Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.
Chapter 14
A cloaked woman shuffled quickly through a dim room, half-tripping as she tried her hardest to move against the constricting fabric of the taut robe. A purple hood adorned her head, obscuring her face in inky darkness as she gripped onto a file in front of her chest with both hands in silent panic.
The room she was currently crossing was a something of a parody the famous Muggle writer Dante would conjure up in his visions of Hell.
It was a long, rectangular room that was lit by low-hanging lamps that shone a morbid red, like the hue of freshly spilled blood. In contrast to that, tanks of sentient encephala that swam around in a sickly green solution were situated methodically around the room on brown wooden tables. Every piece of equipment was engraved with a description on its surface that seemed most chillingly apt.
The Brain Room.
As the covered figure hurried by the tables, the moist and gelatinous brains stirred to life within the tanks and started slamming themselves against the glass in an attempt attach on to her as she passed by, each time letting out a pulse of light as they rammed themselves against the magically reinforced glass.
Each flash temporarily lit up her face in the darkness, each flash only showing cold black eyes that totally ignored her surroundings and was focused on one thing only, a charcoal-black door on the other side of the room.
She was getting nearer.
Finally reaching the blackened door, she heard the soft sound of murmurs emanating from within as she reached for the brass handle. Gathering her nerves, she pushed it open.
Twelve sets of eyes immediately whipped towards her as she entered the room. It was a brightly illuminated room, causing her to squint as she adjusted to the weird beige glow, a stark juxtaposition to the previous room. A round metallic table lay in the centre of the otherwise empty room, with thirteen seats – and twelve occupied.
Pulling back her hood, she spoke immediately, cutting off the obvious leader in the room as he was opening his mouth.
"Sir, a Class 1-A breach just happened today. This is fro-"
"Sit down, Unspeakable Mayers," the man growled as he interrupted her, "We will hear it after we finish the current topic."
Marie Mayers closed her mouth with a snap and obediently marched towards her seat and quietly sat down. The man in charge had a middle-aged face that was mostly obscured by a red scraggly beard that clung to his skin like winter-ravaged icy tendrils. His shrewd eyes revealed that he was well equipped for dealing with trouble of any sort.
Titus Payne, the current head of the Department of Mysteries then looked towards the thirteen most gifted people in the Wizarding world, and began his tirade.
"By Merlin's Beard, you lot are as useless as a bunch of morally evolved Flobberworms," he snapped, getting up and pacing around the circular table.
"One whole month, and you can't figure out why all the Time-Turners have stopped working – and even better – we can't even make one which works," he continued, with a small amount of spittle forming at his lips.
"This is now a joint effort among all the divisions as this problem affects us all in more ways than one."
He turned towards a clean shaven man, barely in his thirties with grey eyes and a mop of brown hair that acted like a crown on top of his head.
"Unspeakable Duncan, how much has this affected crime?" he barked.
Colin Duncan, head of the department that investigated Time, steepled his fingers and leaned forwards, his eyes shining with steely righteous anger.
"Not too much, the public hasn't gotten wind of this yet."
Noting a few confused faces around the table, he further elucidated why these intricate objects held important place in the Wizarding world.
"The reason why we are so safe is because crime of a magical nature is somewhat feared in our current society, due to our Time-Turners," he began.
"We will appear at scenes of a crime long after it occurs and travel back – just far enough – to catch our lawbreaker."
A voice piped up inquisitively from his side, "I thought interfering with time could have severe consequences?"
Duncan nodded at the speaker in agreement, "Yes, but we only identify the magical trace in the area. Then, and only then, can we link it to a wand or magical core in the present to bring the dangerous or elusive culprit in."
His eyes tightened, "I truly hope we can find a fix soon enough without anyone knowing, especially this new self-proclaimed Dark Lord."
A hand slammed down onto the table, causing it to vibrate with anger from the action.
"They get the picture, Unspeakable Duncan," Titus Payne snarled. Scanning the heads one by one, he located who he was looking for.
