Chapter Text
Edgar, a boy with ruddy cheeks and knobbly knees, ran after his sister, her hair a red streak between towering oaks.
Edgar and Amelia were forbidden from going too far into the wilderness, with the warning of a spank if they ever broke that rule, and so kept near to home and the main roads. Even the busiest road leading to the local town was just a wide dirt track that occasionally saw carts and carriages from merchants, travellers, and visiting aristocracy.
Hogsmeade wasn’t a large town, but it was a decent port that was almost entirely surrounded by mountains. Apart from being strategically located from a military perspective, it was a popular destination for nobility to spend their long summers.
Edgar adored going into town, feeling like a man when his father sat him up on one of the tall stools at the local tavern. The barkeeper was always willing to play the game and treat him like an adult, pretending to serve a glass of whiskey for his long day. Amelia was less interested, preferring their more modest village, one of many that surrounded the town, and the secret-swollen forest.
Edgar grabbed his sister’s arm, having caught up with her, and pulled her back as she had frozen in the middle of the road. He looked up with a mixture of awe and fear.
“Don’t worry about him. Despite how he looks he is harmless,” a young man told them as he swept a hand through his hair so that it no longer fell into his face. Edgar tore his eyes from the towering figure, having only just noticed the man with dark hair and bright hazel eyes when he started speaking.
An irritated stomp brought his attention back to what his sister had yet to be distracted from. A centaur stared down at them. The black hair that fell to his shoulders complimented his solid and sleek lower body.
The centaur’s upper half, what could be mistaken as human, was pale and bore several faded scars. Despite the stern expression, his glacial grey eyes holding the children in place, he had handsome features with a sharp jaw and high cheekbones.
“Can you not see that this is a road?” the centaur eventually said. Edgar floundered to find words.
“They’re only children,” the young man replied lightly.
“That’s all well and good, James, but I can’t be looking down all the time to make sure I don’t step on some random human urchin,” the centaur responded.
“Now, now, be-hay-ve,” James said, a smirk creeping into his features.
“I am behaving. Children should be more aware of their surroundings. It’s for their own protection as well as my need to move around without stumbling over small humans. Wait, was that a horse pun?”
“Me, my good sir, neigh!” James answered.
“Firstly, and for the last time, I am not a horse. Secondly, I will hit you,” the centaur said.
“You win. I’ll rein it in,” James relented, raising his hands in submission. However, his inability to repress a guilty grin caused his comrade to narrow his gaze. Slowly, the centaur reached for his side and began to unsheathe a deadly looking blade. The boy pulled his sister back a pace, keeping an iron grip on her arm in case they needed to run.
“You said hit, not impale!” James argued as he too moved back a step.
“Yes, I will hit you. I will hit you with my sword. Is that a problem?” the centaur asked.
“I haven’t even won the heart of my fair lady yet! Is my true love doomed to never be fulfilled?!” James melodramatically cried with a hand on his heart. The boy was beginning to wonder if the young man was being brave or simply insane.
“That’s the case whether or not I stab you,” the centaur deadpanned.
“You wound me! I thought you were family, Sirius. You should support me because one day you may be promoted to the babysitter of our beautiful children. Also, that time you said stab, which is definitely different to hitting,” James told Sirius.
“In a world where you are successful, you would put even smaller, and potentially more annoying, children under my feet to trip over? We’re going in the opposite direction of progress here,” Sirius said.
“I’m sorry for almost tripping you up,” the young girl interjected, breaking up the peculiar argument.
“Don’t worry about it, he’s just sensitive,” James kindly told the girl. Sirius just let out a long and exasperated sigh, this time stomping his rear hoof. Edgar watched with unbridled fascination as the gleaming sword was placed back in its sheath.
“We hunt monsters. That’s why we have these types of weapons,” James explained.
“Are you the famous hunters father told us about?” Edgar blurted out, excitement brimming to the point that he could hardly keep still.
“What did your father tell you?” James asked.
“Father tells us stories about a man and a centaur that kill monsters. They’re known in every country, even ones across the sea, but they were born right here,” the boy recited. He loved his father’s stories, they made him feel safe and excited for a future of daring heroics.
“Unless there is another pair like us that sounds about right. I don’t know about every country, but we’ve been around. It’s good to be home, though. The last four years were quite eventful,” James said. Edgar was only aware that his mouth had dropped open in surprise when he felt Amelia’s fingers pushing his chin up to shut it.
“Anyway, we really should be going, and your parents will be worried if you're not home soon,” James said, giving a brief farewell nod. It was then, as the pair passed, that Edgar could see all the armour and weaponry strapped to them. It was not like the procession guards, with their gleaming ceremonial armour that had never seen the field but battered and worn from battle. It was used as real protection from creatures that lurked in the dark. A large bag was strapped to the centaur’s lower body, but he seemed almost unaware of any additional weight.
Edgar and Amelia stood at the side of the road until the pair had disappeared. Grinning at each other with excited eyes, they ran home as fast as they could to tell others of the hunters they had met on the old dirt road.