a second offensive. Charging forth once again with a flurry of vicious slashes, jabs and lunges to Harry's quickly evading form. The wizard painfully aware that despite the materiel that made the sword, one blow from this woman and the duel was decided. Despite his own physical prowess, Centorea had him hard pressed. He continued to duck, weave, slip and roll aside from each blow of her unending barrage, but he had not been pushed to this point of physical exertion in a long time, and his body was beginning to protest.

'I can't keep this up!' He thought to himself after a particularly close call, the blade nearly cleaving his head from his body (and Harry genuinely believed there was enough force behind her blow that a dull, plastic blade could behead him) and began to think of his options.

Option 1: Kill her. It would not be hard, his wand (as it always was) was in a wand holster attached to his right forearm. A flick of the wrist and it would fly into his hand and he had a million and one ways to end this centaur. But Harry knew she was not an enemy, there was no malice in her narrowed gaze, only self-righteous rage and a cold gaze of resignation that Harry associated with fulfilling a duty. Granted, Harry was not the greatest judge of character, but he found that the decisions and observations he made in these sorts of situations were usually his best. To Harry it was clear that she had been manipulated by Bane, truly believing him as some sort of hater of centaurs who had massacred his herd out of hatred. So, as such, it was morally incorrect to attack her, because she was not really an enemy, just a tool in Bane's manipulations

Option 2: Flee. Not advised. One, because he was not sure how far he could run from the monster that was Centorea the centaur. She likely had far greater stamina than he did and would probably track him down and defeat him when he was weak, or simply clock him as he tried to escape. And two, although he knew he was fast enough to feasibly flee from the battle, Miia was not. Her speed was entirely in her lunge, she was actually not particularly fast when 'running'. Meaning any escape attempt that had any hope of succeeding involved leaving Miia behind, and although Harry did not think Centorea would hurt her, there were millions of people in this city and Miia didn't know how to get home. Any number of things could happen to her, so he had to find a way to deal with Centorea before he could get her home.

Which lead to, option 3, the one option that really banked on one of his weakest points.

Option 3: Talk her down.

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Centorea's arms were aching already and she was painfully suppressing a look of awe and respect at this human. Who was dodging her attacks with the grace of a god. Made especially impressive when considering wizard were notoriously out of shape, due to the sub-species of human having very little need for physical exercise or exertion (courtesy of magic). But that awe became shock and a bit of fear when suddenly his eyes narrowed and instead of dodging and weaving away from her attacks, he hurled himself into them, spinning out of the way of her furious assault with a pace that exceeded her own until they were toe to hoof. Centorea was stunned by a brutal gut punch that blew the wind right out of her, the distraction gave Harry the time he needed to flick out his wand and cast a point-blanc 'Expelliarmus' and send the sword flying into the shrubbery. The force and proximity of the spell, combining with the force of the blow. And, the surprise of losing her weapon completely reversed Centorea's momentum and had her stumbling back onto her knees.

The shock of the brutally efficient assault was lost on none of them. Miia in shock and awe of the display she had just stood witness to. Centorea completely undone over how easy and quick Harry Potter had dispatched of her. And Harry simply stood stupefied that his ridiculous gambit had ACTUALLY worked. The two combatants carefully caught their breath in heavy gasps, staring the other down and awaiting further violence.

Harry's wand full arm rose and fear blossomed in Centorea's sky blue eyes, her arms rose up a boxer's guard in a vain attempt at defence. An attack never came.

Harry, concentrating deeply, pressed his wand to his temple and, after a few seconds of scrunched up concentration (which Miia and Centorea watched in wonder and apprehension), Harry drew a glowing silver strand of… something away from his head. Gravity causing it to hang limply from his wand tip as he sighed in relief. A split second later, Harry conjured a small glass vial and filled with water, adding the memory carefully before corking it and giving it an aggressive shake. The strand dissolved into the water and the solution was a steel grey once he was finished.

"This is a memory. Particularly the memory of the attack on Bane's herd and what actually happened." Harry said, stepping a bit closer with the vial outstretched,

"If you think me foolish enough to drink some odd potion simply because you claim it to be harmless…"

"Bane lied to you." Harry interrupted forcefully, his eyes shadowed by pain, "Indeed, my forces killed his herd, but it was only the warriors."

"So that is better, hmm? To leave the unarmed, untrained civilians unguarded in their own territory?!" Centorea snarled but saw Harry sadly shake his head,

"You really have been fooled, haven't you?" He sighed, stopping his advance and surprising her by taking a seat, cross legged before her. Surprising her further when he placed the vial of potion and his wand at arms-length from him.