"Unspeakable Rookwood, unfortunately we can hide this situation no longer," he scowled.
"Contact the Bundesnachrichtendienst in Germany and get the information we need," he tersely commanded, in total loathing of the idea of asking for external help.
Augustus Rookwood, head of the department that deals with foreign magic and artifacts, nodded. His hard face with his soulless black eyes and clumps of wild curls that bizarrely stuck out in every direction from his head could easily fool someone into believing that he was a mere thug with all brawn and no brain. In truth however, his silver tongue was second to none.
"As you wish," he simply replied.
Satisfied with the response, Titus begun handing out dossiers to the rest of the Unspeakables that patiently sat around the table, each file displaying numerous amounts of caveats, unique to each division.
After an hour more of fierce orders, he finally gave out a command that made the majority of the room breathe a sigh of relief.
"Meeting adjourned."
Unspeakable Mayers only then remembered the other reason why she was here and loudly cleared her throat, desperate to bring this attention to the gathered group.
"Sir, we still have my case of the security breach to discuss," she hurriedly reminded, causing her colleagues to collectively look towards their boss as they froze, half-risen from the seats.
An affirmative grunt was all she needed as she quickly stood up and took out her file, causing the other members to sit back down in slight annoyance, the screeching of metallic chairs against the shiny floor grating on everyone's ears. She took a deep breath, and began.
"At precisely twelve minutes past ten this morning, every record that we have ever had of Muggle-born witches and wizards… was destroyed," she revealed after a slight pause, her pale hands tightly gripping her file.
A strange silence greeted her as the people in the room looked at each other in uncertainty at the proclamation.
Titus, however, looked at her as if she was mad.
"Leave that to the Ministry pencil-pushers, you buffoon. This is not our concern," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, preparing to leave with an irritated huff.
Mayers' stoic face tinged red and she tightened her grip in slight anger as she struggled to control the tone of her voice.
"Sir, what makes this our concern is that there is an unknown spell that stops us recording down any new information relating to Muggle-borns," she spoke with gritted teeth.
Seeing that a nascent spark of curiosity was ignited in her boss's eye, she renewed her confidence and pushed forward.
"Every time someone in the Ministry takes down some information on a Muggle-Born, the recording apparatus disintegrates in a fiery burst of green. Now, the bad news is that this type of magic has been identified as a powerful curse," she continued.
"The good news however, is that my department tells me that the unique flash of green is hinting towards a something of a Mongolian origin," she finished in one breath, giving a huge internal sigh of relief as she sat back down as she sucked cool air back into her lungs.
Time seemed to slow down for Titus Payne as he stroked his scraggly beard and looked upwards, the cogs and sprockets in his mind whirred at a speed only a few could achieve on this mortal plane. He was the leader of one of the most powerful organizations in the world for a reason.
"Unspeakable Mayers, have your Spell Creation team drop all your current cases and move on to this one," he began slowly, enunciating each word as his glazed eyes remained fixated onto the ceiling, seemingly playing out a thousand scenarios all at once.
Mayers finally broke her emotionless mask as she spluttered with disbelief at the drastic order.
"A-All the cases? We still have around fifty of cases wher-…,"
The room shuddered as the brightly lit room suddenly dimmed to a dark blue, like a harrowing midwinter night an hour before pitch dark. The Unspeakables started shivering as a piercing frost seeped into their very bones.
"Drop. Your. Cases."
Mayers could feel her muscles clench tight from the cold, the hairs on her arms rising while her eyes dilated with panic.
"Y-yes sir," she forced out, her now purple lips tinged with blue while her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
As quickly as the powerful magic arrived, it left swiftly after she uttered those words, restoring the room back to the gentle pale glow. The more sensible people in the room immediately cast silent warming charms on themselves.
Titus rubbed his temples briefly before looking up and continuing on, as if nothing had happened at all.
