CHAPTER 10

Neither Harry Potter nor any of the characters associated with him belong to me. They are JK Rowlings. I'm not in this for the money, just for fun!

0000000000

Safehouse:

Rebecca brushed in the last spec of paint to finish the sky, and she was finished. She had made a stunning painting of the garden in the house where she was staying. The painting was pretty realistic, and was a burst of colour from all the sunshine and colourful flowers in bloom.

Normally, she would be proud of her work, especially with all the praises she was receiving from the Aurors stationed there for her protection, but considering that this was the third painting she had done of the garden, she could probably do it with her eyes closed. In truth, she was sick and tired of it, and longed to paint something different.

She had asked Firenze if he wouldn't mind posing for her, like he had done all those years ago in the forest, but he had politely refused, saying that he had to keep watch. Though she had the sneaking suspicion he had really refused because he hadn't actually enjoyed the posing the last time, and probably felt it wasn't dignified.

Part of her wished that it would rain, as at least then she could paint the garden in a different setting, instead of summer again. She knew she should be grateful, as the Aurors and Firenze hadn't exactly been happy with her spending so much time outside. Despite all the precautions they had taken, she knew they feared the Centaurs could arrive anytime, and they didn't want Rebecca out in the open, making herself an easy target for them.

'Maybe I could try painting something from memory,' she thought. 'Like Mount Rushmore or something?'

"Rebecca?"

She looked around in surprise, and saw Harry and Ron standing behind her, their faces grim.

'Oh no,' her emotions sinking further. 'Now what's happened?' Despite not having seen either of them in a couple of days, she had begun associating their visits with the coming of bad news.

"Harry? Ron?" she greeted them, standing up. "Something wrong?"

Harry sighed. "Yes and no," he said. "It's about Dolores Umbridge."

She raised an eyebrow. "You have some news about her?"

"Yeah. Since we last spoke to you, we've now confirmed that she was definitely the one working with the Centaurs and everything. She was also most likely the same witch who tried to abduct you back at the Ministry."

She sucked in her lower lip nervously. "You're certain?"

"Yeah, we… Well, that's the other bit of news we had to tell you."

As she looked curiously at them, Ron picked up where Harry had left off.

"You remember those calls we had, from people saying they had seen Umbridge in and around Trafalgar Square? Well, we checked it out, and it turned out they were right. Seems she had been staying in some vacant shop near there. She purposely strolled out in the open, to get someone from the Ministry to go after her, so me, Harry and a few others went to the shop she was hiding out in. But when we got there…" He paused.

"What?" she asked.

"Well, like I said, she had purposely been baiting us to go after her. When we got there, at the shop, she kinda…well…blew herself up."

"She WHAT?!" She stared at the two of them in shock.

"She exploded herself, using magic," explained Harry. "From what we can tell, the crazy woman must have lost her mind trying to get her revenge against us and the rest of the magical community. She somehow found out about you, and after learning where you were, must have told the Centaurs, thus inciting this war. It was all part of her plan to get revenge on everyone for her imprisonment."

"How do you know?"

He reached into his pocked, and pulled out some paper. "She wrote and told us." He handed it to her. "It was in the shop, where she had been staying."

Rebecca unfolded the letter. When she read what was on it, her eyes widened in shock and disgust. She knew, from what Harry and the others had told her about her, that she had been a twisted and prejudice woman, but even so…

"She was willing to start a war…a whole war…just because Centaurs and people were getting along, and muggle-born wizards were allowed to get high-class jobs?" she uttered in disbelief.

They nodded.

"Umbridge long ago made clear that she was willing to do anything to get what she wanted," said Ron. "Her time in prison obviously did not change that trait in her. In fact, if anything it seemed to strengthen it."

"But…are you positive that it's her, though? You said there were ways a person could disguise themselves."

"Polyjuice Potion, yeah." Harry shrugged. "That was our first thought, too. But we had all the Ministry Healers check the body. We even had Hermione concur with them, just to be absolutely sure. They tested it, but found no trace of Polyjuice whatsoever in it. And all the tests confirm that the body is that of Dolores Umbridge, nobody else." He looked at her almost sadly. "There's really no doubt about it, Rebecca. The body was definitely Umbridge, and she did do all those things."

"I just can't believe someone could be so vindictive, so heartless and cruel. Didn't she know that this war would hurt everyone, not just those she think wronged her?! What about her family and friends? Surely she must have known they'd be hurt, too?"

Ron scoffed. "Umbridge had no family. If she did, then none of them turned up at her trial, or even went to go visit her in prison. And as for friends; the only ones she would come close to consider that, were the ones who ended up in prison with her."

Harry looked at Rebecca, and seemed to see that she was having trouble digesting all this, which he could understand, as he had gone through the same thing himself once.

