A Helping Hand

Chapter 9

Harry quickly fell into a routine after his world had been so drastically altered. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays he would train with the centaurs, usually under the instruction of either Bane, Firenze or Magorian. However, for his first training session, the three senior centaurs led him deep into the heart of the Forest, into a clearing he had never seen before, into a clearing he'd be willing to bet even Hagrid had never set foot in before. He couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't quite identify it but the clearing gave off a certain...aura, the first word that came to his mind was 'mystical', as if it had been ripped straight from legend.

In the centre of the clearing was a stone column, about five foot in height, but disjointed and uneven, worn down by the elements. Elaborate carvings covered every inch of the stone, images of swords, lions and hats painstakingly carved into immortality. Despite the fascinating nature of the column, the real piece de resistance was a simple book hovering not more than a few inches above the column. The cover of the book was a rich red, yet it had clearly seen better days. It was battered, the pages yellowed and worn, the fragile spine barely holding the tome together. Yet Harry could somehow sense the majestic power that resided within the pages, the knowledge calling his name.

Tearing his gaze away from the monument - that's what it was, a monument, a tribute to a long since passed time - he looked towards the centaurs, his eyes conveying the question he was unable to put into words. Firenze deemed himself the one to answer the question, stepping forward. "This, young foal, is the lost journal of Godric Gryffindor." At Harry's look of shock and disbelief, he chuckled to himself, as did Magorian and Bane, before continuing his explanation.

"Long ago, before the castle was raised by the Four Founders, this land we now stand in was merely a forest and a lake. We centaurs, the ancestors of our ancestors were the first to settle in this land, finding a home in this very forest we now stand in. Well we were technically not the first being here, it was she who now slumbers in the water who first imbued this land with magic, she is the reason, she is the essence of Hogwarts. All creatures, as Aragog could confirm would obey her commands but she has not been truly active in years. She may display motion, a tentacle here, a splash there but she is not truly awake, having no reason to rouse herself..."

The centaur trailed off, he and the rest of the herd looking wistfully through the trees to what Harry believes was the direction of the Black Lake. But before Harry could ask any of the new questions that had sprung into his mind, Firenze collected himself, shaking his back and forth as if he was kicking his brain into gear. He then stepped back, smiling ruefully at Harry as Magorian resumed the ancient tale.

"Despite her majesty, that is not what we were discussing. As Firenze was saying, we centaurs were here when the land that would become Hogwarts was just a wild moor. For generations we lived, undisturbed by humans, until one day a young man, barely twenty years stumbled across this place and decided to settle with his young wife. We were curious, and pleasantly surprised when this man treated us with respect and deference, asking of us nothing but an opportunity to learn - much like you yourself now. We trained him to harness, control and amplify his magic, like no other had done before or would do again. We also trained him in the art of the sword, and of the bow. The young man's name, as you may suspect, was Godric Gryffindor."

Bowing his head as he finished his part of the tale, Magorian smiled as he looked at the shocked expression on Harry's face, before he, like Firenze had done stepped back to rejoin his companions. This time it was Bane who stepped forward, the bearded centaur looking directly into Harry's eyes.

"After training with our ancestors for many years, Gryffindor left to forge his own way in the world. He shared our lessons with others, with three other notable individuals whose identities I'm sure you can figure out - but he never told them everything, keeping the heart of our lessons within his chest. Many years later, he and those three individuals returned to this magic filled land, in order to create what is now known as the Castle of Hogwarts. Over time, Gryffindor passed down his knowledge through different generations, always keeping our greatest secrets to himself. As well as these secrets, he noted down his own ideas and techniques, all of them very powerful and advanced in their own right. When he at last lay on his deathbed, he compiled all of his knowledge, withdrawing no information, in this journal before your eyes. He gave it to us, asking that we would not reveal it to anyone who was unworthy of it. You, Harry Potter, are the first person in a millennia to gaze upon this tome."