Chapter 8:Tea and Syzygy
A/N: Sorry for the delay - writer's block attacked me! ( Many thanks to all my reviewers so far! ___________________________________________________________
Harry stretched, and stood up stiffly. He had lay in thought for so long, he hadn't noticed how much the cold of the flagstones had seeped into his body.
The sky was what had been holding his attention for the past hour. It was one of the only things, which helped to soothe him now. The sky seemed timeless, infinite, and peaceful. Where the sky went on unchanged year by year, Hogwarts was gradually becoming more warlike. There was a constant uneasy atmosphere inside the school. It filled every corridor and classroom with ominous tension, causing voices to drop to cautious whispers.
The shadows in every corner seeming to fall darker than ever before. So much darker, in fact, it was almost as if there were beings, or things staring out from them. Spying on Hogwarts with many thousands of little black, beady eyes.
Eyes that looked very like Kreachers.
Watching and waiting for the right moment to slip their knife in.
The thought bothered Harry more than he liked to admit. It reminded him of just how much everything had changed in six years. How much he had changed. And this was why, with milder weather on the way, he chose to spend as much time outside as possible.
It was a cold, but sunny Saturday morning. Harry's gaze had been selecting and following certain small white wisps of cloud, which were being tugged along by the fresh breeze. The damp flowerbed he was laying next to was stuffed with yellow and white Daffodils, and all shades of Crocuses.
'Hey Harry! See what I've found!'
Harry's gaze drifted downwards and across the flowerbed to meet the eager, shining eyes of his dorm mate. Neville stood up, muddy kneed, with a trowel in one hand and what appeared to be a small lump of mud in the other.
'How's the bulb finding going, Neville?' he smiled.
'Great!' Neville clumped over in his Wellington Boots to show Harry a small pot full of little muddy balls. 'These are Spear Alliums. If you look carefully you can just see the little red shoot tips poking out of the soil.'
Harry squinted into the dark little container. After staring up at the sky for so long he was rather sun blinded. He blinked several times, but all he could see was a large blotch of purple. 'Oh, yeah - I see them!' he lied.
'I'm going to pot these up.' he said happily. 'And do you remember that little plant I showed everyone on the train?'
'Er.yeah, Neville.' said Harry seriously. 'You mean the one that you poked, getting everyone splattered with horrible, stinky green goo?'
Neville looked up uncertainly, but when he saw Harry was grinning, he giggled. 'That's the one. It's almost a foot tall now, and I've even managed to breed from it!'
'So, how may of them have you got now?'
'Five,' he beamed. 'Professor Sprout is interested in buying some. But.er-'
'You've got attached to them?' asked Harry.
Neville turned slightly pink. 'Yeah. They are rare because they are very difficult to breed. If I've managed to get this far with them, I might be able to breed more.'
'You go ahead. I'll have to come and inspect them someday,'
Neville's eyes lit up. 'Really? That would be cool! And I've also just got this bright pink carnivorous pitcher plant, that,' he paused to giggle, and then whispered, 'that, reminds me a little of Umbridge.'
Harry smirked as he imagined what the Centaurs must have done to her. According to Mr. Weasley she was still quite jumpy. 'I'll bet that old cow lives on insects too!'
'Yeah,' replied Neville, grinning. 'I can show you now if you like? I have to take these back to greenhouse two anyway.'
Harry followed, admiring Neville for being strong enough to think positively despite everything that had happened. He couldn't help feeling rather ashamed of his recent actions, and his tendency to let things get the better of him. If he ever began to feel down, he would always go to see Neville now, and leave Hermione and Ron to their bickering.
He cast a sideways glance at the Quidditch pitch as they walked past. A few Slytherins were practising goal shots. Malfoy was not among them. Harry felt himself scanning the skies. He was the Seeker, maybe he was higher up in the sky, scanning for a Snitch. When he couldn't spot him, Harry felt his fingers instinctively clutch around the handle of his wand. Next to him Neville had begun to speak again.
'-last lesson. Don't you think so Harry?'
'Huh?'
'Er- Professor Brown, better than Professor Lupin was.'
Harry's brow creased in thought. 'Do you mean at teaching?'
Neville blinked. It was hard work having a conversation when his friend's mind kept on wandering. 'Er - yes.'
