Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition as Beater 1 for the Appleby Arrows.

Prompts:

(word) hate

(quote) "God doesn't need to punish us. He just grants us a long enough life to punish ourselves." Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.

She was running. Fast. Her lungs were on fire, her eyes were watery (with tears or just because the wind was coming straight at her- she didn't know) and she could feel every rock and stick that cut her feet.

As she ran she kept her eyes peeled out for any source of light that would indicate there was a house nearby. She was tired of running, and terribly wanted to rest. They had probably stopped chasing her, but she couldn't take her chances.

She would not go back to that cell.

Having gotten lost in her mind, she missed the huge branch sticking out on the forrest floor and tripped over it, hitting her head on a nearby boulder in the process. Before she could even blink, she was knocked out.

"Prince Potter, the Queen has requested your presence in the gardens."

"Tell mother I'm busy."

"Your Highness-"

"I'm only joking. Tell mother I'll be right down," the dark haired Prince smiled at the servant before turning to his horse. He had just about to go on a ride, hopefully to get a chance to get away from all the pressures of the castle. He sighed, 'Ah well,' he thought, 'There's always later.'

"Mother!" he called when he found her minutes later. She turned from her spot near a rose bush, and smiled, making her green eyes sparkle.

"Harry, my dear. How are you?" She opened her arms for a hug, which Harry accepted.

"Fine, mother. And you?" he asked.

"I'm a little worried about you Harry-"

"Oh not this again-"

"Why can't you find a wife? They're perfectly good noble witches out there, and you could have any of them!"

"If I knew this is what you wanted to talk about, I would have never come out in the first place. I'm leaving." Harry turned his back on his mother, walking back to where his horse was on the other end of the castle grounds.

"Harry James Potter come back here!" he heard his mother call over his shoulder.

He took off with a sprint.

"Ughhh," she grabbed her head. Everything was fuzzy. And everything hurt so much, especially her head. She brought her hands down, and gasped seeing them covered in blood. Her blood.

She heard a horse prance nearby.

"Help," she called out weakly.

The blackness was creeping back into her vision.

Enraged, Harry's few minutes on his horse surprisingly did not calm him down. 'Marriage,' he thought, 'Why must that always be on her mind. Why doesn't she under-' his thoughts were cut off as he heard a voice cry out a call for help.

He jumped off of his horse, and made his way to where he heard the voice. There, lying on the forest floor, was a young woman covered in blood and dirt.

"Hello!" he called out, but she groaned in response. "Oh my Merlin," he said, running up to her to pick her up. "No, no, no, stay with me." He saw the girl starting to go back to unconscious. Grabbing his wand out of his cloak, Harry was ready to cast a spell to revive her. He put the girl onto the front of his horse, and dragged them both back to the castle.

"What happened, where am I?"

"Ah, so she awakes."

Hermione jumped, looking for the owner of the voice.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help you," an old woman said, "I'm Madame Pomfrey."

"I-I don't understand."

"We consider ourselves lucky to have such a great, selfless Prince. He found you while riding around yesterday, took you straight to me."

"Prince?"

"You're in the Kingdom of Hogwarts, welcome. What's your name?"

"Elizabeth," Hermione lied. "My name is Elizabeth."

"You wouldn't happen to be the Lost Princess, would you?"

Hermione's head turned so fast it almost snapped. "The Lost Princess," she said, acting confused, "Do I look like a Princess to you?"

Harry pursed his lips, nearing her, "I think that you're the same age she would have been. I think that you have an uncanny resemblance to King Daniel and Queen Emmaline. I think that I found you practically unconscious in the woods, with your feet bleeding. Either you walked in broken glass, or you ran in the forrest."

He took another step forward, now inches away from her face. Hermione gulped, looking away. He was so close, too close. "You're Prince Harry then?"

"I think I have been very lenient with you, Elizabeth. I haven't asked any questions, but I would like some answers. Now."

"What would you like to know?" Hermione said evenly.

"What were you doing in the forrest? Were you running from something?" he asked.

"Not something. Someone," she said. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, silently urging her to continue.

