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  This chapter was edited by Gdiusx. Check his works on HP and ASOIAF, I highly recommend them.

  Time unknown,

  Harry woke up with a start, gasping for a breath that came easily. Too easily. The st thing he remembered was absolute agony as the beast’s venom coursed through his veins. Trying to stand, he found a familiar tongue licking his cheek and a shaggy white head nudging him for attention.

  “I'm awake, Ghost.”

  The direwolf snorted, sending a gust of hot air over Harry's hair. The boy stood up with a groan, expecting sore muscles and stiff limbs. Yet, there was nothing wrong with his body. In the safety of his mind, he could feel no pain or exhaustion.

  He stroked Ghost’s white mane for a few minutes, watching the wolf’s tail dancing in happiness, before heading to the Heart Tree and pcing his palm on it.

  Soon, he was reviewing the events of the past few days.

  His adventure in the Forbidden Forest had started well enough until he got helplessly lost. His Cloak of Invisibility had proved crucial for his survival. The first night, he pitched his small tent in a clearing he thought would be safe, which was a mistake when a Dugbog sneaked into his tent and tried to bite his ankle.

  Thankfully, he had not yet fallen asleep and set it on fire with extreme prejudice… along with his tent. Still, he had managed to recover his supplies, and even his cot, but the muggle tent he bought from Harrold’s was not so lucky. So much for it being high-end and comfortable; it was all pstic and synthetic. Two hundred pounds turned to molten sg just like that.

  Since then, Harry slept on a branch or a hollowed trunk and covered himself with his cloak. Using the odour-negating potion that Chiara made for him and that he forgot to apply earlier, Harry had managed to sleep easily that night.

  The second day had him wandering the woods searching for prey or materials. He had caught a few hares for breakfast when he stumbled on the Thestral herd. Harry didn’t expect to find them so early and did not wish to disturb them, but the matter was taken out of his hand. The same thestral he met on their way to the Hogwarts Express approached him, attracted by the smell of dead rabbit. One petting session ter, and Harry found himself the owner of a clump of thestral tail hair in exchange for his breakfast.

  Ghost huffed next to him, causing Harry to smirk. “You’ve been excited for that rabbit stew, boy?”

  The direwolf nodded. Whatever Harry ate, Ghost could also taste. It was not all that good for him as Harry ate a lot of veggies and things that a canine would not normally like.

  Surprisingly, Ghost liked treacle tart nearly as much as he did.

  Shaking his head and looking back through his memories, he had spent that day exploring and hunting, but mostly hidden under his Invisibility Cloak to avoid needless conflict. His main goal of reaching the centaur camp to hire a guide turned out to be far more difficult than he expected for the Forest did its utmost best to confuse him.

  Eventually, he stumbled on Fluffy. The massive three-headed dog was sleeping under a rge oak, with a gaggle of fairies pying on its heads. He suspected they were the ones to put the dog to sleep in the first pce and was again reminded that the Fae’s distant cousins were not to be underestimated.

  Especially when he recalled his own fairy that cimed the weirwood in the Potter nds as its home. He still hadn’t come up with a name for her - nothing he suggested to her met with approval.

  Getting Fluffy on his side was surprisingly easy. He first shooed the fairies away, much to their disgruntlement, before enticing the cerberus with a deer he hunted earlier. While the dog was busy feasting, Harry had worked his skinchanging to form a pseudo-bond with it and discovered how difficult it was to warg into three heads at the same time.

  Still, with a massive steed under him, Harry managed to breeze through the forest, getting even more lost, until they stumbled upon that centaur dy by the ke. Fluffy had got bored with being his steed, and Harry could already feel the bond fraying. Not wanting to risk it completely shattering, he allowed the massive dog to leave but was surprised when it gave him a farewell gift.

  As he skimmed through the rest of the memory, Harry grimaced when the fight against the manticore came up. He really should have questioned Laura about the beast, for she seemed to know what it was.

  How could he have known it was magic-resistant?

  “I know I told Laura that I was fine, but that venom really packed a punch.” He sighed as he felt himself writhing in pain; the st thing he saw was the centaur’s worried face.