Harry smiled awkwardly. 'Oh, I don't know. She's good, but she's also a bit sterner than Lupin. And she doesn't give out chocolate.'
Neville flushed slightly before smiling. 'I suppose so.'
Harry grinned. He felt like prodding Neville a bit further on this. Maybe even asking him if he rather liked the sound of the Professor's Welsh accent-
Suddenly there was a sound of rippling material, as a green robed figure streaked down from the sky. An outstretched hand bashed into Neville's arm, causing his pot of bulbs to scatter everywhere.
'Pot-ty and Bot-ty, up a tree-' came the loud and gleeful jeer.
'FUCK YOU, MALFOY!' screamed Neville suddenly, making Harry almost jump out of his skin.
'Ignore him Neville, he's not worth it,' he said quickly, moving down to rake together the scattered bulbs. 'He's nothing but a coward, sitting up there on his broomstick!'
'I know he is!' muttered Neville, clenching and unclenching his fists. 'That's what I keep telling myself. But there's only so much I can take!'
'Yeah, I know,' replied Harry sadly. Then he smirked, 'But don't forget you beat him in your OWLS overall. I expect he's still screwed up about that.'
'Yeah,' Neville breathed. 'Yeah, I did.' He let out a small laugh before bending down to help Harry pick up the bulbs. Despite his anger, Neville still handled the bulbs with great care, placing them gently back in the pot.
His friend paused to study him - Harry had just been carelessly throwing the bulbs back into the pot. He bit his lip, and feeling slightly guilty began to pick the bulbs up a bit more gently. Harry was only too aware of the fact that if it had been him, and not Neville, Malfoy had dive-bombed; he would have probably thrown the bulbs at him in a fit of rage.
Or would he?
'-Control your anger, discipline your mind-'
Harry scowled as the angered voice of Snape hissed through his head. Ha! The bastard! How could the man dare say something like this, when he himself poisoned the air with his own hate and grudges?
The hypocrite his mother told him to thank. Or had that been his mother? Harry frowned. She looked quite a bit older than she did in the- Well, he could picture her less clearly than he could a few days ago.
Harry felt a sudden twinge of doubt. Snape thought he had added too much venom or something to the antidote. Said he was probably hallucinating. Talking rubbish.
Maybe he had been hallucinating. From what he could remember, venom was weird stuff when used as an antidote. Weird enough that it was used as an antidote-
'Come on Harry!'
Harry started and looked around. Neville was already some way down the path. Hastily he stood up, dusted off his knees and caught up with him.
As they entered Greenhouse Two Harry caught sight of a thin figure wrapped in glittery shawls. Sibyl Trelawney was tending to her tea plants, submitting each leaf to her goggle-eyed scrutiny, as if they were already mushed up in the bottom of a cup.
Subconsciously he found himself wanting to avoid a confrontation. The mental image of her rising out of Dumbledore's pensieve still disturbed him considerably, and he was glad he didn't have to take Divination anymore.
Fortunately Neville shared Harry's wish, (He had a guilty complex about all the teacups of hers he'd managed to break) and so the two teenagers crept into another aisle where the jungle-like leaf cover allowed them to tiptoe past unseen.
At the far end of the greenhouse, (after they had managed to battle past Theodore Nott's section of Screeching Leech plants) Neville finally stopped and drew aside a piece of green screening. Harry blinked.
The Mimbulus was huge! It was now planted in a very hefty looking, shallow earthenware pot. And clustered around the bloated base of the plant were five baby Mimbulus, er, plants. Harry wasn't sure if they could be called seedlings or offshoots, or anything plant like, really. To him the plant still looked like a diseased organ.
Neville noticed his friend was looking warily at the large pus filled wart that was pulsing on top of the adult plant.
'Er, don't worry about that,' he smiled nervously. 'I wouldn't dare poke it now it's reached this size!'
'So - er - are you going to pot up the baby ones?' enquired Harry, his eyes still lingering on the wart.
'Yeah, I've got some special pots for them. And, oh, and have a look at this Pitcher Plant.' Neville took out a petri dish and a pair of tweezers from a shelf under the bench. Removing the lid from the dish he gingerly picked up a large dead dung beetle. 'Cephalotus atrox. These Dungs aren't its natural diet, but it seems to prefer them to soldier ants,' he explained.
