𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥? 〚𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚢 〛

Chapitre 4

The train had stopped a while ago, but I thought it best not to move. My back was hurting. The consequence of being stuck between two trunks and laying motionless on the dusty floor.

"That's enough, I'm getting up," I growled under my breath.

As silently as possible, I got on my knees and crawled towards the back door. Pressing my ear against the door, I listened carefully. A few conversations could be heard, but they were slowly getting further away. On the other hand, I could hear heavy footsteps coming closer. 

I slipped out of the wagon and jumped onto the platform, sprinting for the forest, where the trees could cover me. 

As the sun dipped on its daily route, disappearing in the horizon, I walked deeper and deeper into the words, wondering exactly how I was going to light a fire for the night. 

Leaves rustles behind me.

 I reconsidered my plan. Staying the night did not seem like a good idea.

"What are you doing here, little witch?" said a deep voice.

I turned around and pasted a polite smile on my face. My cheek twitched when I noticed who had spoken. At least seven feet tall, it's torso was human and the rest of his body was a horse's.

"Good evening, Mr. Centaur. I beg your pardon but I am no witch, I am human."

It seemed like the proper thing to say. The centaur did not sound appreciative of wizards. 

He watched me closely. "Hm. You seem to know of our kind, little one. But humans cannot see us."

I nodded apologetically. "Then it must seem strange that I can."

He stayed silent.

"Ronan, come here," he finally ordered.

Another centaur with a darker robe stepped out of the shadows.

"Bane mustn't see her, she doesn't belong here. Dumbledore will know what to do."

Ronan nodded gravely.

"You've read this in the stars, haven't you?" I whisper, the gears inside my head spinning furiously.

The first centaur, with the black hair and chestnut fur, looked down at me in surprise. "Perhaps. Come now, get on my back."

I stepped back, alarmed. "Are you mad? I would never do such a thing!"

The centaur raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"You are not a mule," I huffed, exasperated. "I have no right to climb onto your back and let you carry me around."

"It's her," said the centaur, turning to his companion. "I'll accompany her to the hut."

Without another word, Ronan galloped away. Strange, I know.

"Come now, little human."

When you're out in a magical world, seeing creatures you aren't supposed to see and wondering exactly where to go, when a tough looking centaur offers to be your guide, you follow him. 

The only fact I was able to add to my list was that centaurs are very good at being silent. He didn't talk, I didn't ask any questions. I walked at a certain distance behind him, wondering if he would kick me just like a horse would, only to realise that it might seem offensive to him. 

I tried memorising the path we took, but it was of no use. Every tree was tall, every leaf looked like the other and there were no paths. Until we arrived at the edge of the forest.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, little human."

It turns out that wizards had very good architects. 

Hogwarts was in fact a palace more majestic than the ones built during the renaissance. The castles' many windows gleamed in the moonlight. We were perched atop a mountain and overseeing a black lake at the bottom of it. It looked like the castle I dreamed of in my youth. It was beautiful.

I heard the centaur sigh as he shot a glare towards the small hut on the side of the lake in front of the school. I noticed the walls surrounding the forest and school. How had we managed to get through them? I did not get an answer, instead catching up with the centaur as he trotted towards the hut. His hooves clicked against the small pebbles, attracting the attention of a large man sitting on the doorsteps.

"'Owdy Magorian, what brings yeh 'ere?"

"Her," calmly responded the centaur, pointing towards me.

The man stood and I had to stop myself from stepping back. He was huge! I do not mean to be disrespectful, but the man was around nine feet tall and his shoulders were three times mine. He had long, unruly hair with an equally bushy black beard.

"What're yeh doin' 'ere, the feast just started!"

"She's a muggle," interrupted the centaur.

Hagrid froze. "Not good, not good at all."

"Speak to Dumbledore about her," suggested Magorian.

Hagrid nodded quickly.

"Farewell, little human."

"Goodbye, Mr. Magorian."

The centaur reared back on his hinge legs before galloping back into the woods.

"What's yer name?" mumbled the giant in a concerned voice.

"Rose Collins, sir."

"I 'ave to speak to professor Dumbledore about yeh."

I nodded, feeling quite calm. "Would it be possible for you to drop me off at the library?"