— CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN —
'I'll bet you wish you hadn't given up Divination now, don't you, Hermione?' asked Parvati, smirking.
It was breakfast time, two days after the sacking of Professor Trelawney, and Parvati was curling her eyelashes around her wand and examining the effect in the back of her spoon. They were to have their first lesson with Firenze that morning.
'Not really,' said Hermione indifferently, who was reading the
It was the most unusual lesson Harry had ever attended. They did indeed burn sage and mallowsweet there on the classroom floor, and Firenze told them to look for certain shapes and symbols in the pungent fumes, but he seemed perfectly unconcerned that not one of them could see any of the signs he described, telling them that humans were hardly ever good at this, that it took centaurs years and years to become competent, and finished by telling them that it was foolish to put too much faith in such things, anyway, because even centaurs sometimes read them wrongly. He was nothing like any human teacher Harry had ever had. His priority did not seem to be to teach them what he knew, but rather to impress upon them that nothing, not even centaurs' knowledge, was foolproof.
'He's not very definite on anything, is he?' said Ron in a low voice, as they put out their mallowsweet fire. 'I mean, I could do with a few more details about this war we're about to have, couldn't you?'
The bell rang right outside the classroom door and everyone jumped; Harry had completely forgotten they were still inside the castle, and quite convinced that he was really in the Forest. The class filed out, looking slightly perplexed.
Harry and Ron were on the point of following them when Firenze called, 'Harry Potter, a word, please.'
Harry turned. The centaur advanced a little towards him. Ron hesitated.
'You may stay,' Firenze told him. 'But close the door, please.'
Ron hastened to obey.
'Harry Potter, you are a friend of Hagrid's, are you not?' said the centaur.
'Yes,' said Harry.
'Then give him a warning from me. His attempt is not working. He would do better to abandon it.'
'His attempt is not working?' Harry repeated blankly.
'And he would do better to abandon it,' said Firenze, nodding. 'I would warn Hagrid myself, but I am banished — it would be unwise for me to go too near the Forest now — Hagrid has troubles enough, without a centaurs' battle.'
'But — what's Hagrid attempting to do?' said Harry nervously.
Firenze surveyed Harry impassively.
'Hagrid has recently rendered me a great service,' said Firenze, 'and he has long since earned my respect for the care he shows all living creatures. I shall not betray his secret. But he must be brought to his senses. The attempt is not working. Tell him, Harry Potter. Good-day to you.'