Luna stood with hands on hips gazing into the deep forest as the hoofbeats faded to the slow murmurs of the night. The deepening dusk kicked up a breeze which rustled the grasses and the fabric of her dress, wicking away the lingering dampness at the meeting of her thighs. Refreshing. Still, the centaur’s words troubled her.

  Hermione drew up closer, both of them staring into the forest.

  “He’s a tortured soul,” Luna said softly. “How can we help him?”

  Hermione shook her head. “Help a centaur? Luna, you can’t save everyone in the world.”

  “If we can’t help someone like him, we are wasting our time saving Hogwarts. He said he was drawn to us. What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “So secretive. Yet, he gave you his name. Gelien?”

  “Gelien Wolfsbane,” Luna repeated dreamily, closing her eyes, imagining the imposing, tall centaur in broad daylight. “Don’t you want to see him again?”

  Hermione was still reeling from Luna’s earlier distressing display.

  “I- I don’t know, Luna. I mean, you know how they are-”

  “Yes, but Hermione, he sought us out. He needs us.” She turned abruptly and started walking quickly.

  “Where are you going?” Hermione asked, catching up.

  “He’ll help us,” Luna said, almost to herself. “He knows them well.”

  When Hermione saw where she was going, she chided, “he’s probably sleeping,” annoyed at Luna’s indefatigable will, trying to keep up with her beneath the reeling stars. 7 AM would come too soon. “Luna, you can’t do this, you can’t just do anything you want. Don’t you have your duties?”

  “What greater duty than to help him? My intentions are pure. I want to help ,” Luna said, suddenly stopping, reaching out to Hermione, taking her hand. “I know how you feel,” she said softly. “You need to be in touch with yourself, Hermione. Otherwise, you risk being divided. Cut up into pieces. You die a slow death, like Volde-”

  “Don’t say his name, please!” She pulled her hand away.

  Sure enough, Hagrid was snoozing but gladly welcomed them into the cozy hut. “Blimey it’s late! What brings you all out here?” He set out two hot mugs of tea and biscuits.

  Hermione devoured them.

  “Somebody’s hungry!”

  “Sorry, Hagrid, I haven’t eaten all day,” she replied while chewing.

  He frowned. “Let me put out some proper nutrition.” He pulled out a thick cheese, a hearty loaf, and dried fruit.

  “Oh thank you!” Hermione gushed, cutting off a thick slide of bread and cheese.

  “Aren’t they feedin’ ya?”

  Hermione shook her head. “I have to clock out after and before everyone else,” Hermione said between bites. “I have no time to eat.”

  Hagrid shook his head. “Baah! Riparious wants to make us great again, but taking us back 550 years t’aint the way!”

  Fang roused from a deep slumber and growled as if in agreement.

  “So how can I help ye?”

  Luna leaned in conspiratorially. “This must be very discreet, Hagrid. No one can know who’s involved. Can you do that?”

  Hagrid’s eyes bulged. “What’s this about? Is this a Ministry request?”

  Luna and Hermione exchanged glances. “Yes,” Luna replied.

  Hermione made a face but Hagrid didn’t notice.

  “From the Minister himself?” Hagrid asked with annoyance. “Sorry, I can’t willingly lift a finger for that backwards bloke.”

  “Oh no, not the Minister,” Luna added quickly. “It’s…my research.”

  “Research?” Hermione asked with unmasked incredulity.

  Luna shot her a warning glance.

  “Yes Hermione. Research,” Luna said in a measured tone. “We want to study centaurs. One in particular.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Hagrid frowned. “They don’t take kindly to human intrusions, you ought to know.”

  “Oh of course,” Luna said, her eyes twinkling.

  “What kind of research?”

  “I’m not in a position to say,” Luna said coyly.

  “Top secret, eh?”

  Luna rubbed her chin. “Not exactly. Let’s just say we don’t want our methods and goals getting into the Daily Prophet quite yet. Riparious is serious about shoring up Hogwarts defenses, and we don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”

  Hermione was at a loss for what Luna was devising, but she was too hungry to interject.

  Hagrid nodded, sat back in his chair. “How can I help ye?”

  “Can you arrange for us to meet Gelien Wolfsbane?”

  Hagrid’s nostrils flared. “Merlin’s beard! How do you even know that name? If I’ve seen him once in years it was by pure chance. He doesn’t take kindly to me. Might have to do with Fang chasing him.”

  Luna frowned “But you could arrange a meeting?”

  Hagrid threw up his hands. “I’ll talk to Filgar, but as far as I know, they’re not on speaking terms. Gelien keeps to himself.”

  Luna’s face fell.

  “But surely you can facilitate a meeting?” Hermione chimed in. “It’s of utmost importance.”

  Hagrid nodded. “Anything for you two lasses. But don’t get yer hopes up.”

