Disclaimer: Characters and settings still belong to JK Rowling and her associates. No one I've ever met. And do I really need to add I'm making no money out of this? Okay, I'm making no money out of this.

A/N: Excerpt from Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening".

ooOOoo

Chapter 85

Someone was screaming.

"Harry! It's okay, we're through. You can shut up, now… Harry!"

The screaming stopped, but Harry's throat was raw. His eyes seemed to have been welded shut by the pain in his scar.

He was falling now. Sliding sideways. His foot banged against something hard – shouldn't his foot be in it? He grabbed at something – anything – and his hand scrabbled at a smooth surface. The smooth surface shifted and then the world jumped to the left. Most of the world. Someone else wasn't quite in sync with the rest of the world and that person was holding on around his waist, pulling Harry off balance. An enemy?

Harry thrust his elbow backwards into something soft, and someone cursed in his ear.

Malfoy.

Wasn't Malfoy an enemy?

Malfoy was fighting him… Harry's head was splitting with agony so Malfoy was taking him to Voldemort…. No, Harry had caught the Snitch and Malfoy –

"Potter, you idiot – stop fighting me!"

They fell, hitting the ground hard, winding Harry.

"Oof!"

"Ow!"

Harry retched for air, aware that Draco was right next to him also gulping for air as helplessly as a Grindelow out of water.

Something went thumpetty-thump next to Harry's head. The fall had knocked his eyes open. He stared around wildly. There seemed to be a centaur in front of him – that made sense. He had some memory of a centaur in his recent past. But the hooves were smaller and neater than those of a centaur, and since when did centaurs wear silver shoes?

"Get… reins…" Malfoy gasped.

Reins?

The hooves danced back, and Harry looked skywards just in time to see a horse – a horse? Simon! – to see Simon whirl away. Simon glowed blue with a silvery light. So did the trees and the barrier beyond them. They were in the Forest – outside the barrier – and Simon was – Simon was running away…

Harry struggled for breath. "Simon," he wheezed.

Crawling to his hands and knees next to Harry, Draco hissed, "Simon, come back!"

Did he hear them? Simon pranced to a halt, but his attention was riveted not on the boys but on the shadows moving towards them from between the trees.

The horse snorted and lowered his head, torn between fight and flight. The reins dangled, dragging on the ground as the instinct to run took over.

Simon stood on them.

His head jerked. There was no snap of breaking straps, but the horse stopped.

He must think someone's holding him back, Harry realised, dimly astonished at the inability of the horse to work out something so simple to a human.

Simon turned but trod on the reins again and stopped, his ears flicking in confusion. He tried again and this time managed to break into a trot.

"Simon! Don't leave us here!" Harry squeaked. He'd almost got his breath back but his feet were another matter. And what were those shapes moving towards them? Simon was worried by them and they weren't close enough for even the unicorn-enhanced sight to show what they were.

Simon had found his bearings and was trotting now; trotting away from Harry and Draco.

Snap! went a rein.

Simon halted, mouthing at the bit anxiously. The jerk of the bit must have been quite painful.

Draco scrambled forward and grabbed at the rein still attached to the bit. Simon shied away, but the Slytherin was faster. "Got him."

Simon danced around him in a circle, eyes rolling at the moving shadows, but Draco, himself keeping one eye on the trees, took a firmer hold on the headcollar, which they'd left on under the bridle. "Whoa there, boy," Draco said, but his voice shook with nerves.

Harry couldn't blame him.

Draco took out his wand. Simon shook his head at the sight of it and tried to rear, dragging Draco back along the trail towards Harry, who rolled out of the way.

"Don't let him stand on my broom," yelped Draco.

The broom was out of trampling range. Draco must have dropped it right after they came out of the barrier. Harry staggered over to get it – they were probably going to need it for a quick getaway. Hopefully whatever was coming wasn't airworthy… although how would Harry ever face Luna again if he abandoned Simon?

More by force of will than anything else, Draco dragged Simon back towards the barrier and Harry. "Can you see what's coming?" the Slytherin muttered.

"No. Too big to be spiders."

"Simon's really scared."

They were speaking in whispers now. Harry found this painful. His throat was raw, but it seemed counterintuitive for it to be harder to speak quietly than at the louder, normal level. "Think it was the barrier? What was he like when you rode through?"

"Well, I wasn't screaming. I couldn't hear anything when we were in there but you sounded pretty upset when we came out."

