Chapter 4: Differences
These next few weeks passed without much incident. A few new patterns, however, were unmistakeably picked up. For instance, it seemed that every time Kentarre met Malfoy, whether in the hall between classes or outside during break or in the Great Hall for a meal, in the end, he would walk off in a huff leaving Kentarre staring after him with a rather smug expression on her face. She began to look forward to her next meeting with him, and found herself cooking up insults to throw at him in her spare time. Sure, the insults he tossed about were scalding enough, but they didn't quite procure the same results as hers did, as she was sure he noticed. Harry, of course, was always nearby to hear her argue with Malfoy; he clearly enjoyed it as much if not more than she did.
Malfoy, though struggling to beat Kentarre in a constant verbal battle, seemed to have little triumphs of his own. The Potions Master Snape seemed to favor Malfoy over the rest of the Slytherins, who seemed to be his favorite bunch. The Gryffindors were always given a hard time in Potions class while the Slytherins were allowed more leniances for pleasure. This did not hinder Kentarre, however; she continued to stare at the Potions master with her annoying I-know-something-you-don't-know look. This seemed to irritate Snape very much, and he was constantly calling her out in class to tell her to stop staring at him and get to work. She usually obliged with a smirk, knowing that she had gotten his goat. *He's extremely paranoid,* she noted. *Wonder what he's hiding.*
Other than her regular Judgement Day Potions classes, the only thing that seemed to have changed was the school's attitude about her. She was attracting less and less stares in the halls because of her silver hair. She, of course, had asked the headmaster if she would be permitted to wear her cloak all the time, but he refused to allow that for democracy's sake. Sure, people could still be heard talking about it occasionally, especially Malfoy, who thought it was freakish, but she paid them no mind. Malfoy once asked her what planet she was from, to which she replied, "Pick a planet. Any one will suffice, just as long as it's not the same one you came from."
However, the normal routine was interrupted one day in October. This day, naturally, was Halloween. The Great Hall was being decorated with several hundred live bats to litter the ceiling, while jack-o-lanterns had the same effect on the floor. The house ghosts were also decked out for the festivities, now popping out of the walls more and more frequently to scare students. Kentarre herself had this experience and made the mistake of continuing to walk indifferently. Incidentally, she walked right through the ghost of the Fat Friar and came out shivering like a weed in a buffeting wind.
Lunch for that day was quite festive, though Kentarre was not feeling quite hungry enough to take part. She did, however, pull apart a few trick wizard crackers with Harry and Ron. Inside they found several noisemakers that made noises such as witch cackles, ghost cries and cat meows. Ron insisted on keeping one that occasionally screamed. Inside another cracker were two pumpkin pasties that turned out to be hiding several Knuts each buried in the crust.
Classes that day were, to be honest, quite interesting. Professor Flitwick had decorated his classroom with several of his own jack- o-lanterns that were illuminated by large flame lizards that were trapped inside near the candle. The lizards would crawl around, making the light seem to move from one place to another and giving it a very eerie effect. Hagrid's class with the wraiths proved also enjoyable. Hagrid had persuaded the wraiths to show their true form for a few moments at a time, and the class watched them change from being a green, scaly, toothy, five- foot lizard to a lamb, a kitten, and even a baby bluejay. They had to close the crate top because the wraiths in lizard form were adept climbers. Potions was, of course, the same as always. Snape's dungeon was beginning to chill down with the oncoming cold weather, and the class was glad that today's potion involved a fire. Everyone, that is, except for Neville. Kentarre had met Neville, and she found him to be rather weak. He had been having severe trouble in Potions class, especially with Snape. Harry told her that this happened all the time, and as Kentarre watched, she did notice a kind of routine in Neville's troubles. When Neville botched up a potion, Snape would supply some kind of rude, scathing remark to throw at Neville and then tell him to clean it up.
It was during dinner that evening that the day began to enter its series of surprises. First, the resident ghosts of Hogwarts, accompanied by others, put on a show of a kind of acrobatics near the ceiling. Then dinner was served, and everyone talked and laughed over a variation of etouffee and assorted vegetables. Dessert came, bringing to the table several kinds of cake that were all frosted in orange and black and savory hard candies that were shaped like pumpkins and candied and caramel apples. After all the dessert was cleared away, Dumbledore got to his feet. The hall gradually reached relative quiet, and Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "Well, I must say, that was a rather good feast, what what?" he began. A rumble of approval echoed in response. He continued, "I have a rather stirring announcement to make. We are graced with the presence of a new teacher. Professor Jycein," he motioned to a person that was sitting at his left, and the hall craned its collective neck to get a look at him, "is the latecoming teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was unable to endear himself to us before now, but he will now join us for the remainder of the school year."
The said professor was lean, bright-eyed and dark-haired. He wore no spectacles, and his skin was smooth and darkly toned. He cast a shrewd eye around the hall, pausing here and there on certain people. His eyes passed directly over Kentarre, as if he didn't see her. *Good,* she thought to herself. *He doesn't perceive me. I thought for a moment that maybe he would. I thought he might be one of those-* Suddenly, his eyes paused in their course and diverted right back to stare at Kentarre. She stared back at him with the stare of a hawk. *This is just great,* thought she. *I wonder just how much he knows.*
Harry leaned over to ask her in a whisper, "Why is he staring at you?" Kentarre replied with clenched teeth. "Because he doesn't know what's good for him. I've found him out just by staring at him."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Hermione rather loudly.
"Shhh. He's giving away all kinds of secrets. Look."
They all did. "Uh... I'm not seeing anything," said Ron after a few minutes. "With his eyes," Kentarre supplied. *I wish he would stop staring at me.* Suddenly she could feel even more pairs of eyes on her. *It appears that the rest of the hall have noticed whom he's staring at. Grrrrr...* Just then, Dumbledore finished saying whatever it was that he was saying and culminated his speech, "And now, it's time for bed. Goodnight!" Everyone began to shuffle toward the door.
Harry spoke to Kentarre. "So, what kinds of secrets did he tell you by staring at you?" She replied, "Nevermind."
"No, I want to know."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't need to know yet."
"How do you know so much?"
"Why do you think I'm so different from everybody else?"
"I... I don't know, and I don't suppose you're just going to tell me either."
"You're correct in that inference, pal."
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That night, Kentarre played for Harry, Ron and Hermione again. This time, she sat for a while just to remember the people for whom these songs were made. Then she began to play. She played thoroughly one melody, then another, just as thorough, then another, just the same. All in all, she went through five melodies, each one just as pure as the last, and each one ringing out in clear tones that were like an angelic voice, one voice that rose above everything and drifted through and around the very air itself. The last note came, faded and suspended, finally tapering into nothingness. Harry asked her, "What was the name of that song?"
"That was a combination and blending of many songs. As you probably noticed, it had five melodies." Kentarre could tell by their faces that they hadn't noticed, but she simply smiled and let it pass. "Those songs actually have a little background to them. The first song symbolizes all that we do not understand. It tells of the constant puzzlement of mankind about the wonders and secrets of the universe. It also tells us of the great enigma of life as we know and do not know it. The second song voices the sweetness of living in this predesigned world of ours that gives us many joys and graces. It is like a bell that rings out the goodness this land and this planet provide for us. The third song, the evening song, tells that though this land is beautiful and good, it must someday come to an end. Nothing lasts forever, as I'm sure you've noticed, not even the ground beneath your feet which seems so solid; it will all cease to exist one day, whether you are ready or not. The fourth song brings news of the trials and hardships of mankind and its posterity. Everyone has troubles, and this song combines the solemnity of them all in a single melody, singing out that though we have made mistakes, taken wrong roads, and poisoned our hearts with talk of riches and greed, we withstand the consequences and carry on. The fifth song reminds us that, though we have troubles and sorrows, life is something to be enjoyed. It encourages us to make merry when the road becomes harsh and cold, to be cheery when an impossible task is placed before us, and to always remember that though conditions may take a turn for the worse, it's never quite as bad as you think it is. Problems are only as insurmountable as you make them out to be. Very good advice, in my opinion. Of course, you shouldn't be overly frivolous, but, well, you know." All three of them looked pensive for a while, until Ron spoke up. "Where did you come across these songs?"