  Moving away from the tree and walking towards the pool, Harry viewed the fight from a third-person perspective. He still could not understand how the pool worked, but he was grateful for it. This way, he could inspect every mistake he made in the fight and learn from them.

  And several mistakes were made. Hexes and charms did nothing to the manticore, while only Transfiguration was effective. Harry watched closely as he drew the tree roots from the ground and nearly restrained the beast.

  His trick of animating all the debris lying around to use as a bludgeoning weapon seemed sound at the time, yet he could see it left him open for retaliation.

  Harry could feel the pain and agony of the venom coursing through him as he watched the memory, followed by the rage that burst out - just as Henry mentioned; it was akin to a berserker's fury that reminded Jon of tales of the First Men losing themselves to battle rage.

  His overconfidence in his blood to nullify the venom nearly became his undoing. He should have known of the lethality of manticore venom - more studying on magical creatures and less on spells and jinxes seemed to be on the horizon, especially if he was going to visit Wildnds again.

  Harry shook his head as the monster recklessly charged him to deliver what should have been a fatal blow in exchange for taking that boulder to its back. Monsters and magical creatures should not be treated as regur beasts; while they were seemingly capable of understanding and even speaking human speech, they were also less intelligent than regur beasts. Harry doubted a wolf or a bear would foolishly attack someone when it would mean such a rge risk to its life.

  “What do you think, Ghost? Do you think magic is somehow scrambling these creatures' brains and making them more reckless?”

  The direwolf huffed before swiping its paw on the smooth surface of the pool, bringing up the image of that troll fight several weeks back. Harry nodded seriously; it was not only beasts that magic seemed to affect; even humanoids lost their wits.

  “But that doesn’t expin the centaurs.”

  The direwolf shook its head in what he understood to be a shrug. Harry shrugged back before jumping in the pool for a refresher. Speaking of the centaurs, it was such a treat to talk and ally with one of them. Laura was such a strange specimen to behold, beautiful in both aspects of her form. How her biology worked was a mystery, yet Jon did not care. She was a powerful and noble warrior.

  He did wonder how he would expin to her how his form returned to Harry Potter instead of Jon Snow.

  .

  .

  .

  The moment he regained consciousness, Harry felt every muscle in his body ache, and his head pulsated from a rhythmic beating behind him. His throat burned, and his lips were dry. Trying to lick them had him flinch as his tongue stinged from a cut. He must have bitten his tongue during the fight.

  Most importantly, his head pounded like Dobby was smashing it with a bludger.

  Someone wiped his face with a wet towel. “It’s okay, Jon. You're safe now.”

  Opening his eyes with some effort, Harry found the brilliant blue orbs of Laura staring down at him, her eyes reflecting the fmes from the nearby campfire. He noticed he was resting his back on her right fnk, which expined the warmth and powerful beats of her heart.

  Did centaurs have two hearts?

  He sat up with a groan, noticing he was missing his upper garments. A cutting pain came from his belly, and Harry tentatively touched where the stinger had pierced him, finding his torso bandaged.

  “Lau–” He was stricken by a fit of coughs as he tried to speak, which ended up making his throat hurt even more.

  “Here, drink this.” The centaur handed him a bowl of soup from a pot pced beside the fire. “It should help with your throat.”

  Harry gratefully accepted and drank a generous gulp. The zesty soup tasted like heaven as it flowed down his throat, soothing the pain.

  “Thanks,” he coughed again to clear his throat. “That helped a lot. Why does it hurt so much?”

  “Manticore venom is incredibly dangerous, perhaps the most lethal venom known in these parts. One of its effects is constricting the throat, making the victim die from strangution.” Laura shook her head in exasperation, her long, straight hair covering half the stars above him. “You should have died twice over, yet here you are awake and recovering half a day ter.”

  Harry ignored the woman's curious look as he drank deeply from the soothing liquid, yet he could still feel exhaustion set in his bones.

  “I am immune to venoms and poisons… or should be at least.” He shrugged as he held his throat and coughed. “Apparently, I am not as immune as I thought.”