"Unspeakable Rookwood, after your trip to Germany, rendezvous with Mayers in Mongolia. You are now in charge of this case."
Mayers almost made a noise in protest at the decision but wisely clamped her mouth shut at the last second.
"As you wish," Rookwood simply replied, the only one in the room completely unfazed from the strange burst of magic he just experienced.
Titus then scanned the folders strewed on the circular table one last time before getting up, the other Unspeakables avoiding his gaze like the plague.
"Meeting adjourned."
The corridor was exquisite. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold sheen while the high ceiling was dotted with floating candelabra, each one waltzing in each other's soft glow. The sound of quiet footsteps permeated the air and steadily increased in volume as they approached.
"Really, Marie? Angering the boss this early in the morning?" Augustus lazily jabbed as both he and another figure walked languidly down the corridor, basking in the light.
"Oh shut it, Gus," Marie replied as she rolled her eyes, one arm snaking out and swatting him playfully.
She had a warm chestnut coloured hair and pastel white skin which made her glossy pink lips stand out. As she walked, her not overly tall and willowy figure moved with confidence, her cheeks radiating an intelligent beauty.
Her cerulean blue eyes then grew thoughtful as she recalled the great, but carefully controlled, burst of magic she had just been the brunt of.
"Titus 'Mad Dog' Payne… that was the first time I've actually met him face-to-face," she admitted after a pause.
She then whirled to Augustus in slight annoyance.
"You could have warned me!" she groaned.
Augustus let out a hearty chuckle as he received a death glare that showed promise of utmost pain.
Her eyes then lost all shades of humour as she continued.
"Look, I don't know why he put you in charge of a case that clearly–"
Augustus raised his hands up in a gesture of peace.
"I'll just be the leader in name only. I know fully well that your abilities are more adequately suited to this case than anyone else," he reassuringly responded.
He then perked up an eyebrow in slight curiosity.
"You seem quite ardent of late in handling cases that involve Muggle-borns. Is there a particular reason? Or do you just like involving yourself with… them," he asked, the last word dripping with a hidden touch of scorn.
Marie whipped her head around as she stared at a thuggish-looking face she knew all too well, knowing the mind of a genius lay behind it.
"You do not support the Muggle-borns?"
His face grew slightly blank and then gave a little shrug.
"I neither support nor oppose them, part of the job — you know this, Marie."
"Yes, yes… part of the job," she muttered to herself, ending the conversation as she quickened her pace.
A few minutes passed of monotonous walking and all Augustus could hear was Marie grumbling constantly to herself under her breath. Augustus took an educated guess as to what was troubling his friend.
"Marie, surely your current cases can't be that interesting enough to warrant the anger of the Mad Dog himself," he suddenly spoke out, dead certain on what was on her mind.
"They were all so interesting," she whined in response, crossing her arms across her chest in a manner that resembled a petulant child.
"Well, which was the most eye-catching of the lot then?" Augustus nonchalantly asked, deciding to humour her as they leisurely strolled onward.
Marie scrunched up her attractive face in thought as she mentally visualized each one in her mind.
"Probably…" she began slowly as her brain whirred away, "… the one about the young girl?"
"Oh?"
Marie nodded vigorously as she agreed with herself, totally at ease with herself with sharing classified information with him.
"Yeah, definitely this case… the girl called Ariana who these proclaimed 'Death Eaters' tortured."
Augustus stiffened, a small halt in his otherwise fluid and predatory gait, but quickly recovered and caught back in step, waving a lofty hand in the air.
"Well, it is highly unfortunate that the Muggle-borns are the targets of the new Dark–"
"Gus, she was from a long line of Pure-Bloods," Marie suddenly broke in, "We traced her family for several generations back."
Augustus let out a scoff.
"Death-Eaters – torture a Pure-blood?" Augustus refuted, "Hardly fits with their modus operandi, don't you think?"
"You're right, it actually doesn't," she pondered, her brow furrowing with thought as a troubled frown appeared on her face.
