An Encounter with Centaurs
The boys had a long, hard day.
They slogged alongside the stream, straggling toward the northwest. They stayed near the water, stopping frequently to drink; it did something to offset their hunger, though not much. They scanned the water, looking for fish, but had no luck.
They did find a patch of ripe raspberries growing in a thick, thorny tangle, bathed in a patch of sunlight through a broken piece of the canopy. They scratched themselves bloody picking fruit, stuffing berries into their mouths by the handful. When they had taken the edge off their hunger, James Transfigured some vines into a basket, which they filled with more berries. James carried the basket, still lugging Severus’s satchel.
“Why’d you have to bring so many potions ingredients, anyway?” he demanded irritably. He adjusted the strap again. The satchel was getting heavier as the day went on. “Just what potions are you planning to make? Enhance Your Darkness Solution? Turn Yourself Into a Reptile Juice? Hooray For Shakespeare Fizzling Drink?”
“None of your business, Potter,” Severus snapped back.
“Well, I’d say it is my business, since I’m carrying the damn things…”
“You volunteered,” Severus said pointedly. “But if it’s too heavy for the big, brave Quidditch hero, just let me know and I’ll take it back.”
James scowled and shut his mouth. A sullen silence fell as they slogged on.
“You’re just jealous,” said James suddenly. He scratched at another insect bite on his neck and pulled at his collar.
“Of what?” demanded Severus.
“I’m a Quidditch star and you’re not. I have real friends and you don’t. I’m top in every class—”
“Except Potions.” Severus’s voice came out a silken whisper. “I beat you in Potions every time, Potter.”
James gritted his teeth. This was true: Potions was James’s worst subject, while Severus was consistently top in the class. It occurred to James that the Animagus potion would be a lot easier to create if the Marauders had Severus Snape on their side. Hell, Severus could probably whip it up in his sleep. For a moment, the crazy idea of asking Severus to help crossed James’s mind…
He shook his head. He must be even hungrier than he’d thought. He was starting to hallucinate. “You’re still just a weird little curse-obsessed git who no one likes, Snape!”
“Except Lily Evans.” Severus’s voice was quieter and more certain than ever. “She’s my friend. And she doesn’t like you at all, Potter.”
James came to a halt. He turned to glare at Severus. “So, what, you think Evans is going to date a slimy little loser like you?”
“Better a slimy loser than a bullying toe-rag, Potter. That’s what she calls you, you know. A nasty, arrogant, self-important little toe-rag—”
James dropped the basket and whipped out his wand. But Severus had his wand out already. They stood in angry stalemate, glaring daggers at one another.
It was Severus who lowered his wand first, with a heavy sigh. “Why are we still fighting like this, Potter?” He sounded unutterably weary.
“I don’t know,” James surprised himself by admitting. “I guess it’s habit. And we’re both hungry.”
“If we don’t work together to get out of here,” said Severus quietly, “we’ll be worse than hungry. We’ll be dead.”
“Yeah. I know.” James forced himself to put his wand away. “Sorry about what I said, Snape.”
“All right.” Severus stood back while James retrieved the basket, putting the fallen berries back in. They marched on in mutual unhappy silence.
They were still not speaking that evening, when they made camp by the stream. The Forest rang with the cries of nocturnal creatures, insects and night birds, the occasional hoot of an owl. Bats flittered overhead. Severus cast the wards while James set up camp, heaping up leaves for beds and lighting the fire. He tried to go fishing and hunting for crayfish, but had no luck.
“Some wilderness wizard you are,” Severus muttered as they ate an inadequate dinner of berries and Severus’s chocolate bars.
“It’s not my fault there aren’t any fish in this stretch of stream,” James snapped back. “Or maybe you’d like to try?”
They finished eating in a scratchy silence and went to bed, stomachs rumbling, facing away from each other.
James awoke to something clomping down onto the ground beside his head. A long equine sigh.
His eyes snapped open and he jerked up, one hand going to his wand, the other to his glasses. It was a dark, gray sort of morning, a cloudy light filtering through the Forest canopy. Through this murk, and his own dizziness, James at first had a hard time understanding what he was seeing: a very large composite form that was somehow both a sturdy, light-brown horse with hairy hooves and a man frowning down at him.