"Was that me?" Although it'd explain the sore throat…

"Yeah."

"I… I thought You-know-who was with us. It felt like he was sticking his fingers in my brain. Providing his fingers are made of red hot pokers dipped in tabasco sauce."

"Oh, I just had the being flayed alive thing. Again. But for some reason I couldn't scream. Nothing manly, just… I couldn't scream because I was frozen with the pain. Same old, same old… Trust you to be weird. Told you you're a freak." He managed a shadow of his old smirk.

Somehow this made Harry feel better. If Draco was complaining and/or still insulting him the world hadn't completely tipped off its axis. "So you think I scared Simon?"

"You scared thirteen hexes out of me. Thought you were possessed. Do you think he knows where you are?" Draco sighed nervously, peering into the darkness, probably, like Harry hoping that whatever that was out there would pass them by if they stayed still long enough.

Harry half-closed his eyes a moment. "I don't know. Best if I don't really think about him too hard, though. I have the feeling he's aware I've crossed the barrier, but I don't know how he did it. Or if he can trace me now I'm out of it."

"Yeah, but…wait – …damn. They're definitely coming this way… Shh…" Draco lifted his wand into the classic cursing pose, keeping a tight grip on Simon's headcollar. Harry stepped forward and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder for a moment before Harry ducked around to the other side of Simon. Just in case.

The heavy, almost sub-sonic pattering like giant raindrops falling on the forest floor grew louder. It rustled through beds of ferns and there was splashing as many feet crossed a stream.

Simon tried to rear again. The horse shook its head and Draco held tight, his face set. Harry didn't bother saying anything trite like 'don't let him go' because it was obvious this was the last thing Draco wanted.

He eyed Simon carefully. The horse's ears were laced back in a menacing fashion and the upper lip twitched to show the suspicion of teeth. Under the unicorn-glow Simon's coat glistened with silvery echoes of the charm in his shoes and his eyes were matt with shadows of things Harry had never seen outside dream, with green glowing in their depths. Had the barrier altered their horse? Harry had the horrible thought that this was the original Simon: not just the one who'd come to them in the Forest, but the one who'd nearly killed Draco when Draco was thrown into his pen; the horse before Luna had worked her magic and tamed him with a headcollar and an apple; the horse that acknowledged an owner who wasn't Harry.

Harry took a step forward, but Simon reared again, this time with determination so great that Draco gasped as he was almost lifted off his feet.

"Stay back, Harry," Draco warned from between gritted teeth. He was busy trying to manoeuvre his wand so it wasn't sticking into Simon's throat. He had almost dropped it in the frantic grab for the headcollar. "He wants you to stay here."

But Harry had realised that about the same time as Draco and was already falling back to stand by Simon's neck. "He was going to run off half a minute ago," he hissed over Simon's withers. Harry rested a hand on Simon's shoulder. The muscle was hard as the bone beneath it and the hide was damp. Harry patted the horse, but Simon's attention was fixed on the Forest around them. The bit jingled noisily as the horse mouthed at it. So much for whispering: they should have put a muffling spell on the tack.

"Yeah. Horse logic."

"What? He can leave us but we can't leave him?"

"That would be the horse logic, yes. Can you see what it is?" Harry still on the back foot from the barrier, was imagining some sort of giant millipede. Hatched from an egg Hagrid had bought from some bloke he met in a pub.

"I don't know what it is, but they are all around us.

There was a crackling as huge shapes moved through the undergrowth. The deer trail they'd been following led into denser bush, and there were many things moving closer through it.

"Whoa, Simon," Harry said, his breath whooshing out in relief. "It's okay, Draco – put your wand away. They're friends."

"Yes, but do they know that?" Draco whispered.

The centaurs emerged from the trees.

Harry had half been expecting more unicorns. He should have guessed from their meeting with the centaur Tigris that they would be greeted by more centaurs. But Harry's dealings with them hadn't always been affable. Bane was the one who'd –

"Harry Potter." A dark, scowling centaur stepped forward. Think of the devil.

Harry bowed his head politely as his heart sank. "Bane."

"You found a way through the barrier." This was another centaur. One much more welcome.

Harry smiled. "Firenze. Glad to see you're alright, sir." He'd known the centaur as Professor Firenze throughout the latter half of the previous school year and never been corrected over the honorific.

Another centaur curled its lip. "The wizard colt calls you 'sir'?"

Harry decided it mightn't be politic to remind them that Firenze had taught Divinations last year at Hogwarts. They'd driven him out of the herd for that crime.

