Chapter 127: Fragments of the Future
On the way back to Hagrid's hut, everyone maintained a tacit silence.
No one asked Elian what had happened or why the centaur Magorian had suddenly surrendered to him. The questions hung in the air, unspoken but heavy.
"Oh, Fang, down boy, down!" Hagrid said, pushing away his enthusiastic boarhound as they entered the hut. He hung his massive bow back on its hook by the door and turned to face the students. "Right then. Time for you lot to head back to the castle. Thank you for coming today—I know it wasn't easy."
Hagrid genuinely appreciated their help. He knew how difficult it was to deal with a real giant, even a small one like Grawp.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione still looked dazed, their minds struggling to process everything that had happened. Too much had occurred in too short a time—their thoughts felt scrambled, disconnected.
"Don't ask me," Elian said quickly, seeing them all turn to stare at him. He shrugged, affecting innocence. "I don't know either. We were all there together. Who knows what that centaur was thinking?"
"Oh, mate, I'm so jealous," Ron said, throwing an arm around Elian's shoulders with unexpected enthusiasm. "That was brilliant. A whole herd of centaurs, just... surrendering like that!"
His eyes were shining with vicarious excitement.
"Come on, Ron," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes. "Don't be stupid. And don't ask Elian to show you the centaurs—they'd probably tear you apart."
Ron laughed and let go of Elian's shoulders, but his grin remained.
Hermione walked over to Elian and circled him twice, studying him with narrowed eyes. "Are you hiding something from me? Something besides the whole Giant Mountains thing?"
Elian shook his head helplessly. This feels like being interrogated by a suspicious wife when you come home late, he thought with a touch of amusement.
"Alright, that's enough," Hagrid said, shooing them toward the door. "Off you go, before it gets any later."
He didn't ask Elian about the centaurs. Whatever had happened, Hagrid figured it was between the boy and Magorian.
But before Elian left, he and Hagrid agreed to meet in three days' time for the journey to the Giant Mountains.
This time, Hermione didn't argue. Neither did Harry or Ron.
After all, Hagrid had made it clear: they could only come if Professor Dumbledore agreed. And that was obviously impossible. Dumbledore would never allow students—especially Harry—to venture into such danger.
That night, deep in the Forbidden Forest, a very important meeting was being held.
"Magorian, what the hell were you thinking?" Bane roared, pacing back and forth in agitation. "How could you choose to surrender to a human? Do you even understand what you've done?"
He was furious. Magorian's actions weren't just embarrassing—they were a betrayal of everything the centaurs stood for.
Magorian stood in the center of a large clearing, surrounded by the entire herd. Every centaur was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. Demanding one.
Ronan paced nearby—a centaur with red hair and beard, a glossy chestnut body, and a long red tail. His voice was deeper and slower than the others, but it carried weight.
"Calm yourself, Bane," Ronan said. "I'm sure Magorian has his reasons."
He turned to face the gathered herd.
"Have you all forgotten? Magorian is the most gifted diviner among our people. If he saw something in the stars—"
Instantly, the muttering stopped. The centaurs fell silent, waiting.
Magorian stepped forward, his four hooves moving with deliberate slowness. His expression was grave.
"I have seen war," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "I have seen killing. I have seen destruction."
Whoosh—
A ripple of alarm passed through the herd.
Bane and Ronan's expressions grew serious.
"I saw fragments," Magorian continued, his words coming in halting bursts as if he were still trying to make sense of the visions. "Scattered pieces of what is to come. War will engulf Hogwarts. The Mage will be born. Order will be rewritten. A new system will rise from the ashes of the old."
"I cannot see everything clearly," he admitted, his voice dropping. "But I saw him—the boy. His future is terrifying in its scope. And he will lead us—lead the centaurs—back to greatness."
The clearing was utterly silent except for the heavy breathing of the assembled herd.
"We don't need to surrender," a voice called out from the crowd. "We centaurs can simply refuse to participate in the war. We can remain neutral, as we always have."
"No," Magorian said flatly. "That is impossible. This time, no one can escape. Not even us. And I sense... I sense the Forbidden Forest itself is no longer safe."
Bane and Ronan circled Magorian, their thoughts clearly troubled.
In just a few hours, Magorian's entire attitude had changed completely. It was deeply unsettling.
"Bane, Ronan, you must believe me," Magorian said urgently. "I saw the boy's strength. I saw the giants in the northern mountains—they will soon surrender to his command. If I don't act quickly, if we don't become his first followers, we may not have another chance."
Magorian's words were like a bomb exploding in the clearing.
WHAT?!
The herd erupted in shocked voices.
Magorian was saying the northern giants—the same giants who had allied with the Dark Lord—would surrender to that human boy?
But how? The centaurs rarely left the forest, but they had their ways of gathering information. They knew the giants served Voldemort. Everyone knew that.
"I saw it," Magorian insisted, his voice rising. "I saw a massive corpse. Blood flowing like a river. A giant's head, severed, lying in the snow. And I saw the coronation of a new king."
Suddenly, Magorian's eyes rolled back in his head. He screamed—a horrible, wrenching sound—and collapsed heavily to the ground.
Bane and Ronan rushed to his side, their faces pale with concern.
Magorian lay on the ground, gasping for breath. His body trembled violently, as if he'd been struck by lightning.
"Trust me," he panted, looking up at them with wild eyes. "Bane... Ronan... a whole new era is coming. The Ministry of Magic will no longer be the only law enforcement system. I can only see fragments—pieces that don't fit together yet. I don't understand everything I saw. But I saw the boy's face clearly. And I saw the prosperity of the centaurs under his rule."
Bane and Ronan looked at each other, and in each other's eyes, they saw nothing but shock.
Looking at Magorian's current state—exhausted, trembling, clearly drained from the intensity of his visions—their instincts told them they should trust him.
Magorian had never been wrong before. Not about the truly important things.
The meeting of the centaurs continued through the night and into the early hours of dawn. When the first rays of sunlight broke through the canopy, Magorian finally closed his eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.
Bane pulled Ronan aside, away from the others.
"Ronan," he said quietly. "I think we should trust Magorian. When it comes to divination, he and Firenze are—were—the best among our people."
Ronan turned to look at the sleeping Magorian, then gazed toward the morning sun breaking over the horizon.
"This won't be an easy decision," Bane continued, his voice heavy. "It will break a tradition we've held for centuries. Centaurs do not bow to humans. We do not serve them."
"Perhaps," Ronan said slowly. "But perhaps Magorian is right. The Dark Lord has returned—we all know this. The colony of Acromantulas has been waiting for Aragog to die, and he won't last much longer. And you know better than I do what the Dementors are doing."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"If Magorian's prophecy is true—if that boy really does conquer the northern giants—then perhaps he's worth following. And it seems this time, we cannot escape this battle."
Bane was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched.
Finally, he nodded.
"I understand," he said quietly.
The decision was made.
The centaurs would follow Magorian's lead. They would watch the boy called Elian Throne. And when the time came, they would stand with him.
Because sometimes, survival meant adapting. Even if it meant breaking ancient traditions.
Even if it meant kneeling.
Far away, in Gryffindor Tower, Elian lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
He didn't know about the meeting in the forest. Didn't know that Magorian had collapsed from the strain of his visions. Didn't know that the centaurs were debating their future.
But he felt the weight of what had happened pressing down on him.
The centaurs, he thought. They're the first. But they won't be the last.
The pieces were falling into place. His path was becoming clearer.
And in three days, he would take the next step.
The giants were waiting.
(End of Chapter)
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