Then James’s brain clicked. “Centaur!” he blurted out.
“Well spotted,” said the centaur crisply. “Would you mind taking down the wards you’ve set up, so we can talk properly?”
James tore his gaze away to glance around. Severus was coming awake, stirring and blinking at their new companions: four centaurs, two male and two female, pacing around the perimeter of Severus’s spell-wards, faces grim, eyes unfriendly. The females were bare-breasted, James saw, his face heating. More to the point, they were all carrying weapons: bows and arrows on their backs, and long daggers that were almost swords buckled around their human waists.
He turned back to the first centaur. “If we take down the wards,” he said, “do we have your word you won’t try to hurt us?”
“Yes, unless you try anything foolish,” was the centaur’s less-than-reassuring response. “Can you manage that?”
“Potter…” Severus murmured warningly. He was sitting bolt upright now, his wand out, his eyes wide.
“We won’t do anything like that, will we, Snape?” James spoke loud and clear.
“No,” Severus replied, eyes still on the centaurs. “Of course not.” He stood, slow and stiff, brushing pieces of leaf out of his hair. “I’ll take down the wards now, shall I?”
James rose too, and held his wand “at the quiet”: drawn, but lowered so it lay along his pantleg, unthreateningly. Severus took down the wards, murmuring the counter-spells quietly. The centaurs watched, still grim, their hands on their daggers.
When the last of Severus’s spells had dissipated with an almost audible pop, the lead centaur stepped forward. “Who are you and what are you doing in our Forest?”
No need for niceties, then. “I’m James Potter and this is Severus Snape. We’re students at Hogwarts.” James reddened a little. Surely the centaurs must already know that, since he and Severus were in their school uniforms, dirty and wrinkled though they were. “We don’t mean to trespass, truly,” he continued hastily. “We’re trying to get out of here as quickly as possible. We ended up here because of um, an accident. A magical accident. On the train.” He reddened even further. Something about the centaurs’ cool, assessing gazes made the incident seem even more foolish and childish than before.
“James Potter, is it?” One of the female centaurs let out a contemptuous snort. “Not meaning to trespass in our Forest? Well, that will be the first time you and your little friends have been in our Forest without meaning to trespass!”
A quiet snigger ran through the centaurs. Severus smirked. James felt like he could have boiled an egg on his face.
“Look, I’m…sorry,” he managed. “But it really was an accident this time.”
“He’s right,” Severus surprised him by saying. “We truly didn’t intend to come here.”
The lead centaur let out a long sigh, looking suddenly weary. “I can see that.” He looked the boys over critically. “You both need food.” His dark eyes cut to Severus. “And you are in pain.” It was not a question.
The leader looked them over a moment more, thoughts racing behind his dark gaze. Then at last he motioned the other centaurs aside. They huddled together in low-voiced conference, swishing their tails and occasionally stamping their hooves.
James wished very much to know what they were saying, but didn’t dare get close enough to eavesdrop. Severus leaned over. “Looks like the centaurs don’t like you, Potter,” he muttered.
“Shut up,” James returned in a halfhearted sotto voce. “So I’ve been in the Forest a couple of times with the Marauders. We didn’t do any harm.”
“I don’t think they agree, Potter,” said Severus, a gloating note in his voice. “Looks like not everyone thinks you Marauders are so funny.”
Before James could reply, the centaurs broke up their huddle. Both boys quieted, standing straighter, as the leader trotted back.
“We have decided,” he said without preamble. “Andromeda and I will go to our village and return with food supplies and healing salve. We will then take you to a path you may use to leave the Forest and return to the castle.”
“Really?” James couldn’t stop the beam of happiness and relief. “Thank you!”
“Yes.” Severus bowed. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us,” growled the leader. “There is enough evil in our Forest these days without adding a pair of lost wizard children to the brew. We will show you to the path, but after that you must go alone. We will not be able to help you further.”
“Why not?” James asked, ignoring Severus’s frantic shushing motions.