  “So it would seem. I applied a poultice to your wound, but it did not seem to be healing as well as it should. Perhaps your immunity extends to medicine?”

  Harry nodded, remembering Poppy warning him about this what felt like a year ago. He looked around until he found one of his mokeskin pouches. Laura followed his gaze, and he raised a stiff hand towards it.

  “Could you?”

  The centaur reached for the pouch with her incredible reach before handing it to him.

  “Thanks.” He withdrew a few specially brewed potions such as healing ones and a blood replenisher courtesy of Chiara.

  “I looked into it, searching for healing potions, but I could not understand any of the bels.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. In hindsight, I should put a more simple bel on them.” Harry could already feel his headache subsiding, but it would take time for him to heal. “Where is that beast anyway?”

  The centaur pointed to her left, and Harry warily climbed to his feet. He leaned over her bare fnk, noticing her saddle nearby, along with a pile of his clothes and pouches. His attention was grabbed by the strung-up corpse of the manticore, its throat was slit, and it was hung upside down over a branch with a long length of rope that was hammered into the ground.

  A rge cy bowl was pced beneath it as it collected the beast's blood, and it was then that Harry noticed the dripping sound of blood falling. It was missing its scorpion tail, only a bloody stump was in its pce. He found it pced on some leaves, and Harry figured it would do for an anchor during the ritual.

  “I assume you will want to eat its heart for your ritual. Its body is a treasure trove of ingredients as well.” Laura shrugged as he dropped back to the ground, feeling lethargic again. “Rest now, you are still recovering.”

  Her hand patted his head gently, and Harry found himself nodding along before shaking his head. “Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one.”

  “You’re welcome. We will talk more tomorrow, for we have much to discuss. Sleep now.”

  Harry closed his eyes as he rested on her warm fnk. He could feel a bnket covering him, and within moments, he was sleeping to the cadence of the centaur's heartbeat.

  .

  .

  .

  “Mhm, this is superb.”

  “It certainly is.” Harry nodded along as he tore a chunk from the roasted meat with his teeth and chewed thoughtfully. “You would think a lion’s flesh would be gamey, but it tastes scrumptious.”

  Laura swallowed her meat before tearing another chunk of the roasted steak, “Truly, this is a feast for the ages! We do not get plenty of chances to hunt any magical beasts. Those spiders don’t count. They are hardly worthy of counting as a meal.”

  “Do you think magical creatures taste better all-around than mundane animals?”

  “Absolutely!” The centaur nodded seriously as she pointed a piece of steak at him, “We have a herd of sheep that we care for, and while mutton tastes wonderful, they are nothing compared to the odd magical creature we manage to hunt.”

  They had woken up at dawn, and Harry felt much better than the previous night, albeit with an incredible hunger. Laura gdly helped him as they butchered the manticore and built a makeshift smoking hut where parts of the flesh were being smoked. Still, his ravenous hunger had him feasting on the monster’s heart, and Harry could feel the ritual accepting the offering.

  It was unexpinable, but Harry simply knew that it just worked. He had already pnned with Henry on the intricacy of the ritual, and so far, he had managed to hunt four of the five primary magical creatures for it. He needed one more beast, but he did not wish to waste it on some run-of-the-mill creature.

  Harry’s thoughts wandered to the creatures he had already hunted.

  First was the basilisk, which was by far the most powerful of them all, and he was confident he would gain the most power from feasting on its flesh. Most likely, the reason the ritual was still active had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk’s nature. Even by magical standards, it was an unnatural abomination that required complicated wizard interference for it to be created.

  Second was the massive troll that invaded his nds. He had feasted on its heart the moment he had learned of the ritual from Henry. Harry was hesitant about eating troll flesh as they were still humanoids, and the fact they were known as man-eaters also had him shying away from it, but needs must. Chiara had warned that it was simply not done, for troll meat was filthy and contaminated. It certainly tasted queer, and he recalled Tonks’ warning about that as well.

  Thankfully, his iron guts managed to keep that meal down - Dobby’s excellent cooking skills also helped in making it more appetizing. Still, it was an experience he would rather not repeat, as the memory of the slimy texture of the meat was unpleasant. The rest of the troll’s body was disposed of or used for potion ingredients except for the liver, which would be used as an anchor for the ritual.

