Chapter Fourteen.
“Mmmph. Thith iv gub,” mumbled Ron, stuffing another muffin into his mouth. Hermione looked at him in disgust, but Harry just grinned and pushed the breakfast tray closer towards him. He was rather enjoying having breakfast away from the prying eyes of the Great Hall, even if they were getting funny comments from the other Gryffindors. Harry just brushed them off “ mostly he allowed them to believe he was, once again, getting special treatment. The truth was that Dobby had arranged for the three of them to have their breakfasts in the privacy of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Since the debacle of the previous evening’s lunch, Harry was less than keen on the idea of going back to the Great Hall to eat. Still, he knew that they would have to go back eventually; Dobby couldn’t keep on feeding them privately forever “ at least he could, but Hermione refused to allow it. Harry trusted that Dumbledore would ensure that Snape’s Veritaserum would remain safely locked in the dungeon store-rooms, but he couldn’t help enjoying being out of the public eye for a little bit.
There had been a brief moment of concern when Lavender and Parvati had swept down to the common room and slammed their way out of the portrait hole, noses in the air. Ron even stopped chewing in surprise. Harry had no idea what they might have done to offend the two girls, but was reassured when Seamus Finnegan descended gingerly from the boy’s staircase.
“Are they gone yet?” he asked, a trifle sheepishly, and looked relieved at their nods.
“Good. Got me ear chewed off enough as it was, yesterday.”
“What did you do?” Hermione asked shrewdly, and Seamus looked puzzled, and a bit shame-faced.
“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “Honestly. It’s just that Lavender’s done something to her hair…” he waved his hand in small circles.
“You mean she’s curled it,” supplied Hermione. “Over the holidays, it was.”
“Yeah. Well, she asked me what I thought of it at lunch yesterday. And I said… I said…” Seamus took a deep breath. “I said it looked like my great-aunt Olive’s poodle after a run in with the dryer.” He looked honestly puzzled. “Dunno why I said it, really.”
Harry carefully avoided looking at both Ron and Hermione. He wondered what other fights the pumpkin juice had caused, but decided it was probably best just not to mention it.
“How did the poodle get into a dryer?” Hermione asked reluctantly, looking a bit like she didn’t want to know.
“Don’t ask,” muttered Seamus. “I didn’t mean to do it.” He shot a hard glare at Ron, who was sniggering, despite the fact that he really wasn’t sure exactly what a dryer was. “I didn’t.” He reached over quickly and swiped a piece of toast, which wiped the grin off Ron’s face.
“Oi!”
“I’m going, I’m going,” smirked Seamus, and ambled over to the portrait hole, giving it a suspicious look. “You don’t suppose they’re waiting outside, do you?” he said, around a mouthful of toast.
Ron sniggered after him, but a bright voice descended on them. “Morning, all.” Katie Bell smiled cheerily down at them. “Personal service, huh? Some people have all the luck. Just don’t be too long. Trials start in half an hour.”
“What?” said Harry, and was thumped on the back by Ron, who was trying to swallow a whole sausage in one go.
“Sorry mate,” he said after a minute. “I was supposed to tell you a couple of days ago, but things got a bit hairy, and, well…” his eyes slid over to Hermione, who was calmly buttering a piece of toast and determinedly not looking at either of them.
“Right. Anyway,” Ron went on in a tone that was upbeat if slightly forced, “Quidditch trials today.”
“You’re back as Seeker, obviously,” said Katie. “Ginny says she’d rather be a Chaser anyway. But both Alicia and Angelina have left, so we need another Chaser.”
“We need a couple of Beaters as well,” Ron pointed out gloomily. “The ones we’ve got are rubbish.”
“We won the Cup last year with those rubbish Beaters,” Katie reminded him. “Look, I know they’re not Fred and George, but they’re the best of a bad bunch.” Ron scowled, but she went on “Besides, I’d thought you’d’ve agreed to cut them some slack. It took you some time to get used to being the Keeper, didn’t it?” Ron reddened, but had to nod.
