Chapter Fifty-Two: Written in the Stars

The next day, in Potions class, Neville managed to melt his sixth cauldron, which earned him a detention. Though Daphne still didn't agree with Snape's behavior towards the Gryffindors — he also took points from Harry and Ron for unpacking their ingredients too loudly, and completely ignored Hermione's outstretched hand on every question he asked — she couldn't help but be impressed that Neville had somehow managed to melt the cauldron within minutes of putting it over the flame. That had to be some kind of record even for him.

After that, though, the fourth-year Slytherins would have their first class with Moody, and Daphne couldn't help but wonder how that was going to go. An ex-Auror, who'd made enemies of the families of many of the people in her class, teaching them about Defense. That would be fun. To her great amusement, most of her classmates elected to sit fairly far away from the teacher's desk, leaving her and Tracey the only people in the front row.

"You can put the books away," Moody growled when he'd entered. "Today, we're going to be talking about curses. Specifically, the ones that will land you in Azkaban when you perform them…unless you have a lot of money, of course," he said, fixing his magical eye on Malfoy, who glared angrily at him. His short stint as a ferret had caused quite a bit of snickering in the common room the night before, though Snape had obviously not given him any additional punishment.

"Now, I'll be expecting a lot from you this lesson. After all, some of your parents and me are…old friends. I'm sure they'll have taught you some things…"

So that was what it was like when a teacher was against you simply for being in a specific House. Interesting to be on the other side of that for a change.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy," Moody said with a lopsided smirk. "Can you name me one such curse?"

For a moment, Malfoy remained silent, and Daphne wondered if he intended to simply refuse to answer, but then he said, "The Imperius Curse."

Moody's lopsided grin became bigger. "Funny you should mention that one. Yes, indeed."

He took a jar from his desk and grabbed a large black spider out of it. Before Daphne came to Hogwarts, she might've been afraid of it. After surviving the troll, Basilisk, and Dementors, however, not to mention Hagrid's monsters, the spider didn't faze her anymore.

"Imperio!" Moody said, pointing his wand at the spider.

He made the spider do all sorts of tricks, and everyone in the class stared at it with a mix of fascination and revulsion. Much like with Memory Charms, knowing about the spell and seeing it performed were very different things, and Daphne shuddered at the thought.

"Yes, the Imperius Curse gives me total control over this spider. I could do the same to any of you, and make you do anything…this is the curse some of your parents claimed to be under while You-Know-Who–"

He sounded derisive when he used the nickname, and Daphne was sure he'd have liked to have said 'Voldemort' instead.

"–was powerful. Convenient, then, that this curse leaves no traces when done correctly."

He put the spider back into its jar. "So…what other curses do we have?"

No one seemed to want to raise their hand, so Daphne did it instead.

"Miss Greengrass?"

"The Cruciatus Curse," Daphne said.

"Correct. Also a favorite among many Death Eaters…"

He took out a second spider and enlarged it a bit.

"Crucio!"

The spider began to jerk horribly, and much like with the Imperius Curse, everyone looked at it fearfully. Moody kept his wand on the spider for a very long time before removing it, and Daphne briefly wondered if he wanted to use it on some of the people in the classroom.

"The most popular method of torture. I've had it used on me, and it's not something you will enjoy, I can tell you that…best hope no one ever does it to you. Right, then…now we're just looking for the last one…"

Again, no one seemed to want to raise their hand, perhaps fearing that Moody might comment on their family if they did, so Daphne once again raised her hand.

"Miss Greengrass again, then," Moody said.

"The Killing Curse," she said.

Moody nodded slowly. "Yes. The final, worst curse…"

He took out the final spider and put it on the table.

"Avada Kedavra!" he roared.

There was a blinding flash of green light and the spider rolled over, unmistakably dead.

"Unblockable and invariably fatal. I'm sure you're all familiar with the only person ever to survive it. Some of you even thought you might succeed where your parents' old master failed, didn't you?" Moody said, once again looking at Malfoy.

Daphne didn't think Malfoy had truly intended to kill Harry, though whatever he'd wanted to do probably wouldn't have been nice. Still, to accuse someone, even Malfoy, of attempted murder was a bit much for a teacher.

"I doubt he tried to kill Harry, sir," Daphne said.

She was well aware that everyone in class was now looking at her since she spoke up in defense of Malfoy.

"Attacking someone when their back is turned doesn't speak of good intentions, does it, Miss Greengrass?" Moody said.

"I never said he had good intentions and I wouldn't even put it past him to really try and kill Harry at some point…but even he wouldn't do it in a hallway full of people without any kind of plausible deniability. For the time being…he's not worth getting worked up about. Frankly, sir, I think you're giving him too much credit."