"Well, that's an interesting question. I'd have to know why you are asking to know what kind of answer you want."
"I just want to know where you learned them."
"I learned them from my tutor and friend, Tolus the bard."
"A bard taught you?"
"Everything I needed to know. It was he who started me on those abominable music lessons I told you about."
"Why didn't he teach you music?"
"His expertise was literature. He didn't feel that he would be right for it. Of course, he was more right for it than that other teacher..."
"Well, he knew enough about music to teach you those songs," input Hermione.
"Those songs were engraved upon his memory forever, he said. Nothing could take that away from him. They were also the only songs that were impressed upon him so. He said that I'd know why he taught them to me in time. I do now."
"Why?"
"Those songs are ones of expression, as you may or may not have noticed. Self-expression. I discovered long ago whose stories those songs tell."
"And who are they?"
"Five truly remarkable people that I still hold dear to my heart. Well, it's time for bed. There have been enough questions asked for tonight." They were just creaking to their feet when there came a tapping on the window. It was Nemesis, and he seemed to be carrying something. Hermione's brow furrowed. "I didn't know you could train falcons to carry mail." Ron muttered, "Congratulations, you've found something she doesn't know." Kentarre grinned and said, "I didn't train him to carry mail. He's never done it before now."
When she unlatched the window and opened it, the falcon swooped in to land on the arm of its silver haired owner. Kentarre took his package, a rather large one for a bird his size. "You sure this wasn't too much, Nemesis?" she asked him concernedly. He ruffled his feathers as if to say that he could handle it. She smiled in a relieved way, and bade him goodnight. He glided back out the window, presumably heading to the Owlery for a snooze. Kentarre had noticed that he didn't seem to like the Owlery too much, probably due to the fact that it was occupied by a few too many owls.
The package was a large envelope that was sealed with lightning blue wax. Kentarre immediately knew where it had come from and decided against ripping it open there and then. "Might I suggest that we continue on our way?" she hinted. The others looked at each other, then looked at the package, then looked at Kentarre. However, they did not ask, but silently made their way to their respective dormitories. Hermione, as usual, went directly to bed, and once Kentarre heard her steady breathing join that of the other inhabitants, she also climbed behind her curtain. Procuring a light from her left palm, she set it to hovering and opened the envelope. Inside were five letters, all signed by different people. One by one, each was read by the glow given off by the sphere. Kentarre's face grew more and more solemn as each report was read. The last one reached the pile with the others. Kentarre stared into space for a moment, completely immersed in concentrated thought. Her brow slowly furrowed as she came to one conclusion and then another. Her eyes began to stray as though looking for some other sign to help her put all the pieces of this puzzle together. Her gaze finally fell on the pile of letters, the ink shimmering faintly in the dim glow.
Kentarre gathered up the letters and stowed them away in a secret compartment she had created in her bag. After they were hidden, she extinguished her light and went to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day at breakfast, nearly everyone was checking their schedules to see when they would have a class with the new teacher. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kentarre would have him on Thursday just after lunch. Ron painedly reminded them that it was only Tuesday, and everyone groaned- all except Kentarre. She had been watching this new teacher ever since breakfast began, and, of course, saw nothing unusual, except that he seemed to be avoiding her eyes. Last night, no one had been able to summon the courage to ask her why Professor Jycein had been staring at her, and she probably wouldn't have answered them even if they had. The truth was, she didn't have a clue why, but something told her that the first class with him would provide some answers. So she waited.
Divination classes were growing increasingly more monotonous. Each visit was the same; Trelawney would supervise and give encouragement and critisism where it was due in her airy, annoyingly superior voice. *That old bat obviously hasn't a clue what she's doing,* thought Kentarre grumpily one day after just being told that her Sight was slowly improving, but that she needed to work diligently at it. *This is complete bogus. What we need is a real professional, not some avid believer. I could probably teach these people in three months what she's managed to teach them in three years. Geez, what a waste of time.* Kentarre was not one to be overly self-exploiting, but this, in her opinion, was utterly ridiculous. *After all,* she thought, *the concept of fate itself was conceived by those who wanted to control it, not accept it. But this woman actually believes that fate and destiny are things to be accepted, not maneuvered. And that is why this class is bogus.*
Potions classes hadn't changed at all; Snape was nasty, Malfoy was cocky, and the potions they were concocting were growing increasingly more precise. Kentarre noticed that Neville wasn't looking that well, and as for the other Slytherins, well, they were simply following Snape's unpleasant lead. Kentarre, on the other hand, had a lot to think about, so she didn't pay much attention to anything degrading Snape or Malfoy said. Instead, she concentrated on two things: the potions and her own jumbled thoughts about what had been told her in those letters she had received on Halloween night.
Other than those few classes that Kentarre thought that she wouldn't exactly die without, Thursday seemed to slowly creep closer at an irritating pace. But it had to come sometime, and come it did.
The rumored morning came, and during breakfast, no one mentioned the infamous class that would take place later that afternoon. Instead, the topic was on some other new development. "You know," began Harry, "the new Quidditch season is about to start. Wood has just informed the team that we will begin practice this evening." Hermione frowned. "That's a little early, don't you think?" she inquired. Harry explained, "Well, he says that because the game was completely cancelled last year, our skills have probably been a little weak, so he wants to get an early start just to make sure we haven't forgotten how to fly." Ron put in, "I don't think that'll be a problem with Fred and George. They've been in the air all summer. They only came down to eat."
The hours trickled by one at a time. Just as Kentarre thought that she was going to go mad with anticipation, the bell rang for lunch. Kentarre, as usual, touched nothing, preferring to stare intently at the now-familiar face at the teacher's table. *There's something about him... I can't put my finger on it. I noticed it on Halloween night, and I sense it now. What is it? Why do I feel like I've sensed it before?* The questions in her head continued to mount, her angry confusion intensified, and the minutes drizzled by. Professor Jycein not once did catch her eye, and it was a lucky coincidence, for a greater man than he would have faltered under such scrutiny.
Another tone of the bell, and all the students began to file out of the Great Hall to resume their schedules. Kentarre almost bolted from her chair and whisked away out of the Hall at her customary breakneck pace, slipping the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder as she went. *Finally,* she exulted. *I'll finally get the answers I crave.*
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom looked very familiar. Kentarre had tried to take detours to look inside it on the way to other classes. Much like the rest of the school, she was curious about this new teacher. One of the Gryffindors she had caught pondering aloud about what would happen on their first lesson. His spoken thoughts dwindled mostly on the fact that the professor had stared at Kentarre for several minutes during the Halloween feast. Most students, she found, however, had a different opinion that had nothing to do with Kentarre. "Isn't kinda weird that he showed up on Halloween?" asked Parvati to her best friend Lavender. "Yeah," replied Lavender. "I wonder if there was a reason for that." Kentarre herself, however, had yet another inference, and hers was based more on fact than on guesswork. Her theory was conceived from the letters that had been sent her and the fact that he showed up the very same night. It had nothing to do with Halloween; simply that there was something about him that made her think that he was the same guy mentioned in the letters, and each letter mentioned the same person.
When Kentarre arrived at the classroom, there was already a fairly large group of people milling around in the hall. Kentarre placed herself a good distance away from them and leaned against the wall to wait for the guest of honor, who showed up not long after.
Professor Jycein unlocked the door and the class filed in after him, no one daring to breathe a word. Everyone found a seat; Kentarre, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all went to one side near one window.