"When I first met Umbridge," he told her gently, "I thought for sure she had to be a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers. Because in many ways, she was what he would have considered perfect Death Eater material. But as it turned out, as foul as she was, she wasn't with him." He gave a comforting smile. "My Godfather once told me that the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters, which I have to admit until then I had always believed. The fact is, as horrible as it sounds, there will always be just as many bad people out there, as there are good people, and Umbridge was simply one of the bad."

"I just can't believe anyone would go so far as to start an entire war, risking millions of lives in the process. It's utterly ghastly!" she said in disgust.

Harry moaned. "Believe me, when the war with Voldemort started, I met many kinds of people I would never have believed existed. Many of them did things that even Umbridge would have probably got sick at…" he added quietly at the end, "…though not many I bet."

"What happens now?"

"We have to find a way to get you out of Britain," said Ron. "Back to your home in Italy, as it's the safest place. It's way too dangerous here now. But we'll have to do it the muggle way."

"Can't you just do that Apparating thing?"

Harry shook his head. "Apparition only works up to a certain range. It gets more difficult the longer the distance you have to travel, and only the most skilled wizards travel inter-continental, let alone international."

Rebecca nodded, a little disappointed, though at the same time relieved. She didn't really fancy travelling by that Apparition thing again, as it had made her sick the first time.

"What about Portkeys?" Ron suggested. "They can travel over long distances."

"We'd need to make one, and to do that we'll have to get in touch with the Ministry of Magic in Italy, and…"

"I'm sorry, what?!" She stared at them both, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Italy has a Ministry of Magic, too?"

Ron looked baffled at her, while Harry just smiled.

"Every country has its own Ministry," he explained. "Magic is really just as common as what you muggles do every day. They just keep themselves hidden because…well…"

"Muggle prejudice?" she guessed. At his uncomfortable look, she waved at him. "Don't be embarrassed. Firenze told me years ago about what muggles did to your people, as well as other magical creatures. It's sad, though hardly surprisingly, as let's face it, humanity has never had the best reputation at dealing with what they consider the unknown."

At Harry's nod, Ron added, "I'll tell Kingsley, and get him to make contact with the Minister in Italy."

"Terrific," Harry muttered. "Knowing all politicians, they'll probably take ages just to set a meeting to discuss the thing."

Ron coughed loudly into his hand, and made side-glances between him and Rebecca. Harry didn't realise what was wrong with him until he finally realised.

"Aw hell!" he said, looking sheepishly at her. "I'm sorry, Rebecca. I didn't mean…" He had forgotten that her father was a politician.

She smiled. "It's alright. I've heard all the old jokes before, growing up. Besides, you're probably right." She then looked serious. "But what are we going to do?"

"Just what we said, contact the Ministry in Italy, and hope they allow us the rights to make a Portkey to there."

"Why wouldn't they?"

Harry scratched his chin nervously. "News of the Centaurs' uprising has been making news all across the magical communities in other countries. If we were to send you back to Italy, there is the chance, however small, that if the Centaurs were to find out, they might…" He paused, but he didn't need to finish, as Rebecca could guess.

"The Centaurs might decide to follow me there, and in turn bring all the trouble that you're facing here, to Italy." A terrifying vision of Florence in flames, with people screaming, and armed soldiers, muggles and wizards alike, fighting Centaurs, filled her mind.

"You can't send me back home then," she said blankly. "Not when it might put peoples' lives at risk."

"It would be the same type of risk even if you were to stay here, Rebecca," said Ron. "But at least in Italy, you'd be farther away from the trouble."

"While you and everyone else would be here dealing with it!" she snapped, and then immediately hushed up, looking distressed. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Harry assured her. "But your safety is our number one priority, Rebecca. You know what'll happen if the Centaurs get hold of you."

"And I know what will happen if they don't," she countered. "It's already turned to war, and the only reason it hasn't escalated is because they haven't found me yet, and no one has taken up arms."

"Which will never happen," Harry promised her. "No one in the magical world wants this war, and all Aurors have the strictest orders not to attack them on sight. And I'm sure deep down the Centaurs don't want this war either. They're just proud and stubborn, and don't like to admit when they're wrong."

"I know that all too well, Harry, as I told you once. I also told you they'd never quit either." She turned around, looking out across the garden.

A few moments later, she heard the clip clopping of what sounded like a horse's hooves coming up the garden path. She didn't bother turning around.

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley," Firenze's voice said. "Would you please give us a few minutes alone?"

She listened to the pattering of the two wizard's footsteps, as they walked away, giving them their privacy.

"I know what you're going to say, Firenze," she told him. "We've been here before, remember? I know full well what your herd will do to me when they catch me, what they have planned, and what the rest of my life will probably entail."

"Then there's little point in me saying it all again, is there?"

There was a long silence, in which Rebecca stared at the garden, while Firenze looked straight at her.