  Third was one of the Acromantu he killed yesterday. Harry had already acquired a taste for spider meat at the restaurant he visited with Narcissa. Its heart may have tasted peculiarly, yet the legs were savoury. It was like eating crab meat with a hint of chicken. It also helped that he hated the damn creatures, and while, in hindsight, it was a bit of a waste to use his slot for the ritual on a simple spider, the spite he had for the creatures made it worth it.

  Fourth was what nearly killed him st night, and he had to admit that the manticore was by far the tastiest of his conquests. He had consumed its heart in its entirety earlier, and it tasted sublime. It was unfortunate that it was so small compared to the basilisk, which he had finished consuming the entirety of its components the day before his venture here, yet for now, Harry was in bliss.

  “What this feast needs is a good drink.” Laura wiped her full lips with a leaf as she finished her meal, and Harry found his eyes wandering appreciatively at the woman’s strong yet womanly features.

  Her stomach was toned, and her arms were corded, yet none would deny her beauty. Her ample chest, which was easily bigger than his head, was proof enough, as were her delicate facial features. Brilliant blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in the night and luscious golden hair that trailed down to her horse body.

  If only it were not all attached to a horse… Harry shook his head inwardly. While he appreciated the beauty of a good horse, it seemed that he was not deviant enough to be attracted to a centaur.

  “I have some mead if you'd like.”

  “Truly? Let’s have some, then.”

  He grinned as he finished the st bite before bringing out a fgon of the mead he had traded from Hagrid st month. After heating it, they enjoyed the heavenly drink in silence as they listened to the forest come alive around them.

  “So, Jon. Are you ready to expin your new features?”

  “I am a shapeshifter of sorts.” Harry shrugged as he willed his normal body to shift into an older-looking mix of Jon Snow and Eddard Stark. Sadly, he was still incapable of increasing his muscle mass or changing his bone structure, so he still looked like a kid for the most part. “My powers are limited compared to others I know, but as you can tell, I’m a bit too young to be out and about in the Forbidden Forest.”

  “I see,” Laura had an apprehensive look as she gazed at him intently. “Forgive me for doubting you, but your name is not truly Jon Snow, is it?”

  “What makes you say so?” He raised an eyebrow as he sipped from his bowl.

  “The story of my brother saving you. Firenze told me he helped a boy with a different name to the one you gave me, and it was not Jon Snow.”

  He grimaced inwardly at her accusing tone. The centaur had been kind and reliable, and he had no wish for any misunderstandings between them, especially as she was the best, and only, guide he had so far. Still, he would rather not have to expin his very complicated situation.

  “I will ask you to forgive the deception. I was alone in the forest and was warned of the existence of the Fae. I could not afford to give my name so easily in case they learned it and somehow cursed me.”

  Laura gazed at him with a bnk look and Harry simply gazed back. After a minute, she sighed before drinking the rest of her mead in one gulp. “That was smart of you, yet I do not appreciate being lied to. Nonetheless, you did help me yesterday and have treated me to good food and drink. I shall let it pass, provided you give me your name.”

  “That is kind of you.” He stood and gave a courteous bow, “My name is Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. It is a pleasure to meet you, Laura, daughter of Tina.”

  The centaur nodded as she also stood and smiled. “Much better, although I think I shall stick with Jon. Now, how about we finish our meal and pack our camp? You still have more creatures to hunt and parts to procure, right?”

  Harry smiled as he waved his wand, and within a minute, the smoked meat was wrapped in leaves, and all his belongings were packed in his mokeskin pouch. Dressing in his basilisk hide armour, he made sure his dagger was secure along with his invisibility cloak before grinning at the centaur cd in her armour.

  “Ready when you are.”

  .

  .

  .

  It’s been two days since, and Harry was starting to think the Forbidden Forest was messing with them.

  “This makes no bloody sense! Why the heck is there a frozen mountain range,” He pointed in aggravation ahead of him, “When we are literally about to leave a desert?!”