The professor situated himself at his desk before beginning class. Shaking his inky bangs off his forehead, he looked around at each person much the same as he had done at the banquet. His eyes flashed with something akin to eagerness when he found Kentarre's face. He began, "Good afternoon, people. I don't think I need to go into all that introduction stuff, so let's cut right to it. This year you will work. You will be covering several areas of this class, which will be accompanied by several rigorous tests." Most of the class groaned, and Professor Jycein replied with a smile, "Geez, it's overwhelming how much you like tests. Anyway, I think I should lay down a few of the guidelines of this class. Most of the material will be hands-on, so you won't be needing your books for the majority of the time." Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron and muttered, "Kinda reminds you of Moody, huh?" The other two nodded solemnly, but Kentarre said nothing. She hadn't even heard. She was staring harshly at the man at the front of the room as though she wanted to bore holes in his eye sockets, but he didn't seem affected by her gaze. Instead, he continued on with his introduction. "I want you all to know that I will tolerate discussion so long as it pertains to the lesson and only if it is directed at me. You will not gossip with each other and say that you are studying because there will be a punishment if you are not. Any questions?" Silence. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Okay, since we appear to have no further business, I'd like to announce today's lesson."
The lean professor went to the board and wrote one chalk word: Hybrid. Setting the chalk down with a sharp chink, Professor Jycein faced the class. "The first lesson is about hybrids, and we will be studying the different types of hybrids during the course of the next month or so. Now, can anyone tell me what a hybrid is?" Hermione's hand leapt up. "Yes?" he asked her. "A hybrid is a cross-breed between two different species," she answered. "Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. Next question. Can anyone tell me what the difference is between a hybrid and a mixed breed?" Once again, Hermione leapt at the chance, and was once again called upon. "A hybrid is a cross of only two, and a mixed breed can be more than two."
"Correct. Take another five, Gryffindor. Now, pay attention, all of you, because I'm about to tell you how you can tell the difference between the two by sight."
They proceeded to take notes until the bell rang. The class shuffled toward the door, Kentarre with them. "Hisakata," came a voice from behind her. It was Jycein. She turned. "I'll be late, Professor."
"Nevermind that. I want a word." Kentarre warily padded up to his desk. "Sit down," he offered. "I'd rather stand," she replied coldly. He shrugged. "Whatever. Listen, I'm sorry I may have caused some rumors on Halloween. I guess I just didn't expect to see you here." Kentarre cocked one eyebrow. "You know my face?" she inquired.
"I've seen you a few times. You don't recognize me, though."
"You are correct. That brings me to another question. Since you've seen me before, do you know about who I am?"
"I know what kind of magic you use, yes."
"Then why were you not expecting to see me here? Surely you know my business."
"No, I do not, and that's why I didn't expect it."
"Good. This means that I can opt not to tell you why I'm here."
"Well, I figured you weren't here to learn magic."
"Of course not, baka. And I'm not going to tell you why I am here, so don't bother asking."
"All right, then. That will be all. I'll write you a note."
Outside the classroom in the vacated hall, Kentarre underwent an internal explosion. *Who does he think he is, putting me through an interrogation?! He's really starting to piss me off!* Her thoughts continued on this train all the way to her next class, Divination.
Kentarre's mood did not improve with the soothing vapors of the Divination classroom. "Ah, Kentarre, dear," simpered Trelawney. "I would like to talk to you for a moment. Please follow me to the inner recesses of my chamber." Once the spidery woman's back was turned, Kentarre cocked one eyebrow but followed, distrust littering her questioning features. Once they were behind the heavy velvet drapes, Trelawney turned her spotlight eyes on Kentarre. "I should tell you right now, Kentarre, that I find your profound skills in the art of Seeing very extraordinary. Your Sight is more impressive than even the most talented of my students, even the seventh years. I congratulate you." Here she paused, waiting for a grateful reply. "Well," said Kentarre, "I have to ask you something." Trelawney, clearly put out about not having been thanked for her immense compliment, tried not to look it and replied, "Yes, what is it?"
"Well, it's nothing really important, I just need to know if you have been Seeing me in your crystal."
"Oh, now and then. As you well know, one never knows what one will see when one looks into the crystal."
"Of course. Well, when you looked, did you see anything unusual?"
"Why do you ask, dear? Are you afraid I might See something that you wish to remain a secret?"
"There is nothing I do that I would not wish to be seen by anyone." Kentarre straightened her robe. *She's perceptive for a twittery old bat,* she mused. "I was just curious," she said aloud, trying to sound nonchalant. Apparently she succeeded, because Trelawney nodded her head and continued with her own subject. "Well, if it's all right with you, I'd like to put you on a different lesson. You appear to have learned all I am teaching these pupils, and I think it unfair for you not to learn as many new things as they are. I noticed that on the test you took at the beginning of the year, you scored very high on the Divination area. I will look at the results of that test, and then I will decide what lesson to give you. Would that be all right with you?" Trelawney widened her eyes, if possible, in anticipation of her answer. Kentarre replied, "I will take this new lesson, but do not be surprised if I do well in that lesson too. I have had much training in this area, and there is not much that you can teach me. But I will take it on." The spidery professor seemed slightly taken aback at Kentarre's discreet hint, but she merely nodded and asked Kentarre to follow her back out into the "main chamber" to resume class.
Their next class, Transfiguration, was by far the most contradicting of the day. Hermione answered the questions asked by McGonagall, and they took notes. Then they were given their assignment, which was to turn a frog into a salamander. The room was soon full of aggravated shouts at escaping frogs. At one point, Neville began calling plaintively across the room to the professor; his toad, Trevor, had leapt from his pocket and was somewhere around the room. "What if someone's already turned him into a salamander?" he whimpered. "How will we know it's him?" Moments later, Ron found the puffed toad having what looked like a heated argument with one of the fugitive frogs in between the wastebasket and Professor McGonagall's desk. Both the toad and the frog were returned, and class went on. Kentarre hadn't been faring too well; her frog was rather small, and didn't seem to want to stay still. Kentarre ended up looking around carefully and putting a sleeping spell on him... sort of. The frog was soon snoozing, and then she turned him into a rather convincing-looking orange colored salamander. She then sat down and kept an eye on him just in case he woke up. McGonagall noticed her position and walked over to see her salamander. The elderly teacher peered closely at the salamander down her wrinkled nose. "Good work," she commented, "but why is it sleeping?" Kentarre picked up her wand and began to prod the reptile, first gently, then a bit more forcefully. Gradually, she was able to rouse it, and it stuck out its now-forked tongue grumpily. The professor nodded in approval and went to see how the other students were faring. Harry came over, his frog in one hand and his wand in the other. He also inspected her project. "How did you do that?" he asked her. Kentarre shrugged. "The same way you're doing it." *Sort of,* she added to herself. Her work was then further approved by other students, including Hermione, whose frog was beginning to look slimmer and orangish.
Just then, a student who looked as though he might be a seventh year walked in and delivered a piece of parchment to Professor McGonagall. The professor gave it a brief examination, then called out, "Hisakata!" Kentarre glanced up, and McGonagall held out the parchment for her to come and take. Upon opening it, she found a list of instructions that was written in a scratchy scrawl and signed by the headmaster. She skimmed it briefly before hastily pocketing it, avoiding Harry's eyes as she did.
At the end of class, Kentarre joined the shuffle out the door, and Harry confronted her. "What was that about?" he inquired. She dismissed him, saying, "It was nothing important. So, you have Quidditch practice again?" The black haired boy nodded. "You haven't forgotten how to fly, have you?" she teased. He grinned. "No, not quite. The Dursleys- my relatives that I live with- won't let me find a deserted place to practice, so the only place where I can do it is here." She asked him nonchalantly, "Would it be all right if I came and watched sometime?" Harry replied, "Sure. We start around six-thirty. Will you be there tonight?"