"I assume you heard everything just now?" she asked eventually, though it was a theoretical question, as she knew one of a Centaur's many traits was their excellent hearing.

"Yes."

"Then you know what has to happen."

"No, only what you choose to happen."

"What choice is there, Firenze?!" She looked at him, exasperated. "Your race will never give up on me, and unless I give in, it'll mean total war and chaos around Britain!"

"It will mean that anyway, even if you do give yourself in. Harry Potter knows only too well the meaning of self-sacrifice, and he would never allow anyone else to go through with it if it could be avoided."

She snorted, ignoring the nagging question she had of what self-sacrifice Harry had gone through. "It's my life, and I can choose what I can do with it."

"Even without Harry Potter's opinion in the matter, all those in the Ministry would not willing stand by and allow an innocent like you be taken by force. They would do all in their power to retrieve you."

"Even sacrifice their own country!" she cried out.

He sighed. "This isn't just about you, Rebecca. Many innocent lives were lost during the war, and the Ministry is filled with those whose good friends, family and allies were among those lost. They are not willing to do nothing, and allow another family to lose a loved one. Not when there's still something they can do about it."

Rebecca pouted in frustration, turning around to look at some of the garden's flowers again. "This isn't right, Firenze," she said quietly. "I never wanted anyone, let alone a whole country, to fight over me."

"That's something else you share with Harry Potter." He added when she turned to look back at him. "During the early years before and during the war, Harry Potter had many of his friends and allies who willingly risked, and even sacrifice, their lives for him. He carries that burden to this day, but in the end it was their free choice. They knew the risks of their decision, but cared enough for him to take them."

"But they don't even know me."

"They know the fear of being hunted and threatened, and they understand the pain of losing people they care about. They do not want your family to go through the same thing many of them did, and for you to lose your freedom, which is what they all fought for in the first place. If they were to simply allow my herd to take you, then everything they fought for would have been meaningless. For true freedom means nothing unless it is shared by all."

Her lower lip trembled. "I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me, Firenze."

He stepped up to her. "I know. But every life is precious, my Rebecca, including yours. My herd, alas, has forgotten that, which is something your race has over us."

A tear escaped her eyes, and she felt Firenze move his hand up to her cheek, as he gently wiped it off. All that did, however, was move her to allow more tears to shed.

Firenze embraced her then, enfolding his strong arms around her. It was the first time he had done this in weeks, and she had to admit that she had missed it. She had almost forgotten the feel of the muscles in his arms, and the soft touch of his hair that covered his body.

He gently caressed her back with his one hand, while his other moved up to her cheek, tilting her head up to his. As he looked down on her with those striking blue eyes of his, he started to lower his head down, his lips moving to hers…

"Wait!" she yelped, pushing back from him in an instant.

"What is it?" he asked, staring at her in concern.

'Okay, that's it,' she thought. 'No more stalling. There's no one here besides us, and it's been weeks now. It's not fair to him.' She took a deep breath, and then said out loud, "Firenze, there's something I need to tell you."

He looked at her silently, and then backed up to give her some space. "What is it?" he asked.

She looked hard at him, and then took a deep breath. "Firenze, I'm sorry, but…I've mistreated you."

He gave a blank look. "What do you mean? When have you ever mistreated me?"

'Since several weeks ago,' she said to herself. "By not telling you the truth," she explained, and looked at him sadly. "Firenze, when you and I first got back together, I… Well, you said it yourself, remember? When we got together, it awakened some of the old feelings we had years ago, and…well…it got me confused."

"How do you mean?" Firenze's voice was not threatening, angry or accusing, yet it made Rebecca feel anxious all the same.

"What I mean is…" She sighed miserably. "Firenze, during those last few days we were together, all those years ago, you made me feel something for you I hadn't ever felt for a guy before. Maybe if things had turned out differently, we could have even become a couple. But as you know, they didn't. I ended up leaving, and I thought for certain I would never see you again..." She paused for a second. "So I got on with my life, lived it to the fullest, like you told me, and…"

Firenze said nothing, and just continued watching her, waiting.

She opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish, desperately searching for the right words to speak, but it seemed fate was being cruel to her today. 'Or giving me what I no less deserve,' she thought dis-heartedly.

"While I was in Italy," she began anew. "…When I was working at the museums, I…I met someone."

Still Firenze made no move, and said nothing.

"His name is Antonio," she explained. "Antonio De Santis. He works at the museum, restoring faded artworks. That's how we met. We've been seeing each other now for over a year, and…just before I left Italy, to come home, he… We're engaged!"

She knew she shouldn't have said that last part so suddenly, but she had been so tongue-tied, it had just burst from her. She was almost expecting Firenze to start roaring in anger, maybe kick his legs out from under him in a frenzy, or at least start shouting at her. But instead, all he did was stay standing where he was, staring at her with those heart-wrenching eyes of his, his face betraying no signs of emotion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally spoke.