Some of the people in class chuckled. She could feel Malfoy glaring at her, but she didn't bother to turn around.

"Miss Greengrass, many murderers begin as school bullies. Dear old Snape can probably tell you all about that…CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody suddenly shouted, and everyone jumped.

"You can't underestimate your enemies. You never know when they might try to kill you for real. You can't assume that you'll be fine because it's only school. Even students are capable of some nasty curses and there is always scum that will attempt to use them. Know this, though: Mad-Eye Moody will not tolerate such behavior. I have my eye on all of you, and it cannot be fooled by cheap tricks. And as Mr. Malfoy will be able to tell all of you…my brand of justice hurts, because my enemies would do no less to me. Now, take out your quills…"

When Daphne sat down for lunch, she said, "So, Moody doesn't seem to like Slytherins very much. He basically accused Malfoy of trying to kill you yesterday, Harry."

"I guess they don't call him paranoid for nothing," Harry said with a shrug.

"You didn't…stand up for him, did you?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I did, actually, sort of," Daphne said.

Ron groaned. "Why? You should've just let him squirm," he said.

"Honestly, all I did was point out that even Malfoy wouldn't be dumb enough to try and kill Harry in a packed hallway. But Moody just said that you can never know when someone might actually try to kill you for real, even in school."

"So…has Moody met Trelawney yet? They might have fun predicting my death together, by the sound of it," Harry said with a shake of his head. "I know Voldemort is out to kill me, but Malfoy is just a git. If he ends up doing me in I'm glad I at least won't have to live with the embarrassment… Lucius, maybe, but not Draco."

"In fairness, Moody is all about not getting killed and always being vigilant," Daphne said. "Which might be smart anyway, if Malfoy wants revenge…and knowing him, he'll want it."

That evening, Daphne sat in the library with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, working on her homework. Divination especially was a pain. She had to make predictions about the coming month using the positions of the planets and referring to the chart she'd made in class…but the book was incomprehensible.

Harry and Ron were just making things up, and Daphne knew she could easily do the same, but she wanted to do it properly. If she really did have some kind of talent for Divination, then, much as she was sure to regret it, she wanted to know if the stars and planets could predict anything at all about her.

"There has to be someone who can actually explain all of this," she said, shoving her book away with a frustrated groan.

"Certainly not Trelawney," Harry replied.

With a glance at his work, Daphne saw that Harry would have a truly catastrophically bad month and she chuckled at some of the more gruesome events that would befall him.

Then she sighed and got up. "I'm going to see if there are any books here that might help…"

"Oh, good idea," Ron said, to Hermione's amazement. "I'm running out of misfortune…"

Hermione groaned, shook her head, and returned to her own work.

Daphne caught Harry's eye and they exchanged a grin.

Then she got up and began browsing through the books. She wasn't really sure what she was looking for, and while there were a few books with such titles as Celestial Omens, none seemed particularly useful.

Then, however, her eye fell on another book, one that, on the surface, had nothing to do with Divination at all. It was called A Compendium of Centaur Conflict, and that's when Daphne remembered Firenze, the centaur who had saved her from Voldemort in first year. She recalled the other centaurs being less than happy about Firenze's actions, but perhaps they'd be more capable than Trelawney of explaining the planets. Firenze had mentioned them to be 'watching the heavens' or something like that, anyway.

"I'm going to visit Hagrid," Daphne said.

"Want to cuddle a skrewt?" Ron asked.

"No, I'm going to ask him if I can meet the centaurs in the Forest. They're pretty big on watching the planets and the stars; maybe they can help me."

"I'm…not sure if that's smart," Hermione said. "I've been reading up on how wizards treat other intelligent beings — you know, for my House-Elf project — and centaurs really don't like humans. I doubt they'd want to help you do your homework, though I applaud the lengths you'll go to to do it properly," she added with a glare at Harry and Ron.

Daphne shrugged. "Well, if they say no, I'll do it myself. You're staying here?"

"Yeah, I've still got a week of predictions to make," Harry said. "But tell Hagrid we said hi."

"I hadn' expected yeh ter visit me by yerself," Hagrid said when he opened the door.

"Well…I'm here for homework, actually," Daphne said.

"Homework?" Hagrid repeated. "I don' recall givin' yeh homework on the skrewts…"

"It's for Divination, actually. I was wondering if I could talk to the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest," Daphne said.

Hagrid blinked. "I don' think they'll want ter help yeh, Daphne. They like ter keep ter themselves. Don' really like it when people come an' bother 'em," he said.