"No, I have some business to take care of tonight, but if you have practice Thursday, I'll come then- provided something else doesn't come up."
"All right, then."
The rest of the day was spent in anticipation of the end of the last class, when they would be free to do what pleased them. Harry, of course, was by no means excited about practice, because of the cold front that was due tonight; Kentarre, on the other hand, was just as curious as Harry on the matter of her 'business.'
History of Magic class was almost the same as usual; they took notes, and Professor Binns drolled on. However, what was different about this class was not what went on inside. This time, it was outside. Kentarre caught the slightest of movements every now and then out of the corner of her eye. Something was moving outside the window she was seated next to, but every time she went to look, it would disappear, and nothing seemed to be moved. About the sixth time it happened, Kentarre noticed that the thing- whatever it was- was decidedly getting closer to the castle. She reached out with her senses; nothing. Not even an inkling. She slid her face towards the window under the farce of rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes roved her view of the castle grounds, her searching stare not missing a single detail. Nothing moved. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, but Kentarre's eyes remained fixed upon the outside, not wanting to miss that movement again. Harry came and tapped her on the shoulder. "Kentarre," he called, "the bell rang." She put her finger to her lips to silence him lest he break her concentration, and he whispered, "What are you doing?"
"Just be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate," she replied in hushed tones.
"Whatever. We'll meet you in the common room. Come on, guys." At that moment, Kentarre caught another glimpse of movement from the window, and she immediately leapt up and dashed out of the classroom, leaving in her wake a trail of confused students. On and on she rushed, making for the front door. Groaning to herself as she found it closed, she called upon her adrenaline and burst through them at full speed. Around the side of the castle she sprinted until she came to the place where she had seen the thing. In its place was a horrible scene, one that made Kentarre hold her breath and look away. It was a dead wraith, presumably one of Hagrid's, twisted and almost completely devoid of blood and laying horribly sprawled on the ground. Once she had mustered the stomach to look at it again, Kentarre noticed that some other blood was mixed in with that of the wraith. This blood was black, as black as night, unlike the wraith's red, and it dripped off in a trail leading deeper into the woods.
Just then, Harry came up behind her, Ron and Hermione in tow. When he caught sight of what she was staring at, he grimaced, as did the other two. "What happened?" gasped Hermione. "Something's in the forest that shouldn't be," replied Kentarre, completely unable to keep the ominous tone to a minimum. Ron leaned in closer. "That black stuff's more blood?" he guessed. Kentarre nodded. "And I intend to find out whose blood it is. If there is something in there that feeds off the blood of reptiles..."
Harry asked, "Just how did you know this was out here?"
"Because I saw- or thought I saw- what did this. I couldn't make out a definite shape, but I saw something. That's when I ran. I was hoping to catch up with it, but this is what I saw when I got here. So, do I have any volunteer accomplices?" Kentarre grinned around at the shocked trio. "You're not going in there this close to dark, are you?" asked Ron. "What choice do I have? The beast is close... too close for us to pass up a chance to catch it. So what do you say?" The three friends looked dubiously at each other. Harry had one question. "Why are you so concerned about the wraiths?"
"It's not the wraiths at all. I've learned to pay attention to anything out of the ordinary. That's usually how I avoid getting myself killed."
Harry shook his head. "I can't go with you. If I do, I'll be late for Quidditch practice, and Wood will hang me from the North Tower."
"All right then. Any more takers?"
Hermione shook her head, as did Ron. "Homework," said Ron. "I've got it coming out of my ears." Hermione said, "I'd like to get some studying in. I guess tonight's just not a good night."
Kentarre replied, "Well, it looks like I'm going by myself. I'm not letting that thing get away from me." With that, she swept off into the trees, following the trail of black droplets that appeared to lead into the very heart of the forest. The trees became thicker and thicker, and brambles clung to Kentarre's hem, as though they were pleading with her not to go any farther into the treacherous woods. But go she did. The trail in front of her strangely never got any thicker or thinner, as if the creature made no effort to stem the flow. Kentarre pulled out her cloak and wrapped it around herself, pulling the hood up all the way over her head. It could have been due to the fact that the canopy of leaves was getting thicker as she went on, or it might have been that night was fast approaching, but it seemed that the farther she went, the darker it became, until it was almost twilight. *I'll be late for my meeting at the castle,* she told herself, *but then, Dumbledore will want to know about this.* Kentarre had the slightest of suspicions that she was out of school campus and could be penalized, but she nonetheless kept going.
Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of something ahead. Then she heard the sound of leaves rustling frantically, as though someone rather large was shoving them aside. Kentarre continued on, still keeping her footsteps to barely audible. Her senses told her that the thing was directly in front of her, but she never quite caught a full glimpse of it. The creature was leading her to what looked like a clearing, and from that clearing came an eerie green light. Without warning, a voice called out to the darkness, "Ah, you have returned. Good. I was beginning to wonder when you were going to finish indulging yourself. How many did you kill?" Kentarre thought she recognized that voice, but she couldn't match a name to it.
There was no reply. Instead, there was another rustling. "Only one?" came that familiar voice again. "I'm rather surprised." Some more rustling. "Ah, well, no matter. It is only a matter of time before they are all gone. Now, tell me, did anyone sense you?" Again came the rustling. "That is all good. I hate intruders, almost as much as I hate that meddling oaf, Dumbledore." Kentarre listened on, barely breathing. *It isn't him,* she told herself. *No, I would recognize the voice if it was him. But... if it isn't him, then who is it?* Kentarre groaned inwardly. She knew she really shouldn't risk it, but she had to know. She inched closer, trying to get in position so she could have a peek around the tree and see the speaker. When she finally got a good viewpoint, this is what she saw: the clearing was rather small, but apparently just small enough; the speaker's back was turned and his hood was up; the person- or creature- he was speaking to was nowhere to be seen; the green light was coming from the center of a circle of stones- it appeared to be some kind of spell. Kentarre's hiding place was just behind a bush, and it was through a space in between the leaves that she peered, trying to adjust her eyes to the wavering light.
The man spoke again in his irritatingly familiar voice. "I have just received word from our master that he is now attempting to gain the help of the Doom Guardians once more. He tells me that progress is slow, but in the end they will not be able to refuse. Soon he will have their aid, and we will gather more numbers. But he also tells me not to become relaxed because of success. There is one at Hogwarts who could stop us, and that person must not be allowed to interfere. The entire result of our endeavors lies within the hands of one whom we have feared for a long time, but he would not give me that person's name." Here the man paused, obviously pondering the reason for this. Then he shook his head and said, "No matter. He probably assumed I know this person already. He is probably referring to Dumbledore anyway." Somewhere nearby, the rustling, silent for a long period until now, began again. Kentarre immediately began to back into the shadows, but it was too late. The rustling creature had seen her. Kentarre knew she had only one choice left. Holding her left hand out of sight, she closed her eyes and focused. The blue rings, which before had remained unseen, now emitted a bright glow, and Kentarre's image wavered, flickered, and then disappeared altogether. Naught did she move, nor even breathe, as she felt the creature's prescence circle the place where she had last been seen. The thing rustled sharply in frustration after not finding her, but she did not move again until it had moved back towards the greenlit circular clearing.
When it had gone, Kentarre knew it was too dangerous to stay, so she silently stole away from the light, making sure to stick to the trail of dried black blood. Once she could no longer see the green light, she ignited one of her own from her blue tainted palm and set it to glowing at about the level of her left knee, keeping her hand poised directly over it. The blood still spotted the ground, and Kentarre was glad of this, for she would otherwise have had no way back. The forest was pitch black now; night had come again to the Forbidden Forest.
As she swept silently on through the just as silent trees, she kept her mind from forgetting all the details of that overheard conversation. The creature she never laid eyes upon, the man whose face she couldn't glimpse, and the interesting letter from the unknown (though Kentarre had some suspicions) master planner. Dumbledore had to hear this.