"I tried." She felt like wailing, as what she was saying was so pathetic. It sounded like something she would have said when she was still in middle school. "But…when I saw you again after so long, I felt some of the old feelings rise up in me again. I got confused, feeling as I did when I was last with you, and…what with your herd after me and everything, I liked being with you, like I did before. You are and have always been a great source of comfort to me, Firenze. I was overwhelmed, and I guess I just mistook the past for the present, confusing the feelings that I used to have for you, with the ones that I now have."

"But those feelings of confusion didn't last, did they," he said.

"No," she admitted guiltily. "After you kissed me, I realised almost immediately that we no longer had what we used to. That moment passed us by long ago. I just hadn't realised it until then."

"So why didn't you tell me then? Why wait until now?"

"I've been trying." She felt like sobbing. "But I was so scared of how you might react. I kept wimping out every time I got close to telling you. And each time after I finally gathered enough bravery to speak to you, something would happen, like the Centaurs attacking, one of the Aurors calling you over, or you being on watch-duty. I… " She groaned. "It just…never seemed to be the right time."

She kept silent then, and just stayed looking at the ground, not daring to raise her eyes to Firenze's. Never before had she felt so ashamed, guilty and low. Firenze was her one greatest friend, ally and confidante, and she had betrayed him in the most despicable of ways.

When a full five minutes had passed, and still no words were spoken, she heard Firenze turn around and start walking away from her.

"Firenze!" she said, finally looking up in distress. He paused where he was, but did not turn around to look at her. "I'm… I'm sorry. Really I am. I know I should have told you straight away, but…I didn't know what else to do."

When he still made no move to speak or even look at her, she continued.

"I wish I could take it all back, do it all different," she said, feeling like one of those actors on those stupid soap operas. She had always thought the lines they used were ridiculous, and now here she was using them herself. "But I can't. I wish I could, but… I'm just… I'm so sorry."

Another few moments passed, and then Firenze just continued on his way out the garden, not even stopping to look back at her.

Rebecca slid to the ground, as tears starting to pour down her face.

0000000000

Two Days Later; 0615AM:

The next two days were the longest of Rebecca's life. Firenze had not spoken to her at all since her confession, not that she could blame him for that, and since all the Aurors were busy with their own watch-duties, and Harry and his friends were still busy trying to keep a lid on all the Centaur sightings in London, she had had no one to talk to.

The Centaur sightings were becoming more and more frequent. A lot of the wizards and witches were all looking worn and tired, having to be out at all hours, to keep the Centaur's existence a secret from the muggles. Despite their obvious tiredness, a lot of them seemed sure they could handle it.

That was one thing that Rebecca had noticed about most of the wizards and witches in the Ministry…a lot of them were mostly deluded. They were proud, stubborn, and even a few of them really arrogant. They seemed positive that they could handle things. She didn't know whether it was their arrogance talking, or possibly their fear that another war might soon be on the horizon.

Unfortunately, with what Harry and Ron had told her, it didn't sound like the rest of the magical community would have long to wait to see if war with the Centaurs would be coming. She was still surprised that it hadn't already. She had thought for sure, after that dumb kid Imogen had blasted them at the Burrow, the Centaurs would retaliate.

Rebecca moaned slightly, as she walked downstairs to the kitchen. She normally wouldn't get up this early, but she was hoping to bump into Firenze before he went to sleep for the morning. Centaurs had very odd hours, as they usually preferred to stay up all night watching the skies. However, they obviously had to sleep sometimes, and had to be up at least some time during the day, to hunt the typical animals that lived in the forest, and were easier to catch during daybreak.

Firenze was no different from the rest of his herd, as he kept watch during the night, yet only slept a quarter of the day, got up, patrolled again for a bit, and then went back to sleep for another few hours, before getting back up again for the night. He used to spend a lot of that time with her, to talk, with the exception of the last two days.

She made it to the kitchen, and looked outside the window. She soon spotted one of the Aurors idly walking through the garden, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, but there was no sign of Firenze yet again.

"Good morning?" a voice asked, making her jump.

"Oh!" she gasped, and turned around to see Mr. Grimm standing at the hallway entrance. "I didn't see you there."

"Just came in from the living room," he said, yawning. "Got off shift three hours ago. Spent them catching up on a few Zs in that armchair in there."

"Oh, you could have had one of the spare rooms surely?" she said, looking at him in concern.

"Nah," he waved his hand at her. "Prefer the chair. More comfortable, and it's by the window, where I can spot danger more quicker if it's coming."

'Charmingly delightful as always,' she thought bemusedly.

"Has Firenze gone to sleep yet?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "He went out a little before dawn."

She looked at him, startled. "Went out? Where?"