  As they trudged towards the Rocky Mountains, he was drenched in sweat and panting for breath. Neither Harry nor Jon had ever been subjected to such bzing heat. Laura was not accustomed to the heat either, but she was at least prepared for it.

  He was tempted to sp her fnk when she ughed at his outburst. “This is a Wildnd, Jon. It’s not supposed to make sense. How’s your attempt at mapping it?”

  Harry stared at the piece of parchment in his hands in distaste, he had been warned many times that mapping magical pces was an exercise in frustration, yet he wanted to see for himself. “Limited. While I proved that the wildnd can be navigated to an extent, some parts refuse to be mapped. Almost like the nd knows it's being charted and does its best to mess with me when I put pen to paper. Somehow, I already forgot about those spots, so I can’t chart them ter.”

  “Indeed, the Wildnd can sense when it's being scried and does not appreciate it.”

  “You speak of it like it’s alive.”

  “Is it not?” Laura looked at him strangely, “Can you not sense the surrounding life? The magic of the pce?”

  He could certainly sense the grains of sand stuck all over his body. It was the first time he had ever been in a desert, and Harry wondered how people could live in such an inhospitable pce. Just walking through it for a few hours had him short-tempered and irritated. Was that why the Dornish were hot-blooded and quick to provoke?

  “How can you navigate it so easily, though? Are all centaurs good at navigating the Wildnd?”

  “No, Firenze and I are just special.” They finally crossed the final threshold from the Desert Dunes, and Harry immediately felt the soothing cool winds of the mountains tickle his skin. “Our mother does not remember her childhood nor her parents. All her memories are of her surviving in the forest until she stumbled on the tribe. The shaman decred she was a child of the forest - born from the Forbidden Forest.”

  Harry raised an eyebrow at the term. It was most likely a metaphor rather than the mythical ones from Westeros. He shrugged and continued their march up the snowy mountains towards a stone bridge crossing over a ravine with a rge rock beside it - how did a man-made structure appear here?

  “What about your father?”

  Laura’s clopping hoof steps suddenly halted, and he turned around to find her looking at the evening stars wistfully. “My mother would not speak of my sire, yet my brother suspects it was a creature of the forest.”

  “Creature? Not a centaur?”

  “Nay. Not to sound arrogant, but my brother and I are special, even by centaur standards. Firenze is confident that our sire was–”

  Laura’s eyes widened, and Harry quickly turned to what she was looking at. The rock he was walking towards shook mightily, and suddenly, he was not staring at a rock.

  But a massive humanoid, nearly twenty feet tall, with white fur all over its body. The giant had a bone club nearly Hagrid’s height and stood defiantly in front of the bridge as it gred at them.

  Instantly, his wand and his dagger were in both hands, and Harry stepped back to join Laura. Strangely, she did not string her bow nor brandish her spear.

  “Calm down, Jon. This is a yeti. Unlike trolls, they are much more reasonable. I believe I can negotiate with him.”

  He looked in worry as Laura fiddled with a bag on her saddle as she approached the giant, furry man - Harry following her yet keeping his weapons at the ready. The yeti had a permanent scowl as it glowered at the tall centaur that barely reached its midriff yet seemingly ignored him. It thumped its club once on the ground, causing Laura to stop about a dozen feet away from it.

  “Greetings. I assume you are the bridge protector. We seek passage across.”

  The yeti continued to gre at Laura, and Harry started feeling irritated. Why were they entertaining this massive brute when they could defeat it? Nevertheless, he decided to trust his companion.

  “Toll.”

  The rumbling voice was like an avanche, especially to Harry’s sensitive ears. Laura nodded and withdrew a sb of smoked manticore meat from the bag before showing it to the yeti. The furry beast looked at it in undisguised interest, yet it shook its head.

  “Not enough.”

  Laura frowned before depositing the gift back in her bag and withdrawing her spear and shield.

  “I understand that you have a duty to protect this bridge. I am certain some of our reptilian neighbours would happily smash it to pieces on a whim.” If possible, the snowy giant’s scowl deepened as it nodded. “However, you must also understand that we could simply force our way through if necessary.”