These next few weeks passed without much incident. A few new patterns, however, were unmistakeably picked up. For instance, it seemed that every time Kentarre met Malfoy, whether in the hall between classes or outside during break or in the Great Hall for a meal, in the end, he would walk off in a huff leaving Kentarre staring after him with a rather smug expression on her face. She began to look forward to her next meeting with him, and found herself cooking up insults to throw at him in her spare time. Sure, the insults he tossed about were scalding enough, but they didn't quite procure the same results as hers did, as she was sure he noticed. Harry, of course, was always nearby to hear her argue with Malfoy; he clearly enjoyed it as much if not more than she did.
Malfoy, though struggling to beat Kentarre in a constant verbal battle, seemed to have little triumphs of his own. The Potions Master Snape seemed to favor Malfoy over the rest of the Slytherins, who seemed to be his favorite bunch. The Gryffindors were always given a hard time in Potions class while the Slytherins were allowed more leniances for pleasure. This did not hinder Kentarre, however; she continued to stare at the Potions master with her annoying I-know-something-you-don't-know look. This seemed to irritate Snape very much, and he was constantly calling her out in class to tell her to stop staring at him and get to work. She usually obliged with a smirk, knowing that she had gotten his goat. *He's extremely paranoid,* she noted. *Wonder what he's hiding.*
Other than her regular Judgement Day Potions classes, the only thing that seemed to have changed was the school's attitude about her. She was attracting less and less stares in the halls because of her silver hair. She, of course, had asked the headmaster if she would be permitted to wear her cloak all the time, but he refused to allow that for democracy's sake. Sure, people could still be heard talking about it occasionally, especially Malfoy, who thought it was freakish, but she paid them no mind. Malfoy once asked her what planet she was from, to which she replied, "Pick a planet. Any one will suffice, just as long as it's not the same one you came from."
However, the normal routine was interrupted one day in October. This day, naturally, was Halloween. The Great Hall was being decorated with several hundred live bats to litter the ceiling, while jack-o-lanterns had the same effect on the floor. The house ghosts were also decked out for the festivities, now popping out of the walls more and more frequently to scare students. Kentarre herself had this experience and made the mistake of continuing to walk indifferently. Incidentally, she walked right through the ghost of the Fat Friar and came out shivering like a weed in a buffeting wind.
Lunch for that day was quite festive, though Kentarre was not feeling quite hungry enough to take part. She did, however, pull apart a few trick wizard crackers with Harry and Ron. Inside they found several noisemakers that made noises such as witch cackles, ghost cries and cat meows. Ron insisted on keeping one that occasionally screamed. Inside another cracker were two pumpkin pasties that turned out to be hiding several Knuts each buried in the crust.
Classes that day were, to be honest, quite interesting. Professor Flitwick had decorated his classroom with several of his own jack- o-lanterns that were illuminated by large flame lizards that were trapped inside near the candle. The lizards would crawl around, making the light seem to move from one place to another and giving it a very eerie effect. Hagrid's class with the wraiths proved also enjoyable. Hagrid had persuaded the wraiths to show their true form for a few moments at a time, and the class watched them change from being a green, scaly, toothy, five- foot lizard to a lamb, a kitten, and even a baby bluejay. They had to close the crate top because the wraiths in lizard form were adept climbers. Potions was, of course, the same as always. Snape's dungeon was beginning to chill down with the oncoming cold weather, and the class was glad that today's potion involved a fire. Everyone, that is, except for Neville. Kentarre had met Neville, and she found him to be rather weak. He had been having severe trouble in Potions class, especially with Snape. Harry told her that this happened all the time, and as Kentarre watched, she did notice a kind of routine in Neville's troubles. When Neville botched up a potion, Snape would supply some kind of rude, scathing remark to throw at Neville and then tell him to clean it up.
It was during dinner that evening that the day began to enter its series of surprises. First, the resident ghosts of Hogwarts, accompanied by others, put on a show of a kind of acrobatics near the ceiling. Then dinner was served, and everyone talked and laughed over a variation of etouffee and assorted vegetables. Dessert came, bringing to the table several kinds of cake that were all frosted in orange and black and savory hard candies that were shaped like pumpkins and candied and caramel apples. After all the dessert was cleared away, Dumbledore got to his feet. The hall gradually reached relative quiet, and Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "Well, I must say, that was a rather good feast, what what?" he began. A rumble of approval echoed in response. He continued, "I have a rather stirring announcement to make. We are graced with the presence of a new teacher. Professor Jycein," he motioned to a person that was sitting at his left, and the hall craned its collective neck to get a look at him, "is the latecoming teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was unable to endear himself to us before now, but he will now join us for the remainder of the school year."
The said professor was lean, bright-eyed and dark-haired. He wore no spectacles, and his skin was smooth and darkly toned. He cast a shrewd eye around the hall, pausing here and there on certain people. His eyes passed directly over Kentarre, as if he didn't see her. *Good,* she thought to herself. *He doesn't perceive me. I thought for a moment that maybe he would. I thought he might be one of those-* Suddenly, his eyes paused in their course and diverted right back to stare at Kentarre. She stared back at him with the stare of a hawk. *This is just great,* thought she. *I wonder just how much he knows.*
Harry leaned over to ask her in a whisper, "Why is he staring at you?" Kentarre replied with clenched teeth. "Because he doesn't know what's good for him. I've found him out just by staring at him."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Hermione rather loudly.
"Shhh. He's giving away all kinds of secrets. Look."
They all did. "Uh... I'm not seeing anything," said Ron after a few minutes. "With his eyes," Kentarre supplied. *I wish he would stop staring at me.* Suddenly she could feel even more pairs of eyes on her. *It appears that the rest of the hall have noticed whom he's staring at. Grrrrr...* Just then, Dumbledore finished saying whatever it was that he was saying and culminated his speech, "And now, it's time for bed. Goodnight!" Everyone began to shuffle toward the door.
Harry spoke to Kentarre. "So, what kinds of secrets did he tell you by staring at you?" She replied, "Nevermind."
"No, I want to know."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't need to know yet."
"How do you know so much?"
"Why do you think I'm so different from everybody else?"
"I... I don't know, and I don't suppose you're just going to tell me either."
"You're correct in that inference, pal."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, Kentarre played for Harry, Ron and Hermione again. This time, she sat for a while just to remember the people for whom these songs were made. Then she began to play. She played thoroughly one melody, then another, just as thorough, then another, just the same. All in all, she went through five melodies, each one just as pure as the last, and each one ringing out in clear tones that were like an angelic voice, one voice that rose above everything and drifted through and around the very air itself. The last note came, faded and suspended, finally tapering into nothingness. Harry asked her, "What was the name of that song?"
"That was a combination and blending of many songs. As you probably noticed, it had five melodies." Kentarre could tell by their faces that they hadn't noticed, but she simply smiled and let it pass. "Those songs actually have a little background to them. The first song symbolizes all that we do not understand. It tells of the constant puzzlement of mankind about the wonders and secrets of the universe. It also tells us of the great enigma of life as we know and do not know it. The second song voices the sweetness of living in this predesigned world of ours that gives us many joys and graces. It is like a bell that rings out the goodness this land and this planet provide for us. The third song, the evening song, tells that though this land is beautiful and good, it must someday come to an end. Nothing lasts forever, as I'm sure you've noticed, not even the ground beneath your feet which seems so solid; it will all cease to exist one day, whether you are ready or not. The fourth song brings news of the trials and hardships of mankind and its posterity. Everyone has troubles, and this song combines the solemnity of them all in a single melody, singing out that though we have made mistakes, taken wrong roads, and poisoned our hearts with talk of riches and greed, we withstand the consequences and carry on. The fifth song reminds us that, though we have troubles and sorrows, life is something to be enjoyed. It encourages us to make merry when the road becomes harsh and cold, to be cheery when an impossible task is placed before us, and to always remember that though conditions may take a turn for the worse, it's never quite as bad as you think it is. Problems are only as insurmountable as you make them out to be. Very good advice, in my opinion. Of course, you shouldn't be overly frivolous, but, well, you know." All three of them looked pensive for a while, until Ron spoke up. "Where did you come across these songs?"