He shrugged. "Beats me. There's been some more sightings of Centaurs near here, so he said he was gonna go and check them out. Don't worry, though, as he knows how to stay out of sight. Mr. Potter made sure of that."

As well as possessing the same sort of magic that the rest of his herd used, to remain hidden in the muggle world, Harry had also given Firenze some upgraded spells and charms, to aid in his concealment. The Ministry didn't want to take any chances with him being spotted as well.

She sighed sadly, and replied, "Thank you."

He looked at her oddly. "You and he have a tiff or something?"

"Something like that, yes. I was hoping to have a chat with him, and sort it out. But I think he's avoiding me."

He scoffed. "Ruddy Centaur never avoids anything. Rarely even takes a break. Tell you what, if we had more Aurors like him, I could safely retire. Though I doubt there's any chance of that anytime soon."

"Why? Has something else happened?" She looked at him in alarm.

"Just the usual, more Centaurs appearing here and there. I know those nags have their own means of staying hidden, and they have a little bit of magic of their own. But how the devil they manage to travel all the way around Britain, without even a wizard spotting them, I'll be damned if I know."

She frowned at his words, wondering the same. Although she didn't know exactly where Hogwarts was, she knew it was a fair way from London. And since she couldn't imagine the Centaurs taking a bus or train, they had to have started travelling from their home by hoof a long time before getting to the city. Plus, there was the question of how they had managed to get to the Burrow so fast? Even if they were told right after she had first got there, it still should have taken them at least a day to get from London to Devon, assuming they didn't have to keep stopping to hide themselves.

Then again, she had only seen Aonghus in London, while Magorian, Ronan and Adair had been at the Burrow. Perhaps the herd had split up, spreading over the country to get a better chance at catching her.

"I don't suppose you know how fast Centaurs run, do you?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "They run a little bit faster than the Kentucky Derby racehorses, from what I've been told, but not a great deal."

"What about communication?" she asked, suddenly realising something. "Assuming this Umbridge told them where I was, how would she tell them, and how they would let the rest of their herd know?"

Again he shrugged. "Umbridge was a witch, so she could tell them by any number of magical ways. As for the Centaurs, apparently they send messages the same way that we wizards do, with birds. Only we use owls, while the Centaurs use hawks that they've trained."

"Hawks?" she said in surprise. "I don't remember ever seeing any at their home when I was there."

"Firenze says they let the hawks fly free, as the Centaurs aren't big on keeping animals captive."

'Don't seem to have a problem doing it to humans, though,' she thought.

"The only time when the Centaurs use them is when they need them, which isn't that often, since their herd rarely leaves the forest. From what Firenze says, they only ever used them once in a while to communicate with the other Centaur herds around the country. Since they started going after you, though, the hawks must be having a real workout, flying to and from each of the Centaurs in the herd."

"Oh…nice to know the hunt for me is giving the birds something to do at least," she muttered sarcastically, gaining a laugh from him.

At that moment, a loud crack of a whip-like sound aired in the room, and Harry appeared before them, looking out of breath.

"Hey?" he said, indicating Grimm to stand down, and waving hello at Rebecca.

"Hey, you got any news?" she asked.

"Nothing good I'm afraid," he replied, looking downtrodden. "We've contacted the Ministry of Magic in Italy, but so far it's going like we'd expected. The Minister there says he sympathises, but basically he's worried that granting asylum for you might entice the Centaurs to go over there, and cause trouble."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. 'Typical politician,' she thought. 'Sorry, dad.'

"Kingsley is trying to come to an agreement, but so far it's looking less and less likely," said Harry, walking over to the breakfast bar, and checking outside the window. "Looks like every country in the world knows about the Centaur situation, and are trying their best to distance themselves from Britain all they can."

"Same as they did during the war," Grimm snorted, seemingly in disgust. "Bunch of pansies."

Harry spared him a glance, and Rebecca couldn't help but notice him give a slight nod of his head, as though agreeing with him.

"We can only stay here a couple more days," he added. "The owners will be back by the weekend, and we've had reports of Centaurs searching near here. So we need to move you to a new safehouse."

"Where will that one be this time?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"Don't know yet," he replied in a regretful tone. "But we've already got several possibilities lined up, so don't worry."

She gave him a small smile, but said nothing.

"Where's Firenze?" he suddenly asked.

Luckily, Grimm answered for her. "He heard about the Centaurs getting closer here, so he went out to investigate. Don't worry, he's using the illusion charms you gave him. Really dedicated protector he is, that nag. Though I can't say I admire him for his choice of bedding."

Firenze preferred to remain and sleep outside, and had made a reasonably comfortable spot, for himself, near a small orchard of apple trees, which provided some cover when it rained, and some rosebushes.