Augustus had his full attention on her now, thoughts racing through his brain.
"What family did she belong to?" he asked carefully, his eyes scanning her face.
The intriguing case finally fully filtered to the forefront of Marie's mind after a slight jog of her memory.
"She is of the bloodline of the ancient Peverell family," she burst out with bright energy, "Her genealogy – which was extremely fascinating – was also almost impossible to find, but we finally managed to pull out some documents relating their last descendants."
The bright spark in her eye slowly faded as she continued, "We used all the available information we had to track down her parents… or what was left of them."
A viscous snarl appeared on her face, "The magical residue found on them was similar to those on the child. It would appear that these Death Eaters murdered them before turning on her," she spat in, her venom-filled voice resounding around the corridor.
Augustus felt an invisible blow hit his chest and puncture his lugs, like a direct hit from freshly sharpened morning-star in the heat of a raging battle.
"They murdered…. Pure-bloods?" he weakly asked, his eyes darting back and forth as his thoughts churned in complete disarray.
Marie turned her head and looked at him funnily, sensing that something was off with her friend.
Augustus caught and held her gaze for a second, before straightening up slightly and regaining control of his voice.
"What I meant was, why this was not publicised?" he quickly recovered, the inflections in his voice lessening in intensity as he continued, "Surely, the loss of two ancient pure-bloods would of have been quickly noticed by the populous."
Marie let out a short and bitter laugh, sounding like the harsh grating sound of steel upon steel.
"Although they were born in Britain, we found them living as anchorites in the Scottish highlands," she replied in a tone that seemed slightly bitter, "…and the Scots don't give a 'shite' about what type of blood you had… and not in a positive way either."
Marie gave Augustus another look which for all the intellect in the world, he couldn't decipher.
"The Scottish are unlike the British is many ways, but the focal point here is that they are not as…" she spoke slowly as her eyes clashed with his for a millisecond, "…fanatical."
He tore his gaze away from her as he looked towards the ground as they both fell silent, the only sound to be heard the disjointed pattering of footsteps.
Marie suddenly grasped his arm, pulling him to a dead stop in the middle of a corridor that to the neophytic eye, seemed to stretch on indefinitely in either direction.
"Gus, something is troubling you," she began with slight worry etched onto his face. Noticing that he was opening his mouth to emit an automatic response, she cut him off, "Don't you lie to me… I know you too well."
A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of Augustus' right eye, his mouth forming a stiff grimace. An internal battle waged within his mind as his eyes glazed over, a minute of silence passing. A steely light returned his eyes as he made a decision. He glanced at her patient and concerned face, and then dramatically exhaled, long, loud, and cathartic.
"I…I have a meeting with Lucius Malfoy this afternoon. He wants me to meet somebody that apparently has something that's 'right up my alley' for me," he hesitatingly disclosed as he broke the tense silence, still feeling her soft hand tightly grasping onto his muscly arm.
"It is imperative that you do not tell anyone about this," he lowly spoke in an undertone, "Malfoy made me perform the Unbreakable Vow to conceal the existence of this meeting."
Marie's eyes widened as she let out a small scream of fright, "Stop talking then, you could die!" she shrieked.
Augustus gave a full and mirthful laugh at her frantic distress and used his free hand in an attempt to placate and calm her down.
"Do you really think some upstart member of the languid gentry could upper-hand me in the ways of magic?" he mischievously grinned, causing her to calm down somewhat.
"Not funny," she said crossly as she swatted his shoulder and murmured, "You're sometimes too clever for your own good."
"You just be careful over there," she continued, caution lacing her voice, "I've heard some disturbing rumours within the Department that Lucius had a part to play in his recent father's unfortunate and 'accidental' death."
Still not allowing him to talk, she pushed forward.
"This new supercilious head of house Malfoy is also known to be very… persuasive. Or as I would call him, pernicious," she added with a snort of derision.
Augustus Rookwood, an Unspeakable with a will of iron and limitless ambition, simply chortled in facetiousness.
