Chapter 3

"Revelations"

Harry awoke early, as he usually did, and spent the next ten minutes trying to drag Sirius out of bed. Harry's godfather usually came back to the cave pretty late at night. Harry didn't know what kept him up, but he assumed (considering how many unmated mares flirted with Sirius) that he was out socializing.

With loving irritation, Harry popped his sleeping Godfather on his speckled black and white flank.

"Wake up, Sirius!"

Nothing.

Harry would have to resort to drastic measures. Grinning mischievously, Harry picked up a handful of Sirius's long, curly tail. Sirius wouldn't admit it, but his tail and his mane were his pride and joy. He kept himself immaculately groomed, and his hair was always silky and sleek – the exact opposite of Harry's.

Harry yanked…quite hard.

"YEOWCH!" Sirius squawked.

"Good morning, Sirius," Harry chirruped before prancing happily out of the cave. Sirius cursed and grumbled behind him as he woke up. It was a scene that was played out every morning with little variation.

As Harry exited their cave, a long legged foal streaked in front of him, his tail and mane flying behind him and dripping with soapy suds. Grinning, Harry easily looped his arms around the little foal's torso and restrained him until his mother caught up to him.

"Willy, you little scoundrel! You know you weren't finished with your bath. And wiggling away from me in the river? Just wait until I tell your father!"

Harry thought the foal's antics were amusing until he kicked him in the shin and made another break for it. Willy was notorious for skipping out on morning grooming. Willy's mother shouted a quick apology before galloping off after her wayward son again. Harry was still massaging his injured foreleg, which was itching something fierce in addition to throbbing with pain, when Sirius emerged from the cave.

"You deserved that, you impertinent whelp."

Harry grimaced in reply and hobbled to join the other centaurs around the morning fire. Thistle smiled at him, then yawned hugely.

"Merry morning to you, Harry. How," she yawned again, "…fare you?" Smiling at his sleepy friend, Harry gingerly sat down, wary of injuring his leg further.

"My head is still full of pleasant dreams. How fare you, Thistle?" She absently pulled his tail across her lap and began to thread her fingers through the wild black locks, working out the tangles gently with her fingers.

"My thoughts are many – same old, same old. Pass me some of those berries, would you?" Harry handed her the lopsided basket, noticing with a grimace that it was one he had woven.

"I missed hearing about your vision last night," Harry said, taking a handful of the red, bulbous berries for himself. Thistle continued weaving one hand through his tail tangles, using the other to pop berries into her mouth. Her expression turned dark. Her auburn mane was brushed forward so that it covered her small breasts, and Harry noticed a tiny leaf snagged in the brown curtain of hair. He leaned forward and plucked it out.

"Perhaps we could wait until we're alone?"

His interest piqued, Harry got to his feet and helped Thistle stand.

"Just let me go say good morning to grandmother, and then we can go for a walk."

Moments later they were strolling through the forest along the river bank, their sides occasionally brushing in a comforting way. Harry was glad Thistle was with him, because after his terrifying Minnetaree, Harry wasn't in a hurry to venture into the forest alone.

"Harry…I need to know something." Her tone was very serious, and more worried than Harry had ever heard it. They stopped, and Harry took her hand.

"What's wrong, Thistle?"

She looked at their joined hands, then turned her troubled gaze to the fast flowing river. It was flooded with rain.

"Rivers are strange, aren't they? Particularly reflections."

"I suppose so. I've never really stared at my reflection for very long."

Thistle smiled, and some of the tension drained away. Lovingly, she tugged on a wild black lock of hair that was defying gravity.

"I noticed."

After her comment, Thistle suddenly stepped closer and hugged him tightly. Surprised, Harry patted her back awkwardly. She pulled away though, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. She walked towards the river, until her front legs were knee deep. With her arms crossed defensively over her chest, she stared into the swift water. Her reflection was wobbly and distorted. "You see what I mean, Harry? Something you've always taken for granted, something as permanent as the look on your face…is different when you see it in the river. I saw you and Bane in my vision, Harry. I don't know why, but I was so shocked. I felt so betrayed. I've never been so lonely in my entire life. I don't want to loose either of you. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he caught the gist of it.