“That’s alright then,” said Katie breezily. “See you all in a bit.” She swiped a muffin as she went past, to Ron’s great disgust.
“Oi!” he yelled out, as she went through the portrait hole. “This isn’t a bloody buffet, you know!”
“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione. “There’s far more here than you can eat.”
“Want to bet?” said Ron, raising an eyebrow and reaching for the rest of the bacon. Hermione just shook her head in amazement. “So,” continued Ron, emptying the bacon dish, “are you gonna come out and watch?”
“I don’t think so,” said Hermione. “I might just go to the library. I’ve got a lot of reading to do for History of Magic.”
“Serves you right, that does,” said Ron. “What has Binns got you doing anyway?”
Harry looked at him in surprise. He couldn’t imagine Ron ever being interested, but realised that his friend was probably just trying to make conversation. More and more Harry had noticed that Ron was struggling to find things to say to her, and couldn’t blame him. Half the time he didn’t know what to say himself.
“It’s the project I’m working on with Susan,” said Hermione, becoming a bit more animated. Then she scowled slightly. I wanted to do a history of how House Elves have been treated” Harry clamped his mouth shut and carefully avoided looking at Ron, “but she didn’t want to. We compromised on goblins.” She brightened a bit. “It’s quite interesting actually “ at least what I’ve been able to find.” She rummaged in her bag, and hoisted out a thick tome entitled The History of Gringott’s Bank: Keeping Your Galleons Out of Other People’s Thieving Hands. Ron shot a glance at Harry, lips twitching, but had the sense to keep silent.
“It’s not very good though,” said Hermione, disgruntled. “Everything I can find has been written by wizards “ from their point of view, you know. It makes it hard to get the full picture. Still, we’ve only just started really. There’s bound to be more in the library somewhere.” Harry and Ron grinned. No matter what else went on, Hermione’s faith in the powers of the library continued unshaken.
“Still,” said Ron composedly, trying not to laugh, “You could always read in the stands, couldn’t you? Fresh air and all.” When Hermione looked sceptical, he continued “Come on. You can’t spend the first weekend of term locked up in that dingy place. Don’t you want to be the first to see Gryffindor’s new team in action?”
“I’d be just thrilled to,” said Hermione dryly, but a smile tugged at her lips.
*
When Harry at last touched ground again, he was smiling. Flying always seemed to relax him, no matter what might be happening. It had been a good practice session, and Katie had found a Chaser “ a tiny second-year girl “ who had even managed to please Ron. Hermione had indeed come to read in the stands, and she had been joined by Susan Bones. The two girls, books spread about them, had been deep in conversation throughout. Harry doubted they noticed that they weren’t really in the library after all, and he was guiltily relieved that Hermione had found someone else to latch her crusade onto. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with her “ mostly “ but there were limits to the things that he could do and worry about. A small part of him suspected that he should actually be paying more attention, but he rationalised it away with the thought that Hermione no doubt more than made up for his lack. When it came to sorting information, he just wasn’t in her league. Besides, it was good seeing her talking to someone again.
Even if that someone wanted to talk to him as well. When Susan left the stand, and made her way determinedly towards him, he pasted a polite expression on his face. The euphoria he always got from flying seemed to sink a little. Behind her, Hermione was gathering up all the books, and trying to stuff them into a bag that was clearly far too small.
“Hey,” said Susan casually. “Look, I know I’ve asked you this before, but have you given any more thought to resurrecting the D.A.? Half of Hufflepuff has been asking me about it.” She grinned tiredly. “Actually, they’ve been pretty much non-stop since your little trip to the Forest. The gossip in this place has to be heard to be believed.”
“No kidding,” said Harry with feeling.
“You can’t blame them, really,” said Susan fairly. “There are all these rumours going around, about Hermione being able to get past an actual Dementor. Oh, I know you tried to teach us the Patronus Charm last year, but it’s different in a classroom.” She shrugged. “None of us thought we’d actually have to use it, I guess.”