"He has always been respectful to myself and our kind." Firenze's eye lingered a little longer on Draco, who was still holding tight to Simon. "Draco Malfoy."

"Professor."

Centaurs stamped their hooves in disgust.

Simon swished his tail defiantly and tried to rear against Draco's weight as the horse took offence at the centaurs' body-language-suggestion (right now it was equivalent to two raised fingers) that his colts were in some way inferior. And Harry tried not to wince too obviously at Draco's impolitic choice of address.

Firenze almost smiled. "I would not have thought to see you two in company." He turned back to Harry, who was stroking Simon's neck in an effort to calm the horse down. Simon shook his head and glared at the centaurs. He couldn't run, not with Draco holding onto him, so the stallion was getting aggressive. The horse was unnerved by so many centaurs, and Harry couldn't blame him, but he hoped Simon didn't get too aggressive.

He wouldn't attack the centaurs, would he?

Who, Simon? Attack? Simon the easy-going cuddle-bunny?

He reached for the headcollar, gripping around the cheekpiece of the bridle for extra control, just in case the horse tried to attack the entire herd. "But then," continued Firenze, his gaze lingering on the horse, "stranger partnerships have been seen in these strange times."

Harry stilled. "Er… you're not going to tell me there are centaurs who are supporters of… um…" He trailed off.

"Supporters of the Dark Wizard?" a grey centaur snorted, offended. Magorian, Harry thought his name was, but he couldn't quite remember. The only other centaur whose name he knew for certain was Ronan, but while there were a few bays and browns and even a spotted centaur he couldn't see the red-headed centaur. How many centaurs had been isolated on the other side of the barrier, and how many had died in the battle? No-one had told him. And before now Harry hadn't thought to ask. The grey was still speaking. Harry made himself pay attention – best not be accused of disrespect here and now. "Supporters of vermin wizards? Is that what you were going to accuse us of?"

"He would not, Magorian." Firenze shook his head. "Do not be alarmed, Harry Potter. We were called here, but not by evil. We sensed the gathering of unicorns across the barrier, and you three bear their willing blessing. Only the purest of the pure could summon an entire herd of centaurs for a common cause."

"Especially where wizards are involved," Bane snapped. "You'd better be here to break this wizard-perpetuated blasphemy against the Forest."

Simon pranced, trying to put himself between the young wizards and the centaurs. Draco and Harry tightened their holds on bridle and headcollar. "We're here to break the barrier, yes," Harry said. "But we also need to warn Hogsmeade that You-know-who is going to attack it. Very soon. Within an hour or two as a matter of fact."

"Wizarding squabbles," a centaur said dismissively.

Harry's grip tightened. He stroked Simon's nose, more to remind himself to stay calm than to calm the horse. "It was reason enough to bring us here," he said softly. "I don't consider breaking the barrier more important than saving the lives of an entire village."

Bane reared. "Then you are a fool!"

Simon bucked, kicking out at the air, and then tried to rear again. He made that odd hoarse squealing noise Harry had heard him make when he attacked the spiders, and struck out with his front hooves.

"Would you mind stepping back a bit?" Harry asked, very alarmed now. One hoof had snagged his cloak and nearly nicked his shin. If Simon hadn't had careful aim Harry would have been sporting a broken tibia. Bane had already stepped back half a stride at the horse's outburst, but it wasn't enough for Simon, not by a long shot. Simon had very nearly lifted Harry and Draco off their feet and was now pawing at the ground, digging a trough to China. His veins were standing out over his hide and the muscles of his neck and shoulders bulged. Harry was beginning to worry about the state of the shoes. "You say you've been called here to help," he panted, "but he doesn't think so."

The centaurs stiffened. Only Firenze gave a nod to show he understood. "We unnerve the horse," he told them.

Bane gaped at Simon. "We unnerve him? We're not the ones –"

"You are correct, Firenze," the grey interrupted ponderously. "Bane. We are too many and a beast of direct thought such as a horse would see us as a threat to himself and those under his protection. Step back."

Bane snorted, sounding a great deal like an affronted Simon, but obeyed.

"Perhaps we may speak in a greater space?" Magorian suggested. "Come. There is a meadow with sweet grass. It is on your way." He turned and walked off down the track Harry and Draco had been following, his silvery tail swishing behind him. The other centaurs fell into step behind him.

