Thank you Schermionie for the idea for this pairing!

"Darkness…shadowy figures, but so indistinct, my Sibyll, what is wrong with you?" Professor Trelawney muttered to herself in frustration as she leant forward and gazed intently into a large crystal ball filled with a smoky, swirling mist. "What can it mean? Am I losing my Sight? I have lost everything else, I suppose … my authority…half my job…" a deep frown crinkled her forehead and her lip began to stick out in what looked distinctly like a pout.

She peered irritably into the ball, her dozens of glittering necklaces swinging gently. The lamp-lit, incense-filled room grew stuffier and more heady with each passing minute.

"Ah, but wait…here, a new shape appearing…it looks like an animal, yes, perhaps a deer, or a horse…no, it is a man… oh for heaven's sake, Sybil!" She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the small table as she did so. "I need some fresh air," she declared to herself. "This is just getting ridiculous!"

And she swept across the circular room, her beads and overlarge glasses glimmering crossly, and made her way down the ladder. And she walked down towards the front doors and the Hogwarts grounds, with the vague idea of taking a stroll….

oOo

At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a young centaur stood gazing into the trees. His head was held high and his back was straight and proud, but his shoulders were tense. Firenze had left his herd for the company of humans, and knew well the punishment the other centaurs would give him should he be discovered outside the castle and within range of their arrows and slicing hooves.

But Firenze, though he was as wise as any centaur, was not content within the castle. His heart longed for the sunlit glades and rich, earthy air of his forest home, and while a room allotted to him in Hogwarts had been enchanted to seem like a woodland clearing, his soul was restless. He needed to feel the sun-warmed, crumbling earth beneath his hooves once more, needed to rest his head against the living wood of a young beech tree. He needed to be where all centaurs belonged. And that is the reason that Firenze was to be found that fateful summer's day, stepping quietly and gladly into the peace of the Forbidden Forest, just before Professor Sibyll Trelawney came sweeping across the Hogwarts grounds, her gauzy skirts trailing, her bangles tinkling, and looking as insubstantial as a silvery moth in the bright sunlight.

oOo

Firenze did not go deep into the Forest, for he was wary of being discovered by his own kind, and being unable to escape from the trees. He moved a little way into the trees and then stopped, shielded from view by a large beech. Slowly he rested his flank against the ancient tree and sighed. He was lonely, and missed the company of his own kind, but he knew that he had forfeited the right to live ever again in a centaur herd. So he stood alone, and he gradually sunk into peaceful reflection, as is typical of the centaur-kind. The soft piping of a tiny, unseen bird floated to his ears, and he listened to its music, smiling slightly.

He was completely unprepared to hear a voice cry out loudly and angrily on the other side of the tree. A crashing of twigs preceded a long string of swear words which only stopped when the alarmed centaur stepped out from behind the tree.

Professor Trelawney, who appeared to have caught one her many long scarves around a young sapling, squawked in fright as she saw the majestic form of Firenze appear in front of her, his longbow raised. An arrow was fitted and the string was already pulled taut

"Oh! Don't shoot, don't shoot!" she screamed, frantically fighting to disentangle herself from the tree, and Firenze paused.

"Forgive me," he said, lowering his bow. "I had thought you to be one of my own kind."

Professor Trelawney huffed. "I, a horse? I most certainly am not."

"No," said Firenze quietly, and with a hint of anger. "I see that. And neither am I."

"Well, whatever you call yourself, can't you go away and leave a body in peace?" said Trelawney peevishly, as she continued to struggle with her knotted scarf.

"I believe you are distressed," said Firenze. "Allow me." He took the scarf between his strong brown hands, and skillfully unwound it from the branches of the tiny ash tree.

Professor Trelawney did not thank him, but stood mulishly waiting for him to leave. Firenze stepped away from her.

"I would advise you, human, never to call another centaur a horse. Others would take the insult much more sharply than I. Now, I believe you wished for me to leave you, so good day." Firenze inclined his head, and began to move off.

Trelawney stared after him for a moment, then called out after his retreating back, "What are you doing here anyway?"

Firenze stopped walking, but did not turn around.

"I thought you could not leave the castle in case you were hunted down by others of your kind?"

Firenze stared into the darkened trees. "That is so," he said simply.

"Then how come you are out here, now?" Trelawney said, her voice rising higher with every word. "Why, you – you lied to the Headmaster! I bet you are going back to make a report to your herd – you are a spy!"

Firenze spun around, his hooves coming down with a crash upon a fallen branch. His eyes flashed in fury as he shouted, "Human, do you not know the meaning of manners? You insult me, you do not thank me for my aid, and now you brand me a spy! Do you not understand that I might simply long for peace, for the quiet of the woods where I have lived all my life? My life is in danger every moment I am in these trees; my herd will not hesitate to kill me should they ever realise that I am here! I am sorry if you feel I have intruded upon your teaching job –"

"Yes, you have," muttered Trelawney petulantly.

