A dish best served cold

17

Itchy skin woke Harry, dried leaves poking into his skin. His arms splayed to the side, his face stinging with dirt in the wounds. His eyes fluttered open, and slowing bringing his hands next to his body, he pushed up off the ground and got to his knees. It was dark, the trees lined with silver light from the moon. He turned his head slowly, looking back towards Hogsmeade, and he could see a faint orange glow above the trees in the sky. Something about the world was strange though. Like part of it was missing. The fiery sky looked far away though. Farther than he could have been thrown from the blast.

The blast. With that thought, the stinging in his face turned to a heavy throb, and he curled in on himself, holding his face, but immediately letting go. Touching it only made it worse, and he couldn't tell just how badly he was hurt. His entire face and head hurt, so he would have to wait until he was back at the school to find out. Unfortunately for him, he had felt one thing. Or a lack of one thing. And had he been fully conscious and aware of the implications, he might have been more horrified. Maybe he would have screamed.

He had no right eye. But now was not the time to dwell on that. He could panic later. Taking a deep breath, he kept himself calm.

He couldn't see the school from here, but based on the direction of the orange sky over Hogsmeade, he could hazard a guess, and so, he pushed up off his knees, and stood upright. The world wobbled for a moment as the blood rushed out of his head. Holding the tree next to him, he waited for the world to stop, and with stuttered steps, he headed for home.

He didn't get far. Three steps from the tree he had been holding and his legs gave out. The ground rushed forward, ready to pound his body with a painful blow, but a pair of powerful arms caught him as hooves came into view.

"Relax, Harry," said the Centaur. "You don't need to go anywhere for now."

Harry looked up into the face of Firenze, who had happened upon Harry only moments ago, and was watching the boy get awaken. Bane sent Firenze out to scour the area to make sure no goblins had made their way into the forest. The two groups did not hate each other, but there was certainly no love between them, and the forest was centaur domain, now and forever, in the minds of the horse-people.

"Firenze," Harry whispered. "My friends." He blinked slowly as he was set on his feet and supported by the centaur. "I have to get back to the school." He tried to start walking again, but the centaur held onto him, preventing his movement.

"Stay where you are Harry," the being spoke, his tone brooking no argument. He pulled out an arrow from his quiver, and raised the arrow head to his lips. He blew lightly, causing the tip to glow a strange red-orange. Knocking the arrow on his bow, he pulled the string back and fired into the trees. Fifty feet from them, the arrow flared out with a great shine of light, and transformed into a bird, which flapped its wings swiftly, and took off into the trees, weaving in and out of the trunks, heading deeper into the forest.

"Now, Harry, why don't we sit down and talk? I'll build a fire so you can get warm, and you can relax while we wait for the others to show up." Firenze led him slowly over to the clearing that Harry had woken up in, and pushed him down lightly into a seated position.

"Others?" inquired Harry. "Who's coming?" His head was still cloudy and he was having trouble thinking.

Firenze gave him a look as if it should be obvious, but realizing the likely state of Harry's head, the boy probably suffering from a concussion, he patiently explained, "The other centaurs are coming. They will search the area to see if there are any other students, but I doubt there are. I searched this area thoroughly, and you were getting up from the ground in the last place I was going to check before going back."