Firenze

Willow had run up to the owlery on Severus’ insistence and sent off three owls. She sent one to Dru and another to Spike, each requesting blood and hair samples. The third was a letter from Severus to Ollivander, asking about availability of wand bases. She had not invited Drusilla for dinner. Once she had returned, she helped him finish the wolfsbane potion. When the wolfsbane potion was sitting in four glass jars on the edge of Severus’ desk, the professor sat beside her at the student work desk and went through the ingredients for the initial curing solution for the wand bases. “The initial curing solution is not so much difficult as time consuming. There is no magic in the solution – just careful measuring and time. If we wish to begin curing the wands tomorrow, we will have to complete the brine this afternoon and let it steep a full twenty-four hours.” That said he set a double-sized black cauldron in front of her. “Wands are usually created in pairs – thus the double-sized cauldron. Often the cores are identical, but the woods used to encase the cores will differ. Centaur hair is a fairly mundane core ingredient, if not terribly easy to come by. However, it creates a very stable wand, and is safe for a first attempt or learning exercise. The most common casings for centaur hair are water oak and elm. Occasionally chestnut is used, but it truly depends on the personality of the centaur from which the hair is obtained. If we obtain a hair from Firenze, I would prefer to try water oak and chestnut. While it is rare that anyone has a true match to a centaur-based wand, its nature is predictable enough that most any witch or wizard can use one. At the very least you will have a wand you can use with some degree of success until you have found a true match.”

Willow had been once again been dispatched from the dungeon, led by Nearly Headless Nick, who found the wand making exercise intriguing. He floated a few feet ahead of her, directing her to Firenze’s rooms. Willow rapped on the door of the ground-level classroom and heard, “Enter.” Pushing the heavy door open, she found herself face to face with the first centaur she had ever seen, and Firenze was enormous. “Greetings, human.”

“Willow.”

“You do not look like a tree, but it has been a while since I ventured to the forest. Perhaps I have forgotten.” Willow giggled nervously and then met his eyes. Firenze regarded her with both amusement and curiosity. “State your business, young Willow.”

“I would like a hair from your head. Please.” Willow retreated against the door at his frown, not having any defenses against something as big as Firenze. “For a wand core – I mean no offense. Severus sent me.”

Firenze approached Willow. “You wish to make a wand from my hair? It will not suit you.”

“I know, but Severus said it would be a safe core to start with. It is my first attempt.”

Firenze considered this information, and then plucked several hairs from his head, and indicated that Willow should retrieve one from his tail. “My condolences for your loss, young Willow.”

Willow froze, having selected a long reddish hair from Firenze’s tail. She whispered, “Who told you?”

“No one here, youngling. There are whispers among the magical creatures of your loss and your actions. I listen. I hear. The humans, they know nothing. Dumbledore respects your privacy.” Firenze paused. “Or perhaps he wishes for you to form friendships on your own terms.”

“Well, thank you, then. I suppose.” Willow tugged sharply at the hair from Firenze’s tail.

Willow turned to leave the room, but she heard the briefest tapping of hooves before she reached the door. “If you are looking for condemnation, I do not think you will find it within these walls.” Willow stopped in her tracks, whirling around to view the centaur. “Among wizards, vengeance is perhaps ill-advised, but it is not grounds for damnation. In fact, it’s often expected. Has Albus spoken with you?”

Willow shook her head. “He has been very kind. He hasn’t said anything about what I did.”

“If you were here during the school year, you would see curses and hexes flying left and right over the pettiest offenses. Rarely does a student receive more than detention for such nonsense.” Firenze crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at the girl. “Do not be so quick to condemn yourself.”

Willow shook her head back and forth, rejecting Firenze’s words. “But, the books! And what I did! I did black magic! The blackest.”

“You had great need, and the power was there for the taking. Would you do it again?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. If there was another Glory or something. If Buffy or Dawn were in danger.” Willow took a few moments to ponder it again. “Yes, I’d do it again. I just wish I hadn’t hurt Giles.”

“But your Giles, he has forgiven you, no?”

“Yes, he has. He writes every day.”

“Despite the pretty words of more naive wizards, there is no black or white magic, only containers for power and the uses they may be put to. While so-called black magic is quite seductive and easy to access, it carries a heavy price. You have paid it, no?” Willow nodded sadly. “You must forgive yourself, young Willow. Only then can you truly begin your grieving and hope to live again.”