"At least if I go missing, you'll know where to find me — just search the basement of the Malfoy manor," he joked.
He expected her to roll her eyes in flippancy, but he never expected the cerulean orbs to bore into his own, giving him a sincere and serious look that stirred some unknown emotion within his stone heart.
"I will."
Ariana slumped against a mossy pillar; it was cold but less so than the crisp autumnal air. Her eyes followed the steady puffs of her breath as they rose and dissipated into the evening sky.
Many years ago, on this very spot, she had been with accompanied by a brother and a sister – bound not by blood, but something stronger – on an adventure that would she would not forget in the unending passage of time.
A soft snort and a gentle nudge on her arm broke her out of her thoughts and reminded her that she was not alone. As she lethargically turned her head to her side, a winged horse that possessed a dark skeletal body came into her view. It had a face with reptilian features and was adorned with wide, leathery wings that resembled a bat's, protruding out from its back.
Murmuring reassurances under her breath to the beast, she slowly outstretched and lowered a gentle hand on its bony head to stroke it. A contented rumble from the creature emanated from within as it leaned into her hand, utterly comfortable from the tenderness the young girl was showing.
"Ah… I see yer've met Calliope," a gruff voice rumbled behind her approvingly.
She gave a small start from the sudden noise, but kept her composure as she withdrew her hand off the horse-like figure and firmly pushed herself off the pillar she was resting on to look up at what seemed to her, a colossal figure.
Rubeus Hagrid towered over her with a bright smile on his young face with a large lantern he held aloft with his left hand that shone out and blended with the soft evening rays.
"She's a lovely gal, ain't she?" he continued cheerfully as he lumbered towards them.
"Hello Hagrid," she merrily sang, her gaiety causing him almost to sing back a greeting in return.
An impatient snort beside her interrupted them and made her turn back to the creature, to stare into dark swirling eyes that shimmered through a cloud of midnight black.
"She seems very lonely," she murmured, unsure if she was talking to the beast or to the reflection that shone back from the beasts glimmering eyes.
"Ah, the Thestrals don't get many visitors since… well…," Hagrid trailed off uncomfortably as he looked to the side, his face losing some of its light-heartedness as he realized the young girl in front of him could see them as well.
Ariana finished off his unfinished sentence in her mind.
…since you need to witness death to see them.
Hagrid waved his free hand in the air as if to clear the bad thoughts deriving from his previous comment and looked down at the patient first-year with a more serious countenance.
"Ready ter' go?"
They were just outside Hagrid's Hut, just on the border of the encroaching shadows of the Forbidden Forest. After giving a simple nod, they marched off into the darkening and encompassing forest.
Stepping in the forest robbed Ariana of one sense and but heightened the others. It was disorientating to be almost blinded but given the ears of a wolf. Even the soft susurration of the branches felt heavy in the ears. The sense of smell was sensitized; the loam in the earth and the decomposing leaves made the atmosphere close and thick.
She followed Hagrid on a narrow path deep into the forest, which was made uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it, branched at intervals. They were not following a map, but even if there was, the perpetual shadows would prevent one from using it.
Still puzzled as to why she was out here, she played out a recent memory in her head that caused to her to be in this situation.
"…and we will need to introduce the Patronus Charm into the syllabus for everyone in their third-year and upwards."
Albus raised an eyebrow at the suggestion as he raised his quill off a piece of parchment in front of him, temporarily halting his work.
"The Patronus is an extremely complex charm for a third-year. I would be skeptical of even the fifth-years performing it consistently," he thoroughly disagreed, putting down the quill and focusing entirely on the person opposite his desk.
"Even if only one person out of the entire class could cast it, it could save a life – maybe more," Ariana countered as her wide eyes glimmered with emotion.
Sensing she had more to say, Albus nodded at her to continue.
"I… I was taught in secret how to cast it in my third year at Hogwarts… by Professor Lupin," she hesitatingly divulged.