Daphne nodded. "I figured, but Trelawney is useless and I really want to do this properly."

She hesitated for a moment. Though her parents and friends knew about her visions in the crystal ball, she hadn't told Hagrid yet. "I…I can see things," she said. "You know how I said I 'predicted the skrewts'? Well, that wasn't a joke. I really did say you'd have a cross of fire crabs and manticores for us at breakfast. And in the crystal ball last year, I saw visions of the future, some of which have actually happened since then.

"If I'm…sensitive to things like this, I want it to be useful, at least, and Trelawney has no idea what she's doing when it comes to teaching. And now, we're studying planets, and it's more useless than ever. Firenze said the centaurs watch the heavens, so perhaps they'll be able to help me."

"I still don' think they'll want ter," Hagrid said. "They're a proud lot. They'll talk ter me if I need 'em, but they won' do anything fer humans if they don' have ter. Centuries of bad blood, yeh know."

He sighed and gave her a scrutinizing look. "But yeh won' listen ter me, will yeh? Gonna sneak inter the Forest yerself…"

He shook his head. "Alrigh', then. We'll go an' look for 'em. But if they tell yeh 'no', yeh better accept it. Centaurs aren' forgiving when they're annoyed."

Daphne grinned at him. "I promise," she said.

A bit later she and Hagrid walked into the dark forest. It gave her eerie memories of the time she'd come here in first year, and she wondered if coming here at all was smart, but if the centaurs could help her make sense of things, it would be worth it. The homework wasn't all that important.

They walked for a good fifteen minutes, until they ended up in a clearing.

"Bane, Magorian! Any o' you nearby?" Hagrid yelled.

There was a rustling at the far end of the clearing and a centaur with black hair and a black beard emerged.

"Good evening, Hagrid. What brings you here…with a foal?" he asked, squinting suspiciously at Daphne.

"Evenin', Bane. Daphne wanted ter talk ter yeh," Hagrid said. "Wouldn' take no fer an answer an' I wasn' gonna let her come here alone…"

"And what could a human foal ask of us?" Bane asked.

"Er, it's about Divination, actually," Daphne said. Up close, she had to admit Bane was quite intimidating, but she wasn't going to back down.

"We are not here to do your homework for you, child," Bane said angrily. "Typical human arrogance to presume–"

"I don't care about the homework," Daphne interrupted. "This is more important than that. Look, we have a teacher, but she has no idea what she's talking about. I…I can see things, have predicted things that came true…but I don't know how to interpret any of it. I need the help of someone who knows what they're doing, and around Hogwarts, you are the only people I can think of who might be able to."

"Yet our knowledge does not belong to your kind, child," another centaur said as he emerged from the bushes next to Bane. He had long, dark hair and a proud expression. "What we see in the heavens is for us to mull over. Humans do not share their secrets. Neither do we."

"I'm not seeking your knowledge," Daphne said. "I seek instruction on how to interpret my own knowledge. What use is knowing the future at all if you can't prepare for it? My visions only make sense to me after they've happened. I can guess at what they might mean, but what if I guess wrong? And what would I base those guesses on?"

"Do you believe you can see the messages of the heavens, Daphne Greengrass?"

A third centaur had entered the clearing, with a palomino body and blond hair.

"Firenze! It's…good to see you," Daphne said, with a glance at Bane and the other centaur. "To answer your question…maybe. I don't know, because I've never really done it. We're supposed to do it, but the book makes no sense at all…"

"That is because it was written by humans, whose understanding is severely limited," Firenze said. He looked at Bane. "Why not give her a chance? The heavens reveal their secrets to all who know how to look. If she can see their message at all…perhaps she is worthy of instruction. We need not reveal anything we have seen ourselves, after all."

Bane looked unhappy, but said, "Very well, then. Child, follow us."

He looked at Hagrid. "You may come as well, Hagrid. The students of the school should not be here unattended, and you were wise, at least, to accompany her."

"Thank yeh…" Hagrid muttered, somewhat sarcastically.

They went deeper still into the Forest, far deeper than Daphne had ever been, until they eventually came to a clearing much larger than the one they'd been in earlier. In its center was a tall, wide stone platform. A spiraling walkway led to the top, which almost reached the top of the surrounding trees.

"From here, we gaze at the heavens," Firenze said. "We come here when we want to take in all the messages they have to tell us. We will accompany you to the platform, and you will look at the night sky. You will describe what you see, and no more. Do not attempt to interpret your findings."