Harry watched as Neville moved over to a fat pink thing sitting among the swamp plant section of his bench. He couldn't help shuddering as he noted that the wide mouthed plant did indeed look like it was smiling horribly.
'It hasn't said hem-hem yet, has it?' he remarked dryly.
Neville looked around just as he was about to drop the beetle in the plant's mouth. 'Er, I - Oh!'
There was a horrible gurgling sound.
'Whoops,' said Harry.
Neville sighed. 'That's the fourth pair of tweezers it's managed to suck in!' he complained. Professor Sprout's not going to believe it.'
'Can't you fish them out?'
Neville chuckled. 'Not likely. With the potent acid it's got in it, they're probably already half dissolved!'
Harry pulled a face. But it was for more than one reason. Hearing the word dissolved reminded him he had a potions essay, AND revision to do.
'Oh no, he groaned. 'Potions on Monday, Neville. And I haven't even started looking for books yet!'
'Oh God,' was the long-suffering reply. 'And the textbook this year is so hard to understand!'
'Well, no surprise there, just as we expected,' muttered Harry. 'I think I better go back to the dorms to make a start on it now.'
'Okay. I'll be up shortly, I've just got to pot the Alliums up.'
'Sure. Oh, and thanks Neville - for showing me your plants. They're brilliant.'
'Thanks Harry!' beamed the teenager, putting the petri dish of beetles back on the shelf.
The Umbridge plant let out loud belch.
Harry couldn't help grinning. 'See you later then.'
He checked for Trelawney and was relieved to see she had gone. This saved him from going down the less friendly aisle of plants a second time. Once he got outside he slowed down slightly. It was such a shame to go inside on a day like this.
His thoughts wandered back to his - hallucination. He frowned. There was only one thing for it, ask somebody who might know a bit more about it than he did. Hermione scoffed at anything mystical, and Trelawney was out of the question. He needed someone who would listen and not laugh.
So it was between Luna and Firenze. Both of them liked to talk cryptic, but at least they would listen. He stopped still to consider their possible reactions, until he suddenly realised he was well inside the entrance hall, and what was worse - lingering rather close to the dungeon stairwells.
What in Merlin was he doing?
In a split second he had made up his mind, and strode back across the deserted hallway toward the corridor directly opposite the dungeon stairs, which led to the Centaur's divination room.
It was a long, straight corridor - and it seemed to take forever to walk it. He kept on walking, his back straight and eyes set firmly ahead of him until he reached the corner. Once he'd gone round it, Harry's figure seemed to slouch slightly as he let out a great sigh of relief.
Trembling and slightly pale, Harry glanced furtively behind him, listening carefully before approaching the classroom door.
He had a horrid feeling that someone had just watched him walk the entire length of that corridor. Staring fixedly all the way.
And the only way they could have done that, was by standing inside the gloomy stairwell he had almost gone down.
Harry opened the door, and stepped gingerly into the eerie gloom of a moonlit forest. The ground was soft and mossy, and he looked down just in time to avoid trampling through a large clump of snowdrops.
Harry paused, squinting into the trees, rather disturbed that he had happily swapped the feeling of one pair of eyes staring at him, for the feeling of being watched by many more. He took another step forward.
CRACK!
Harry grimaced. Of all the twigs strewn on the forest floor, he had to step on the one that would make the most noise as it broke!
Instantly, a sharp warning yelp of a fox rang out to his left. Harry glanced around quickly. Seeing nothing, he turned back to find a pale and bulky torso had appeared directly in front of him.
Harry jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. 'Don't do that!' he gasped out as he looked directly up into the professor's intense and unblinking gaze.
'I am sorry, Harry Potter. I didn't mean to startle. We Centaurs tread softly.'
'And humans don't,' smiled Harry ruefully.
'Most humans don't.'
The teenager opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't quite form the question he wanted to ask. What was it he wanted to ask?
'I.er.' Inwardly Harry cursed himself for not being prepared. What was he going to say? 'Oh, hello Firenze! Do you happen to know if I really had a conversation with my dead mother while tripping on snake venom?'
'I'm sorry I bothered you,' he said hastily. 'I'll just-'
'Not to worry. I have been expecting you.'