Harry and Draco exchanged eye contact over Simon's neck. The moment the centaurs turned to go Simon had stopped tugging at the headcollar.

It took some urging by Harry and Draco, but eventually they got the horse moving forwards without resorting to smacking his backside with the broom's bristles, something (as Draco pointed out to counter Harry's half-hearted suggestion) for which neither broom nor horse were really designed.

Harry was just pleased Simon was moving forward without charging off over the horizon or dragging Harry under his feet. He would have liked to have fixed the rein, but Simon was in such a tizz it wasn't worth the risk of taking out his wand. He untied the leadrope from around Simon's neck and hoped Simon would remember his manners to walk at Harry's shoulder instead of on it. Or any other part of Harry's anatomy that might come to hoof.

But he shouldn't have worried. Once moving, Simon stalked along at Harry's side, ears flickering to catch all the sounds of the Forest, nostrils twitching to take in its smells. The Forest they passed through now was all mature trees with space between them, and the trail was wide enough for them to travel three abreast and see for some distance between the trees.

Harry could see no unicorns, but he didn't stop looking.

On his broom, Draco glided along on Simon's right. Funnily enough Simon had never seemed upset by brooms. Like the Squid and flying blankets coming to land on his back, it was a part of the magical world this Muggle creature had no argument with.

(Harry did note that Draco seemed to have his wand out – only one hand was on the broom. The other was out of sight, suggesting that Draco had the presence of mind to keep his wand out of Simon's judgmental eye.)

"Think there'll be any spiders this side of the barrier?" Draco murmured.

Harry hadn't thought of that. "Good question," he said slowly. "Let's hope no spiders come along to answer it for us."

"Mm. But would any be daft enough to confront a herd of centaurs?"

"They've confronted Simon a couple of times. That shows they're not rational creatures."

"Good point. But I expect we'll see them first – look! A Bowtruckle."

"We wouldn't have seen that without unicorn blood on our eyes."

"True," said Draco with a measure of satisfaction leaking into his voice. He went silent a moment before saying with less assurance, "Ah… maybe that's not something we should go around telling everyone."

"What? Oh, don't worry about them. You can't steal the magic from the unicorns – it has to be blood given with their blessing."

"I was thinking more along the lines of it's kind of disgusting having someone smear blood on you, no matter what the source."

"Oh." Harry paused as Simon glowered at the Bowtruckle, which had twitched. Horses weren't meant to have great night vision, but it seemed that Simon's eyes were just as magically augmented as Harry and Draco's. That was a relief, although it opened up whole new realms of things for the horse to shy over. Harry made sure his feet were out of range of Simon's. "Yeah. Let's leave the blood part out of the story we tell any journalists. I really don't want Rita Skeeter writing an article on how my teenage angst is being made manifest in shocking blood rites. Stop that."

"What?"

"You were thinking of telling Rita Skeeter my teenage angst is being made manifest in shocking blood rites."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"Okay, maybe just a little bit."

"See. Told you."

"Those shocking blood rites are making you psychic, Potter."

"No, that's the teenage angst. And if you go telling stories to Skeeter again it'll be psychotic rather than psychic."

"Like we haven't seen that one before…"

Harry tried not to laugh. This wasn't really the place for it. But he was on the outside of the barrier for the first time in nearly a year and now that his body was recovering from the Cruciatis-twin effect of being inside the barrier his heart was singing with the adventure of it. The danger? The danger felt like too many chocolate frogs hitting his blood stream.

A small part of Harry's conscious piped up, warning that this was false confidence. A voice in memory twitched. Luna. Something Luna had read to him once up on Squirrel Hill… a poem about a man journeying with a horse…

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep…

The woods weren't lovely. They were dark and deep, yes, and bloody terrifying with what the mind's eye populated the shadows.

Harry shuddered. Cold. Why did treacherous memory have to give him this memory right now? The energy vanished as quickly as it had come. He shifted closer to Simon. The horse radiated warmth like a furnace. Simon was a horse and horses were animals, therefore unreliable, but Simon was his horse and Harry would trust him over any other. Unreliable? Easily startled? Well, yes. But it was up to Harry to predict which way the horse would jump when frightened and ride out the leap.

He patted Simon's neck.

Good boy, Simon.

It was like a mantra. Or a charm. Like an unvoiced spell, the words had power even when he formed them in the privacy of his own head. They soothed Harry's jangled nerves. And Simon, attuned to his rider even when his rider was on foot, lost a fraction of his nervous tension. The ears still flickered and the nostrils flared in quick snuffles at every moving current of air, but the urgency died.