The centaur’s face hardened, his eyes turning shadowy and obscure. “There is great evil in our Forest,” he said softly. He sounded as though he was no longer entirely present. “An evil from the hands of wizards. We will not interfere. We must not interfere. Wizards have made this evil, so wizards must unmake it.”
“What—” James began, before Severus interrupted by kicking his ankle. “Ow!”
“Don’t irritate them,” Severus hissed.
The leader was already turning away, as though he had quite lost interest in the boys. One of the female centaurs fell into step beside him. “Wait here,” the leader called back over his shoulder. Then he and his companion were gone, disappearing into the Forest’s shadows with startling rapidity.
Left alone with the remaining two centaurs, James and Severus shuffled, eyeing their companions uncomfortably. A crow suddenly screeched from a nearby tree, and the male centaur grabbed his dagger, four hooves prancing as he startled aside. The centaurs were jumpy about something, James decided. What was going on in the Forest that got them so antsy?
The remaining female centaur approached, digging around a pouch hanging from the belt on her human waist. She withdrew two solid bars that instantly riveted James’s attention. “Pemmican,” the centaur explained. “Here, take it.”
The boys needed no further encouragement, taking the bars and stuffing them into their mouths. The pemmican exploded with flavor in James’s mouth: fat and dried meat and dried berries. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as the fat spread across his tongue. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.
“Thank you,” he mumbled out at last.
“You’re hungry,” the centaur woman said simply. She eyed Severus with an assessing gaze. “Take your shirt off, young wizard.”
“What?” Severus stopped chewing in his surprise.
“Take your shirt off, so I may treat your wounds,” she said. “Lomair will return with a healing salve, but I have the means to numb the pain until he returns.”
Severus hesitated, but at last shrugged off his school robe and unbuttoned his shirt. James found himself eyeing the Slytherin’s bare chest. Severus was skinny, his ribs showing, but there was good structure there, if the other boy could build himself up a little…James looked away, as much out of confusion as respect for Severus’s modesty, when the other boy turned around, presenting his bruised back to the centaur.
She’d taken out a handful of dark leaves from another pouch and was chewing them up. At last, she spat out a dark green pulp, which she began to apply to Severus’s wounds. He hissed, tensing with pain at her touch, gentle though it was. “Your father was not careful with you,” she observed.
James’s head jerked back, his eyes wide. Severus jerked too, his head whipping around at the centaur. “How did you—?” He broke off, flushing as he eyed James.
“You were just returning to school from your home,” the centaur explained, spreading her makeshift poultice around on Severus’s back. “And these bruises were left by a human man’s fist. It is logical, therefore, to assume that your father did this to you. Hold still.”
Severus fell silent, eyeing James as though afraid of what the Gryffindor would say. But, for once, James had no words. Severus’s father had done that to him? Those were not trivial wounds on Severus’s back. What kind of father would do something like that to his son?
“Severus…” he began, but Severus turned his face away, two red spots burning on his pale cheeks.
James fell silent. It was only later that he realized this was the first time he’d ever addressed Severus by his given name.
James was glad when the other two centaurs returned at last, when the sun was canting green and gold through the branches. The male, Lomair, bore a heavy pack constructed of bark and branches and carried a ceramic jar in one hand. The female trotted alongside him, one hand on her dagger, eyes assessing the Forest.
Lomair trotted up to James and, without ceremony, swung down the pack and handed it to him. “Food for your journey,” Lomair explained.
“Thank you!” James staggered a little under the pack’s weight.
“There’s enough in there for you both to last four days,” said Lomair. “You should reach the castle by then.” He eyed Severus, who had shrugged on his shirt and robe again and was staring at the ground. “Let me see your wounds, boy.”
Face burning, Severus consented to strip off his shirt and robe again, and let Lomair smear healing poultice over his welts and bruises. James felt a pang of sympathy. It was bad enough being lost, hungry and in pain without having to repeatedly strip down for these unnerving, inhuman strangers and submit to their cool, efficient ministrations. Not to mention having the strangers spill Severus’s secret in front of James…James’s mind flinched back yet again from that revelation. It was just too awful.