"Fine, I'll talk to him later. I'll arrange the new safehouse with Ron, and get back to you once we've got somewhere set up. Oh, and, Grimm, I'll be sending some replacement Aurors to take over. It looks like we're going to need you on the south side. Centaurs have been popping up over there."

Grimm gave something that sounded like a cross between a snort and a shout of glee. "Finally! A chance to stretch my wand-arm at last."

Harry nodded. "I'll be sending two replacements over. Imogen Griffin and Meredith Pan."

"Huh?!" Rebecca looked up in surprise. "Pan and Griffin?"

He nodded. "Since it was Umbridge who was the one behind your attacks and everything, they've been cleared of all charges. They're also two of the only witches available to help guard you."

"As long as they don't go blowing anything up again," she said, grumbling.

"I've spoken with Imogen about that," he said assuredly. "She admits she overreacted…"

"Overreacted?"

"She hasn't had a lot of experience out in the field, don't forget. She panicked. But she's been made aware of the consequences, should she attempt such a spell again, risking war in the process. And she's to report to Miss Pan, who is to be in charge of her."

"The squealer?" She looked unsure at him.

"She's a touch panicky, too, I admit, but she's at least been trained to think first and shoot later."

She frowned, but finally nodded. She knew it was unfair to keep blaming them for something they were not guilty of. The only person at fault was Umbridge, and she was now gone for good.

"I'll be sending them over in an hour from now. Ron and I should have something set for you by the end of today. Keep your chin up till then. And under no circumstances should you leave this house unless me, Firenze or Ron are with you. No one else, okay?"

She half-smiled, nodded, and then watched him as he Apparated away.

0000000000

One Hour Later:

Rebecca waited, as the kettle came to a boil. She didn't know if Meredith and Imogen had had breakfast yet, but she had put the kettle on in case they would like a cup of tea when they arrived.

She had just poured the hot water into the teapot (she preferred using that instead of just pouring straight from the kettle), when she heard a knock coming from the front door in the hall.

"Stay there!" Grimm whispered to her urgently from the other room. He already had his wand out, and was heading toward the hall. Luckily, the front door was solid oak, and had a peephole, which was possibly another reason why this house was chosen to hide in.

She waited in the kitchen for a few moments, silently holding her breath, as though any moment the sounds of the front door being shattered would be heard, followed by hooves galloping through the house.

"It's okay, it's them!" Grimm's voice called out to her.

She heaved a sigh of relief, and quickly finished the tea tray, adding two small plates of cakes and cucumber sandwiches. She also made sure there was plenty of sugar, as she remembered Imogen liked to have plenty with her tea.

When she walked into the living room, she found everyone waiting for her. Imogen was there, looking as dark and depressed as ever, and Meredith with that all-too-familiar fake smile once more plastered upon her face. It seemed entirely alien on her, which was probably why it never lasted there for long.

'I wonder if she sleeps with a coat hanger in her mouth, to get it like that?' thought Rebecca, but smiled and greeted them warmly. "Hello, Miss Pan, Miss Griffin. Wonderful to see you both again."

Imogen, of course, remained quiet and emotionless, giving her a slight nod as her acknowledgement. Meredith didn't lose her smile, and said "Hello," back to her.

"Well, that's it for me," said Grimm, gathering his wand and cloak. "I better get to the Ministry, and see what they need me for. Say ta-ra to Firenze for me."

Before Rebecca could say "Sure," or "Goodbye", he had already gone, Apparating into thin air. The moment he'd gone, Meredith's smile had dropped from her face, and she took her tea from Rebecca.

"Thank you," she said, and took a sip from her cup. "I trust you've been made comfortable here?"

"As well as can be expected," she replied.

"Good-good," she said, taking another sip. "I only hope you've had a better time than we've had these past few weeks. Under surveillance they've had us, since that terrible business at the Burrow. They actually accused us of being in league with the Centaurs! As if we'd help start a war that could…"

"Now, now, Miss Pan," interrupted Imogen. "They didn't actually accuse us of anything. They just asked us some questions, that's all."

"Followed by taking us off duty, and having a number of Ministry employees keep tabs on us," she added shrilly. "Only for it to turn out to be Dolores Umbridge all along. Can you believe that? After all this time, she had been hiding in plain sight from the Ministry."

"Did you know her?" asked Rebecca.

"Everyone who ever worked at the Ministry knew of Dolores Jane Umbridge, my dear. Whether it was personally, or merely in passing, there wasn't a single Ministry employee who didn't cross paths with her at least once a day. She was the Senior Undersecretary after all. Seemed like quite a delightful woman…" She paused. "…That is, I thought she was, until the war that is. Still can't believe what she did to all those poor people. She always seemed like such a sweet woman."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Imogen said quietly, stirring her tea.

Over the next couple of hours, they talked idly over the most mundane of things, which even a muggle would find boring, from the weather to everyone's health, taking time out to occasionally check the house perimeter.

