The night was cold and sharp, the kind that made Oliver's breath plume white as he stood with Nyx perched on his shoulder. She shifted restlessly, her claws digging lightly into the fabric of his robe. Ahead of him, lantern light swung as Hagrid strode across the frost-tipped grass, leading a small herd of unicorns behind him. Their silver coats shimmered faintly even under the moon, otherworldly and solemn.
Dumbledore was already waiting by the edge of the pumpkin patch, hands folded lightly over his robes. A small group of centaurs stood with him—tall, proud, their bows strapped to their backs, eyes filled with the quiet fire of distrust.
Oliver swallowed hard. He had thought showing them the sanctuary would be simple—open the trunk, show them the meadow and the streams, let the unicorns roam. But now, with their gazes fixed on him like cold stars, the weight of what he was asking pressed heavily on his shoulders.
One of the centaurs, his hair streaked with grey, stepped forward. "You called us from our watch for this?" His voice was low, smooth, but edged with suspicion. "The herd belongs to the forest. To move them is to strip them of their freedom."
Oliver straightened. His hands shook slightly, but his voice did not falter. "I'm not trying to take them from you. I'm only offering them a safe place until the danger passes. Something—someone—is killing them. Here, they can rest."
A younger centaur snorted. "A cage dressed as a meadow is still a cage."
Before Oliver could answer, Hagrid stepped in, towering over them. "Now listen here—Oliver's worked with the Flamels themselves on this place. Ain't no cage. It's bigger on the inside than yeh'd believe, with streams, trees, everythin' they'll need. He's only thinkin' of their safety."
The centaurs shifted, murmuring amongst themselves. Their hooves stamped lightly against the ground, a sound like distant thunder.
Dumbledore's voice cut softly through the tension. "Why not look for yourselves? The boy has prepared much. If it does not suit your herd, they will be free to leave again."
Oliver nodded quickly. "Please. Just see it. Then decide."
With a deep breath, Oliver bent, touched the latch, and opened the enchanted trunk.
The staircase shimmered into existence, leading downward into the sanctuary. Warm light spilled up through the opening, golden and inviting. Nyx leapt from his shoulder and glided gracefully down the steps, her wings leaving faint streaks of starry blue fire in the air.
The centaurs exchanged wary looks. Then, one by one, they descended, hooves striking the stone steps without hesitation. Hagrid followed, leading the unicorns carefully into the trunk. Oliver lingered at the top for a moment, heart racing, before hurrying after them.
The sanctuary opened before them in all its quiet glory.
Rolling meadows stretched into the distance, lit by enchanted starlight cast across the ceiling. A stream cut a silver ribbon through the grass, its banks lined with herbs and wildflowers Oliver and Penny had planted together. Trees arched gently overhead in places, their leaves glimmering faintly in hues of green and blue, enchanted to thrive no matter the season.
The unicorns hesitated at first, hooves stamping nervously. Their ears flicked, nostrils flaring as they caught the unfamiliar scents.
Then, a foal—its mane shimmering like spun silver—took a tentative step forward. It sniffed the grass, pawed at it, then bent its head to graze. Slowly, the tension rippled through the herd and broke. One by one, the unicorns lowered their heads and began to move into the meadow.
Oliver let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"They're… they're settling," he whispered.
Hagrid's broad grin stretched across his bearded face. "Told yeh they'd take to it. Look at 'em. Happier already."
The centaurs remained silent, though their sharp eyes scanned every detail. One crouched low to run his hand through the grass, another tested the stream's water with his palm. The grey-haired leader stood still, gazing at Oliver with a look he could not read.
Oliver stepped forward, voice steady. "This isn't meant to replace the forest. It's temporary. Just until you know they're safe again. All I ask…" He hesitated, glancing toward the potion bench and alchemy tables that glowed faintly in the distance. "All I ask is that they stay clear of the workshop. I've set aside places just for them, places meant for peace. The lab is for my work. Everything else is theirs."
The unicorns, as if understanding, wandered deeper into the meadows. A pair of them knelt to drink from the stream. The foal that had stepped forward first pranced close to Oliver, brushing its nose against his hand. He froze, then smiled, stroking the soft muzzle gently.
Nyx circled above, her wings scattering faint sparks like falling stars. The unicorns lifted their heads, ears flicking toward her, but rather than shy away, they seemed almost comforted.
Behind Oliver, he felt Dumbledore's gaze. The Headmaster spoke quietly, but the words carried.