"Well, that's an interesting question. I'd have to know why you are asking to know what kind of answer you want."
"I just want to know where you learned them."
"I learned them from my tutor and friend, Tolus the bard."
"A bard taught you?"
"Everything I needed to know. It was he who started me on those abominable music lessons I told you about."
"Why didn't he teach you music?"
"His expertise was literature. He didn't feel that he would be right for it. Of course, he was more right for it than that other teacher..."
"Well, he knew enough about music to teach you those songs," input Hermione.
"Those songs were engraved upon his memory forever, he said. Nothing could take that away from him. They were also the only songs that were impressed upon him so. He said that I'd know why he taught them to me in time. I do now."
"Why?"
"Those songs are ones of expression, as you may or may not have noticed. Self-expression. I discovered long ago whose stories those songs tell."
"And who are they?"
"Five truly remarkable people that I still hold dear to my heart. Well, it's time for bed. There have been enough questions asked for tonight." They were just creaking to their feet when there came a tapping on the window. It was Nemesis, and he seemed to be carrying something. Hermione's brow furrowed. "I didn't know you could train falcons to carry mail." Ron muttered, "Congratulations, you've found something she doesn't know." Kentarre grinned and said, "I didn't train him to carry mail. He's never done it before now."
When she unlatched the window and opened it, the falcon swooped in to land on the arm of its silver haired owner. Kentarre took his package, a rather large one for a bird his size. "You sure this wasn't too much, Nemesis?" she asked him concernedly. He ruffled his feathers as if to say that he could handle it. She smiled in a relieved way, and bade him goodnight. He glided back out the window, presumably heading to the Owlery for a snooze. Kentarre had noticed that he didn't seem to like the Owlery too much, probably due to the fact that it was occupied by a few too many owls.
The package was a large envelope that was sealed with lightning blue wax. Kentarre immediately knew where it had come from and decided against ripping it open there and then. "Might I suggest that we continue on our way?" she hinted. The others looked at each other, then looked at the package, then looked at Kentarre. However, they did not ask, but silently made their way to their respective dormitories. Hermione, as usual, went directly to bed, and once Kentarre heard her steady breathing join that of the other inhabitants, she also climbed behind her curtain. Procuring a light from her left palm, she set it to hovering and opened the envelope. Inside were five letters, all signed by different people. One by one, each was read by the glow given off by the sphere. Kentarre's face grew more and more solemn as each report was read. The last one reached the pile with the others. Kentarre stared into space for a moment, completely immersed in concentrated thought. Her brow slowly furrowed as she came to one conclusion and then another. Her eyes began to stray as though looking for some other sign to help her put all the pieces of this puzzle together. Her gaze finally fell on the pile of letters, the ink shimmering faintly in the dim glow.
Kentarre gathered up the letters and stowed them away in a secret compartment she had created in her bag. After they were hidden, she extinguished her light and went to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day at breakfast, nearly everyone was checking their schedules to see when they would have a class with the new teacher. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kentarre would have him on Thursday just after lunch. Ron painedly reminded them that it was only Tuesday, and everyone groaned- all except Kentarre. She had been watching this new teacher ever since breakfast began, and, of course, saw nothing unusual, except that he seemed to be avoiding her eyes. Last night, no one had been able to summon the courage to ask her why Professor Jycein had been staring at her, and she probably wouldn't have answered them even if they had. The truth was, she didn't have a clue why, but something told her that the first class with him would provide some answers. So she waited.
Divination classes were growing increasingly more monotonous. Each visit was the same; Trelawney would supervise and give encouragement and critisism where it was due in her airy, annoyingly superior voice. *That old bat obviously hasn't a clue what she's doing,* thought Kentarre grumpily one day after just being told that her Sight was slowly improving, but that she needed to work diligently at it. *This is complete bogus. What we need is a real professional, not some avid believer. I could probably teach these people in three months what she's managed to teach them in three years. Geez, what a waste of time.* Kentarre was not one to be overly self-exploiting, but this, in her opinion, was utterly ridiculous. *After all,* she thought, *the concept of fate itself was conceived by those who wanted to control it, not accept it. But this woman actually believes that fate and destiny are things to be accepted, not maneuvered. And that is why this class is bogus.*
Potions classes hadn't changed at all; Snape was nasty, Malfoy was cocky, and the potions they were concocting were growing increasingly more precise. Kentarre noticed that Neville wasn't looking that well, and as for the other Slytherins, well, they were simply following Snape's unpleasant lead. Kentarre, on the other hand, had a lot to think about, so she didn't pay much attention to anything degrading Snape or Malfoy said. Instead, she concentrated on two things: the potions and her own jumbled thoughts about what had been told her in those letters she had received on Halloween night.
Other than those few classes that Kentarre thought that she wouldn't exactly die without, Thursday seemed to slowly creep closer at an irritating pace. But it had to come sometime, and come it did.
The rumored morning came, and during breakfast, no one mentioned the infamous class that would take place later that afternoon. Instead, the topic was on some other new development. "You know," began Harry, "the new Quidditch season is about to start. Wood has just informed the team that we will begin practice this evening." Hermione frowned. "That's a little early, don't you think?" she inquired. Harry explained, "Well, he says that because the game was completely cancelled last year, our skills have probably been a little weak, so he wants to get an early start just to make sure we haven't forgotten how to fly." Ron put in, "I don't think that'll be a problem with Fred and George. They've been in the air all summer. They only came down to eat."
The hours trickled by one at a time. Just as Kentarre thought that she was going to go mad with anticipation, the bell rang for lunch. Kentarre, as usual, touched nothing, preferring to stare intently at the now-familiar face at the teacher's table. *There's something about him... I can't put my finger on it. I noticed it on Halloween night, and I sense it now. What is it? Why do I feel like I've sensed it before?* The questions in her head continued to mount, her angry confusion intensified, and the minutes drizzled by. Professor Jycein not once did catch her eye, and it was a lucky coincidence, for a greater man than he would have faltered under such scrutiny.
Another tone of the bell, and all the students began to file out of the Great Hall to resume their schedules. Kentarre almost bolted from her chair and whisked away out of the Hall at her customary breakneck pace, slipping the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder as she went. *Finally,* she exulted. *I'll finally get the answers I crave.*
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom looked very familiar. Kentarre had tried to take detours to look inside it on the way to other classes. Much like the rest of the school, she was curious about this new teacher. One of the Gryffindors she had caught pondering aloud about what would happen on their first lesson. His spoken thoughts dwindled mostly on the fact that the professor had stared at Kentarre for several minutes during the Halloween feast. Most students, she found, however, had a different opinion that had nothing to do with Kentarre. "Isn't kinda weird that he showed up on Halloween?" asked Parvati to her best friend Lavender. "Yeah," replied Lavender. "I wonder if there was a reason for that." Kentarre herself, however, had yet another inference, and hers was based more on fact than on guesswork. Her theory was conceived from the letters that had been sent her and the fact that he showed up the very same night. It had nothing to do with Halloween; simply that there was something about him that made her think that he was the same guy mentioned in the letters, and each letter mentioned the same person.
When Kentarre arrived at the classroom, there was already a fairly large group of people milling around in the hall. Kentarre placed herself a good distance away from them and leaned against the wall to wait for the guest of honor, who showed up not long after.
Professor Jycein unlocked the door and the class filed in after him, no one daring to breathe a word. Everyone found a seat; Kentarre, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all went to one side near one window.