  The yeti growled menacingly, showing rows of sharp teeth. Harry stepped forward, his wand tip igniting with an Incendio on his lips, yet he held a familiar fsk in his other hand.

  “How about we sweeten the deal? Mead to go with the meat?”

  The yeti gazed warily at the ignited wand before it blinked at him, inhaled deeply from its nose, and rubbed its shaggy chin. Harry was not sure why they couldn’t just set the beast on fire before skewering it, maybe even cim its heart for his ritual, but Laura found it necessary to negotiate instead.

  It was also intelligent - at least far more than trolls, acromantus or the manticore.

  Still, it better decide quickly, for while he enjoyed the cold, he wanted to be done with this misadventure of his.

  “Fine,” The yeti stepped aside, tore a chunk off its fur, rge enough for Harry to use as a bnket, and pced it on the ground. “Fair trade.”

  Harry gnced at the centaur; Laura had already sheathed back her weapons and had the leaf-wrapped sb of smoked meat in her hands; it was possibly half of the manticore meat they had left.

  Together, they warily pced the meat and mead on the ground while the yeti pushed the clump of fur to him. Harry accepted it, finding it incredibly soft - nearly as soft as Ghost’s fur! They nodded politely to the giant as it started feasting and continued on their way as he shoved the fur into one of his mokeskin pouches.

  “Well, this went better than I expected.” Harry gnced at his centaur companion. “Any reason why we didn’t just kill it?”

  “It meant no harm, and it was the protector and builder of that bridge,” Laura replied as she checked the skies, and Harry followed her gaze. There were a few distant flying creatures but nothing that seemed hostile to them. “We can’t just kill anything that blocks our path, Jon. Besides, that yeti has a family and a cn to return to. If we killed it, they would no doubt take offence.”

  “You didn’t seem to care about killing those spiders.”

  “That’s because they are invasive and rabid.” The centaur’s words were biting as they trekked along the path, “Just because they can speak does not mean they are intelligent. Anyway, are you good with parts for your ritual?”

  “Yeah, I can use this clump of fur as a secondary ingredient. Just need three more and another worthy beast to hunt, and I shall be good to go.” Harry’s gaze went idly to the centaur’s shiny blonde hair, but he shook his head inwardly; that would be highly improper. “How about you? Have you discovered any hints on where your destined mate would be?”

  He tried to hide the incredulity of his words from his voice, but he might have failed, judging by the woman’s giggle. Harry wanted to respect the centaur’s quest, but to go on a hunt for a husband?

  That was almost like a wildling.

  “I gazed at the stars st night, and they told me I was close. Soon, we shall both face a trial, and my path shall be clear.” Laura wrapped herself in a cloak made from bear fur as they steadily climbed the mountain, and the temperature dropped further. “Evening approaches. We should find a cave to spend the night.”

  A*L*S*M

  Friday, 16th of July, 1993.

  “Here you go, honey.” Hermione jerked awake as the car stopped and yawned mightily. “What time do you want us to pick you up?”

  Looking around, she found they were stopped on Charing Cross Road before the Leaky Cauldron. It was barely eight in the morning, and Hermione had just returned from France a few hours ago.

  Her father looked at her from the rearview mirror, his brown eyes ughing as she wiped off the sleep from her eyes. “Look who didn’t listen to her parents and spent all night reading?”

  She blushed at her father’s teasing voice, “Sorry, Dad. I just–”

  “Don’t worry about it, honey. I was just as surprised as you were when Robert led us to that little boutique hidden behind the gallery.” Her father, Malcolm Granger, shook his head as Hermione remembered when Grandpa got fed up with her constant questions, leading her to that magical shop for a distraction. “I don’t think he truly believed it was magical. How’s your French going?”

  “?a se passe bien, merci.”

  She giggled when her father’s face scrunched in annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh at your poor Dad for not speaking frog nguage.”

  “Hey, Mom would not be pleased you described her mother tongue with the F-word.”

  “Good thing she isn’t here, eh?”