The centaurs led them to a meadow as promised.

Harry looked up at the sky. There wasn't really much to see. It should be daybreak by now, but the clouds were just as heavy on this side as they'd been on the other. The scanty raindrops flecked his glasses and the silver light shimmering through the world sparked into tiniest rainbows as if the water it passed through were little prismic diamonds. They settled onto Simon's mane and picked out the softer hairs of his ears where they glittered like stardust.

A larger raindrop plopped on Harry's nose. It tickled. He rubbed at his nose.

"We need to get word to Hogsmeade," Draco told the centaurs. Perhaps he was feeling brave. Or, like Harry, he was aware that the time for the attack was getting very close. "Is there some way for you to pass on the message, or should we go?"

"We do not leave the Forest. And it would be better for you to deal directly with the trees. That is your task, is it not?" the grey asked. His severe tone said incontrovertibly that as far as he and the other centaurs were concerned, it was the task of the two wizards and if they started whining about it no amount of black stallions on their side would stop them from being trampled and riddled with arrows.

Harry wondered if a jab with an arrow to the centaur's behind would release some of that pomposity. He stifled the thought before Simon could pick up on it and bite Magorian. "Well, is there any way you know of for getting a message through?" Harry wasn't sure how long he could continue being polite if this was their attitude. Were they here to help or just slow everything down by giving him a lecture on the planets?

"Mercury is in retrograde. This is –"

"This is the time to lower our gazes to the earthly domain," Firenze pointed out quickly as Harry's pulse began to throb in his temples.

Harry and Draco were nodding. "So you can't help us," Harry said. "Well. As Tigris pointed out, the earth moves but we do not. We'll be on our way then."

Firenze held up a hand. "We will give you safe passage, Harry Potter. We cannot venture out of the trees without agents of the evil wizard sensing us. But we can guide you past their sentinels, leafy-pelted or otherwise. Evil leaves corruption as a slug leaves slime. This we can sense."

"Oh. Okay. That'd be good." Harry was disturbed by the implication that some of Voldemort's allies might be Dryads. Dryads traditionally stayed out of the affairs of mortals. "But the message? You know, there should be a bell by the gates of Hogwarts –"

"The gates which are guarded by seventy-three Dementors? Yes. We know."

"Ah. Seventy-three? Okay." Harry was suddenly very relieved the unicorns had come for them. Ten Dementors – he could scatter ten, but seventy-three? Come to think of it, he'd been so busy throwing up after the barrier he couldn't have summoned a pen, let alone a Patronus.

Unicorns really were marvellous creatures.

"I'll do a fly-by over Hogsmeade on my way to the south tree," Draco said, but he looked unhappy.

"Might be our only hope. I've heard Patronuses can carry messages…" He could probably summon his stag by now.

"Me too. Do you know the spell to make them speak?"

"No. Do you?"

"No." Draco scratched his nose.

"Oh. Well. Scratch that one." Harry studied the leadrope. Simon had stopped tugging at it, which was a nice change. He might get out of this without blisters after all.

He'd certainly not get blisters if Voldemort killed him quickly, a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered. Harry rubbed his scar.

"Does that mean anything?" Draco asked.

"Hm? Oh. The scar. It – it felt like it was going to split my head open when we went through the barrier."

"Curse scar. Got to have some sort of resonance to the caster. Can you use it to get his position?"

"I'd rather not try, thanks."

"Yeah, might be best not to." Draco shivered. "D'you really think he sensed you in the barrier?"

The further they got from the barrier the harder it was for Harry to remember specifics of the barrier passage, only the terrible pain and Voldemort's hatred pouring over him like a crushing great tsunami. "Merlin. Let's hope not. But I think we really need to be prepared for him having done so, yes. Not even Elmsworthy or Dumbledore know how much of himself he put into that spell."

Bane was staring into the shadows, scowling. Harry couldn't recall him ever not scowling, so that wasn't as alarming a sight as it once was. "The Dark Wizard sensed you," he said. "We passed a vampire on the way. It was travelling in a most determined way in your direction and unlike us it would not have been summoned by the unicorns for your protection." He smiled unpleasantly. "The vampire will not trouble you. Nor will it report to its master."

"Not this side of Hades," a chestnut centaur laughed nastily. Harry noticed the dark splotches down his forelegs, much like Simon had had after the horse had killed the vrikolaki. No prize for guessing what – or who – had happened to the vampire.