“I hope you don’t,” said Harry sincerely. “Look. I know I said I’d think about it, but honestly…” he trailed off, feeling guilty.
“You haven’t really had time. It’s alright,” said Susan calmly. “I understand.” There was no resentment or judgement in her voice, and Harry was grateful for it.
“How about I go and talk to Lupin about it?” he offered. “He might be better running it, after all.”
“Okay,” said Susan, checking behind her. Hermione had managed to force the book bag closed. “We’re going to head up to the library, I think. See you later?”
“Sure,” said Harry. “Have fun with the goblins.”
Susan gave him a flat stare, which Harry found eerily familiar. “Goblins are more important than you think,” she said primly. Harry was saved from having to answer by Ron and Ginny, who were just landing behind them. As they made their way to the changing rooms, he could see Susan and Hermione head off towards the castle.
“I think we’ve got a good chance of keeping the Cup this year,” said Ron in satisfaction, stowing the Quaffle back into its box.
“As long as it isn’t Slytherin, I’m happy,” said Harry grinning. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be entirely happy if Gryffindor didn’t win, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He and Ron left the changing rooms and started back towards the castle, Ron happily laying bets on who would win the first match, scheduled between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.
“Harry! Ron! Wait up, will you?” Ginny ran up past them and stopped in their path, eyeing them beadily. Harry realised with a shock that she had something of the expression of Mrs. Weasley about her, and he saw that Ron, too, was taken aback.
“What d’you want, Gin?” said Ron warily.
Ginny scowled at him. “You needn’t look like that. I’m not about to hex you. I was just wondering if you knew what day was coming up.” Her tone implied that she was sure that they had forgotten, and that they ought to be ashamed of themselves.
Harry wracked his brain, but couldn’t think of anything. “Er… Sunday?” he offered weakly. Ginny rolled her eyes and even Ron looked at him in pity. “What?” said Harry defensively. “It’s not like you know what she’s talking about.”
Ginny whacked him on the arm. Harry winced “ growing up fighting with Fred and George had given her an unerring instinct for catching people off guard. “She has a name,” Ginny pointed out loftily. “You needn’t smirk, Ron. I know that you’ve forgotten as well.”
Ron looked hunted. “I haven’t forgotten anything. I… er… it’s just that...”
Ginny’s hand whacked out and cracked him on the elbow. Ron squealed and swung out at her. “Geroff!” he snapped, scowling. It was Harry’s turn to smirk.
“Boys,” said Ginny loftily. “I’d have thought you would have wanted to put a special effort in this year, all things considered.” Her eyes narrowed and swung from side to side, pinning them in place. Then she said the words that froze
them in place.
“It’s Hermione’s birthday on the nineteenth.”
There was a moment’s silence. “Oh, bloody hell,” groaned Ron.
“Yes,” said Ginny. “Quite.” She glared at them both. “I trust you’ve both been deep in thought organising suitable presents?” She watched them both cringe, and then stuck the boot in further. She was definitely sister to Fred and George. “It’s not like she’ll be getting anything from her parents now, is it?”
Harry winced. Guilt flooded through him, and his mouth went dry. “Thanks…thanks for the reminder,” he said weakly. Ginny glared at him for a moment before her face softened.
“It’s not your fault, Harry,” she said. “I’m not blaming you. It’s not like you’ve had much time to think about it.” She dropped between them and started chivvying them up towards the castle. Ron made a strangled noise, and she patted his arm reassuringly. “You’re just lucky someone kept their head, while there was still time for you to get her something good. Any ideas?”
“A book,” Harry said firmly, falling back on the one thing that he was sure of. “She likes those.”
Ginny gave him a look of deep disgust. “A book. Top marks for originality there, Harry.”
“Oh, come on,” Ron broke in. “How are we supposed to know what she wants? Books make her happy. She likes Chocolate Frogs, so why not give her a book and a bag of them?”
“Well I’m glad to see this hasn’t put you to any trouble then,” Ginny started, her voice over-sweet.