  Hermione smiled as her father ughed. Her mother, Jean, was in the clinic while Dad dropped her off at the leaky. Jean hailed from France; her father, Robert, was Hermione’s best clue to discover her magical origins. She frowned as she remembered how the trail went cold with him, and now she would probably never learn of her origins, unless she gets some serious help.

  Maybe that thing she read in that science magazine could help.

  “You can come pick me up when you finish work, Dad. I will be in the Leaky by six o’clock or so.”

  Malcolm nodded as she grabbed her bag and exited the car, giving her Dad a kiss on the cheek and walking to the tavern. The moment she entered the threshold, she looked back at her father, finding him looking at the store next door in confusion before shaking his head and driving away.

  Opening the door and entering the waiting area, the sounds of cars driving and city life was silenced. Bracing herself to re-enter the magical world for the first time in a month, Hermione was about to push open the door to the tavern when it opened from the other side. She found herself face to chest with a powerfully built red-haired man.

  “Oh, excuse me.”

  The man held open the door for her, and Hermione stared for a moment. He had the most peculiar rust-coloured eyes, and it was rare to find a fit wizard with visible muscles. The man’s choice of muggle attire also piqued her interest, showing off his corded arms and rge hands.

  Hermione realised she had been staring and felt heat creep on her face as she shook her head and mumbled a thank you before hurrying inside.

  The common room was not busy; she had just missed the Friday morning rush as people went to work. Hermione’s attention was grabbed by a young girl sitting in a corner surrounded by books and parchment. She did not recognise her, and Hermione had made sure to know all the students in her year and the ones above and below her, so she must be a first year.

  “Morning, darling. Haven’t seen you in a while.” She turned to Tom’s voice behind the bar, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, and Hermione quickly sat on a stool, “Will it be breakfast first, or will you head into the alley?”

  “Breakfast, please, Tom.”

  The old man nodded as he left the newspaper on the counter while he prepared her a meal. The bushy-haired girl browsed it in interest, for she had been out of the loop for weeks. The page Tom was reading had a rge picture of a blonde woman beaming at the camera with the headline ‘Bertha Jorkins wins the Grand Prize Galleon Draw’. The witch was now the owner of seven hundred galleons and had decred she would make a tour of Greece and the Balkans despite many warnings by the prophet about the dangers of that region.

  Shrugging indifferently, Hermione flipped the paper to the front page and read the outlines and other news. Her eyebrows continuously rose as she read more insane things that happened in her absence that even included her best friend.

  What the fudge?

  She leaves Engnd for a few weeks, and it goes to hell?!

  Many events were not detailed but cited each other, with the prophet expecting the readers to know about them. What she gleaned was Harry making a scene in the ministry, Sirius Bck escaping Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy dying somehow, and most importantly, Harry dating Susan Bones!

  The lump forming at the back of her throat felt aggravating, but Hermione tried to ignore it.

  “Here you go, darling.” She looked up to find a pte of sandwiches and a gss of pumpkin juice pced on the counter infront of her, and she eagerly grabbed one to eat - she hadn’t had a solid meal since st night. “I’ve a teapot on the stove.”

  “Thank you, Tom. Do you know where Harry is? I’ve been out of the country for the past month, and he only mentioned he found a pce to live that belonged to his family.”

  “He stayed here for a few nights before moving out. Stole my best waitress with him as well.” Tom shook his head fondly while Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “Anyway, if you are keen to learn more, I suggest speaking to young Mafalda over there. Harry helped her and her father, the bloke you nearly stumbled into when you arrived, from a tight spot. She was raised in the muggle world, and I think she could do with a friend from a familiar background.”

  Hermione followed Tom’s gaze to the girl she had noticed earlier; Mafalda was entirely too focused on her studies, which Hermione certainly approved of.

  “I will do just that. Thank you, Tom.”

  Grabbing her bag, Hermione walked to the girl’s table, finally grabbing her attention as the girl looked at her inquisitively.

  “Hi. Mind if I join you?”

  The adventure in the Forest continues.

  I ughed so damn hard at some of the comments. No, guys, I won't pair Harry with a centaur. This isn't some smut story where all the females are crazily attracted to the MC.

  We got an update on Hermione as she makes a new friend, and a teaser for a future event.