"Maybe it was coincidence," Draco said.

Centaurs hated vampires. Maybe they'd only interpreted the vampire's movements as an excuse for killing it.

But no. Harry hated to admit it, but he was sure, deep down in the pit of his stomach where nightmares coiled, that Voldemort was aware of his presence now. Not just in the burning of his scar, but Harry knew. There was that link between them, prophecy and scar and murder, a link Harry could only skim over lightly because he didn't dare make the connection as strong as it had been last year when Voldemort had trapped him with false visions, but that link was still strong enough to feel Voldemort's attention shifting.

In those horrible Occlumency lessons last year Snape had told him to empty his mind of all emotion.

(Almost everything about that year made him angry or saddened.)

Rather than thinking about the past, Harry concentrated on Simon. You weren't allowed to be emotional when dealing with a jumpy horse.

Simon wasn't the only jumpy four-legged creature in the meadow.

"Others may be on their way," the grey said. He swished his tail impatiently. "The unnatural wall vibrated as you came through. Even we felt it. The evil wizard's creatures will have been attuned, no doubt. You delude yourself if you persist in believing you did not affect the wall."

"Did it do that when I came through with the horse the first time?" Draco asked.

The centaurs eyed him. "You have traversed the wall ere now?"

"Yes." Draco looked proud.

"We did not notice." Magorian shrugged and swished his tail again. "It must be the presence of Harry Potter that affects it thus."

Draco looked miffed.

"Perhaps it was the unicorn blood," Harry pointed out before Draco could start up a rant about stupid people getting their heads inflated with self-importance just because they had a stupid scar on aforementioned stupid heads.

"It was probably your scar," Draco said. It wasn't the rant Harry had been expecting. "Or maybe it was the potions. Maybe the shielding didn't work quite as well as we'd hoped."

"Well, let's not hang around discussing the what-ifs."

"Right. Time for some affirmative action." Draco mounted his broom. "I'll just have to alert Hogsmeade myself on the way. Lucky I'm a sneaky Slytherin." He pulled a face. "Want to fix that rein, or are you planning on casting a psychic spell to let Simon visualise your hands moving? Might as well put the power you raised using those shocking blood rites to work."

"I told you already, it's the teenage angst. You'd know about it yourself if you were human." Harry pulled out his wand. Simon gave the centaurs an especially nasty sneer as he allowed Harry to repair the broken leather and activate the silencing spell in the shoes. Then the horse's attention was captured by something in the trees.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted in the direction of Simon's stare.

There was something… something white… something like a phantom coming towards them.

The only sounds were those of the shifting hooves of the centaurs, the jingle of Simon's bit, and the whisper of raindrops hitting the leaves. Simon's silver-shod hoof was silent when he pawed at the ground for Harry's attention. Whatever it was coming towards them, it was as silent as the charmed shoes.

A centaur raised an arrow.

The ghost slipped through the trees. It floated down, making centaurs duck, and swooped at Harry.

"Don't shoot!" he shouted at the centaurs.

He threw his arm up at the last moment and felt a weight settle on his wrist. Claws gripped.

"Hedwig!" Harry cried joyfully.

It was.

Harry patted his owl, saying her name over and over in his relief. He hadn't realised he'd been so worried until now she'd found him and the relief of it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders, felt so strongly it seemed like an actual physical thing. Although the sun hadn't made its arrival felt through the clouds, Harry knew it was rising because the world was now a brighter place.

Draco tilted his head. "D'you think she could get a message to Hogsmeade?"

"Well, girl? Do you think you could get to Tonks or Moody without getting caught?"

Hedwig blinked her golden eyes at him indulgently and meeped.

"Of course she can. She's the best owl ever," Harry said, sure it wasn't a mere boast. He remembered how she had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron before him right before his third year, as if she'd sensed where he was meant to be. Wizarding owls weren't ordinary animals. This one blinked at him again as if she sensed the compliment and agreed modestly (but whole-heartedly) with her assessment by her master before rotating her head to peer around the Forest.

There didn't seem to be anything else out there and she wasn't alarmed. Neither were the centaur welcoming committee or Simon, who was standing with his head slanted just enough to let his riders know he wasn't keen on staying in the Forest any longer than necessary, thank you very much.

He hadn't encountered any Death Eaters, obviously, Harry thought with dark humour.