At last, Lomair finished. While they waited for the poultice to dry, the female centaur gave both boys another piece of pemmican, which they wolfed down. “Thank you,” said James again. “You’re being very generous to us.”
“Just get out of our Forest, as fast as you can.” The words were unfriendly, but Lomair’s tone was surprisingly gentle. He glanced up at the canopy, now bright with sunlight. “The poultice should be dry enough by now. Put your clothes back on, boy. We must get going. We’ve wasted nearly half the day.”
Severus put his shirt and robe back on, and he and James divided up their luggage. Severus took back his satchel and Shakespeare book, while James took up the heavy pack, settling the braided straps over his shoulders. It was weighty and awkward, but he reveled in the amount of food that must be inside.
The centaurs started off into the Forest, away from the stream, and James and Severus followed.
Hiking through the Forest was much easier with the centaurs cutting a path. Still, James and Severus lagged behind: the centaurs naturally walked faster than humans, and the boys were weighed down, James by the pack and Severus by his wounds. More than once the centaurs had to stop and wait for them to catch up. Overhead, the sun slanted ever sharper, before starting to fade altogether. James was starting to wonder if they’d have to spend the night out with the centaurs when Lomair swept aside a handful of brush and they stepped onto a trail winding through the trees.
James and Severus both sighed with relief and pleasure. The path was wide and well-maintained, an earthen trail winding off into the darkening Forest, its edges defined by rows of white stones. James’s spirits rose at the sight: it would be ten times easier to navigate the Forest now that they had a path. A hundred times.
Lomair pointed off down the trail. “Follow the path in this direction,” he instructed. “And stay on it. You should reach the castle within four days, perhaps less.” He paused. “And take care, young wizards. As we’ve said, there is great evil in our Forest now.”
“What is the evil?” James couldn’t help asking again.
The centaurs’ faces all grew shuttered, their eyes shadowed with sudden, mysterious distance. “It comes from wizards,” was all Lomair said. “We cannot speak of it.” He pawed the earth, the odd darkness falling from his face. “We must return to our village now,” he said more briskly. “Spend the night here, young wizards—and stay on the path.”
James and Severus both bowed. “Thank you,” said Severus. “We greatly appreciate your generosity and your aid.”
“What is will be,” said Lomair softly. He inclined his head and turned away, leading the other centaurs off. Within minutes, they’d disappeared.
James felt a pang at their departure. The centaurs hadn’t exactly been friendly, but they’d given aid and guidance and protection. Now that they’d gone, he and Severus were very alone.
James turned away. “Well.” With a grunt of effort, he took off the pack, lowering it to the ground. “We should set up camp here, like they said.”
“Yes.” Severus took off his satchel, wincing only slightly.
James eyed him sidelong. “How’s your back?” he asked quietly.
“Fine.” Severus didn’t look at him. “That salve really helped.”
“Snape…” James moistened his lips nervously. “Is it true what that centaur said…? Your own father…?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Severus’s voice came down hard, cutting off the conversation.
“Okay,” said James after a moment. He turned to see what might be in the pack.
To his great pleasure, it was indeed full of supplies: more pemmican, dried meat, cakes of acorn flour, dried fish, dried berries, mushrooms, along with canteens of water. James hefted one up with a triumphant grin. “We’ll have a feast tonight!”
“We should ration ourselves,” said Severus. “Just in case.” Still, his eyes lingered hungrily on the food.
James tossed him a piece of smoked salmon. “Lighten up, Severus. We’ll be back at school in no time!” He paused. “Unless we run into that ‘great evil’ the centaurs were talking about. What do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know.” Severus already had his wand out, casting the first protective wards. “They weren’t keen on giving straight answers, were they?”
“Centaurs never are, from what I’ve heard.” James chewed another piece of pemmican, beginning to hunt down material for bedding. It was too bad the centaurs hadn’t given them bedrolls or a change of clothes. But he supposed centaurs had no use for such things. And besides, the pack would have been impossible to carry with such extra weight. “Still, we might be able to avoid the ‘great evil’ if we just stay on the path.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Severus while darkness started to seep into the trees and around them the Forest began its nighttime song.