'You have?' was the surprised response.
'Following a foretelling of some disquiet. You doubt.'
'I just wanted to ask,' Harry began nervously, 'if there is any truth in visions?'
Firenze closed his eyes, before saying gently. 'I believe you do not wish me to answer a question on visions.'
Harry half fancied retorting, 'did the planets tell you?' But he checked himself just in time. 'I don't?'
The Centaur opened his eyes, and Harry shuffled under the scrutiny of his staring blue gaze.
Hesitantly Harry began to describe his feelings, his senses and most of what he had heard the night of his attempted suicide. Most, as in he carefully left out the part about Snape. And the fact that it was attempted suicide. His feelings of uncertainty were not helped by Firenze's stance. All through his speech, the Centaur insisted on staring intently up at the night sky, stargazing again.
'So you see, it could have been the venom antidote-' Harry faltered before trailing off.
Was the creature even listening?
Harry shrugged as Firenze still continued to stand motionless, his eyes wandering across the distant constellations. 'Sorry I bothered you,' he whispered, and turned to leave.
What would it mean to a Centaur anyway, his little story? It was just another 'tiny human accident,' most probably.
'You intend to leave before I answer your question, Harry Potter?' came the calm voice.
Harry bit back a smile of relief. 'No, Firenze.' He turned round to find the Centaur regarding him with slight interest. 'Ha,' Harry thought, 'maybe they do think about more things than celestial objects?'
'No venom can affect what the planets foretell,' was the simple reply.
Harry couldn't help frowning. Here was the obscurity. 'And what-'
'Only the planets know their pattern through the skies. They hint at what to come, and with each hour comes a different portent.'
'A portent-' echoed Harry vaguely. What was scary was the fact that even Hermione couldn't help him with this one.
'They do not concern themselves with individual human fate.'
Harry sighed.
'Though they can warn of premature death,' the Centaur finished in a gentle tone.
'Premature death?' Harry blinked.
'Yes. I have consulted the planets for your reading. They have foretold your increasing strength, and not of death. You were close, but fate was against it. I believe you humans call this a near death experience.'
'Oh,' was all Harry could find to say. Then it was true? Could he believe it?
There was a short silence as Harry fought with a question, which had sprung unwanted into his head. It was no good; he had to ask it.
'Firenze? Was - er - Sirius's death foretold?'
There was a short pause. 'Not his death. The death of a wizard.'
'But his own reading,' whispered Harry. 'Was it bad?'
'It warned of Betrayal,' replied Firenze shortly. 'No more specific.'
Harry felt like throwing something. The feeling of hopelessness and
frustration was threatening to well up in him once again. But he could
see why Hermione scoffed at the readings. They were not wrong. They
were vague.
Vague, but also bitterly true. The reading wouldn't have helped avert premature death. But the ruthlessness of a sister and a 'loyal' House Elf was made only too plain in retrospect.
'The positioning of the moon, and the nearest planets that day foretold it. Yet this reading is almost mirrored today. The same celestial objects, a mirrored positioning. The moon lower, two constellations higher and duller. Mercury positioned-'
The Centaur trailed off as his eyes fixed upon the sky again.
Harry tried to remember the significance of Mercury. It was one of the brightest planets in the sky, yet was always obscured by the sun when at its brightest, and always in shadow when closest to the Earth.
He sniffed. This didn't help him at all. Centaurs were impossible.
'Thank you Firenze,' he murmured. The only response Harry got was a swish of a tail.
Harry carefully picked his way back around the snowdrops (He still felt slightly guilty about Neville's Spear Alliums)
And then just as he placed a hand on the doorknob he heard a hoof thud against the ground.
'Do not fear Mercury's protective shadow when it falls near.'
Harry's eyes wandered back to the Centaur. Firenze's pale hide and hair were glowing eerily in the moonlight making him appear almost a ghostly figure. The creature was still staring resolutely at the sky.
'Every planet is half in sun, half in shade.'
Harry nodded, even though Firenze wasn't looking at him. 'Thanks.'
Back outside Harry had to wait until his eyes adjusted to the strong sunlight streaming into the corridor. Frowning, he set off in the direction of the library to get the Potions books.
What in Merlin did Firenze mean? He wondered idly if Luna would make some sense out of it.