Simon poked his nose closer to the owl. Not too close – Simon was being especially cautious tonight, but it was enough to make Hedwig uneasy.

Hedwig twisted her head left, right, left, right, bobbing up and down to get in the whole of Simon. Harry wasn't sure she approved of his new familiar; she puffed out her feathers and tightened her talons on his forearm. At her warning shriek Simon pulled back with an offended look.

"Tell her not to be jealous – Simon's my horse."

"Keep telling yourself that fiction. Don't be jealous, girl. You'll like Simon. I'll get one of those saddles with a perch on it, like falconers use…"

"It's going to be day soon," Draco pointed out impatiently. "Owl? Nocturnal?"

"She's a Snowy. She's actually a diurnal species."

"Isn't a daylight owl a contradiction in terms?"

"The wacky big magical world of nature. She'll be fine. And she'll be able to spot Death Eaters and avoid them. Uh – I don't have any paper," he said.

"That bit is not a problem." Draco pulled out a small rectangle of parchment, a miniature self-inking quill and some Slytherin green ribbon. "Never know."

"Elmsworthy's been a good influence on you."

"Huh. Mind you, he did give us some good potions to try out."

"True. Any idea what they are, exactly?"

"Not a clue. He didn't label them. But I think they're of the throw-and-find-cover-before-you-turn-inside-out-and-explode variety."

"Oh. Elmsworthy's favourite kind of potions." Harry scribbled a quick note and gave it to Hedwig. She took it daintily in her beak. Some owls needed to have the letter tied to their legs, but she was far too good for that. He smiled and stroked her feathers. "Get it to Tonks. Or Moody. Or Ambrosius Flume at Honeydukes."

"So long as she doesn't give it to a Death Eater, that's all."

Harry glared at Draco.

"Okay, okay, she won't do that, sorry," Draco apologised hurriedly. "She's the best owl ever. Et cetera. And we can concentrate on the trees. Speaking of which, can we go now?"

"Good luck, girl," Harry said. He watched the owl fly away through the trees with a sudden emptiness in his chest, the owl's departure draining him of that rosy glow her presence had kindled. There was a good chance he'd sent her to her death.

But the lives of everyone in Hogsmeade were at risk. It wasn't up to Harry to put the life of an owl before theirs, no matter how much he loved her.

The same went for Simon. He stroked the horse's nose before mounting. Grumpy, surly beast he could be at times, Simon had protected Harry and been a good friend. He didn't deserve to have his life put in danger but these were dangerous times.

The centaurs turned and began to trot along the trail. Draco shot Harry a look and would have followed, but Simon's laid-back ears and head-shake were a clear warning that the Slytherin was not allowed to get more than ten feet ahead of the horse unless they wanted a severe demonstration on the Importance of Obeying One's Elders and Betters. Draco hovered as Harry performed one last tightening of the girth (and that was done from the saddle – Harry was about to get smug with his abilities) and gathered up the reins.

Harry had been furious with Draco for taking Simon through the barrier that time, but Draco had had a point: Simon's life was on the line as much as anyone else's. If Death Eaters won, he'd be so much Kneazle-meat. Simon had a right to fight for his own safety. Just like Harry and Draco did. Being a child had never protected Harry. Being a dumb animal gave Simon the same lack of defence in a world run by adult witches and wizards, many of whom were only out for their own twisted version of What Was Good And True. The world wasn't fair. But that didn't mean Harry had to sit back and let himself be overrun by fortune's outrages. He had a right to determine his own fate, and although Simon was only an animal and his role in life was basically to serve the whims of his human overlords, it meant that Harry could take up the challenge to override the trend and give Simon the chance to change the world.

After all, hadn't Severus said that horses represented freedom? That horses were for war and bringing about the rise and fall of nations? If any horse had the right to be involved in the fall of Voldemort, it was Simon.

"Gee up, Simon."

ooOOoo

The Forest floor whispered as the centaurs trotted over it. They had their bows ready, but it was Harry and Draco who had the best eyes for this gloomy attempt at dawn. Harry checked his watch – the sun should be on the horizon by now, burning its way into the sky. But overhead the leaves were black shadows against the purple depths of the sky. The sounds of thunder had died, but there were the occasional raindrops making their way through gaps in the canopy. Any storm that was hitting Scotland was probably doing so further to the north. They were only getting the edges here – the rain and the clouds working to dampen the world.

Harry and Draco peered into the gloom with silvery eyes.

But in this forest there were always things lying hidden.