Harry tried again. “It’s not that,” he lied, swapping a helpless glance with Ron over his sister’s head. “It’s just that… well…” he groped about for an excuse. “Ron’s right. They do make her happy “ remember when he got her that perfume-?”
“Yeah,” Ron interjected indignantly. “I don’t think she’s worn it once!”
“That’s because it’s absolutely horrible,” said Ginny absently. “No-one in their right mind would wear it.” Ron scowled at her. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.” She tugged him along. “Look. If you’re just going to stay with your normal, boring presents, then you need to do something else. How about a party?” She glanced up at them innocently, as if the suggestion had only just occurred to her, but Harry suddenly felt as though he and Ron had just been neatly hooked, and were lying on the line about to be gutted.
“What?” said Ron, disbelievingly. “A party? Us?”
“Yes, you,” said Ginny firmly. “And me and Harry and the rest.”
“Uh, who’s the rest?” asked Harry warily.
“Gryffindor House, of course. And the D.A. “ well, most of them.”
“Bloody hell!” said Ron again. “Where are you going to put them all? How are you going to feed them? How-”
“I’m so glad I’ve got you to help,” Ginny commented pointedly. “Relax, will you? We can hold it in the Room of Requirement. I’m sure Dobby will be happy to help with the food and make a cake if you ask him to.” She nudged Harry in the side. “I’ve thought it all out. Susan and Luna will give me a hand. All you two have to do” and from the tone of her voice they got the distinct impression that she wasn’t at all sure of their capability “…is keep her out of the way on the night until everything’s ready.” She glared at them both expectantly.
“We can do that,” said Harry, belatedly realising she expected a response.
“Yeah. No trouble,” added Ron, trying to look trustworthy. Ginny rolled her eyes, and they watched in silence as she nodded in satisfaction and skipped ahead. “She’s getting more like Mum every day, you know,” he commented mournfully.
Harry snorted, and when they were climbing up the steps to the Entrance Hall he said “Could you take my broom back up to the Tower? I’ve got to see Lupin about the D.A. Might as well do it now.”
Knocking on Lupin’s door, Harry entered, and was surprised to see his teacher packing some clothes into an old ratty bag. There was a set, unhappy expression on his face, but he pasted on a smile when he saw his visitor.
“Harry. What can I do for you? I thought you’d be out enjoying the fresh air.”
“You’re not leaving again, are you?” blurted Harry.
Lupin’s face darkened. “It’s not what you think. Most of the parents still think of me as persona non grata, but Dumbledore’s taking care of them.” Lupin snapped the clasp shut on the bag. “Or at least he’s ignoring them. I’m not sure it’s the same thing. But don’t worry “ I’ll be back on Monday.”
“Where are you going?” said Harry.
“Grimmauld Place,” said Lupin flatly.
“Why?” said Harry, amazed. He was appalled that Lupin could actually want to go there, but it occurred to him that, as the owner of the house, he might have responsibilities there. Still, he couldn’t think of anything important.
Lupin crossed his arms and stared at him. “Kreacher,” he said, in the same carefully neutral tone. “I know what you think of him, but I am responsible for his welfare. Tonks checks on him as often as she can, but it’s unfair of me to expect her to do all the work.”
“What’s to check on?” asked Harry bitterly. “He’s alright there, I expect. Got enough food and everything. Just forget about him.”
“I can’t do that,” Lupin sighed. “It was neglect and ill-treatment and loneliness that made him what he is. I can’t in good conscience continue to treat him so. There is a chance that he may be reformed, I expect, though it may seem hopeless-”
“It is hopeless,” interrupted Harry angrily, and was about to go on when Lupin cut him off in turn.
“I agree with you,” he said, and Harry’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “But there is always the chance that I might be wrong. And even if it truly is hopeless, that is no good reason to discard him as if he were only a broken teacup. Even those we try to repair.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Harry. I would far rather stay at Hogwarts, and during the week I am indeed obliged to. But my weekends are my own, and there are no responsibilities here that are great enough to keep me.”