Rebecca had made one or two attempts to ask more interesting questions, if only to relieve her boredom, like enquiring about Umbridge from Meredith. But, apparently, she had no interest in raking up anything from the past, especially about a "despicable and loathsome woman like Dolores Umbridge," as Meredith put it.

Imogen remained as quiet as always, offering only the odd "Mm-hmm", "How interesting", and "May I have some more tea please".

The only other mildly interesting part of their conversation was near the beginning when Meredith had nervously asked if Firenze was there. Rebecca had looked on in amusement, at the way she had kept sneaking glances at the windows to the garden, as though expecting to see Firenze's tail there. Obviously, she hadn't forgotten her last comical meeting with the Centaur.

Inwardly, Rebecca longed for Firenze to return, as she was still most anxious to speak with him. Not only in the hopes of salvaging their friendship, but also to get away from these two incredibly boring witches.

By the time the clocks struck 0900 in the morning, she was wishing she was still talking with them about their boring topics. For less than one minute before the clocks in the house started chiming, Meredith had been about to start talking about yet another new subject (what it was, Rebecca never found out), when a loud crash came from the front of the house.

"Wha…?" Rebecca started to ask, but Meredith was already up with her wand.

"Stay down!" she ordered, and hurried to the front window, looking out. Apparently, the Ministry had given her some re-training in dealing with aggressive situations.

Another crash sounded, but this one had come from the back of the house this time. Imogen grabbed Rebecca, practically dragging her to the kitchen, where there were fewer windows, but from where she could still look out onto the garden.

Outside, there were five Centaurs, all of which were fighting the spells from the other Auror who had been guarding the rear of the house. Unfortunately, the poor man didn't last long. He couldn't, what with only one of him, and so many of them. One of the Centaurs had galloped up to him while he was restraining the other four, and knocked him out with a hard blow to the head. The moment he was down, they immediately started heading towards the house.

There were more crashes then, again coming from the front, and Meredith's high-strung voice yelled out, "Call for help!" Her voice was barely audible, though, because of the loud roaring sound of several angry males, the twang of bows, and the sound of what must have been arrows hitting the walls and doors.

"We need to get out of here," said Imogen, as she reached into her robe.

Rebecca could only stutter. "B-b-but Harry said I-I-I shouldn't l-l-leave…"

"I'm pretty sure this counts as special circumstances!" she replied, a little harshly compared to her usual monotone voice.

One of the windows shattered, and Rebecca could only nod in agreement, fear having consumed her.

As Imogen fumbled around in her robe, looking for whatever it was she needed, Rebecca could only stare at the chaos around her; the house shook like it was in the middle of an earthquake. This all reminded her of the Burrow, and…

Suddenly, something clicked inside her head. This was the second time that the Centaurs had found and attacked the place where she had been staying, while she had been under the protection of these two particular witches, Imogen and Meredith.

But Harry had assured her that that Umbridge woman had been the one responsible for the attacks and everything. They had found undeniable proof that she was the one. Why would Imogen or Meredith…? Unless it wasn't Imogen or Meredith!

She suddenly remembered the woman, Vanessa Darnell, who had tried to abduct her from the Ministry. Everyone all assumed that she had to have been Umbridge in disguise, but what if she hadn't been? What if she had been the real Vanessa Darnell all along, working together with Umbridge?

Fear, paranoia and panic were starting to take her over, as Rebecca realised she was trapped now in a house with two witches, who might actually be trying to get her for the Centaurs.

'But if that's true, then why haven't they just handed me over to them?' she thought, as she realised that with the other Auror unconscious (or at least she hoped he was just unconscious), the witches could simply hand her over to the Centaurs, and be done with it.

The answer came to her in an instant. 'Because only one of them is working with the Centaurs, and doesn't want to reveal herself to the other!'

The loud neighing of the Centaurs came from the back of the house, and Rebecca shrieked as she heard the shelves in the kitchen being banged about, as one of the herd kicked the outside wall.

"Keep calm!" said Imogen, though her own voice sounded far from it. She continued searching through her pockets, and Rebecca couldn't help but wonder what it was she was looking for, and how small it could be, considering the size of the girl's pockets.

Her fear and impatience almost got the better of her, and she was about to snap at Imogen, asking her what it was she was after, when she heard a clatter come from inside the girl's one pocket. It almost sounded like…a pile of books falling over?

"What the…?"

"Darn it!" said Imogen, and then pulled her wand out of her other pocket. As she did, a tiny flash of light sparkled off it, briefly dazzling Rebecca.

"What's going…?!" she started to say, but before she could finish, she stopped and watched as Imogen pointed her wand into her other pocket, and recited, "Accio!" A second later, what looked like a common shoebox, and which looked way too big and bulky to fit into her robe, seemed to spring up from her pocket and into her hand. However, that was not what had caused her to pause.