One of them must have made a small noise. It was too quiet for humans or centaurs, but not for a horse.

Simon jumped forward, and then sideways until he jostled against the broom, knocking it against a tree.

"Whoops – careful there," said Draco, brushing bark off his shoulder. He didn't seem to be hurt, only surprised.

Simon's ignored him. He whipped his head around. He definitely wasn't fixing his senses on the centaurs.

Which meant there was something a lot scarier out there.

His ears were already pointing like they were magnetised at something twenty meters away: something lurking in a small thicket of beeches that were growing out of the fallen trunk of another tree. The horse gave one of its deep drain-clearing snorts and pranced sideways as it tried to keep up with the centaurs while at the same time letting everyone know that Something Evil That Way Lay.

But the centaurs had noticed something, too. They spread out around the boys and the horse and put arrows to bowstrings.

The thicket rustled. Something large was shifting behind the trees. Something massive, Harry amended, getting a glimpse of a muscular back twice as thick as Simon's as the something tried to slink further out of sight. Grawp? Harry didn't think so, somehow – Voldemort had found out about Grawp and started testing out anti-giant spells, so under Hagrid's urgings the giant had gone further into the mountains this year and Hagrid was confident his big little brother was living in a cave somewhere, waiting for Hagrid to come and find him.

Hagrid was very protective of his big little brother.

"What is it?" Harry whispered. That line of back had led down to the suggestion of a tail. He was too busy keeping Simon still to get a good look at what the tail belonged to.

Draco went higher on his broom to peer over the dead tree. He blinked one eye after the other. "Er… Either it's three very big dogs… or it's one sodding great dog with three heads." He curled his lip in disbelief. "I think the unicorn blood's making my vision do tricks…"

"Fluffy."

"I beg your pardon?" Draco shot him an affronted glare.

There was a growl from the depths of the thicket. An alarmingly familiar growl. Harry associated it with streams of drool and teeth that could take off your head (and had nearly taken off Snape's leg).

"No – the dog. Fluffy. That's his name."

"Can you call it?"

"I'd rather not. The dog's one of Hagrid's more homicidal pets."

"Oh. Oh… That's really not a good thing."

"No." Harry raised his voice: "Can any of you sing or play a musical instrument?"

The centaurs looked at him as if he'd gone mad (or had gone to study constellations inner and outer or whatever it was that centaurs did when they lost the plot).

The monster prowled out of the trees.

Fluffy. He'd grown even bigger.

Simon reared high in terror. Harry flung his arms around the horse's neck and Draco grabbed the headcollar. There was a brief struggle as the horse tried to bolt, but Draco managed to get control over the horse although his broom was dragged sideways through the air, the spells holding it up glowing green under the strain.

A centaur let loose an arrow.

Fluffy snapped it out of the air. His growl deepened. One of the heads barked. One had its eyes locked on Simon and – yes – began to drool.

Fluffy was hungry.

The centaurs conferred in low voices. They seemed to be wondering about the merits of surrounding the dog and then hitting it with a volley of arrows.

Simon shook his head violently and reared again. Draco was flung back and this time it was Harry who pulled on the reins and turned Simon in a tight circle so that the horse was almost running on the spot.

"Music," Harry insisted. He was getting dizzy. So was Simon, probably: would the horse fall over like a human would? "It's the key. It sends him to sleep."

"Harry?" Firenze said.

"This is an old pet of Hagrid's. Music really does have charms to soothe the savage beast."

"How typical of Hagrid… releasing unwanted pets into the environment rather than giving them the care they need…" the grey chuntered.

A deep baritone began to sing in a language Harry had never heard. The song thrummed through the forest until the trees shivered to it and turned their leaves closer to catch its every note, and Fluffy yawned, one head after another, and Hagrid's favourite puppy lay down and closed his six eyes.

Harry shut his own mouth and looked around for the singer and found it was Bane.

Just when he'd thought this adventure couldn't get any more surreal…

Bane shot the wizards a haughty glare – apparently while centaurs might be able to sing, they didn't want it advertised.

Firenze held out an arm down the trail.

Time to go.

As they walked as quietly down the trail as possible, Harry could hear Fluffy's snoring. Not very loud, it still managed to be the loudest sound in the Forest.

The world was on the cusp of dawn. Shouldn't there be birds by now? Tweeting, building nests, finding early worms, being eaten by stoats?

He might have asked but he didn't think he'd like the answer.

ooOOoo