Hagrid was terrified. He had heard the scream, Fang returning practically running into his legs, whining in his throat. Chasing him, a flash of blond told him it was the Malfoy kid, eyes blown wide and stumbling with silver blood on his clothes. There was worry building in him, questions and stuttered answers. Malfoy looked like he had seen the devils spawn. He might as well have if what the Slytherin said was true. There was fear and guilt in his eyes speaking quietly how he had left Harry behind in a fit of terror. There was shaking in his too small limbs; wand gripped in white knuckles. He didn't blame his actions. He was only eleven; even if the news terrified him.

Just as he was getting ready to storm the forest to rescue Harry— He had full trust in Aragog to protect the kid if needed, they were near his nest after all, but even he knew the spider had its limits— The sounds of hooves on grass and gravel interrupted him, a centaur stepping from the trees, and in his arms—

"Harry!" He stumbled his way over hands hovering over the very quiet (body? No, no he had to be alive.) child.

He looked at the centaur, one of the younger folk he had seen out and about hunting during the day. Nothing but a blank face and a tilted head.

"'S' he a'right!?" He asked, gruff and worried, the accent he always held seemed a lot stronger now.

"He is. The blessing saved him." The centaur lifted his arms higher, prompting the half-giant to take Harry (He was so light and small, It was terrifying.)

"Th' blessin' did?" A tug on his jacket and he looked down, a trembling child at his feet, looking up at the one in his arms. He spared an arm to pat the malfoy child on the head. Malfoy was a child. Awkward reassurance was all he could give.

"Yes." The centaur nodded, before gesturing to Hogwarts castle and saying, "Though it is best you take him to your Healer, I am not too sure what has...happened to him." Before Hagrid could ask anymore, namely on what he meant by something happening to the kid, he was already backing up, retreating into the darkness of the woods. He could only gape, blinking. It took another tug and stuttered words barely heard as he immediately whistled for Fang. The big dog rumbled up to his side, and Malfoy clung to the dog's fur, silver stains on his sleeves shone under the lamplight. Despite the Fangs cowardice, he was a loyal dog willing to follow most orders and was what some considered somewhat comforting.

"C'mon Mr. Malfoy, we're heading back." He turned for the castle doors, practically sprinting for the castle. Malfoy ran to keep up, staying quiet out of fear, Fang helping the kid.

The giant's heart was heavy.

Merlin, he should have never taken the children with him. Headmasters orders or not.

Firenze has been prepared, bow already in one hand, an arrow loosely held in the other. He heard the screams, heard his brothers' warnings, and slowly moved forward, ready to save the soon-hero of the Magical world. There was something different in the air though, in the earth beneath young hooves. Causing him pause, glancing to the night sky for a final confirmation. The stars had shifted. He stilled.

The centaur's world burst into light.

For several seconds he had to shield his eyes, bow still held but arrow long forgotten. Loud thunder, and the whispers of ancient, sacred magic.

The Blessing had come.

Stunned, he stopped, watching as they moved as one and yet chaotically at the same time, circling the young child. Another look to the stars, eyes squinting before attention returned to the world.

There was terror in his veins and he did not know what to do.

He couldn't do anything. Wouldn't do anything, because now, now the stars were unreadable. The forest distracted him, telling their thoughts in tandem with the unicorns before him

A foal was dying. (Dimly, in the back of his mind he could hear the child screaming, yelling out words of healing, but he could not help, could not approach.

He did not know what to do.)

The bow was put away, silently watching. A rustle of bushes informed that two others, Bane and Ronan, had joined him, having followed to try and stop the determined Centaur. They were equally silent at the revelation. Revelation? No, this was something that was always there. A potential that not even the Centaurs had noticed. It was terrifying, for someone as young as himself.

He did not know what to do.

The forest held its breath. The coats of the blessing were cast over with green light, magic that even if he could not see, knew it came from the child.

He didn't notice that his own breath was held, not until nature breathed again and he almost collapsed on his hooves. His brothers did not fare any better but he wasn't giving much attention to them. One of the blessing, a male, from what he could identify from the horn and body was staring at him and Firenze gave a start, hooves shifting. There was no malice in the unicorns eyes but even he felt uncomfortable under a purity's stare. There was a quiet judgement mixed with charged unsaid emotion.

Mourning Silence.

The unicorn huffed pawing at the ground and bobbing its head. As if on cue the sound of Thunder broke the quiet, and the unicorns moved, parting like the sea of red before that of Moses. Parting before Firenze. They wanted his help.

A few feet ahead he saw what he knew was there. Before the young centaur was the child. The prophesized— was he still? He didn't know anymore. Not knowing was starting to become a scary familiarity to him.— the boy was curled up, passed out with no unicorn colt to be seen. He didn't question it, too many of his words already clogging his mind, dying on his tongue. Hesitantly he moved, as if a force was controlling him, compelling him to once more take the child and bring it home. Complete what he was going to do.

Careful, carefully, he scooped his arms under the boy. Standing and watching as the sacred ones began to move their thunder, their lightning, their purity, slipping back into the forest's embrace. The light they brought with dissipated into nothing, leaving no trace of their involvement save for a puddle of shining blood. Shakily he released his second breath, moving forward to where he could hear the half-giants footsteps. His brothers came near him, steadying his stumbles, not saying a word with empty faces. But he knew. He knew like any who could read the stars knew.

They did not know what to do. Only helping out of shock and some hidden obligation that the trees insisted on.

He shook his head to them as Hagrid came closer. Best not to give away anything, to not tell of what truly happened. That much he could read of the magic in the earth. They nodded, for once listening on the same plane as him and once he was steady, moved back into the brush while Firenze spoke to the very much panicking half-giant.

They would talk of it more to themselves later. And— as he moved the child into Hagrid's care— perhaps he'll learn more of this child. To have changed what had been set in the stars so easily? That was something to stay close to. Something to protect, even.

For now though, out of sight of the half-giant, and out of sight of his brothers he sighs, rubbing his head to stave off his exhaustion. It had felt so short yet the turmoil he could feel in the skies and the earth were far from over.

May the ancestors guide them.

You see, the thing about a star's predictions is that oftentimes, they are vague for a reason. Too much details causes unwanted change; too little and it'll be far too late to fix the mistakes that occur. Nonetheless, they are predictions to a solid future. A future that will always happen, one way or another. A future that Centaurs and Prophets, Seers and Watchers knew and forever followed. They lived through its roots and branches. Living a story long since written, a script by the bored and unknown.

That's how this story was supposed to go, of war and love lost; of pain and of anger; of a sacrifice for the masses that will never understand. That was a story that others knew were for the best. But here, in the writings there was a difference. An ink drop spilled to blot the words, the stars muddled and mixed.

A single hesitation, a stumble as Malfoy falls to the ground, and of a boy taking a single step in front of the terrified kid, resignation and fear in emerald eyes.

"Get Hagrid, Malfoy." He had whispered, and it took a single heartbeat before the blonde stood, screams on his lips and magic forgotten, running for a man he scorned merely hours ago. Ultimately ruining whatever meager stealth Harry held, and catching the attention of the monster.

Time was extended just a little longer for one Harry Potter. This universe shifted and sighed, never fair, but always kind. Just an extra minute was added. You all know the rest that happens.

After all Blessings were quite powerful and the only thing that was needed for them to work was Time.

A/N:

Hi. 3? I'm maybe around.

I'm gonna tweak things a bit as obviously this was an impulse post but I'll work with it. I hope you all don't mind.

My writing is going to jump all over the place depending on what I'm thinking so my apologies for that.

It's been so long since I wrote... anything really.