"Was your vision about our relationship? Is Bane jealous of me and you?"

She nodded silently. "I think that's what the vision was warning me about. I think he's going to challenge you. I thought…I mean to say…I've always thought that we were just friends, but in my vision…"

"In your vision he loved you?" A cold, sneering voice interrupted. Harry turned abruptly, only to realize Bane was towering over him, a murderous look on his face. "You lied last night, Thistle. This was what your vision was about, wasn't it? You love this little runt instead of me, don't you? Well I hate to be the one to break it to you, Thistle, but there's something wrong with Harry. He's not normal – are you?" Bane was so angry, spittle was flying from his mouth to land on Harry's face. He wiped at it angrily, furious at Bane's interruption but slightly afraid of the huge centaur despite himself.

"No, Bane, that's not what I meant!" Thistle was crying freely now, as if whatever she had envisioned was playing out in real life before her very eyes.

"I think that it's just what you meant. And I want to know what he has that I don't? For Reiki's sake, don't you want a stallion? He weaves baskets as if he were a…a… mare! He couldn't hunt if his life depended on it, and he's nearly smaller than you are. He doesn't just have the gift like normal centaurs. His visions are different…darker. Almost evil, aren't they? I don't know what it is, but there's something…freakish about him. Don't you see it? Why don't you tell her, Harry? Tell her about what happened that night."

"Shut up, you great idiot! Just SHUT UP!" Harry knew he didn't stand a chance in a fight against Bane, but whatever happened, Thistle couldn't know about it. It had been a long time ago. He'd been young and stupid. It hadn't meant anything, honestly, but Thistle just couldn't know. Harry would die of embarrassment. Feeling like a fool for even trying, Harry unsheathed his small blade.

Bane laughed and swatted it aside as if it were a pesky insect. Thistle had covered her ears with her hands, as if she knew what was coming and didn't want to hear it.

"We were here at the river, weren't we Harry? It was back when we were actually friends, and we never let Thistle come along with us. It was just the two of us, and we were out later than we should have been. Tell her what you told me, Harry. Tell her so she can know who you really want."

Harry couldn't say the words. Feeling tears on his own cheeks, he stubbornly looked to the forest, refusing to elaborate on the one-sided story being revealed.

"What, Harry? Too ashamed to admit it? I would be, too. You're a freak."

The word seemed to imprint on his mind. Freak. He was a freak. But he wasn't a coward. His own face red with anger and embarrassment, he whispered the damning words.

"I told him that I was attracted to him. I tried to kiss him." Harry hung his head in shame. He couldn't bear to look at Thistle.

"But that's not all. He said he'd felt that way for a long time, said he thought he loved me."

A deadly silence hung over the forest.

"And did you, Harry? Did you…love Bane?"

Harry, his hands clenched into fists, could only nod.

"Oh, Harry…I don't know what to say. Maybe the elders can…fix you…or something," Thistle's voice was confused, wary, defensive, betrayed and angry all at once.

The words hit him like a kick in the gut.

"Or something. Or something, Thistle?" Harry mocked, suddenly furious all over again – this time with her. "How about this for something. Yes, I was attracted to Bane a long time ago. I wanted him then, just like you want him now. But I don't want him now. He's arrogant, stupid, rude," Harry was stopped when Bane punched him in the jaw – hard.

He crumpled to the ground, his entire face throbbing.

"I'm normal – something you'll never be. Get out of here. No one will want you in the herd when I tell them about this. Do you think your godfather will want you in the same cave with him? Do you like him as well? I bet you watch him sleep at night, wishing you could lay with him. The elders won't fix you – they'll exile you. Consider this a warning. Leave while it's still voluntary. I don't want to have to run you off, but I will if it comes to that. Don't let it come to that. I might get too excited during the chase and accidentally hit you with a spear." At Bane's harsh words, Thistle tore off through the forest with tears streaming down her face. Crying just as hard, Harry turned from Bane and ran just as black clouds overhead let down a torrent of rain.

Harry had no intention of ever returning to the herd again.