“Right,” said Harry, taken aback. He felt a little bit injured, though he didn’t know why, and it showed in his voice. “I see.”
Lupin smiled at him, a real smile this time. “I could always stay, and we could spend every weekend going over Defence spells. Of course, you’d have to give up Quidditch, but the end result should be worth it.”
“Thanks, but… um…” Harry sputtered.
“But you cannot spend every hour of the day studying,” Lupin finished. “You must have your life, Harry,” he concluded seriously. “It will remind you what you will be fighting for.” He shot him a stern glance. “But time off doesn’t mean that you get to fool around. No leaving the school grounds. No more skipping classes. I mean it Harry “ and you are to go straight to Dumbledore if anything remotely strange happens. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Harry muttered obediently, wanting to roll his eyes but restraining himself. He’d heard it all before “ apart from the skipping classes, that is. “It’s not as if I do it often,” he complained. “But after what Snape did “ did Dumbledore tell you? “ well, she just needed to get away for a while,” he finished lamely. “We were only out by the lake.”
Lupin smirked. “I did hear. It was probably not one of Severus’s better ideas.” He sighed wistfully. “I wish I could have seen it. Your father would have been so proud.”
“Would he… would he have done the same thing, d’you think?” Harry asked hesitantly.
“Certainly not,” said Lupin, and Harry looked disappointed. “Your father never had that much subtlety. From what Professor McGonagall said, it wasn’t your father you resembled. She said… she said that you look so much like James, that sometimes it is easy to forget your mother. What she saw that night was pure Lily.” He sighed again. “I wish I could have seen it. Severus didn’t know what to do with himself, I think.”
“He deserved it,” snapped Harry. Sudden resentment swelled through him. “I’m surprised you’re not taking his side. In Dumbledore’s office it seemed like you agreed with him.”
“I do,” said Lupin sombrely. “But not for the same reasons, I expect. Professor Snape believes that Hermione might have been influenced somehow by Voldemort, and in all fairness, Harry, that is the logical assumption.” He held up his hand as Harry sputtered. “It’s the logical assumption. I don’t say that I agree with it, mind.”
Harry stared at him, honestly puzzled. “But if you don’t agree with him then why try to force her into telling people about it? Whatever ‘it’ is,” he added, trailing off.
“Because we’re worried about her, Harry,” said Lupin. “Dumbledore and McGonagall and I. She’s a child, and there’s no-one else to look after her now. And we doubt very much whether or not she understands completely herself what’s going on. She needs to talk. It’s for her own good,” he finished wearily. “I don’t suppose she said anything to you?”
“I told her she didn’t have to,” said Harry. “I’m not going to ask again.”
Lupin didn’t look satisfied, but he didn’t look surprised either. “Ah well,” he said, “we’ll just work with what we have then.” He eyed Harry. “I don’t suppose you came to tell me what project you wanted to do for class?”
“Er… no, Professor,” said Harry weakly. He had forgotten all about it, and it showed on his face.
“No matter,” said Lupin briskly. “You’re excused.”
“What?”
“I’ve spoken to Dumbledore. He has agreed that your extra sessions with me will count towards it. Hermione will be attending as well. I don’t believe that she has your overall ability in Defence, but things have changed. She seems to have a certain… talent for dealing with Dementors, after all.”
“And if she won’t tell you what’s wrong you’ll keep her in a place you can see her,” Harry summarised, and Lupin nodded.
“There is that.” He shot a quick glance at the clock. “So, what did you come up here for anyway? I thought you were at Quidditch practice this morning.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oddly enough, I’d like to know what happened with the Dementor,” he said dryly. “I didn’t expect a written report but I had hoped that someone would have let me know what was going on.”
Lupin frowned. “I would have thought Dumbledore would have said something to you,” he said. Harry snorted.
“He’s not terribly good at that,” he pointed out resentfully.
“He has a lot on his mind, Harry,” Lupin reminded him gently, receiving a sceptical look in reply. “Very well. I went with them when they went into the Forest, looking for the creature.” He grimaced. “It took some time to locate it, but Dumbledore is convinced that there was only the one of them.”