Daphne nodded slowly and followed the centaurs up the spiraling ramp. Hagrid remained at the foot of the platform, and Daphne saw he looked uneasy. She reached the top of the platform and looked around. The view truly was amazing. It was a clear, cold night and there was almost no moon, and hundreds of stars glimmered in the sky.

"Look, and tell us what you see," Firenze said.

Trying not to feel embarrassed by the three centaurs closely looking at her, Daphne turned her head upward and gazed at the stars. She didn't really know what she was supposed to see, so she just let her eyes wander across the sparkling lights, trying to see some constellations she knew from Astronomy…and for some reason, words just seemed to bubble up in her mind as she looked at them.

"Mars baits the brazen bull while the serpent bearer rises, unimpeded by the fading shield. The swan dims as the chasing eagle brightens, and the king's pleas fall on deaf ears."

She blinked a couple of times, and then looked at the centaurs. "Er…something like that," she said awkwardly. Where had those words come from? What did they even mean?

"Interesting," Bane said. "Your reading appears to be correct."

"Correct? I don't even know why I just said those things," Daphne said.

"And that is why it is correct," Firenze said. "Your reading was spontaneous, open to the message, even if you don't fully comprehend its meaning. Therein lies the beauty of the heavens, and their great danger."

"So how do I interpret it? Is there any way for me to…to use this knowledge? Or will it be one more occasion where I'll have predicted something, and only realize what it meant when it's already too late?" Daphne asked.

"It is a difficult question to answer," Firenze said. "Discerning the true meaning of any message is something that takes time and practice. Even we cannot foretell all ends. Yet we have seen the same portents, though 'voiced' differently."

He glanced at Bane.

"A great mistake your kind often make is to ascribe a meaning to a sign too readily," Bane said. "You do not contemplate, merely seek to arrogantly use the wisdom for your own ends."

"It isn't me I'm worried about," Daphne said.

"No, the message you have read makes that clear," Bane said.

"It…does?" Daphne asked.

"Glimpsing the future at all requires one to have focus even in emptiness. The object of that focus determines the message revealed. We centaurs strive to remain neutral, to see only those things of great import and no more…You are not a child of prophecy, and so we did not expect you to receive any messages at all. Most humans wouldn't, regardless of what they claim. The fact that you got a message from the stars tells us two things: that you are indeed sensitive to the future, and that your current focal point is steeped in prophecy, even if you are not," Firenze said.

"Yet perhaps, if meaning is what you seek, you are better off turning to other, more earthly methods of Divination than stargazing, Daphne Greengrass. We cannot claim to know the true interpretation of what you saw. All we can tell you is that the message is real."

"So…what can I do, then?" Daphne asked. She felt anxious, and the circular talk of the centaurs was doing nothing to ease her mind.

"The message you received is meant to be interpreted by you, Daphne Greengrass, as it was relayed to you. You must do what you believe to be right. All I can tell you is that you must learn to identify your focus in emptiness. From there, you may begin to shift it, and your interpretations will follow suit. The mundane, everyday future is seldom revealed, even in earthly methods of Divination, but for those who can see, it can be done, to a certain degree.

"Learn how to do this, to match the meanings of your visions and messages to the events that occur. Learn to see their significance, to truly appreciate the impact of each thing that has come to pass, and you may find yourself able to interpret signs correctly. Yet it is by no means certain, and is something that should be used with great caution," Firenze said.

"This is all we can share with you, human. It is more than we have shared with many others, so you should feel honored," Bane said.

Daphne inclined her head. "Thank you for showing me this, at least," she said. "I will…consider the things you told me."

They descended the spiral ramp, and Daphne rejoined Hagrid. She thanked the centaurs again, then set off with Hagrid back towards the school.

"Did yeh see anythin'?" he asked anxiously as they left the clearing.

"I did…" Daphne replied.

"Was it helpful?"

Daphne shrugged. "I wish I knew…"

While the words she'd spoken were still fresh in her mind, she was no closer to knowing what they meant. All she knew was that she had a very bad feeling about them.

While the constellations I mentioned in Daphne's vision (Taurus, Ophiuchus, Scutum, Aquila, Cygnus, and Cepheus) are visible from Scotland in September (unless, of course, I checked the chart wrong…) the meanings I ascribe to them are made up. I mean, their position in relation to each other really doesn't change much year-to-year. It just happened to work out nicely, in this case. Again, Daphne will learn to see non-canon things, but for now, I'm going this route.

Also, yeah, Hagrid allowing Daphne into the Forest is a bit of a handwave, as he's obviously not supposed to. There are probably better ways of handling that, but in this case…I just wanted to get on with it, and I do think he'd rather supervise her than risk her going in alone.