"- but unless you wish me dead, you must see why I have to remain in the castle!"

Trelawney looked slightly abashed. "I didn't mean I wanted you dead," she said. "And I see you are not a spy. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, but you, who laugh at my crystal-ball gazing, my art with cards and tea leaves and palm-reading…."

"I do not believe in your human methods of foretelling what is to come, said Firenze, his pale golden hair shining in the sun filtering through the sheltering leaves. "But equally you do not believe that the centaurs' age-old skill at star-gazing, our practice with herbs and fires and smoke-shadows."

There was a moment of strained silence, then Firenze sighed.

"I think, human,that we must have a truce." He moved towards Trelawney, and stretched out his hand towards her.

After a long moment of hesitation, Trelawney took it. And as those hardened, strong fingers clasped her own, Trelawney felt a frisson of some strange emotion suddenly shoot right through her, making her back tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck lift. She shook the centaur's hand slowly, and for rather longer than necessary. It was so long since she had had contact with another being…she was so rarely in the main castle, preferring to shut herself away in her tower room, and her pupils never stayed longer than they had to. In fact, Firenze was the first person – centaur, she corrected herself – she had touched for a very long time.

Finally, Firenze pulled his hand out of Trelawney's shaking grasp. "There is peace between us now?"

But his question was never answered. There was a sudden, swift whizzing sound and a hard thunk and an arrow was suddenly quivering in the tree right behind Firenze's left ear. The centaur turned slowly, his torso tense and suddenly gleaming with sweat. Professor Trelawney gazed at it.

"Fraternizing with humans again, Firenze? Making truces with humans? Well, well, well…"

Three centaurs moved out of the shadows, their bows raised and arrows ready.

"Do not do anything rash, Magorian," said Firenze quietly, addressing the nearest centaur, as he pulled the bowstring even tighter. But even as he spoke, Firenze was moving backwards in fear. He came up against a large log, which blocked his path, and with a sinking feeling of dread, Firenze realised that he was trapped. His heart thumped in his chest as he faced his former friends. He was of course brave, as a true centaur should be, but when one has three deadly-looking arrows trained directly on one's bare chest, well, one can be forgiven for feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Don't touch him!" Trelawney had found her voice. She looked slightly wild as she stood there, necklaces jangling and hair frizzing out behind her.

"Human, you would be wise to leave now before we kill you, too," snapped the second centaur. "This is centaur business." And his fingers tightened on the bow-string.

Firenze looked desperately around him, seeking some sort of escape, and found none. But just as the arrows seemed about to fly, Trelawney's voice rang out.

"Impedimenta!"

She swept her wand in a great arc with her shaking hand, and for a moment, the centaurs were frozen. Firenze instantly reared up, crashed through the trees, extended a hand which Trelawney grasped (with, of course, a great deal of pleasure) and helped her swing herself onto his back. As Magorian and the other two centaurs began to fight off the curse that bound them, Firenze swung round, cleared the great fallen log in one tremendous leap, and galloped away, out of the trees and into the sunlit grounds.

"You saved my life." The words fell simply from Firenze's lips as he turned his head, addressing Trelawney who had clung desperately around his waist as he had run through the forest. Now, oddly, she seemed reluctant to let go, even though they had come to a halt.

"Would you like to get down now?" asked Firenze, looking down at the slender womanly hands clasped around his stomach. But Trelawney had only heard the first thing that he had said.

"I saved your life - and you can save mine!" she breathed radiantly, looking younger than she had in years. She Saw now, clearer than she had in year, that she would no longer be a lonely woman, confined to a tiny room filled with soft light and sickly perfume.

"I do not understand you," said Firenze, his bright blue eyes fixed on Trelawney's face.

"Oh, my dear Firenze, I think you owe me a favour in return for me saving you back there," she said breathlessly.

"I owe you my life, Professor," said Firenze. "I must repay my debt. What do you wish from me?"

"Oh – just, perhaps – this…" said Trelawney, with a soft giggle, and suddenly, daringly she leant forward, and kissed Firenze's lips before the centaur had time to comprehend what was happening. One quick kiss, one startled intake of breath later, then she spoke.

"We are both misfits," whispered Trelawney to the silent, amazed centaur. "Laughed at by our own kind, ridiculed…it must be a Sign…

She bent forwards and kissed Firenze again, properly. She was slightly surprised, but full of joy, when the centaur did not pull away.

"I will tell the future for both of us," said Trelawney quietly, after a long moment. "I see us in many years time, still together…do you not have the same Vision?" Firenze made no reply but to pull her closer to him, and to bring their mouths into contact once more. And as the afternoon faded and twilight approached, two lonely souls, two outcasts, found love and harmony together...