“It wouldn’t be there on its own,” interrupted Harry swiftly.
“Not if it was going to attack Hogwarts, no,” agreed Lupin. “I doubt it could even get onto the grounds at present “ the wards were strengthened somewhat over the summer. But if it was there only to spy…” he trailed off meaningfully.
“The Ministry’s lost complete control over them, hasn’t it?” said Harry, not expecting an answer. “But if Voldemort sent it to spy on us, why did it show itself to us in Grawp’s clearing?”
“Hungry, I expect,” said Lupin. “The Forest is full of creatures for it to feed on, but three humans wandering about must have been irresistible. As for the Ministry, they haven’t lost control over the Dementors “ they never had control over them in the first place. The Dementors chose to obey. That’s a distinction you should not forget.”
Harry made a face. “Did you get rid of it?”
“For now,” said Lupin. “But even Dumbledore cannot keep the Forest clear forever. Another will come, and another.”
“You’re always so comforting,” Harry grumbled, and Lupin gave a pale smile.
“Would you rather I patted you on the head and told you that everything would be fine?” he suggested. “Don’t worry about a thing, and run along and play?”
“You know I wouldn’t,” said Harry resignedly. “And look, there’s something else. Susan Bones talked to me this morning. About the D.A. She wants to know if we’re going to be starting it up again. She’s not the only one who’s been asking about it, actually.”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt,” said Lupin. “I expect, though, after last year, that you’ll be getting more students than you know how to deal with.”
“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “I was hoping that you could help us.”
“I see. Well, let me give it some thought.” Lupin looked at him assessingly. “You may not agree with everything I suggest, though.”
“Whatever you suggest will be fine,” said Harry, relieved. With his workload this year, he had hoped that Lupin would take pity on him, and not suggest that running the D.A. was a good way of ‘developing responsibility’.
Lupin raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said dryly, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. “I’ll talk to you about it when I get back. Unless there’s anything else?” Harry shook his head, and Lupin headed for the fireplace, stopping after a few steps. “What class was it you missed yesterday morning?”
“Um, Divination,” said Harry, thinking back to his timetable. “With Firenze.”
“I would suggest that you go and apologise,” said Lupin. “You don’t want to be getting behind in your first week back.” He replaced the Floo powder on the mantle, and the fire blazed green. “Wish me luck,” he said, putting on a cheerful tone. Harry pressed his lips together grimly and didn’t reply. Seeing his face, Lupin sighed, and disappeared into the flames.
He found Firenze in the ground floor room Dumbledore had ‘adjusted’ for him, on one of the corridors leading off from the Great Hall. Moving a few feet into the forest, crushing sweet smelling herbs beneath him, Harry heard an answering call, and was horrified to see the centaur limping towards him, stopping slowly and painfully in the middle of the grove.
“What happened?” he asked quickly. “Do you need me to fetch Madam Pomfrey? It wouldn’t take a minute…” he backed hastily towards the door, but Firenze waved him back, though the movement was weary, and his shoulder obviously pained him as well. There were deep bruises down one side of him, and Harry thought he could make out hoof shapes in the midst of the injury.
“There is no need,” Firenze intoned. “She has been and gone.” He indicated the bruises. “These will heal in time.” He looked almost disappointed. Harry felt the urge to back out of the room “ why did everything have to be so complicated? For a moment, he wondered if Lupin had known what he would find, but dismissed the thought almost instantly. Of course Lupin had known “ the man seemed to revel in finding emotional tangles for him to wade through, Harry thought grumpily.
He looked over the centaur again, more carefully this time. Thankfully Firenze, like most centaurs, it seemed, was comfortable with silence. Harry reviewed what he knew about them. While it was certainly possible that half a herd had visited Hogwarts, for the sole purpose of trampling over one of their former members, he didn’t think it was likely, or the most logical explanation. A small spark of amusement flared in him “ he was beginning to sound like Hermione. And if the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest hadn’t come to Firenze, then he had gone to them. Given that it had been made perfectly clear that Firenze was no longer welcome in the Forest, he must have had an exceptionally good reason for going back, and lately there had been only one exceptionally good reason to head into the Forest.
