"I hate those centaurs too. They spend all day spouting mystical nonsense, appearing and disappearing without a trace. They even think the Forbidden Forest belongs to them. How ridiculous. Did they ask my opinion?"
Aragog continued to grumble,
"But unlike the unicorns, the centaurs rarely stop us from hunting-they say something about not defying the will of heaven... I think they're just cowards, but that's hardly a bad thing for us."
Hagrid gave Aragog a helpless look.
"Don't say that, Aragog. You need to respect the centaurs' traditions. They've been following the stars since their grandfathers' grandfathers' grandfathers were alive. But you're right about one thing: the centaurs do come and go without a trace-they're much harder to find than unicorns."
"I don't think finding them today will be difficult."
Brian looked up at the night sky, where the moon was dim and the stars glittered.
"We're in luck. I don't think the centaurs would pass up a day with such perfect conditions for stargazing."
Racking his brain for everything he knew about centaurs, he recalled that these creatures, born half human and half beast, seemed to possess a kind of magic that allowed them to avoid humans-to this day, very few wizards had ever seen a centaur settlement for themselves.
Perhaps that had something to do with the unicorns that were nowhere to be found.
"Brian, haven't you got that backward? If the centaurs are all busy watching the stars, they're even less likely to come out hunting."
Hagrid sounded puzzled.
"Are you drunk? We didn't have that much today..."
"Please, you'd get drunk long before I did. Fragrant Mallow and sage." Brian crouched down and rubbed the rather sleepy big black dog. "Fang, can you tell those two plants apart by their scent?"
Hagrid slapped his forehead and said excitedly, "Oh, you really are a genius! Firenze told me about Fragrant Mallow—they're bound to be burning a great big bunch of that herb today!"
Before officially taking his leave of Aragog, curiosity prompted Brian to ask the spider king, who carried himself with such authority, a somewhat impertinent question.
"Aragog, are there any creatures that frighten you?"
After their brief time together, he had the impression that Aragog feared nothing-first he had criticized the unicorns, then delivered a scathing verdict on the centaurs. Did Acromantulas have no natural predators in this forest?
"Oh... of course there are... but I don't want to mention that dreadful creature... it was once so close to me..."
To Brian's surprise, Aragog showed unmistakable fear for the first time.
"I beg you, don't make me remember unpleasant things. As you can see, I'm blind. Living on memories is difficult enough already. Please leave... leave."
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have asked. Forgive me, Aragog," Brian said apologetically.
He had never expected Aragog to react so strongly, but he had to admit that the reaction was intriguing-
A creature that could terrify an Acromantula like this... some kind of dragon? Or perhaps an enormous bird... a Thunderbird?
There was no such thing as too much knowledge. Brian decided to make time to look up some relevant books in the library once he returned to Hogwarts-the magical knowledge the book had crammed into his head was still rather basic.
Hagrid, meanwhile, sounded thoroughly baffled.
"Hey, Aragog, you came to me when you were still an egg-where have you ever been besides Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest? What could frighten you so much? Oh, I remember!"
He slapped his forehead after saying this.
"You're afraid of that monster at Hogwarts, aren't you? What is it, exactly? I've asked you so many times, but you've never been willing to tell me. Will you tell me today?"
"No! I don't want to talk about it... Hagrid, don't make me... please?" At the mention of the monster at Hogwarts, Aragog's enormous body retreated a good distance into the cave. "Go and find the centaurs. Stay safe..."
It was a perfect day for stargazing, and the entire Centaur Tribe was steeped in the wonderful fragrance of sage and Fragrant Mallow—the flames and smoke produced by burning these two plants, both of which held an important place in mysticism, could greatly improve the accuracy of divination.
Firenze glanced at his fellow centaurs, who were gazing reverently at the heavens, and quietly wandered into a more distant stretch of woods.
He had finished his divination. The stars were unusually active today: he had heard Uranus reciting poetry at the top of its voice, with Pluto whispering nearby. This was not the outcome he had wanted to see, but there was nothing he could do-the will of heaven could not be defied.
Firenze often heard his tribesmen praising his talent for divination-
"The stars are more willing to enter your eyes. They love you. Do not let them down."
Yet he felt that his talent for divination was among the very worst-well, he certainly understood the language of the stars better than his tribesmen did-
But no matter how hard he tried, he could never face every divination result with the same serene, untroubled mind as Ronan or Bane.
How did they keep thoughts such as Perhaps I could do something from ever entering their heads?
Being able to glimpse the future isn't always a good thing, Firenze thought silently.
Suddenly, he heard a faint rustling in some distant bushes. This was unusual: magic around the Centaur Tribe confused the senses, clouding the instincts of any approaching creature other than a centaur and causing it to wander away without realizing it.
Similar incidents in the past had involved creatures on the brink of death, all five senses gone, fleeing here. Sometimes they were greeted with arrows, sometimes with healing, depending on what the stars foretold.
Firenze continued to listen closely. Footsteps-from their rhythm, there were both four-legged and two-legged creatures. Judging by their weight and pace, there were at least three visitors, and the footsteps of one particularly large fellow were unmistakable...
"Who's there?" Firenze tensed and drew the bow and arrows strapped to his back. "I can hear you. Come out!"
He heard a familiar voice suddenly rise from behind the trees.
"Oh! I know that voice. Firenze? Is that you? It's me, Hagrid! And Fang! And a new friend!"
After they left the Acromantulas' territory, Fang's nose quickly proved its worth. Following his lead, Brian and Hagrid walked for about twenty minutes before reaching a rather unfamiliar stretch of woods.
Hagrid patted a moss-covered tree with his broad palm and said thoughtfully,
"Strange, I don't remember this place... After all these years, I don't think I've ever been here... Oh, look over there, Brian. Some wild Fragrant Mallow!"
Brian spotted the yellow-green herbs at once. He took a few steps closer and noticed something.
"They aren't wild, Hagrid. They're spaced very evenly. Perhaps the centaurs planted them. We've found the right place."
"Fang, I knew you could do it!" Hagrid proudly rubbed Fang's head. "Keep it up, and I'll make you a ferret feast when we get back!"
Fang leaped up happily, but his happiness soon vanished. About another minute later, he began circling in confusion, sniffing to the left and investigating to the right. After some wandering, he led the two of them in one direction for a while-
And Brian found himself looking at those same familiar clumps of Fragrant Mallow again.
"What's got into you?" Hagrid gathered the dazed Fang into his arms. "Are you all right?"
Fang jumped from Hagrid's arms to the ground and bounced twice to show that he was fine.
"There are traces of magic. Centaur magic. They don't want anyone coming near." Brian examined their surroundings and discovered faint, obscure runes carved into several tree trunks. "I'm afraid Fang's nose won't help us now."
"Then... should we go back the way we came?" Hagrid looked around at the unfamiliar trees and said in confusion, "Which way did we come?"
"No, Hagrid." A light breeze brushed past. Brian sniffed twice and looked toward its source, narrowing his eyes as he made out a faint swirl of smoke. "My nose isn't bad either."
When Brian saw the bare-chested, silver-maned centaur standing alert in the moonlight with his bow fully drawn, he felt as though he had returned to that night when he first glimpsed Hogwarts Castle from the Flying Car.
He watched the centaur named Firenze slowly lower his bow and walk toward him, his platinum hair drifting in the air, lighting up the pitch-black Forbidden Forest little by little. Like something out of a fairy tale, he said,
"Uranus is singing poetry aloud."
Before you continue