"What do you think you know?" Harry asked calmly, looking into her eyes whilst Miia flitted around nervously on the side lines, Centorea glared,

"You slaughtered Bane's herd in cold blood."

"Wrong." Harry declared and Centorea turned red in rage,

"You killed men, women and children in hatred. In hatred of the centaur race and its customs!"

"Wrong again. I lead a force against Bane and the remains of his herd in a rescue mission and to avenge the deaths of nearly three hundred people." Harry said distantly, it was like he wasn't there with them anymore, but somewhere else in the past, "Bane went to war with Acromantula's, a powerful race of giant, venomous spiders that shared territory with them. The herd suffered tremendous losses and the majority fled after the defeat. Except for Bane and his most loyal."

"When he found out that the wizards and witches of Hogwarts no longer had their wands he stormed the castle with his remaining herd and slaughtered everyone inside. Teachers, children even pets. Then they dragged a couple of dozen kids away for 'breeding stock'."

Miia felt sick whilst Centorea was disbelieving.

"I have never heard any of this before!"

"Because you have been lied to." Harry matched her defiant tone with a desperate, yet disappointed tone, "My men and I walked over the corpses of people we knew. I watched Bane pick out a third year to sire his children. I saw them burn a man alive for being human. Bane is an evil being, believing that any action he performs under the light of Mars is justified and that humans are lesser beings. He even kept some females who tried to leave his herd hostage. So that his men could continue the herd and not have the centaurs die out. Whatever he has told you, is undoubtedly not true."

"So, you deny you forced yourself onto the back of a centaur."

"The only time I have ridden on a centaurs back was when it was offered. Firenze, a centaur that Bane kicked out of his herd for liking humans, saved my life and gave me a ride home."

"You deny rudely dismissing centaur divination." She asked, surprised but not showing it,

"I dismiss divination in general. It is not a personal distaste of centaurs reading of the stars, I just don't like divination." Harry said calmly, Centorea gulped but pressed on,

"And you deny the cold-blooded murder of the centaur herd of the Dark Forest?"

"I was responsible for the death of those centaurs. But it was not the entire herd and it was not in cold blood. I assure you, no innocent blood was spilled."

Centorea leaned back and straightened her spine, having subconsciously leaned forward during her interrogation.

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"How can I trust those words?"
"I can give an oath?"

"Harry Potter, if I do not trust your words, an oath stating you have spoken the truth will not suffice."

"A magical oath. An oath that I have spoken the truth with magic as my witness and judge. Should I have lied at all, I will be killed on the spot."

Miia gasped, Centorea's face became quizzical,

"I am aware of magical oaths and promises. Would you perform one?"

"Yes, I would. But I require my wand." Harry said, nodding down at the stick of wood that was closer to her than him,

"Darling!" Miia cried worriedly, scared at the prospect of her beloved being killed,

"Fine, but you will swear to the oath I decree." Centorea stated, reaching forward and carefully grabbing Harry's magic wand,
"Ok."

"Darling! This is dangerous!"
"It's fine Miia." Harry said calmly, turning to smile at her soothingly, "I have told the truth. I'll make this oath and we can head out of here."

Centorea stared down at the wand in her hand for a time, ignoring the lamia (Miia was it?) nervously fidgeting off to the side. She carefully took note of Harry's patient and understanding gaze before she handed it over, apprehensive as he brought it up, but slightly relieved when he levelled it against his heart instead of pointing it at her.

"You shall repeat this oath after me, understood?" Centorea ordered, Harry nodded.

"I Harry James Potter do solemnly swear on my life and magic that the statements I have made are true in their entirety. With no falsehoods, no omissions and no misrepresentation of the truth. Should it be found that these statements are untrue, may my life and soul be forfeit. So I say it, so mote it be."

The three of them were blinded by a vicious white light after Harry had uttered the final syllable. Hanging around him like a shroud as he sat bolt upright, squinting at the nimbus of magical energy and saw it dissipate into the air around them. Satisfied with his truth and thus not turning on him to murder him,

"You were telling the truth, weren't you?" Centorea sighed after a LONG break of silence, being unable to look him in the eyes, instead staring down at the floor,

"Don't be too down on yourself, Bane is a tricky person. He hid his true nature for decades before her revealed himself. Not to be rude, but it is unsurprising that he tricked you."

