Chapter Six:
The Vehemence of Betrayal

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The Centaurs galloped towards them just as a hat dropped off from the sky. "LUNA, DEFEND! TOWARDS YOUR RIGHT!" Ron commanded. Luna's faint mutter of the shield charm came as an indistinct buzz in his ears as he tried to process what was happening.

But there was no time.

This was a wild game, more than wizarding chess, he knew it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Centaur heaving a heavy rod at Neville, who pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor from the hat and managed to throw it up in time.

Harry, Ginny and another Centaur with a claw-shaped scar were on equal footing. All three of them were agile at dodging, as well as throwing curses. In fact, their movements reminded Ron of his twin brothers; they, especially Ginny and the Centaur, moved in a synchronized pattern.

"RON!" Hermione's shriek snapped him out of his observation mood and he bent low, just in time, to escape a blazing arrow. It hit the bark of a tree, instead, and set it alight. Neville, who was near it, was shoved away by an expelling spell from Luna, who then immediately took to extinguishing the fire with the water spraying charm.

Deciding that it was not the time to observe, Ron began to start his own spellfire, switching between offense and defense to suit the cause. He put forth his left foot to have a better footing for switching often; he had mastered the perfect en garde for times like this.

In a span of what he thought was ten mere minutes, he had protected Neville from an icy-looking arrow, disarmed more than five Centaurs and got three more tied up. It was fast-paced, just like any war would be, but still filled with moments when Ron thought Time stopped by to view and rewind the events taking place.

—xoxo—

"Why are you attacking us? We did nothing to you. .  ." Harry asked, always the peacemaker. He had never wanted for a war, never wanted to witness the red rage and blood splattered all around him; he was never really a warrior by his choice.

All he had ever wished for was the safety of his loved ones. He only ever wanted to look after everyone with sharp, observant eyes that would enable him to know whether they were safe and sound within the comfort of home or not. At times, he felt like the lion of the group; the leader who wanted to protect his pack.

"It is because of your cowardice and your fears that we, Centaurs, and the other creatures of this forest have turned into victims of predators. . . human predators," a voice that Harry recognized, answered as it emerged from behind a glade. Firenze.

"Firenze?" It was unbelievable. Harry could not comprehend why, or what, on earth would turn the friendliest Centaur against him.

"It is I only enraged."

"B-but w-why?"

"Hagrid's gone. Taken by something terrible."

An apprehensive feeling shot through him, mixed with looming sadness and anger. He jumped aside from one of the arrows a Centaur had tried shooting at him. "WHAT?"

"Yes, Harry Potter! He could not face his fear! Fear of losing you! He gave himself up so you could escape!"

"This is another timeline, isn't it? A messed-up one? He's not really gone. . . has he?" Harry asked the questions more to himself than anyone else, the light in his heart fading slowly. Hermione's faint reply resonated emptily in his mind: 'it is, Harry! It's a timeline as messed up as it could be!'

"That matters no more. What matters is, if you can face your fear or not." Suddenly, almost frighteningly, a black shadow loomed over, darkening the already dark skies and screaming at an ungodly pitch. Harry felt weak, vulnerable, and out of hope at its sight: the dementor which even now demented him. . .oh, he was no lion.

It suddenly shape-shifted, causing Harry's knees to buckle. Gee, this was even worse: the corpse of Ginny Weasley. "No. . .no. . ."

"That, Harry Potter, was how Hagrid felt when time was running out for him!" Firenze howled. Dread shot through Harry, which was replaced by the urge to fly and give his enemy the perfect treatment talons and sharp beaks would. However, he could not act upon it. A rod had come down on his head, rendering him dizzy. His eyes blurred; he felt his heartbeat diminishing.

"Harry, no! I'm alive!" Her muffled voice was barely audible in his fuzzy ears and perplexed brain. He was seeing dark spots – a sign of losing consciousness. More familiar voices shouted; at him or not, he did not know. A loud bang, followed up by the sound of a powerful incantation being placed upon him were the last things he heard before collapsing to the ground. Ginny obliterating her clone in disgust was the last thing he witnessed before his eyes gave in to slipping consciousness.

—xoxo—

When Ron was done tying up another Centaur, he spotted Harry falling to his knees, hit by a rod on the head. To the bespectacled boy's right was a shadow, speeding like a bull to strike. Ron's eyes widened as he realized that the shadow, a Centaur, might be there to finish his best mate off in not more than a minute. "GINNY! AIM A REDUCTOR AT THE SKY!" Ron screamed at the top of his voice, running towards Harry and, hoping that his sister — who was already close to Harry — would be able to hear his command. Luckily, she heard him and did as she was told. Ron pointed his wand above his head at the exact moment when he reached Harry.

"Protego!"

The branches of the tree that Ginny had broken using the reductor rained down upon them, only deflected by the shield which glowed lightly as the bark fell all around, resins and leaves following the downfall of its previous home. The branches all formed a circle around the shield and remained grounded even when Ron lifted the charm. The speeding Centaur was forced to stop as shingles of the broken wood splintered its hooves. It cried out in pain, but there was no time to show mercy. That was simply how war worked.

—xoxo—

With a slash, Neville disarmed a Centaur. The rod fell feet away and he gave no chance for the beast to recover it. At least, Luna didn't. The girl showed just how creativity can be used even in the heat of war by sending a jet of water, conjured by a simple aguamenti, at the half-man, half-horse. By the time the Centaur came to its senses, it was tied up.

They exchanged a quick high-five before Luna started shooting sprays of water at the ones approaching their captured pal. This strongly distracted the Centaurs, enough for Neville to disarm them with consecutive slashes of the Sword of Gryffindor.

Oh, he knew it all right: they made the perfect pair. Sword fighting and water guns were a deadly combo, together with creativity and determination.

It's been an awfully long time, indeed. My apologies for that! I'll try to be more punctual!

Thank you for reading!

Miyoko x