  After they said their goodbyes, they walked slowly back, midnight crickets wind whispering through the branches heavy with buds.

  “Research project? Why did you lie to Hagrid?” Hermione said once they were out of earshot of the cabin.

  “Oh Hermione, but it was the truth! We are trying to discover what ails poor Gelien, and we need to gather as much information as possible. How is that not research?”

  “But for Hogwarts’ defenses? You have to admit you just made that up.”

  Luna laughed lightly. “Guilty as charged! But Riparious is always open to my ideas, and I think he’d be game.”

  Hermione harumphed. “I have a real problem with that man. Bringing back all those old rules. He’s setting us back decades.”

  Luna sighed. “I know. I’m working on that.”

  “Working?”

  “He has a peculiar interest in me, let’s just say.”

  “Luna, what you saying!”

  Luna’s trilling laughter spilled out onto the dim path ahead. “I’m just leveraging our rapport to my advantage. He likes me.”

  Hermione’s eyes bulged. “Likes you? What do you mean?”

  Luna glowed. “You know, me!” She made a rude gesture with her hands.

  Hermione blanched, “Luna! He’s married!”

  “Of course, and 30 years my senior. But the prospect of a spring/winter romance is always…fascinating.”

  “For you or for him?”

  “Hermione! I would never! He’s much too predictable and dull. I can only imagine him expounding on the accounting practices of mid-6th century Celts while making love. Talk about a buzz kill!” Her sparkling laughter lit up the night.

  “But Luna, what if he realizes you have no interest? He’s the !”

  Luna waved her hand dismissively. “I’m too much a wild card. He needs the Quibbler and I’m not going to break his heart. I know him well enough to keep him eating from the palm of my hand without him realizing he’s starving.”

  “I don’t know, Luna. He’s so much more…experienced. I think it all could end badly.”

  Luna shrugged, the Hogwarts castle looming ahead.

  “So what are you going to tell him?”

  “Since centaurs have a vast and wide historical memory and strong social structure, they would be ideal allies for the Hogwarts Gala defenses. Can you imagine?”

  Hermione shook her head. “I’m not so sure. Centaurs tend to avoid human interaction.”

  “Except Gelien, remember? He’s the nut we need to crack. Are you sure you can take off to meet him? I think we should both be there.”

  “Yes. But you heard Hagrid. Maybe after my meeting tomorrow morning? I should be free.” They climbed the stairs, the doors opening for them.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Luna smiled brightly.

  She leaned in and hugged Hermione. She caught a whiff of Luna’s earthy funk, knowing full well where it came from.

  “Good night, dear,” Luna beamed. “You need this.”

  Laying in bed, Hermione’s mind wandered. she need this? What could a conflicted centaur have anything to do with her own problems? Luna seemed oblivious to the world’s troubles and was never fazed.

  Her thoughts shifted to Ron.

  To her surprise and shame, she became aware of a dull, aching need. Her hand slipped below the waistband of her panties, as if on their own accord.

  The damp heat down there demanded an answer she couldn’t provide.

  She pulled her hand out, made a fist, and fell into a fitful sleep.

  He stood before her, arms crossed over his bare muscled chest, dark skin reflecting blue in the moonlight. The wind swept his long hair and tail like a flock of ravens. The dull ache had crystallized her belly, his piercing stare somehow seeing the heat there, the source of her anguish. It was then she realized she was naked.

  “Why such burning desire?” he murmurs softly. “Why such unrequited passion? You torture yourself…and me.” His gaze met hers.

  Hermione was at a loss for words or could not speak in her dream. She was undeniably aroused.

  “It feels sweet, no? It’s so thick I can taste it. It calls me. I can’t help but be drawn to it. See? My own desire awakens.”

  To Hermione’s growing fascination and horror, she saw it emerge from the shadows between his haunches, thick and pendulous.

  “Your desire calls me to life,” the centaur said reverently, gesturing to it with a nod of his head, his hair swirling in the breeze.

  Hermione finds her voice. “But I didn’t mean to! It’s not me! It’s so…unnatural.”

  “You do not know what you say. Your body calls, my nature answers. What could be more natural?”

  He steps closer, his hooves sending deep vibrations through the soft Earth to her bare feet. He kneels down and extends his hand to her.

  Her breath hitches. “You are more than what you hide from yourself.”

  His warm hand brushes the nape of her neck. Then it happens.

  Her body quakes and her breath comes in ragged gasps. She feels as if she’s falling, sees a wide swath of stars, a jewel box set in the dark sky, pulsing with light.

  She wakes to a pitch black room, noting the alarm clock, 1:25 AM. The sweet release, though, leaves her unsettled..

  themhim

  The back and forth continued until she succumbed to the sweet oblivion of sleep as the alarm blared at 6:30.