“I take it you went with Dumbledore to find the Dementor, then?”
There was a pause, and then Firenze nodded. “I have lived in the Forest since I was a foal. There is no-one in this stone pile that knows it better than I.”
“And you met some other centaurs…” Harry prodded, gingerly. He didn’t want to be rude, or presumptuous, and he fully expected Firenze to tell him to mind his own business and kick him out, but he had to ask. The centaur confirmed it with a nod.
“But why?” Harry blurted, gesturing to the bruises. He was honestly puzzled. “Didn’t they want someone to get rid of the Dementor?”
Firenze cocked his head to one side and regarded Harry with flat, blank eyes. “Why would they?”
Harry gaped. “Because… because… they’re dangerous,” he stuttered. “They’re working for Voldemort!”
“And?” said Firenze. “They’re not coming for us… for the centaurs,” he added heavily. “And there is little love lost between my kind and yours.”
Harry choked down the words that sprang to his lips. Accusing Firenze would do nothing, nothing but alienate the one centaur that had been forced to leave his herd for conspiring with humans. He cast desperately about for something to say that would
sway his teacher. “But you went anyway. You went with Dumbledore.”
“I owe him my loyalty,” said Firenze, the words rumbling out from deep within him. “He asked me to guide him this one time, and so I did. But my loyalty belongs to my people.”
“You left your people,” Harry pointed out softly. “To help us.”
A rumble echoed around the wooded chamber. “I am not convinced I was right to do so,” Firenze admitted stoically.
“Not getting involved won’t save your people,” argued Harry desperately. “If Voldemort wins, he won’t stop with humans. He won’t stop.”
“We do not necessarily want him to win,” said Firenze carefully, taking a painful step closer to Harry. He stared at him, eyes blazing. “The centaurs would prefer that he just didn’t lose.”
“I don’t understand,” said Harry, although admittedly he was never certain of understanding when centaurs were involved. They seemed to take great pleasure in being unutterably vague.
“I believe,” said Firenze bitterly, “I believe that my herd was honoured with the stay of one of your Ministry officials not so very long ago.” With a chill, Harry remembered how Professor Umbridge had marched into the Forbidden Forest and challenged the centaurs, and how they had kept her with them until Dumbledore “ against all good sense, Harry thought “ had retrieved her.
“Tell me,” said Firenze slowly, “If that creature and others like her gained power in your world, how would it be any different for my people than if Voldemort came to rule?”
Ashamed, Harry looked away. He knew perfectly well that the predominant attitude to non-human magical creatures in the wizarding world was a disgrace, and one that would be very slow to change. “We’re not all like that,” he offered weakly.
“But there are enough,” Firenze rumbled. “There are enough. So if your Dark Lord rises to power, why should we not feel glad at what he will do to your kind? Why should we not rejoice? Perhaps his rising will destroy both your worlds.” His voice dropped. “There could be no better alternative for many of us.”
For many of us. Harry swallowed “ for the centaurs, the house-elves, the goblins, the giants… how many would indeed rejoice if the wizarding world was brought to ruin? And would they not be justified in doing so? Chilled, he wondered how many allies that could ever hope to persuade to their side. Not many, it seemed that Firenze was saying. Not many, and from their point of view, rightly so. Harry was suddenly very depressed.
“Right,” he said weakly. “I’m sorry,” he added, knowing that it would do no good, but somehow feeling compelled to say it anyway. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to apologise for not turning up to class yesterday.” He shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t anything personal. There was just… there was just something else that I had to do.”
Firenze looked at him impassively. “I led no lesson yesterday morning. The class was cancelled, while I prepared to enter the Forest.”
“Right,” repeated Harry. “Er… okay. Sorry to have bothered you then.” He felt incredibly foolish, fumbling with the handle of the door.
Lupin had known after all, he thought. Damn him.