When they reappeared, they were no longer near Hogwarts, but deep in the Forbidden Forest, though not in the wild, overgrown part most would imagine. Instead, they stood in a centaur camp, a village-like clearing filled with five- to six-ter-high wooden hos and sturdy tents.
The centaurs used whole logs, animal hides, and coarse linen to build hos resembling yurts, but much taller than typical human houses, most easily over three ters high.
The camp was bustling, with dozens of these structures forming what looked more like a small village than a temporary gathering.
Since the fall of Voldemort, the scattered centaur tribes had slowly reunited under the leadership of their elders. Nearly a hundred centaurs were now stationed here, so patrolling the periter while others moved through the camp, giving the place a strong sense of unity and purpose.
This was the largest centaur settlent in the entire Forbidden Forest essentially the town center for the species. It was a hub where centaur tribes ca together to exchange goods and news.
In truth, Alex had played a huge part in helping them build this place. Over the past two years, he’d worked closely with the centaurs, building trust through trade and mutual respect.
He used materials from the wizarding world, salt, parchnt, textiles, kitchen tools, iron goods, tea, coffee, tobacco, to barter with the elders for rare items from the forest, like magical animal furs and valuable herbs. It was a simple, old-fashioned kind of trade, but it worked.
Originally, Alex had hoped to help the centaurs live more comfortably, perhaps even introduce a few conveniences from the modern wizarding world. But most of them, especially the elders, had firmly rejected the idea.
They preferred their traditional way of life, living in harmony with nature. Even when Alex brought finer cotton fabrics or precision-forged tools, they often turned them down in favor of rougher, longer-lasting linen and simpler steel tools.
At first, Alex found this difficult to understand. It felt like he was giving more than he was getting. But as ti passed, he realized that the centaurs didn’t see things the sa way.
They were willing to accept help, but only within limits. They didn't want to beco dependent or lose the customs they held dear.
In fact, when Alex gave too much, they sotis saw it as breaking the natural balance. It had taken him a while to get used to that way of thinking.
Now, as he walked through the camp, life carried on as usual. Female centaurs were hanging freshly treated furs on wooden racks to dry.
Their skill in processing magical animal hides was unmatched, even better than most shops in Diagon Alley. Alex often brought furs he’d collected elsewhere to them for treatnt, especially when he wanted to preserve the magical properties in the skin.
Nearby, adult centaurs patrolled the outskirts of the camp while a few others galloped across the dirt paths that ran through the village. The roads were covered with soft, loose soil, gentle on hooves and feet alike.
Outside several tall, tent-like houses, elderly centaurs lounged or sat quietly. So puffed on long water pipes, while others patiently carved arrows with small knives, their hands steady and practiced.
The atmosphere of the camp was a blend of calm and wildness, a quiet harmony that reflected their values.
Despite being busy with their own affairs, every centaur who saw Alex gave him a respectful nod. He was the only wizard besides Hagrid allowed to co and go freely. While Alex didn't dwell too much on it, many centaurs saw him as a trusted friend, soone who had helped bring their scattered clans back together.
Most humans, especially wizards, would be lucky to walk through here without being chased out. Yet Alex, with his sincerity and consistency, had earned sothing far more valuable than access: their respect.
The centaur community has always held a strong aversion toward humans who carelessly destroy nature.
Back in 1811, the International Confederation of Wizards officially classified centaurs as “beings,” since they t the definition of creatures with near-human intelligence. But the centaurs themselves found this classification deeply insulting.
They didn’t want to be grouped with hags, vampires, or even wizards, and instead requested to be recognized as “beasts” by the British Ministry of Magic, a decision rooted in pride and a firm desire to remain separate from what they saw as arrogant human society.
Although the Ministry’s Departnt for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has a Centaur Liaison Office, it’s largely useless. Almost no centaur ever uses it, and the position is widely seen within the Ministry as a dead-end assignnt.
So when the departnt learned about Alex’s unique relationship with the centaurs, they were thrilled. They hoped he might convince the centaurs to finally open so sort of formal dialogue and allow Ministry liaisons into the tribe. In their eyes, Alex was their best shot at bridging the gap.
Naturally, Alex didn’t agree to anything without checking with the centaurs first. But their answer was clear: no.
Not only did they refuse to allow any Ministry representative near their camp, they made it known they wouldn’t hesitate to use force if any “self-important wizard” tried to cross the line.
Oddly enough, Hagrid remained an exception, but not for the reasons most would assu. The centaurs didn’t consider him human at all, which Alex found absolutely absurd. He once jokingly complained about it to Hagrid, who just shrugged and said he didn’t mind.
Now, Alex was making his way through the outskirts of the camp with Fang at his side, heading toward the center. While there weren’t a huge number of structures here, the camp still covered a wide area. Each ho was spaced far apart, allowing for plenty of room to move freely.
After weaving through several paths, Alex arrived at a wide clearing in the heart of the camp. It was the central training ground, and at the mont, Centaur Elder Brand Varden was overseeing a group of young centaurs going through a series of rigorous drills.
They had set up a training course with fences of varying heights spread across the field. The young centaurs galloped at full speed, leaping over each barrier with powerful strides, and as soon as they landed, they drew their bows and fired arrows at swinging targets.
The training field, along with the custom equipnt and enchanted targets, had all been created by Alex.
The targets showed the hit location and the force of each arrow upon impact, an alchemical enhancent that Alex had assud the centaurs would reject outright. But after trying it out themselves, even the most traditional elders admitted it was “surprisingly useful.” Their reaction reminded Alex of that old Muggle phrase. "slls so good you can’t say no."
At that mont, a young centaur was racing across the course. With each jump, he displayed perfect timing, soaring over the first set of guardrails and releasing arrow after arrow mid-gallop.
Every shot hit dead center, clean and accurate. He didn’t break stride once, charging straight toward the next challenge.
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