282 0281 Old Friends

"Don't mention that name!" Hagrid angrily growled, interrupting Ron's sentence. "Otherwise, I'll drop you off and make you run behind the motorcycle. This bike is getting old, and it's a bit difficult to carry four people!"

Hagrid threatened, hoping to scare Ron into silence. He didn't want to hear any more talk of Voldemort, or of Black. 

Hagrid always believed that the dog that could grow bigger being black was just Harry's imagination, which frustrated Harry. Harry had seen the dog twice, once in Magnolia Crescent, and once in the Quidditch pitch. He had tried to convince Hagrid, but Hagrid had dismissed his claims as nonsense.

"Oh, look over there—"

Suddenly, Hermione let go of Harry's arm and exclaimed, pointing to the faintly visible path on the right side of the ground. 

And the three of them, reminded by Hermione, also turned their attention to where she was pointing. They saw several flickering torchlights in that direction, and those torchlights remained stationary. Harry could feel several pairs of eyes looking back in their direction.

"Oh, They are old friends. We can just go over and ask for directions!"

Hagrid immediately recognized who the torchbearers were and said happily.

As the motorcycle entered the range of the torchlight, Harry immediately recognized them—they were centaurs. He had encountered them when he was punished to "work" in the Forbidden Forest during his first year.

In front of them were about twenty centaurs, all armed with torches in one hand and spears in the other. Their faces were filled with a murderous aura, and even after seeing Hagrid, they didn't have a friendly expression. They looked angry and hostile, and they blocked the path with their muscular bodies.

The three centaurs leading the group were the strongest among these warriors. When their biceps bulged, they were almost as thick as Hermione's waist. And these three strong centaurs, Harry recognized them.

"What's going on here? is there a war going to happen here?!"

Hagrid landed the motorcycle, but seeing the centaurs's hostile attitude, he didn't have time to greet them and asked in surprise. 

Because he often helped the magical creatures living in the forest to solve their survival problems, Hagrid had a good relation with them. So, when the centaurs behind pawed the ground in anger, the centaur on the left of the three gave the elite warriors a warning look and then stepped forward. 

"Good evening, Hagrid."

Firenze, with his platinum hair and silver mane, greeted Hagrid and then lowered his head with a smile, looking at Harry.

"Good evening, Harry Potter. We meet again."

"It's been a while, Firenze."

It was only after getting off the motorcycle that Harry realized the damage the temperature in the Forbidden Forest had done to him. He rubbed his knees vigorously, trying to force a smile on his stiff and numb face.

While Harry and Firenze were catching up, Hagrid watched the heavily armed centaurs warily and said to Ronan and Bane,

"What's going on? Are you planning to attack Hogwarts?!"

......

In the deep, shadowy heart of the Forbidden Forest, the only sounds that pierced the heavy silence were the intermittent crackles and pops of the torches, their flames casting a flickering glow on the tense faces gathered around. The air was thick with anticipation, and a palpable tension hung like a cloak over the assembly.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in concern, leaned closer to Harry, her voice a hushed whisper barely audible above the soft hiss of the torches.

"Do they really intend to start a war against wizards?"

She questioned, her mind racing with snippets of lore and legend she had gleaned from the books of Hogwarts's vast library. The centaurs, proud and enigmatic creatures of the forest, were known for their aloofness towards wizardkind, often choosing the solitude and avoiding contact with wizards.

The centaurs remained stoically silent, their expressions unreadable in the dim light. Hermione's whispered fears seemed to echo in the stillness, causing a tightness in Harry's chest that he couldn't shake off. His gaze drifted to Firenze, the centaur who stood apart from his kin, not just in proximity but in spirit. Harry's fondness for Firenze was rooted in the centaur's more amiable disposition towards wizards, a stark contrast to the abrasive nature of Bane, his fellow centaur. Moreover, Firenze had proven saved Harry in the past, a debt Harry could never forget.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Harry's mind, overshadowing even the pressing concerns of Sirius Black's whereabouts. He sought Firenze's eyes, searching for some hint of reassurance, some sign that the rumors of war were unfounded.

Firenze, his gaze lifted to the sky, spoke with a deliberate slowness that seemed to stretch time itself. "Just like before, Harry Potter," he intoned, his voice resonating with a depth that belied his calm exterior. "You have once again chosen a bright Martian night to venture into the Forbidden Forest. It is unwise, for the affairs of centaurs are not meant for the meddling of wizards."

The words hung in the air like a specter, and at its utterance, Harry, Hermione, and the others could not contain their shock, their collective exclamation breaking the silence like a thunderclap. Hagrid, reacted instinctively, his stature rising as he rolled up his sleeves, his presence becoming a towering force even among the formidable centaurs Bane and Ronan. His glare was fierce, a silent challenge that did not go unnoticed by Bane, whose disapproval was evident in his stern countenance.

"We have no quarrel with the young foals in the school, Hagrid!" Bane's voice was a rumble of thunder, a clear indication that the centaurs' intentions were not directed at the students of Hogwarts.

Hagrid's eyes narrowed, a glint of suspicion flashing within as he pondered the centaurs's gathering. "If that's the case, then who are you preparing to confront in the dead of night? Oh, could it be…" Hagrid squinted his eyes, "that Aragog's offspring has caused trouble for you again? But I've already talked to it!"