A/N: Sorry for the delay - writer's block attacked me! ( Many thanks to all my reviewers so far! ___________________________________________________________
Harry stretched, and stood up stiffly. He had lay in thought for so long, he hadn't noticed how much the cold of the flagstones had seeped into his body.
The sky was what had been holding his attention for the past hour. It was one of the only things, which helped to soothe him now. The sky seemed timeless, infinite, and peaceful. Where the sky went on unchanged year by year, Hogwarts was gradually becoming more warlike. There was a constant uneasy atmosphere inside the school. It filled every corridor and classroom with ominous tension, causing voices to drop to cautious whispers.
The shadows in every corner seeming to fall darker than ever before. So much darker, in fact, it was almost as if there were beings, or things staring out from them. Spying on Hogwarts with many thousands of little black, beady eyes.
Eyes that looked very like Kreachers.
Watching and waiting for the right moment to slip their knife in.
The thought bothered Harry more than he liked to admit. It reminded him of just how much everything had changed in six years. How much he had changed. And this was why, with milder weather on the way, he chose to spend as much time outside as possible.
It was a cold, but sunny Saturday morning. Harry's gaze had been selecting and following certain small white wisps of cloud, which were being tugged along by the fresh breeze. The damp flowerbed he was laying next to was stuffed with yellow and white Daffodils, and all shades of Crocuses.
'Hey Harry! See what I've found!'
Harry's gaze drifted downwards and across the flowerbed to meet the eager, shining eyes of his dorm mate. Neville stood up, muddy kneed, with a trowel in one hand and what appeared to be a small lump of mud in the other.
'How's the bulb finding going, Neville?' he smiled.
'Great!' Neville clumped over in his Wellington Boots to show Harry a small pot full of little muddy balls. 'These are Spear Alliums. If you look carefully you can just see the little red shoot tips poking out of the soil.'
Harry squinted into the dark little container. After staring up at the sky for so long he was rather sun blinded. He blinked several times, but all he could see was a large blotch of purple. 'Oh, yeah - I see them!' he lied.
'I'm going to pot these up.' he said happily. 'And do you remember that little plant I showed everyone on the train?'
'Er.yeah, Neville.' said Harry seriously. 'You mean the one that you poked, getting everyone splattered with horrible, stinky green goo?'
Neville looked up uncertainly, but when he saw Harry was grinning, he giggled. 'That's the one. It's almost a foot tall now, and I've even managed to breed from it!'
'So, how may of them have you got now?'
'Five,' he beamed. 'Professor Sprout is interested in buying some. But.er-'
'You've got attached to them?' asked Harry.
Neville turned slightly pink. 'Yeah. They are rare because they are very difficult to breed. If I've managed to get this far with them, I might be able to breed more.'
'You go ahead. I'll have to come and inspect them someday,'
Neville's eyes lit up. 'Really? That would be cool! And I've also just got this bright pink carnivorous pitcher plant, that,' he paused to giggle, and then whispered, 'that, reminds me a little of Umbridge.'
Harry smirked as he imagined what the Centaurs must have done to her. According to Mr. Weasley she was still quite jumpy. 'I'll bet that old cow lives on insects too!'
'Yeah,' replied Neville, grinning. 'I can show you now if you like? I have to take these back to greenhouse two anyway.'
Harry followed, admiring Neville for being strong enough to think positively despite everything that had happened. He couldn't help feeling rather ashamed of his recent actions, and his tendency to let things get the better of him. If he ever began to feel down, he would always go to see Neville now, and leave Hermione and Ron to their bickering.
He cast a sideways glance at the Quidditch pitch as they walked past. A few Slytherins were practising goal shots. Malfoy was not among them. Harry felt himself scanning the skies. He was the Seeker, maybe he was higher up in the sky, scanning for a Snitch. When he couldn't spot him, Harry felt his fingers instinctively clutch around the handle of his wand. Next to him Neville had begun to speak again.
'-last lesson. Don't you think so Harry?'
'Huh?'
'Er- Professor Brown, better than Professor Lupin was.'
Harry's brow creased in thought. 'Do you mean at teaching?'
Neville blinked. It was hard work having a conversation when his friend's mind kept on wandering. 'Er - yes.'