"You offer them more than safety, Oliver. You offer them dignity. Few at your age would think so carefully."
Oliver flushed, but his chest swelled with pride. For once, the praise did not feel undeserved.
The centaurs continued their pacing, testing wards, listening to the soil. Their voices rose and fell in hushed tones, their judgment still undecided. Oliver waited, heart hammering, while the unicorns roamed freely through the meadow.
He prayed that when the verdict came, it would be in his favor.
The centaurs' murmurs echoed across the meadow like low thunder. They traced the stream, brushed their hands against the enchanted bark of the trees, and paused to watch as the unicorns lowered their heads to drink. Their eyes gleamed in the starlight that shimmered faintly across the ceiling of the sanctuary, unreadable and sharp.
Oliver stood very still. His palms itched, and his heart beat in his throat. He wanted to speak again, to explain, to plead—but something told him silence mattered more here. He waited, letting them see, letting them decide on their own.
At last, the grey-haired centaur turned. His gaze fixed on Oliver, as piercing as an arrow.
"This place," he said slowly, "is not the forest. Its stars are not the stars, its streams not the streams of the earth. Yet…" He paused, scanning the herd, who now grazed peacefully, coats glowing like moonlight. "They are content. Safer than they have been for many nights. That cannot be ignored."
A ripple of agreement moved through the group. A younger centaur muttered something about the balance of the world, but even he did not sound wholly opposed.
The leader stepped closer, lowering his head slightly. "The herd may remain here. But harmony must be kept. Should this place falter—should you meddle in ways you do not understand—we will withdraw them, and the pact will end."
Oliver bowed his head, relief flooding him. "Thank you. I only wanted to help."
He hesitated, then added quickly, "But if it eases your minds, some of you are welcome to stay here with them. Not as guards—" he raised his hands, eager to make the distinction clear—"but as companions. You've cared for them longer than I have. I'd be grateful for your guidance."
The centaurs exchanged looks. Silence stretched for a long moment. Then, to Oliver's surprise, one of the younger ones stepped forward. His mane of dark hair gleamed under the starlight, his posture strong and certain.
"I will stay," he said simply. "My name is Caelum. If danger comes, I will meet it here."
A moment later, a female centaur followed. She had a crown of braided hair and steady, thoughtful eyes that softened as they turned to the unicorns. "And I, Lyra, will remain as well. The herd will rest easier if one of their kindred sisters is among them."
The others nodded, some with reluctance, but none objected.
Oliver let out the breath he'd been holding and gave them a grateful smile. "Then… welcome. This place is yours as much as theirs. I'll do everything I can to make sure it remains safe."
As if sensing the resolution, the unicorns drifted deeper into the meadows. Two foals chased each other near the stream, their laughter-like neighs ringing through the air. One adult mare brushed past Lyra, nuzzling her arm as if already accepting her presence.
Oliver's chest warmed at the sight.
Above, Nyx circled, her feathers scattering sparks of starry blue that rained down gently. They flickered across the meadow like falling embers, and the unicorns lifted their heads, ears pricking toward the light. Instead of fear, there was only calm.
Dumbledore, standing slightly apart, inclined his head. "It seems they approve."
Oliver glanced at him, cheeks hot, but the Headmaster's eyes held no mockery—only quiet pride.
When the centaurs finally withdrew, leaving Caelum and Lyra behind, Oliver remained in the sanctuary with Hagrid. They walked in silence for a while, watching the herd explore their new refuge.
"Yeh did somethin' good here, Oliver," Hagrid said at last, his voice thick. "Not many could've convinced 'em. Not many would've even tried."
Oliver ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck. "I just… I didn't want to see any more of them hurt. That's all."
Hagrid chuckled, clapping him gently on the shoulder—though even gentle nearly knocked Oliver off balance. "That's enough, lad. That's enough."
Later, alone again, Oliver sat cross-legged on the edge of the stream, watching the unicorns graze under the enchanted starlight.
The sanctuary no longer felt like his workshop. It was something larger now, something alive. A refuge, a trust, a responsibility.
Nyx swooped down to land beside him, her feathers brushing his arm. He stroked her absentmindedly, eyes on the herd.
"I'll keep it safe," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I promise."
The phoenix hummed, the sound resonating through the air, weaving into the night. The unicorns shifted closer, as if drawn to the sound. Caelum and Lyra stood silently at the edge of the meadow, already blending into their new duty.
Oliver smiled faintly.
This was only the beginning.