Chapter 2

"The Itch"

When he left the cave, the fire was roaring merrily and fairies were undulating in the air above it. There was a distant roll of thunder. One of Harry's hind legs suddenly itched. That always meant rain was coming.

Upon sighting him, a roan mare left the circle of the fire and quickly embraced him. She had been on her own Minnetaree when he had left for his. This was the first time the two good friends had spoken to each other as adults, and he was pleased she had returned to the herd safe and sound.

"How fare you, Harry?" She asked worriedly, her small hands remaining wrapped around his upper arms. Over her shoulder, Harry caught the dark glare that Bane sent the two of them. Not wanting to cause trouble, Harry gentle stepped back, smiling softly at his childhood friend.

"I have much to think about," he replied automatically. It was the standard reply to inquiries of health and wellbeing. A centaur who was pondering things was a centaur that was content with the world. Harry distinctly wasn't content, but the bonfire was not the right place to discuss personal problems. Thistle's knowing brown eyes softened and she returned the smile. There was a promise in her expression that they would speak later.

Next, Harry was greeted by the council. The three aged centaurs rose from their spots by the fire and walked towards him slowly and regally, moving as if they all shared one body. As they passed Thistle, three heads turned in unison to shoot a reprimanding scowl at her. Tradition dictated Harry be recognized by the elders as an adult before anyone else spoke with him. Thistle blushed at her error in etiquette, bowing respectfully before returning to the circle.

"How fare you, Harry?" The three voices speaking in unison was always strange to hear.

"My questions are many," Harry replied, again in an automatic tone of voice. He wondered if other centaurs really did think all the time. He took a leaf out of Sirius's book and tried very hard not to.

"The Jica'que tells you have walked the path of enlightenment," this time the elder in the middle spoke alone. He was a large centaur, fairly pale because he spent most of his time in his cave mediating. His skin was wrinkled and his belly was slightly protruded. His long mane, curly and oily, was a steely gray color. His coat was a dull blue, but ivory hairs were sprinkled throughout it, as if he'd been dusted with white pollen.

Harry caught Sirius's eye and thought of replying, 'I haven't just walked the path – I've gone completely round the bend.'

Of course he didn't. Attempts at humor were lost on the elders, and they wouldn't know that the others thought he was a bit crazy anyway. They mostly kept to themselves and only interacted with the rest of the herd when it was tradition for them to do so.

"The Reiki has blessed me, yes," Harry replied, turning his focus from Sirius back to the elders.

"May he always do so. The Great Father's ways are soft and mysterious, like the unfolding petals of a blossom…" the right elder's voice was deep and unused.

"…And so it is our hope you will follow his ways and teachings…" the left continued in a crisp monotone.

"…In all you do and say," the middle one finished sagely. Harry had to try hard to resist smiling. The elders presented every new adult in the herd with a unique blessing. He found it humorous that his basically translated to an acknowledgement that he was a talented seer, but a warning that he shouldn't be loud or simplistic like his godfather. The elders absolutely hated Sirius, and it was well known. Unlike the Jica'que, they had little tolerance for those who bucked tradition. Sure enough, behind their backs, Sirius was rolling his eyes and doing rude impersonations of the elders, complete with a pinched face and an upturned nose. Thistle was smiling in amusement, as were some of the younger children.

The Jica'que lightly slapped Sirius upside the back of his head and Harry couldn't hide his smile. Thankfully, the elders thought he was merely happy at being given such a fine blessing.

After the elders had said their bit, things relaxed ever so slightly. The conversation became more laid back, the sound of laughter filled the air, and the bowls of food were readily emptied of their contents. Bane, the other new adult in the herd, had left his spot across the fire to come sit beside Thistle. Unfortunately, this meant he was sitting by Harry as well.

"I know the retelling of my vision tonight will impress you, Thistle. It was a magnificent one – more powerful than even Harry's, I'll bet."

Harry didn't think that was a bet Bane would have won.

Thistle smiled indulgently at his arrogance, blind to how obnoxious he was. Harry wondered if her blindness would last through all their years mated, or if it would wear off after the first few months of sharing a cave and raising a foal.

"I was told you fasted for an entire month," Thistle replied, obviously impressed. Harry cast a critical eye over Bane's shiny coat and glowing skin. He didn't look like he'd just fasted for a month. Harry, by comparison, looked like utter shit. His tail and mane, were tangled, his pitch black coat was dull and greasy. He looked emancipated.

On second thought, Harry mused, it was best if he avoided comparing himself to Bane. The other centaur was strong and swift. He lacked Sirius's charm, though. In fact, Harry would have much rather spent his time in the company of a vapid fairy than with Bane. He was arrogant and stupid. It was a dangerous combination in Harry's humble opinion.

"Of course, I was weary and exhausted after a month without food, but I managed to kill a magnificent stag on my way home with my bare hands. I would have gotten his mate if I'd had my bow and arrows. The elders were certainly impressed, I'll tell you that much," Bane boasted, even going so far to puff his chest out a bit.