Harry smiled awkwardly. 'Oh, I don't know. She's good, but she's also a bit sterner than Lupin. And she doesn't give out chocolate.'
Neville flushed slightly before smiling. 'I suppose so.'
Harry grinned. He felt like prodding Neville a bit further on this. Maybe even asking him if he rather liked the sound of the Professor's Welsh accent-
Suddenly there was a sound of rippling material, as a green robed figure streaked down from the sky. An outstretched hand bashed into Neville's arm, causing his pot of bulbs to scatter everywhere.
'Pot-ty and Bot-ty, up a tree-' came the loud and gleeful jeer.
'FUCK YOU, MALFOY!' screamed Neville suddenly, making Harry almost jump out of his skin.
'Ignore him Neville, he's not worth it,' he said quickly, moving down to rake together the scattered bulbs. 'He's nothing but a coward, sitting up there on his broomstick!'
'I know he is!' muttered Neville, clenching and unclenching his fists. 'That's what I keep telling myself. But there's only so much I can take!'
'Yeah, I know,' replied Harry sadly. Then he smirked, 'But don't forget you beat him in your OWLS overall. I expect he's still screwed up about that.'
'Yeah,' Neville breathed. 'Yeah, I did.' He let out a small laugh before bending down to help Harry pick up the bulbs. Despite his anger, Neville still handled the bulbs with great care, placing them gently back in the pot.
His friend paused to study him - Harry had just been carelessly throwing the bulbs back into the pot. He bit his lip, and feeling slightly guilty began to pick the bulbs up a bit more gently. Harry was only too aware of the fact that if it had been him, and not Neville, Malfoy had dive-bombed; he would have probably thrown the bulbs at him in a fit of rage.
Or would he?
'-Control your anger, discipline your mind-'
Harry scowled as the angered voice of Snape hissed through his head. Ha! The bastard! How could the man dare say something like this, when he himself poisoned the air with his own hate and grudges?
The hypocrite his mother told him to thank. Or had that been his mother? Harry frowned. She looked quite a bit older than she did in the- Well, he could picture her less clearly than he could a few days ago.
Harry felt a sudden twinge of doubt. Snape thought he had added too much venom or something to the antidote. Said he was probably hallucinating. Talking rubbish.
Maybe he had been hallucinating. From what he could remember, venom was weird stuff when used as an antidote. Weird enough that it was used as an antidote-
'Come on Harry!'
Harry started and looked around. Neville was already some way down the path. Hastily he stood up, dusted off his knees and caught up with him.
As they entered Greenhouse Two Harry caught sight of a thin figure wrapped in glittery shawls. Sibyl Trelawney was tending to her tea plants, submitting each leaf to her goggle-eyed scrutiny, as if they were already mushed up in the bottom of a cup.
Subconsciously he found himself wanting to avoid a confrontation. The mental image of her rising out of Dumbledore's pensieve still disturbed him considerably, and he was glad he didn't have to take Divination anymore.
Fortunately Neville shared Harry's wish, (He had a guilty complex about all the teacups of hers he'd managed to break) and so the two teenagers crept into another aisle where the jungle-like leaf cover allowed them to tiptoe past unseen.
At the far end of the greenhouse, (after they had managed to battle past Theodore Nott's section of Screeching Leech plants) Neville finally stopped and drew aside a piece of green screening. Harry blinked.
The Mimbulus was huge! It was now planted in a very hefty looking, shallow earthenware pot. And clustered around the bloated base of the plant were five baby Mimbulus, er, plants. Harry wasn't sure if they could be called seedlings or offshoots, or anything plant like, really. To him the plant still looked like a diseased organ.
Neville noticed his friend was looking warily at the large pus filled wart that was pulsing on top of the adult plant.
'Er, don't worry about that,' he smiled nervously. 'I wouldn't dare poke it now it's reached this size!'
'So - er - are you going to pot up the baby ones?' enquired Harry, his eyes still lingering on the wart.
'Yeah, I've got some special pots for them. And, oh, and have a look at this Pitcher Plant.' Neville took out a petri dish and a pair of tweezers from a shelf under the bench. Removing the lid from the dish he gingerly picked up a large dead dung beetle. 'Cephalotus atrox. These Dungs aren't its natural diet, but it seems to prefer them to soldier ants,' he explained.
