After parting ways with the eight-eyed giant spider, Victor and Hagrid stepped back into the dim expanse of the Forbidden Forest. It was a winter night, and the surroundings were hushed, save for the faint crunch of Victor's and Hagrid's boots pressing into the snow.
As they walked, Hagrid brought up the topic that still gnawed at him, one he couldn't quite wrap his head around.
"What d'you reckon Aragog's so afraid of? What kinda monster could it be? There shouldn't be anything that scary at the school."
"I don't know," Victor replied as he stepped over a fallen pine log. "Like I said before, my spell only reveals what they fear most. But what exactly it shows them? That's beyond me."
"As for monsters at school… my Sight tells me this year's going to be a bit bumpy. Considering we've already had a troll show up, it's not too surprising if there's something else lurking around."
"That's different," Hagrid countered. "That troll was brought in by Quirrell with Dumbledore's permission. It just got out of hand by accident."
"Oh?"
"Well, I shouldn't say too much," Hagrid scratched his head, "but it was during that… that business with Fluffy that it was secretly snuck in. The school doesn't naturally have trolls. They stink somethin' awful and attack anything that moves—a proper disaster. Couldn't even keep 'em in the Forbidden Forest."
"I see," Victor said evenly.
But as he spoke, he thoughtfully let his eyes drift shut for a moment—so the troll was Quirrell's doing, but it got out of control under his watch? That didn't quite add up.
Quirrell had managed to crack that alchemical formula in a single Christmas season, which meant he wasn't some bumbling amateur. A wizard of that caliber, even if he had to scramble for research mid-fight, shouldn't have let a troll spiral into a rampaging mess.
The idea that the troll's "accident" had some hidden purpose was starting to feel awfully intriguing.
Victor was still lost in his musings when a rustling sound erupted from the dense thicket ahead. It started faint but grew closer, louder, more insistent…
Until it stopped, just a short distance away.
At that moment, Fang, trailing behind Victor, took a few steps back, tucking his tail and cowering behind his master.
Hagrid raised his lantern a bit higher, aiming it toward the source of the noise. But there was no trace of worry on his face. Instead, he turned to Victor with an explanation.
"Oh, probably just a centaur or two. We've crossed into their territory. This happens to be the quickest route back to Hogwarts, so runnin' into one's nothin' unusual. Don't fret—they're usually friendly enough."
Before Hagrid could finish, the branches in front of him parted, and out stepped a centaur.
From the waist up, he was human, with red hair and a beard, but below that stretched the gleaming chestnut body of a horse, complete with a long red tail trailing behind.
Yet, contrary to Hagrid's assurances, as the centaur slowly advanced, his hooves clicking softly, he gripped a small bow in his hands.
The arrow pointed downward, but his fingers clutched it tightly, as if ready to lift and loose it at a moment's notice.
From the second he emerged, the centaur's red eyes fixed on the pair with a solemn intensity—Hagrid had never seen them wear such an expression before.
"Oh, it's you, Ronan," Hagrid said, reaching out for a handshake. "How're yeh? This here's Victor, the Divination professor at school. We're just passin' through."
But to his surprise, the centaur named Ronan didn't return the gesture. Instead, he stepped back slightly, bow still in hand, evading Hagrid's outstretched arm. Those red eyes remained locked on them both.
"Good evening, Hagrid," Ronan said. "But you should leave. Now."
"What?"
Hagrid blinked, clearly thrown off. Ronan's words clashed entirely with the demeanor he'd come to expect.
But Ronan repeated himself in that deep, resonant voice: "Leave, Hagrid. Tonight, we do not welcome outsiders."
"But why?" Hagrid pressed, genuinely puzzled. "Is somethin' wrong on your end? Yeh know Hogwarts'll always stand by yeh. I could come help—"
"It has nothing to do with Hogwarts. This is our matter. Since two nights ago, every one of us has seen it: the comet's tail has brushed against Venus."
"Good heavens, and what's that s'posed to mean?"
Hagrid grumbled, visibly irked by the centaur's cryptic way of dodging plain speech. He knew nothing about the stars. Unfortunately, Ronan showed no inclination to clarify.
But then Victor spoke up from behind.
"Misfortune and rebellion."
"Hm? What's that now?" Hagrid asked.
"The comet's called a broom star in many places, Hagrid. It's an ill omen, a harbinger of calamity and chaos—its path is never predictable. As for Venus, it's also known as the morning star, often tied to betrayal and downfall. In many church texts, it's the angel who strayed from the path."
Victor's tone was flat, devoid of emotion, but his words seemed to strike a nerve with the centaur.
Ronan's grip on his bow tightened, and he edged back a few more steps, his posture shifting to one of guarded wariness. In a low, restrained voice, he said to Victor, "We will not defy the stars' decree. Even if rebellion is part of its hidden design, we will still abide by it."
"So leave our lands, stranger. Take one step closer, and you'll face the enmity of the centaurs. We've no interest in understanding you."
"But the stars' meaning also—"
"We need no counsel."
Ronan cut Victor off sharply before he could finish, fully raising his bow. As he did, he retreated further, his gaze still fixed on Victor—Hagrid now all but forgotten.
"Leave. This is your final warning. We seek no quarrel with anyone, but under the stars' guidance, we refuse all visitors tonight."
Victor shrugged. He'd had more to say, but Hagrid quickly stepped forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him back a few paces, signaling to the centaur that they meant no trouble.
Victor let it go.
Truth be told, he was just curious. These centaurs clearly had a profound connection to the stars, and he'd only wanted to ask what exactly they'd seen.
But with Hagrid already smoothing things over, he wasn't about to play the villain and stir up more tension.
They veered sideways, moving away from Ronan's silhouette. Yet as they retreated, more centaurs began to emerge from the trees, watching them silently from behind the foliage.
Their coats varied in hue. As they withdrew, Victor caught sight of one with black hair and a matching ebony pelt, and another with gray hair atop a brown body. Their expressions were a mix of melancholy and restless agitation; a few pawed the ground with their hooves.
Just as the pair were about to leave the area entirely, a centaur with flowing golden hair appeared from the side. His eyes were a striking blue, like twin sapphires shimmering in a dream.
Bathed in moonlight, he addressed them: "The stars' paths have been disturbed, Hagrid, but the secrets they hold remain. You must warn them to stay vigilant, for the stars foretell a dreadful triumph not far in the future. You must ensure that failure follows close behind it."