Love made centaurs do really stupid things. Harry went back to his eating, thankful Bane was ignoring him in favor of flirting with Thistle. He wasn't always so lucky. It ruined his meal slightly to know that Bane had hunted the meat.

"I saw the carcass before it was quartered. It was a very impressive beast."

Harry resisted the petty urge to make gagging noises. He was an adult now. He shouldn't act like a colt.

Of course, that wasn't stopping Bane.

"The Jica'que wouldn't stop going on about your vision, Harry. But then again, we all know how she favors you. I haven't heard any of your miraculous prophecies," Bane taunted, his voice heavy with scorn. Without missing a beat, Harry took a sip of wine and then casually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You'll die in seven days, and it's going to rain tonight." Harry stood, smiling pleasantly at the shocked look on Bane's face. "Have a pleasant night, you two." Harry ambled away, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Behind him, he could hear Thistle hastily trying to reassure Bane that he was merely joking. From Sirius's spot a fair distance away, he laughed and turned to the Jica'que.

"Our kid's a regular spot of sunshine, isn't he?"

The Jica'que only smiled enigmatically, as was her habit. For the moment, the herd was prosperous and peaceful. The old centaur knew it would not stay that way for long, and her heart ached over the trials she knew would face the dark little centaur that was walking back to his cave alone.

Harry collapsed gratefully onto his hay bed, stretching luxuriously before letting his eyes drift closed. He was exhausted after the heavy meal, and wished to do nothing more than have a good lie in.

Unfortunately, Bane's loud, irritating voice drifted past the grass curtain covering the cave and buzzed about distractingly.

"I had already fought off a pack of wolves without my weapon, and I was weak from fasting. But then my vision came, and my strength was renewed. I saw myself as a mighty hunter. No beast could stand against me. The blood of my prey rushed in my ears. I killed everything…even a two-leg."

There were gasps from the younger centaurs. Harry rolled his eyes and tried to get comfortable. What a load of bull. Harry knew he was making it up. At least Sirius had the decency to be honest and just admit that he didn't have visions. Bane lied about it, dishonoring Reiki and making a fool of himself to those who could see through him.

Thistle was next to retell her vision, but her voice was much softer and Harry couldn't hear her. She would probably tell him about it later anyway. Listening to the whisper of Thistle's voice, Harry cleared his mind and fell into a deep sleep.

"The stars are clear, Lily. Something terrible is going to happen tonight. We have to warn Albus and tell him of your prophecy." James paced back and forth, nervously looking at the star strewn sky every few moments. Lily glanced anxiously back at their cave, her heart filling with worry for the little foal sleeping obliviously inside. James stopped his pacing and took her hands, looking earnestly into her face. Tenderly, he pushed a lock of her red mane behind a delicate ear. "Harry will be fine. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to him," James reassured. Lily closed her eyes tightly and nodded. When she opened them again, her green orbs were filled with determination.

"Let's go."

Harry awoke abruptly, his head still spinning. Despite the tense nature of his parents in the dream, Harry smiled sleepily. He didn't have visions of his parents often, but he cherished the few he did have. A small frown marred his face when he pondered who the mysterious Albus was that his father had mentioned. Harry didn't know any centaur named Albus, and he'd never heard the name mentioned in previous visions. Had the dream shown him the night before they died? In their attempt to warn this Albus character, had they been attacked by the terrible wolves that killed them? Why had they been so urgent to share his mother's prophecy? That was generally frowned upon. Being gifted with the sight of the future came with the responsibility of taking its burden without revealing its mysteries to those who were blind. The sight of a centaur was a holy gift – they were not cheap fortune tellers.

He stumbled to his feet sleepily. His weighty thoughts would not let him resume slumbering. He slowly made his way to the mouth of the large cave, passing Sirius's bed and ignoring his loud snores. Gently, he pulled back the heavy grass curtain and smiled when a wave of raindrops washed over him like a summer breeze. The itch was never wrong.

For a long time he simply stood there, slowly getting drenched but not really caring. For some strange reason, his thoughts drifted to Bane's vision, specifically about killing a two-legs. It was stupid, he knew, and was said only to impress. Centaurs hadn't interacted with two-legs for centuries. They were more myth now than anything else – scary creatures mothers used to frighten their foals into staying where they should.

The low call of an owl shook Harry out of his reverie. That was odd. The birds weren't usually out in the rain. A nagging voice in his head reminded him that owls were the familiars of the two-legs.

"It's just coincidence. You're reading too deeply into things like you always do," Harry whispered softly to himself as he returned to bed. Still, the song of the owl didn't cease…almost as if he were calling for someone.

A/N: Already a few of you have already said you liked the older version better. I liked things about it too, but it really wasn't as good as it could be. I'm proud of this plot bunny, and I want to do it justice. Thanks to everyone who so generously reviewed, even if you already reviewed the first version.