Harry watched as Neville moved over to a fat pink thing sitting among the swamp plant section of his bench. He couldn't help shuddering as he noted that the wide mouthed plant did indeed look like it was smiling horribly.
'It hasn't said hem-hem yet, has it?' he remarked dryly.
Neville looked around just as he was about to drop the beetle in the plant's mouth. 'Er, I - Oh!'
There was a horrible gurgling sound.
'Whoops,' said Harry.
Neville sighed. 'That's the fourth pair of tweezers it's managed to suck in!' he complained. Professor Sprout's not going to believe it.'
'Can't you fish them out?'
Neville chuckled. 'Not likely. With the potent acid it's got in it, they're probably already half dissolved!'
Harry pulled a face. But it was for more than one reason. Hearing the word dissolved reminded him he had a potions essay, AND revision to do.
'Oh no, he groaned. 'Potions on Monday, Neville. And I haven't even started looking for books yet!'
'Oh God,' was the long-suffering reply. 'And the textbook this year is so hard to understand!'
'Well, no surprise there, just as we expected,' muttered Harry. 'I think I better go back to the dorms to make a start on it now.'
'Okay. I'll be up shortly, I've just got to pot the Alliums up.'
'Sure. Oh, and thanks Neville - for showing me your plants. They're brilliant.'
'Thanks Harry!' beamed the teenager, putting the petri dish of beetles back on the shelf.
The Umbridge plant let out loud belch.
Harry couldn't help grinning. 'See you later then.'
He checked for Trelawney and was relieved to see she had gone. This saved him from going down the less friendly aisle of plants a second time. Once he got outside he slowed down slightly. It was such a shame to go inside on a day like this.
His thoughts wandered back to his - hallucination. He frowned. There was only one thing for it, ask somebody who might know a bit more about it than he did. Hermione scoffed at anything mystical, and Trelawney was out of the question. He needed someone who would listen and not laugh.
So it was between Luna and Firenze. Both of them liked to talk cryptic, but at least they would listen. He stopped still to consider their possible reactions, until he suddenly realised he was well inside the entrance hall, and what was worse - lingering rather close to the dungeon stairwells.
What in Merlin was he doing?
In a split second he had made up his mind, and strode back across the deserted hallway toward the corridor directly opposite the dungeon stairs, which led to the Centaur's divination room.
It was a long, straight corridor - and it seemed to take forever to walk it. He kept on walking, his back straight and eyes set firmly ahead of him until he reached the corner. Once he'd gone round it, Harry's figure seemed to slouch slightly as he let out a great sigh of relief.
Trembling and slightly pale, Harry glanced furtively behind him, listening carefully before approaching the classroom door.
He had a horrid feeling that someone had just watched him walk the entire length of that corridor. Staring fixedly all the way.
And the only way they could have done that, was by standing inside the gloomy stairwell he had almost gone down.
Harry opened the door, and stepped gingerly into the eerie gloom of a moonlit forest. The ground was soft and mossy, and he looked down just in time to avoid trampling through a large clump of snowdrops.
Harry paused, squinting into the trees, rather disturbed that he had happily swapped the feeling of one pair of eyes staring at him, for the feeling of being watched by many more. He took another step forward.
CRACK!
Harry grimaced. Of all the twigs strewn on the forest floor, he had to step on the one that would make the most noise as it broke!
Instantly, a sharp warning yelp of a fox rang out to his left. Harry glanced around quickly. Seeing nothing, he turned back to find a pale and bulky torso had appeared directly in front of him.
Harry jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. 'Don't do that!' he gasped out as he looked directly up into the professor's intense and unblinking gaze.
'I am sorry, Harry Potter. I didn't mean to startle. We Centaurs tread softly.'
'And humans don't,' smiled Harry ruefully.
'Most humans don't.'
The teenager opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't quite form the question he wanted to ask. What was it he wanted to ask?
'I.er.' Inwardly Harry cursed himself for not being prepared. What was he going to say? 'Oh, hello Firenze! Do you happen to know if I really had a conversation with my dead mother while tripping on snake venom?'
'I'm sorry I bothered you,' he said hastily. 'I'll just-'
'Not to worry. I have been expecting you.'