Albus' eyes lit up at the information and gave a small smile.
"So… young Remus accepted a teaching offer here despite his condition. I'm glad he called this place a home," he murmured to himself.
"Without his help, I would not be sitting before you today. Dementors are a real threat."" Ariana emphasized, pushing past his rambling.
Albus was about to proudly extol her ability to cast the spell at such a young age, but then noticed something gravely amiss. Her brilliant green eyes were flecked with too many things a ten-year-old should not be burdened with.
"Have you performed the Patronus Charm recently?" he questioned suddenly, a furrowed brow marring his once tranquil face.
Ariana scrunched up her face as she jogged her memory, "Not since I got here… I think," she replied in uncertainty.
"Show me," he said simply, his face perfectly blank.
Ariana blinked in confusion at the sudden command.
"Show me," he repeated, steepling his fingers and placing them under his chin.
With hesitation on still on her face, she withdrew her wand from her robes and got up from her chair to walk to the centre of Albus' office.
Looking back at Albus for reaffirmation, she raised her wand after seeing a nod and took a deep breath, concentrating on the memory of her meeting her parents and Sirius in the afterlife.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" she cried.
The image of a proud bounding stag that she was so used to was all but now non-existent, as long wispy strands now effused from the tip of her wand instead.
Gasping in horror as the spell failed for the first time since she learned how to cast it, she tried again, but this time with more vigour.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
This time the puffs of white mist were less visible than the last.
Albus assessed the situation in front of him, eyes narrowing in thought as the young girl tried to cast it over and over again.
Ever since he had met Ariana, something had clicked within him. He vowed to never become the master manipulator and puppeteer of the Wizarding World that he was in the not too distant future. It took all the willpower he had to quash thoughts of schemes and ploys that insidiously rose to the surface of his mind. He let out a deep cathartic breath, his heart feeling indescribably lighter.
After some deliberation, he raised an arm to calm to her. It took a while for Ariana to control herself, her chest still heaving and her face still flushed.
"Our mind is often our greatest enemy," he sagely commented after a brief pause.
"I've always been able to cast this spell perfectly," she trembled in renewed anger as she threw her wand down on his desk with force, "I tried all sorts of memories… none worked."
Albus picked up her wand after it rolled to a stop in front of him and twirled it around in his hands before extending his hand out, proffering it back to her.
"Go with Hagrid into the forest and practice there," he commanded in a gentler tone.
"Why would-…"
"Just go."
"…riana… Hullo?" a voice boomed loudly.
Ariana was jerked out of her mind from the noise as a giant gloved hand waved in front of her face, her once glazed eyes infusing with animation as they darted around to assess her surroundings.
Hagrid gave a hearty laugh as he saw her mind return to the physical plane.
"Yer' always off in your own world aren't ya," he grinned.
Leaning inwards, he continued in a mock whisper, "If ya ever want ter talk, my hut always has some of yer favourite hot chocolate when'er yer want it."
Realizing what Hagrid was trying convey, she felt a rush of emotion towards the half-giant as the floodgates of her heart opened and abruptly bounded over and to hug him – or attempt to hug – as far her little arms could go around him.
Hagrid immediately panicked from the unexpected action; physical affection was something the half-giant had not received much within his lifetime of constant ostracism and bullying.
"Ah umm… well, yes… well," he spluttered as he awkwardly patted her back with his massive but gentle hand.
After a moment, a beaming and angelic face looked up at his as she pulled away. Hagrid gave a loud cough as he readjusted the lamp in his hand, his floundering finally coming to an end as he looked at her.
"…I should be goin' off. You'll be safe 'ere," he promised, slightly red in the face. Not waiting for a reply, Hagrid trotted off in haste into the darkness.
As he left, Ariana caught a glimpse of his face; it was a glowing face with a smile that stretched from one ear to another.
Oh Hagrid, you have no idea how special you are.
She giggled in fondness of her dear friend and only then finally looked around to properly examine her surroundings.