Taking a huge breath, she said, "Your Highness, please, I do not want to talk about it. It just brings back terrible memories."

Harry gave a short nod, and then surprised her with his response, "Very well then. Would you like some tea?"

Confused, Hermione nodded. She watched as he asked one of his servants to go fetch their tea and after a few minutes in silence, it came.

Bringing the cup to her lips, Harry watched as she drank. "What do you think of me, Elizabeth?" he asked.

Taken aback, Hermione wasn't prepared for what came out of her own mouth. "I think you are very noble, very wise, a great warrior. Not to mention you are quite handsome," Hermione's hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide.

Harry didn't react, but instead asked her another question. "Who are you?"

"I am Hermione Granger," she gulped, "I am the Lost Princess."

"I thought as much, why would you like to me about that?" Harry asked, he brought his hands to his head, coming through his thick hair, frustrated. "Never mind, don't answer that. What happened to you, why did you go missing?"

"It wasn't my choice," Hermione spat, "They took me away. Locked me in a cell. Tortured me, trying to fix me." Her eyes started watering and a tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

Harry's face softened, and he took his thumb to wipe the tear away. Quietly, he asked, "Trying to fix you from what?"

Now Hermione was full on tears and she was shaking her head, "No," she sobbed, "No, no, no. Please, don't make me answer. Please."

"Eliza- Hermione. It's okay. You're okay. I won't let them get you, but first I have to know what it is you are hiding. I can't protect you if I don't know," he said.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold back what her mouth was trying to get out. After fruitless minutes of fighting with herself, she lost.

"I have magic. I'm a witch."

Hearing nothing, and feeling panicked, Hermione opened her eyes. Harry stood up and turned around, walking towards the fireplace. He turned back and locked eyes with her, then looked back at the empty fireplace. Before she could blink, he had a wand in his hand and pointed to the wood, which burst into flames.

Mouth open, Hermione was surprised. "Y-You're a witch too," was all she could say.

Harry smirked, "Wizard, actually."

"What did you do to me."

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked, confused. If anything he thought she would have been happy knowing she wasn't alone.

"You made me say things," she paused, "I've never told anyone. I want to know how."

Harry pursed his lips, but nodded his head down to her hands which were still holding her cup of tea, "A truth serum in your tea. I've always had a knack for knowing when someone's keeping secrets from me. And I've always had a knack for not knowing when to bug out of someone's business. I understand that it was an invasion of your privacy, I'm sorry. I just- I had to know." Harry took a moment to breath, "And like I said earlier, you have nothing to fear. I can protect you."

Hermione let out a sarcastic laugh, "Please," she said, "I believed for years that God would help me. That he would hear my prayers and get my parents to see that I wasn't an abomination. That he would get them to release me."

"Herm-"

"No, let me get this out. For sixteen years I've been locked in a cell. Sixteen years. I'm eighteen, Harry. At this point I dreamed that I'd have friends, extravagant balls... that I'd be married. Instead, I was punished. And I wished for so many things during that time, including that everyone who'd hurt me would be punished by God. I hate them. I hate them so much."

"God doesn't need to punish us. He just grants us a long enough life to punish ourselves."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That's if he even exists."

Harry rushed towards her, "Don't talk like that," he whispered harshly, covering her mouth. "The last thing you need is to be executed for your lack of faith."

"I've always preferred reason over faith."

Harry shook his head, "Just stop. This isn't what we need to worry about. What we need to worry about is what we're going to do now that we know for sure you're the Lost Princess."

"So the truth serum was some sort of a test?"

"Yes," he smiled, "And you passed. With flying colors, in fact."

"And now?" Hermione asked.

"And now, I think it's time to talk to my mother. She'll be very happy meeting a new witch. Especially one of royalty."

Harry held out his hand, which Hermione hesitantly took. She didn't know what was going to happen, what with her parents finding her alive in another kingdom under the safety of royalty, and with this spark that lit inside her every time she thought about Harry being her protector.

In the end, the Lost Princess knew she was going to be okay.