'You have?' was the surprised response.
'Following a foretelling of some disquiet. You doubt.'
'I just wanted to ask,' Harry began nervously, 'if there is any truth in visions?'
Firenze closed his eyes, before saying gently. 'I believe you do not wish me to answer a question on visions.'
Harry half fancied retorting, 'did the planets tell you?' But he checked himself just in time. 'I don't?'
The Centaur opened his eyes, and Harry shuffled under the scrutiny of his staring blue gaze.
Hesitantly Harry began to describe his feelings, his senses and most of what he had heard the night of his attempted suicide. Most, as in he carefully left out the part about Snape. And the fact that it was attempted suicide. His feelings of uncertainty were not helped by Firenze's stance. All through his speech, the Centaur insisted on staring intently up at the night sky, stargazing again.
'So you see, it could have been the venom antidote-' Harry faltered before trailing off.
Was the creature even listening?
Harry shrugged as Firenze still continued to stand motionless, his eyes wandering across the distant constellations. 'Sorry I bothered you,' he whispered, and turned to leave.
What would it mean to a Centaur anyway, his little story? It was just another 'tiny human accident,' most probably.
'You intend to leave before I answer your question, Harry Potter?' came the calm voice.
Harry bit back a smile of relief. 'No, Firenze.' He turned round to find the Centaur regarding him with slight interest. 'Ha,' Harry thought, 'maybe they do think about more things than celestial objects?'
'No venom can affect what the planets foretell,' was the simple reply.
Harry couldn't help frowning. Here was the obscurity. 'And what-'
'Only the planets know their pattern through the skies. They hint at what to come, and with each hour comes a different portent.'
'A portent-' echoed Harry vaguely. What was scary was the fact that even Hermione couldn't help him with this one.
'They do not concern themselves with individual human fate.'
Harry sighed.
'Though they can warn of premature death,' the Centaur finished in a gentle tone.
'Premature death?' Harry blinked.
'Yes. I have consulted the planets for your reading. They have foretold your increasing strength, and not of death. You were close, but fate was against it. I believe you humans call this a near death experience.'
'Oh,' was all Harry could find to say. Then it was true? Could he believe it?
There was a short silence as Harry fought with a question, which had sprung unwanted into his head. It was no good; he had to ask it.
'Firenze? Was - er - Sirius's death foretold?'
There was a short pause. 'Not his death. The death of a wizard.'
'But his own reading,' whispered Harry. 'Was it bad?'
'It warned of Betrayal,' replied Firenze shortly. 'No more specific.'
Harry felt like throwing something. The feeling of hopelessness and
frustration was threatening to well up in him once again. But he could
see why Hermione scoffed at the readings. They were not wrong. They
were vague.
Vague, but also bitterly true. The reading wouldn't have helped avert premature death. But the ruthlessness of a sister and a 'loyal' House Elf was made only too plain in retrospect.
'The positioning of the moon, and the nearest planets that day foretold it. Yet this reading is almost mirrored today. The same celestial objects, a mirrored positioning. The moon lower, two constellations higher and duller. Mercury positioned-'
The Centaur trailed off as his eyes fixed upon the sky again.
Harry tried to remember the significance of Mercury. It was one of the brightest planets in the sky, yet was always obscured by the sun when at its brightest, and always in shadow when closest to the Earth.
He sniffed. This didn't help him at all. Centaurs were impossible.
'Thank you Firenze,' he murmured. The only response Harry got was a swish of a tail.
Harry carefully picked his way back around the snowdrops (He still felt slightly guilty about Neville's Spear Alliums)
And then just as he placed a hand on the doorknob he heard a hoof thud against the ground.
'Do not fear Mercury's protective shadow when it falls near.'
Harry's eyes wandered back to the Centaur. Firenze's pale hide and hair were glowing eerily in the moonlight making him appear almost a ghostly figure. The creature was still staring resolutely at the sky.
'Every planet is half in sun, half in shade.'
Harry nodded, even though Firenze wasn't looking at him. 'Thanks.'
Back outside Harry had to wait until his eyes adjusted to the strong sunlight streaming into the corridor. Frowning, he set off in the direction of the library to get the Potions books.
What in Merlin did Firenze mean? He wondered idly if Luna would make some sense out of it.