The sun had finally set but by no means was it dark. The waxing gibbous moon looked pale and wan as it shone down on her, as if it shouldn't be up on a night like this. It rose unwillingly and hung like an ill spectre. Silhouetted against it, dim and hazy through the dampness which rose from the unwholesome forest floor, stood the looming trees.
All of a sudden, Ariana burst out into almost maniacal laughter, the noise echoing and bouncing from one object to another as it resounded through the forest. Muffling her uncontrollable outburst with her hands, she eventually calmed herself down.
The Forbidden Forest spans almost 300 acres and yet here I am… the very place where I met Voldemort in my first year.
I shouldn't even be surprised anymore.
"Albus must be barmy that out here somehow I will be able to cast the Patronus out here… it has nothing to do with location," she muttered to herself, kicking dark leaves on the ground dispassionately.
Steeling her will, she took out her wand and raised it up to her eye level. Concentrating of the memory when she and Sirius played Quidditch for the first time, she opened her mouth.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A small inverted shield shimmered into existence for a brief second before devolving into wispy tendrils of smoke, vanishing into the murky night.
"Why is this not working?" she cried out in anger.
Time passed with no sign of the all-familiar ghostly stag, much to the infuriation of the currently belligerent first-year as she cast the spell over and over again.
With a strained gasp, Ariana flopped down beside a fallen log in exhaustion after an hour of trying, leaning with her back against the soft wood in repose. Dark circles had appeared on the pale skin under her eyes from the magical and physical exhaustion.
She didn't even look up when the sound of soft trotting noises that resembled hooves filled the air.
"Mars is bright. I know. Leave me please, I am not in a mood to talk," she snapped.
Realizing what she just blurted out, she temporarily ignored the new visitor and turned towards the log she was leaning on, and hit her head against it in weariness. After a few more thuds, she gave a heaving sigh and finally stood up, turning to the large figure.
"I'm sorry for speaking to you like that, Firenze," she apologised as she shook her head, looking slightly abashed at her uncontrollable outburst, the movement causing black strands of hair to cascade around her face like molten onyx.
The new arrival, a Centaur, looked quite unsure of the bizarre behaviour the human in front of him was exhibiting, but was all the more fascinated by her. For a solid minute, both girl and beast stared at each other in silence, the electric green clashing against astonishingly blue eyes.
"I sense that you have no seer blood in you, but yet your words… carry power," Firenze concluded with a slight pause, breaking the silence.
Firenze looked upwards at the celestial map that the night provided in slight wariness, "Mars is indeed bright," he murmured.
"Mars will only grow brighter," Ariana cryptically responded, her teachings of star auguring from Firenze's time as a professor back in her fifth-year floating to the forefront of her mind.
The Centaur looked highly disturbed as it uneasily shifted its mighty legs around.
"Your words terrify me young one, and I do not know why," Firenze said in slight trepidation.
A sudden rusting in the nearby undergrowth interrupted their conversation and caused Ariana to violently snap her head in the direction of it. Her vision grew dark temporarily as her own body turned against her.
Seriously, I should really get this hair thing sorted. She thought to herself as she spat out some hair from her mouth.
"How do girls tie their hair? Is it a spell? I once heard from Ron that some girls can take thirty minutes to fix up their hair," Ariana muttered to herself, shuddering as she imagined sitting down in front of her mirror to preen herself for that long.
A second Centaur emerged from the bush and into the glade, his stance and demeanour slightly more hostile than the first. Whereas Firenze's skin was pale and possessed startling white-blond hair, the new Centaur's complexion was more of a yellowy hue. It was adorned by a mass of black hair alongside jet-black eyes. Ariana recognized him instantly.
"Hi Bane," she said casually as she lazily raised her hand up and waved, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
Bane's eyes widened and flinched from her greeting, his hoofed legs pawing the ground in discomfort as he urgently looked at Firenze.