The professor situated himself at his desk before beginning class. Shaking his inky bangs off his forehead, he looked around at each person much the same as he had done at the banquet. His eyes flashed with something akin to eagerness when he found Kentarre's face. He began, "Good afternoon, people. I don't think I need to go into all that introduction stuff, so let's cut right to it. This year you will work. You will be covering several areas of this class, which will be accompanied by several rigorous tests." Most of the class groaned, and Professor Jycein replied with a smile, "Geez, it's overwhelming how much you like tests. Anyway, I think I should lay down a few of the guidelines of this class. Most of the material will be hands-on, so you won't be needing your books for the majority of the time." Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron and muttered, "Kinda reminds you of Moody, huh?" The other two nodded solemnly, but Kentarre said nothing. She hadn't even heard. She was staring harshly at the man at the front of the room as though she wanted to bore holes in his eye sockets, but he didn't seem affected by her gaze. Instead, he continued on with his introduction. "I want you all to know that I will tolerate discussion so long as it pertains to the lesson and only if it is directed at me. You will not gossip with each other and say that you are studying because there will be a punishment if you are not. Any questions?" Silence. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Okay, since we appear to have no further business, I'd like to announce today's lesson."
The lean professor went to the board and wrote one chalk word: Hybrid. Setting the chalk down with a sharp chink, Professor Jycein faced the class. "The first lesson is about hybrids, and we will be studying the different types of hybrids during the course of the next month or so. Now, can anyone tell me what a hybrid is?" Hermione's hand leapt up. "Yes?" he asked her. "A hybrid is a cross-breed between two different species," she answered. "Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. Next question. Can anyone tell me what the difference is between a hybrid and a mixed breed?" Once again, Hermione leapt at the chance, and was once again called upon. "A hybrid is a cross of only two, and a mixed breed can be more than two."
"Correct. Take another five, Gryffindor. Now, pay attention, all of you, because I'm about to tell you how you can tell the difference between the two by sight."
They proceeded to take notes until the bell rang. The class shuffled toward the door, Kentarre with them. "Hisakata," came a voice from behind her. It was Jycein. She turned. "I'll be late, Professor."
"Nevermind that. I want a word." Kentarre warily padded up to his desk. "Sit down," he offered. "I'd rather stand," she replied coldly. He shrugged. "Whatever. Listen, I'm sorry I may have caused some rumors on Halloween. I guess I just didn't expect to see you here." Kentarre cocked one eyebrow. "You know my face?" she inquired.
"I've seen you a few times. You don't recognize me, though."
"You are correct. That brings me to another question. Since you've seen me before, do you know about who I am?"
"I know what kind of magic you use, yes."
"Then why were you not expecting to see me here? Surely you know my business."
"No, I do not, and that's why I didn't expect it."
"Good. This means that I can opt not to tell you why I'm here."
"Well, I figured you weren't here to learn magic."
"Of course not, baka. And I'm not going to tell you why I am here, so don't bother asking."
"All right, then. That will be all. I'll write you a note."
Outside the classroom in the vacated hall, Kentarre underwent an internal explosion. *Who does he think he is, putting me through an interrogation?! He's really starting to piss me off!* Her thoughts continued on this train all the way to her next class, Divination.
Kentarre's mood did not improve with the soothing vapors of the Divination classroom. "Ah, Kentarre, dear," simpered Trelawney. "I would like to talk to you for a moment. Please follow me to the inner recesses of my chamber." Once the spidery woman's back was turned, Kentarre cocked one eyebrow but followed, distrust littering her questioning features. Once they were behind the heavy velvet drapes, Trelawney turned her spotlight eyes on Kentarre. "I should tell you right now, Kentarre, that I find your profound skills in the art of Seeing very extraordinary. Your Sight is more impressive than even the most talented of my students, even the seventh years. I congratulate you." Here she paused, waiting for a grateful reply. "Well," said Kentarre, "I have to ask you something." Trelawney, clearly put out about not having been thanked for her immense compliment, tried not to look it and replied, "Yes, what is it?"
"Well, it's nothing really important, I just need to know if you have been Seeing me in your crystal."
"Oh, now and then. As you well know, one never knows what one will see when one looks into the crystal."
"Of course. Well, when you looked, did you see anything unusual?"
"Why do you ask, dear? Are you afraid I might See something that you wish to remain a secret?"
"There is nothing I do that I would not wish to be seen by anyone." Kentarre straightened her robe. *She's perceptive for a twittery old bat,* she mused. "I was just curious," she said aloud, trying to sound nonchalant. Apparently she succeeded, because Trelawney nodded her head and continued with her own subject. "Well, if it's all right with you, I'd like to put you on a different lesson. You appear to have learned all I am teaching these pupils, and I think it unfair for you not to learn as many new things as they are. I noticed that on the test you took at the beginning of the year, you scored very high on the Divination area. I will look at the results of that test, and then I will decide what lesson to give you. Would that be all right with you?" Trelawney widened her eyes, if possible, in anticipation of her answer. Kentarre replied, "I will take this new lesson, but do not be surprised if I do well in that lesson too. I have had much training in this area, and there is not much that you can teach me. But I will take it on." The spidery professor seemed slightly taken aback at Kentarre's discreet hint, but she merely nodded and asked Kentarre to follow her back out into the "main chamber" to resume class.
Their next class, Transfiguration, was by far the most contradicting of the day. Hermione answered the questions asked by McGonagall, and they took notes. Then they were given their assignment, which was to turn a frog into a salamander. The room was soon full of aggravated shouts at escaping frogs. At one point, Neville began calling plaintively across the room to the professor; his toad, Trevor, had leapt from his pocket and was somewhere around the room. "What if someone's already turned him into a salamander?" he whimpered. "How will we know it's him?" Moments later, Ron found the puffed toad having what looked like a heated argument with one of the fugitive frogs in between the wastebasket and Professor McGonagall's desk. Both the toad and the frog were returned, and class went on. Kentarre hadn't been faring too well; her frog was rather small, and didn't seem to want to stay still. Kentarre ended up looking around carefully and putting a sleeping spell on him... sort of. The frog was soon snoozing, and then she turned him into a rather convincing-looking orange colored salamander. She then sat down and kept an eye on him just in case he woke up. McGonagall noticed her position and walked over to see her salamander. The elderly teacher peered closely at the salamander down her wrinkled nose. "Good work," she commented, "but why is it sleeping?" Kentarre picked up her wand and began to prod the reptile, first gently, then a bit more forcefully. Gradually, she was able to rouse it, and it stuck out its now-forked tongue grumpily. The professor nodded in approval and went to see how the other students were faring. Harry came over, his frog in one hand and his wand in the other. He also inspected her project. "How did you do that?" he asked her. Kentarre shrugged. "The same way you're doing it." *Sort of,* she added to herself. Her work was then further approved by other students, including Hermione, whose frog was beginning to look slimmer and orangish.
Just then, a student who looked as though he might be a seventh year walked in and delivered a piece of parchment to Professor McGonagall. The professor gave it a brief examination, then called out, "Hisakata!" Kentarre glanced up, and McGonagall held out the parchment for her to come and take. Upon opening it, she found a list of instructions that was written in a scratchy scrawl and signed by the headmaster. She skimmed it briefly before hastily pocketing it, avoiding Harry's eyes as she did.
At the end of class, Kentarre joined the shuffle out the door, and Harry confronted her. "What was that about?" he inquired. She dismissed him, saying, "It was nothing important. So, you have Quidditch practice again?" The black haired boy nodded. "You haven't forgotten how to fly, have you?" she teased. He grinned. "No, not quite. The Dursleys- my relatives that I live with- won't let me find a deserted place to practice, so the only place where I can do it is here." She asked him nonchalantly, "Would it be all right if I came and watched sometime?" Harry replied, "Sure. We start around six-thirty. Will you be there tonight?"
"No, I have some business to take care of tonight, but if you have practice Thursday, I'll come then- provided something else doesn't come up."