"Who is Aragog?" Ron, ever curious, whispered his confusion to Harry, who could only offer a shake of his head in response. Ron turned to Hermione, seeking answers from her vast repository of knowledge. "Does that book mention this name, Hermione?"

The Forbidden Forest was isolated from the wizarding world, where prominent figures from the outside had no say, and the forest's rulers were unknown to the outside world. At the moment, Hagrid was the only bridge between these two worlds.

Firenze's voice cut through the tension, his words a balm of calm in the midst of rising tempers. 

"Don't worry, Hagrid," Firenze said calmly, "We just want to punish the vile dark creatures living deep in the Forbidden Forest. They have been too active these past few days, constantly appearing in our territory. And this evening, they had the audacity to kidnap one of our own."

"You mean..." Hagrid's brow furrowed, and he was about to say the name of those creatures, but his gaze suddenly caught Harry and the others, who were extremely concerned about this question. After a brief hesitation, he said firmly, "If that's the case, then your actions are not surprising. But Dumbledore hopes for a harmonious and peaceful environment for the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest. If they have truly done this, I will report it to him, Firenze. Professor Dumbledore will come for you. But for now..."

Bane's reaction was swift and fierce, his pride as a centaur wounded by the implication of needing wizardly intervention. "The centaurs require no protection from wizards!" he bellowed, his anger directed squarely at Hagrid. "Not even from Dumbledore himself!"

The tension escalated, the air charged with the potential for conflict, but Ronan, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward, his hooves scraping the earth as he positioned himself between Bane and Hagrid.

"Hagrid means no offense, Bane," Ronan interjected, his voice a soothing counterpoint to the rising hostility. Turning to Hagrid, he continued, "We are capable of resolving our own issues."

Firenze, with a gesture of solidarity, placed a reassuring hand on Bane's back before stepping forward to address the group. His eyes met Harry's, who was confused and said, "I believe we all have pressing matters to attend to, Harry Potter. The time has come for us to part ways."

As the centaurs retreated into the forest, their torches soon swallowed by the encroaching darkness, a chilling silence enveloped Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The cold air seemed to seep in from all directions, prompting the trio to draw closer for warmth and comfort. Hagrid, made his way to his enchanted motorcycle, his large hands fumbling in the dark until he found the switch for the headlights. With a flick, the beams cut through the darkness, casting a cylindrical beacon of light that pierced the night, a solitary sentinel against the unknown perils of the forest.

Hagrid's deep voice rumbled through the stillness of the night, his words heavy with the gravity of the situation. "If it was a fellow centaur that was kidnapped, then I'm not surprised that Ronan and the others mobilized," he said, his large hand thoughtfully stroking the coarse bristles of his beard. "The number of centaurs is very scarce, and each one is precious to them." 

Harry, standing beside the half-giant, nodded solemnly, his heart weighed down by the severity of the revelation. Memories flooded back to him, vivid and unsettling, of the previous summer when Professor Watson had guided him through the shadowy, labyrinthine depths of Knockturn Alley. That hidden, underground world had overturned everything Harry thought he knew about the Wizarding world. There, amidst the murk and the whispers, he had witnessed dark wizards engaged in the sinister and illicit trade of magical creatures. Among those unfortunate beings, Harry recalled the sight of centaurs, their proud stances belying their captivity. A chilling thought crossed his mind—could one of those centaurs have been from Firenze's own tribe?

Hermione, her sharp intellect always at the ready, voiced the question that lingered unspoken between them. "Hagrid, what exactly kidnapped the centaurs?" Her eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful furrow, her mind racing to piece together the fragments of information they had.

Ron, ever the one to notice the oddities in timing and circumstance, chimed in with a theory of his own. "And it's too coincidental that it happened tonight, when the centaur tribe was attacked. Malfoy mysteriously entered the Forbidden Forest with that dog,"

Hagrid grunted in agreement, his annoyance palpable. "Yeah, tonight is really eventful," he muttered, the frustration evident in his tone. "I should report these things to Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson immediately, but they're both not at the school!" The absence of the two professors at such a critical time seemed to add another layer of mystery to the already complex puzzle.

The trio—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of suspicion and uncertainty. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed was disconcerting.

Ron's face drained of color as he grasped the potential implications of their predicament. "This could be a conspiracy, Harry!" he exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper as Hagrid struggled to mount the motorcycle. "Someone is up to something, and I've been wondering why Scabbers would willingly follow Malfoy."

Hermione suggested seriously, "I think we should go back to the school and tell Professor McGonagall about all of this, Harry," 

Harry remained silent, but his resolve was clear in his actions. As the motorcycle's engine roared back to life, he climbed into the sidecar, his eyes—unwavering and determined—visible beneath the frost that had gathered on his eyelashes.

Now, they were back on their original path, but the terrain had changed dramatically from the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. No longer was it a flat expanse carpeted with fallen leaves; instead, it was a treacherous landscape filled with puddles, mud pits, and oddly shaped rocks. The task of finding footprints became a formidable challenge, and their progress slowed considerably.

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Author's Note: Is todays chapter more complex or OK?