Centorea wanted to scream at him, because she had never met Bane. The person who had fed her lies were her mother and father, whether knowingly or not. That was something she would have to look into. With a heavy sigh she rose to stand, grabbing the abandoned vial as she stood,

"So… this is your memory of the… occasion?" Centorea asked curiously, staring at the opaque, grey liquid,

"Yeah, every last second of it." Harry confirmed grimly, accepting a hand up from Miia who then held that hand tight and pulled him protectively towards her. Centorea nodded absently in response before bowing deeply to the two of them,

"I apologise profusely for the actions I took against you, after I return this information to my people and ensure that justice is delivered, I will endeavour to rectify this slight I have made against you." She decreed apologetically, bowed deeply at the waist with one hand balled into a fist over her heart,

"It's fine. You don't owe me anything, Centorea-san. You were manipulated, you are not at fault." Harry tried placatingly, but was met with determined blue eyes, red cheeks and perked up ears,

"I attacked an innocent man, Harry Potter. An innocent man who has done much to defend the rights and improve conditions for people like me. I am most certainly at fault for not finding both sides of the story and simply attacking you without remorse." Centorea said, pained but determined (Miia clutched on to Harry tighter for a moment at Centorea's comment regarding remorse), "I chose the easy path over the right one. The path of a berserker over the path of the knight, and I attacked you without honour. For that, I apologise and will endeavour to repay what I owe to you in the near future."

Harry found himself lost at those words, the difference between right and easy had been something he always associated with Dumbledore and it was odd to here such words come from a figure so much younger. But, the entire declaration reminded him of Dobby the house elf, which also made him think that Centorea clearly would not let this go. So, he was going to have to roll with it.

"So be it Centorea. I accept your debt and await its fulfilment." Harry said, bowing slightly in response and Centorea seemed even more determined and remorseful, "And with that, we will take our leave."

And the three parted ways, Miia and Harry turning to return the way they had came, whilst Centorea turned and walked in the opposite direction. The only evidence of the epic clah being the plastic sword lodged in the bushes and the fifty second video present on a young man's cell phone…

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The centaur village was alflame, it's former resident's corpses lay charred on the earthen floor. The fifty-strong force, Harry had quickly assembled, lead the panicked former prisoners from their cages and into the none scorched path they had cleaved through the forest. Headed hurriedly back to the castle. Young women and girls alike being scooped up in twos and threes onto brooms, or the willing backs of a few female centaurs (who just wanted everyone out alive).

Having left his men to their orders, Harry continued his mission. Decked in a swirling black cloak, with his emerald green eyes flashing Avada Kedavra green behind his circular spectacles; he lay waste to the village like a primordial god of death. Plumes of fire scorching hut after hut, followed by bright, putrid spells of viscous shades of red, purple and yellow that never missed their targets.

A yellow blood boiling curse collapsing an archer as he lunged for a new bow.

A vicious red severing curse separating the human torso from the horse legs.

A brutal purple bludgeoning hex caving the ribcage of another, puncturing his lings and allowing him a slow, gasping, painful death (as he drowned via his own blood).

All this whilst he twirled and danced through a hail of arrows and makeshift spears. All this whilst Bane's arms were bent inwards and his hind legs caught under the charred remains of his home. All this, whilst Bane was forced to watch the wizard he truly despised the most decimate his followers. The only centaurs that understood the clear truth that they stood above the humans, as their superiors.

Yet, human scum was torching their homes and massacring them one by one.

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Within minutes it was over, the last of his men made a garbled cry for mercy as his organs were turned into goo, and the hate filled eyes of Harry James Potter turned on him. Wand point glowing a green that all magical creatures were familiar with,

"S-So… I get a quick death?" Bane choked out scornfully, "Has the savage finally developed a conscience?"

Bane sneered through his agony as Potter's rage filled face lost all emotion. The tell-tale glow of the Killing Curse fading and a dark look settling in those soul piercing eyes,

"Fiendfire." Harry growled and a crimson stag of roaring flames burst from his wand. Galloping up the street quickly and purposefully, before exploding with a deafening BANG. Engulfing half of the street in hungry, advancing flames.

"Just a quick taste of what you have to look forward to." Harry said, his voice as hard as steel and cold as ice as he strode away from Bane and the oncoming fire. Bane looked towards the wall of red, feeling it's heat already singing his hair as he desperately tried to pull his ruined legs free,

"Do not be so conceited, savage! I run under the light of Mars. I am a herald of destiny! I shall consume all inferiors and bring my people to where they belong… The top of the world!" He roared in fury as the roar of the flames grew into a near deafening crescendo, the centaur still hopelesly trpped under the collapsed hut,

"Goodbye, Bane." Harry called in a tone that screamed disinterest. His following words drowned out to Bane by the roar of the fire and his own scream of fear and agony that began anew.

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This was a really fun chapter to write. We'll be seeing some more of Centorea in the next chapter as she has a rather large decision to make. Honour or duty?

See you next time (and don't forget to vote on the smut and Papi situation) Xxx