"All right, then."
The rest of the day was spent in anticipation of the end of the last class, when they would be free to do what pleased them. Harry, of course, was by no means excited about practice, because of the cold front that was due tonight; Kentarre, on the other hand, was just as curious as Harry on the matter of her 'business.'
History of Magic class was almost the same as usual; they took notes, and Professor Binns drolled on. However, what was different about this class was not what went on inside. This time, it was outside. Kentarre caught the slightest of movements every now and then out of the corner of her eye. Something was moving outside the window she was seated next to, but every time she went to look, it would disappear, and nothing seemed to be moved. About the sixth time it happened, Kentarre noticed that the thing- whatever it was- was decidedly getting closer to the castle. She reached out with her senses; nothing. Not even an inkling. She slid her face towards the window under the farce of rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes roved her view of the castle grounds, her searching stare not missing a single detail. Nothing moved. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, but Kentarre's eyes remained fixed upon the outside, not wanting to miss that movement again. Harry came and tapped her on the shoulder. "Kentarre," he called, "the bell rang." She put her finger to her lips to silence him lest he break her concentration, and he whispered, "What are you doing?"
"Just be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate," she replied in hushed tones.
"Whatever. We'll meet you in the common room. Come on, guys." At that moment, Kentarre caught another glimpse of movement from the window, and she immediately leapt up and dashed out of the classroom, leaving in her wake a trail of confused students. On and on she rushed, making for the front door. Groaning to herself as she found it closed, she called upon her adrenaline and burst through them at full speed. Around the side of the castle she sprinted until she came to the place where she had seen the thing. In its place was a horrible scene, one that made Kentarre hold her breath and look away. It was a dead wraith, presumably one of Hagrid's, twisted and almost completely devoid of blood and laying horribly sprawled on the ground. Once she had mustered the stomach to look at it again, Kentarre noticed that some other blood was mixed in with that of the wraith. This blood was black, as black as night, unlike the wraith's red, and it dripped off in a trail leading deeper into the woods.
Just then, Harry came up behind her, Ron and Hermione in tow. When he caught sight of what she was staring at, he grimaced, as did the other two. "What happened?" gasped Hermione. "Something's in the forest that shouldn't be," replied Kentarre, completely unable to keep the ominous tone to a minimum. Ron leaned in closer. "That black stuff's more blood?" he guessed. Kentarre nodded. "And I intend to find out whose blood it is. If there is something in there that feeds off the blood of reptiles..."
Harry asked, "Just how did you know this was out here?"
"Because I saw- or thought I saw- what did this. I couldn't make out a definite shape, but I saw something. That's when I ran. I was hoping to catch up with it, but this is what I saw when I got here. So, do I have any volunteer accomplices?" Kentarre grinned around at the shocked trio. "You're not going in there this close to dark, are you?" asked Ron. "What choice do I have? The beast is close... too close for us to pass up a chance to catch it. So what do you say?" The three friends looked dubiously at each other. Harry had one question. "Why are you so concerned about the wraiths?"
"It's not the wraiths at all. I've learned to pay attention to anything out of the ordinary. That's usually how I avoid getting myself killed."
Harry shook his head. "I can't go with you. If I do, I'll be late for Quidditch practice, and Wood will hang me from the North Tower."
"All right then. Any more takers?"
Hermione shook her head, as did Ron. "Homework," said Ron. "I've got it coming out of my ears." Hermione said, "I'd like to get some studying in. I guess tonight's just not a good night."
Kentarre replied, "Well, it looks like I'm going by myself. I'm not letting that thing get away from me." With that, she swept off into the trees, following the trail of black droplets that appeared to lead into the very heart of the forest. The trees became thicker and thicker, and brambles clung to Kentarre's hem, as though they were pleading with her not to go any farther into the treacherous woods. But go she did. The trail in front of her strangely never got any thicker or thinner, as if the creature made no effort to stem the flow. Kentarre pulled out her cloak and wrapped it around herself, pulling the hood up all the way over her head. It could have been due to the fact that the canopy of leaves was getting thicker as she went on, or it might have been that night was fast approaching, but it seemed that the farther she went, the darker it became, until it was almost twilight. *I'll be late for my meeting at the castle,* she told herself, *but then, Dumbledore will want to know about this.* Kentarre had the slightest of suspicions that she was out of school campus and could be penalized, but she nonetheless kept going.
Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of something ahead. Then she heard the sound of leaves rustling frantically, as though someone rather large was shoving them aside. Kentarre continued on, still keeping her footsteps to barely audible. Her senses told her that the thing was directly in front of her, but she never quite caught a full glimpse of it. The creature was leading her to what looked like a clearing, and from that clearing came an eerie green light. Without warning, a voice called out to the darkness, "Ah, you have returned. Good. I was beginning to wonder when you were going to finish indulging yourself. How many did you kill?" Kentarre thought she recognized that voice, but she couldn't match a name to it.
There was no reply. Instead, there was another rustling. "Only one?" came that familiar voice again. "I'm rather surprised." Some more rustling. "Ah, well, no matter. It is only a matter of time before they are all gone. Now, tell me, did anyone sense you?" Again came the rustling. "That is all good. I hate intruders, almost as much as I hate that meddling oaf, Dumbledore." Kentarre listened on, barely breathing. *It isn't him,* she told herself. *No, I would recognize the voice if it was him. But... if it isn't him, then who is it?* Kentarre groaned inwardly. She knew she really shouldn't risk it, but she had to know. She inched closer, trying to get in position so she could have a peek around the tree and see the speaker. When she finally got a good viewpoint, this is what she saw: the clearing was rather small, but apparently just small enough; the speaker's back was turned and his hood was up; the person- or creature- he was speaking to was nowhere to be seen; the green light was coming from the center of a circle of stones- it appeared to be some kind of spell. Kentarre's hiding place was just behind a bush, and it was through a space in between the leaves that she peered, trying to adjust her eyes to the wavering light.
The man spoke again in his irritatingly familiar voice. "I have just received word from our master that he is now attempting to gain the help of the Doom Guardians once more. He tells me that progress is slow, but in the end they will not be able to refuse. Soon he will have their aid, and we will gather more numbers. But he also tells me not to become relaxed because of success. There is one at Hogwarts who could stop us, and that person must not be allowed to interfere. The entire result of our endeavors lies within the hands of one whom we have feared for a long time, but he would not give me that person's name." Here the man paused, obviously pondering the reason for this. Then he shook his head and said, "No matter. He probably assumed I know this person already. He is probably referring to Dumbledore anyway." Somewhere nearby, the rustling, silent for a long period until now, began again. Kentarre immediately began to back into the shadows, but it was too late. The rustling creature had seen her. Kentarre knew she had only one choice left. Holding her left hand out of sight, she closed her eyes and focused. The blue rings, which before had remained unseen, now emitted a bright glow, and Kentarre's image wavered, flickered, and then disappeared altogether. Naught did she move, nor even breathe, as she felt the creature's prescence circle the place where she had last been seen. The thing rustled sharply in frustration after not finding her, but she did not move again until it had moved back towards the greenlit circular clearing.
When it had gone, Kentarre knew it was too dangerous to stay, so she silently stole away from the light, making sure to stick to the trail of dried black blood. Once she could no longer see the green light, she ignited one of her own from her blue tainted palm and set it to glowing at about the level of her left knee, keeping her hand poised directly over it. The blood still spotted the ground, and Kentarre was glad of this, for she would otherwise have had no way back. The forest was pitch black now; night had come again to the Forbidden Forest.
As she swept silently on through the just as silent trees, she kept her mind from forgetting all the details of that overheard conversation. The creature she never laid eyes upon, the man whose face she couldn't glimpse, and the interesting letter from the unknown (though Kentarre had some suspicions) master planner. Dumbledore had to hear this.