"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed, the veins on his muscly forearms distorting like turgid rivers as they writhed under his skin.
Ariana's face morphed into an affronted look from the venom in his voice, and was just about to reply but was abruptly cut off.
"Bane is more attuned to the wheels of destiny than I am," Firenze interjected, in hopes that it would explain his friend's behaviour.
Ariana cocked her head at the seemingly nonsensical sentence, "Attuned?" she echoed in slight confusion.
The mighty beast nodded back at her.
"The Centaurs are an indigenous and prophetic race that has spanned back for millennia. We consult nature herself to portend the future," he began, the forest seemingly quieting as he spoke.
"We do not just use the stars, but also the wind and the air. We can derive auspices from the observations of both thunder and lightning. It is also us, who had brought this gift to the world of man; to the ancient soothsayers and oracles of the long-forgotten past – and to the sibylline of the tumultuous present."
His eyes then narrowed.
"A gift, that has is being controlled and abused by those at the highest level of the Wizarding hierarchy."
Ariana's eyelids grew half-lidded as she hazily remembered the Hall of Prophecy back her fifth-year, soaking in his deep voice as the rise and fall of the inflections pulled at her senses in more than one direction.
"So tell me then, what do you see in the future," she almost purred, magic stirring ominously deep within in against her will as she swayed on the spot.
The hairs on the back of Bane's neck stood up from the words that were seductively coated in magic, and trembled from its power. Sensing danger in the air, he suddenly charged towards them, leaping in-between the young girl and his ally with an outstretched arm.
"FIRENZE, DO NOT SPEAK," Bane roared as put his hand over Firenze's mouth, pulling him back while using his own muscly body as a shield, causing a flock of birds that were once slumbering to awaken and take to the skies from the sudden racket.
As if a trance was broken, Firenze and Ariana broke eye contact and blinked owlishly as the stamping of hooves on the soft forest churned up a swirling brown blue of dust.
After a fit of coughing, the miniature vortex of dust in the previously stagnant air dissipated, and all that was left was three individuals breathing heavily in the aftermath, two of them looking highly confused while the other could not stop himself from shaking.
Bane grew cold as he felt the last vestigial flickers of anger disappear. Now it was unadulterated fear; he needed to consult the elders immediately.
"Leave… please," he quavered, his usual stoic countenance missing and replaced with various emotions he was not proud to display.
Ariana's eyes widened as she saw Firenze slumped limp against Bane with his eyes closed, with small amounts of purple foam coming out from his mouth as it twitched sporadically. She cried out in alarm at the sight.
"What is wrong with-"
"He is magically exhausted and is in need of rest," he quickly lied, not making eye contact with her as he stared directly at the motley blend of leaves on the forest floor.
"I will tell Hagrid of your early departure. The school is in that direction... you will be safe on your journey back," he intoned as he pointed to a direction on her right. He then looked up at her directly, staring deep into her eyes for a brief second in what she could have sworn was undying pity.
"Child of Flame, may you enjoy the fullness of life… while you still can."
With that, he put his arm on Firenze's shoulder and steered him into the dark underbrush, quickly lost from sight as the all-consuming forest swallowed them up whole.
Shaking her head in a befuddled manner, she then chewed on the bottom of her lip as she patted her robes to check whether her wand was safely tucked away before leaving.
The earthen path she took stretched wide to her left and right making navigation in the thick of the forest manageable. She soon saw that the path she was on was brightening from the strengthening glow of the moon as she eventually approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. After a few more minutes, she finally emerged from the suffocating bush with as gasp.
She took in a deep breath of the crisp night air and begun smoothing out her robes, tucking some stray hair behind her ear that floating ethereally and shone silver in the moonlight.
"That… was weird," she concluded aloud in finality.
With a shrug, she trundled back up to the gently glowing castle as she played out the events once more in her head one more time.
The fullness of life... I wonder what he meant by that.
A/N: You dears are simply the best! Let me know what you think of the story and see you all in the next chapter!