That tiny flash of light, which had come from Imogen's wand…she had seen it somewhere before! It was the kind of light seen when reflected off the surface of something shiny, like glass or crystal. She racked her mind trying to remember where she had seen it, but at the moment she had no time left to ponder.

"Hurry!" said Imogen, almost frantically. "Touch this!"

She opened the box, to reveal unsurprisingly a shoe inside, though it was definitely not brand new. It looked like the kind of shoe one would see at a garbage dump, or at the bottom of a river.

Rebecca spared the old shoe a glance, and then stared hard at her. "Not even if you paid me," she stated.

"Just touch it, now!"

"Not in a million years! That thing's disgusting."

That was true, as the shoe had definitely seen better days, but that wasn't the only reason she was refusing to touch it. For all she knew, this girl could be working with the Centaurs, and she couldn't chance that.

'But what if it's not her?' she thought. 'It could easily be Meredith, as she's never been at ease around Firenze.'

She frowned, as she thought desperately to try and figure out a course of action. Normally, the safest course would be to remain there until Harry, Ron or Firenze returned, but the Centaurs outside were making that difficult.

"I have to stay here," she said finally. "Harry told me to remain here, no matter what."

The sound of the backdoor splintering open was heard, and Rebecca jumped in petrified fear.

"We have no time for this!" hissed Imogen. "Do you want to stay here and risk being captured by those half-breeds?!"

"No, but I…"

"Stupefy!" Imogen suddenly cried out, and Rebecca had just a second to watch as a jet of scarlet light shot out from the tip of Imogen's wand, and struck her in her chest, before she mercifully lost consciousness.

Her final thoughts before she went under were, 'Okay, definitely not Meredith.'

0000000000

Rebecca moaned, as she slowly came to. Her head ached like in the aftermath of a hangover, yet she clearly remembered not having a single drink.

"Feeling better, dear?" a voice said from above her.

She opened her eyes, and looked up to see Imogen staring down on her, a smile, which looked as equally fake as Meredith's, on her face.

"My apologies for the Stunning Spell, dear, but you really were most uncooperative."

She groaned, as she tried to get up, but found her arms and legs bound. "Huh?"

"Oh yes, sorry about that. But I couldn't very well risk you getting up and running away from me now, could I?" said Imogen, as she walked uncaring around her.

Rebecca looked around herself, and found that the two of them were by the edge of what looked like a vast lake. There appeared to be some lights glowing in the distance across the lake, but they were too dim for her to make out. The lake was huge and black, no doubt due to it being nighttime.

'Nighttime?! Just how long have I been unconscious?'

As she looked around more carefully, she found nothing but trees on all sides, indicating they were in a forest somewhere. That alone told her where she was, as there was only one forest she could think of where this girl could possibly want to take her.

"We're in The Forbidden Forest, aren't we," she stated calmly, far more calmer than she felt.

"Very clever, Miss Leicester!" said Imogen brightly. She seemed to have gained more personality since Rebecca had been out. She had lost her gloomy attitude, and her words were louder and brighter, like her friend Chloe.

"You've been working with the Centaurs all this time," she said accusingly, glaring at the younger girl with venomous eyes.

Imogen lost a little of her cheery attitude, and stared down at her. "Not by choice, you must understand. I only did what I had to do. Things to set right, after all."

"Things?! What things? You, your friend Vanessa Darnell from the Ministry, that Umbridge woman, and your four-legged buddies have been chasing me for weeks now!"

"Those half-breeds are most certainly NOT my friends!" the girl suddenly shrieked, glaring straight down at her, making Rebecca cringe slightly. There was something demented about the way Imogen was looking at her.

"They are nothing but a bunch of filthy half-breeds!" she continued, almost hysterically. "I only used them because I had no other course left open to me! The only course that the Ministry left for me!"

Rebecca didn't like the way Imogen was waving her wand about, particularly when she was still so close to her. After a while, though, she seemed to calm down, as she took in deep breaths.

"But…let's not talk about that now. After all, I wouldn't want them to hear me disrespecting them, not when I'm supposed to be their friend." Her attitude was once more a sickly sweet overtone, like she was talking to an infant.

"Why are we here, Imogen?" Rebecca asked fearfully.

"All in good time, my dear, all in good time," Imogen said, waving her off. "But first, I think introductions should be made. For even though you and I have spent quite a bit of time together, we have never been officially introduced."

"What do you mean?" She looked at her as if she had gone mad, which was a distinct possibility, judging by her current actions. "We have been introduced. Ages ago."

"No, no, my dear," she replied, that ever wide smile on her face. "You only know the name of the face that I now wear, but not my true one."

"What? What are you talking about?!"

Imogen made a short bow before her, as though she were at a debut. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Leicester. My name is…Dolores Jane Umbridge."

To Be Continued…