Chapter Eight

When Harry awoke on the morning of June 26th, he remained in his bed thinking to himself for what seemed like an eternity. The summer so far had been unsurprisingly eventful to say the least. There had been the aftermath of the battle, the clean up operation, the trauma of the funerals, the death eater attacks, and the discovery that he was the wealthiest young wizard in Britain. But as he considered these events to himself, he knew the most important discovery he had made in the last few weeks was of how to live his life in a way that was approaching normal. His youth had been thoroughly torn away from him by the unrelenting spectre of Voldemort and only very recently had he felt what it was truly like to be a carefree teenager. And he knew one other thing for certain. He had fallen head over heels in love with Ginny, cherishing every precious second he had spent with her.

He began to consider their relationship and how he had promised Molly and Arthur that they would not partake in a fully physical relationship until she was of age. He knew just how much he had come to regret that promise, but knew also that it would be for the best; their first time together would be extra special. Subconsciously, he began grinning to himself as he got lost in thoughts of his beautiful girlfriend who truly loved him for who he was…

'Why you so happy mate?' Ron exclaimed as he bolted upright and noticed Harry's expression.

Harry jumped slightly, thinking his best friend was still asleep.

'Wha…oh…yeah, I'm just happy we're getting to meet the Swedish minister for magic this afternoon,' he lied, his voice unconvincing to say the least.

'Oh right,' replied Ron, seemingly taken in by Harry's white lie, 'blimey, I forgot about that as well.'

Harry and Ron chatted idly for a few minutes before they dragged themselves out of bed and made their way downstairs for breakfast. Molly smiled at them both as they immediately entered the kitchen, the waft of sizzling bacon just too much to resist.

'Morning dears, your breakfast is on the table.'

'Thanks mum,' they replied in unison as they sat down.

Ron seated himself next to Hermione, who kissed him on the cheek before allowing him to lunge towards the plate of food in front of him.

'Morning love,' came Ginny's voice from the hallway as she ran into the kitchen and promptly planted a kiss on Harry's lips.

'Ginny dear, your breakfast is on the table as well,' stated Molly without turning around from the cooker.

The four friends swiftly ate breakfast without saying another word; in the time Harry had spent at the Burrow, he had found himself as partial to Molly's delicious cooking as Ron and Ginny. When they had finished, Molly walked over to the table and flicked her wand at the plates which floated obediently to the sink.

'So Harry,' she said matter-of-factly, 'Kingsley sent an owl last night saying that we're to be at the ministry for half past three this afternoon. He wishes to speak with you first, and then we can all catch the portkey to Kopparberg at four thirty, for a meeting with the Swedish minister at five o'clock.'

Harry nodded.

'That sounds fine mum, but first I need to take a quick trip into Diagon Alley this morning to buy a Firebolt Inferno service kit,' he said, his voice full of enthusiasm, 'it needs to be in tip-top shape if I'm gunna have any chance of winning. Would it be OK if Ginny came with me?'

Molly winced slightly, but nodded her approval nonetheless.

'Yes I suppose it'll be safe enough, but make sure you both go under the cloak though as the media representatives from the Daily Prophet are still searching for you.'

'OK, we will mum. I'm going to go and change,' he replied.

'Yeah me too,' Ron added.

--

An hour later, the four friends flooed to Diagon Alley; Harry with his invisibility cloak strewn over himself and Ginny, Hermione and Ron each wearing one of George's enchanted hoodies. After Harry had purchased the finest Firebolt Inferno service kit, they all made their way to the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer before heading back to the Burrow. Whilst they drank and chatted amongst themselves, Harry noticed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet lying on the bar. The front page consisted of a picture of the Malfoy family sitting nervously inside the ministry for magic. Their trials had been held in the last week. It had taken nearly two months to go through all the trials of suspected death eaters and the Malfoys were amongst the last group to be tried. Astonishingly, it appeared that they had all walked away free after claiming to be imperierised.

Harry's bitter anger at this injustice was apparent, but before he could say anything, Ginny had put her finger to his mouth and urged him to stay calm. When the four of them arrived back to the Burrow, Harry immediately sought out Arthur to discuss the matter.

'Dad, why's the ministry not sent Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban?' he enquired sharply.

Arthur sighed, obviously expecting Harry to present this question to him at some point, 'There was, rather unfortunately, no evidence to suggest that he wasn't under the imperius curse, even though you and I know differently. However, if it's any consolation, he was fined a large portion of his fortune and Narcissa left him, taking Draco with her.'

Harry's expression of pure anger did not change.

'I can't believe he's gotten away with this, if I'd known when the trial was, I would've given evidence.'

'That would've been impossible I'm afraid to say. All of the trials had to be kept a secret so that the public didn't turn up in numbers, and to prevent evasive death eaters attempting to free them.'

Harry agreed with the ministry's actions somewhat, but was still fuming. How could Lucius walk free after all that had happened? Arthur had noticed Harry's pent up fury and attempted to calm him.

'Harry, please don't let it bother you,' he said reassuringly, 'Lucius is a coward, he isn't a threat on his own.'

Harry agreed with this too. Ginny rubbed her hand up and down Harry's arm as he and her father conversed. When Harry had finished venting his anger, and Arthur had finished explaining the ministry's actions, things became quite calm once again. Harry decided this was as good a moment as any to go and pack for the excursion to Sweden. Ginny, Hermione and Ron did likewise.

--

It was approaching three thirty in the afternoon when the all of the Weasleys (minus Charlie, who was currently searching in Eastern Europe for a rare species of Macedonian dragon), along with Harry, Hermione, and Fleur began to congregate in the kitchen of the Burrow. One after the other, they flooed to the ministry where they were due to rendezvous with Kingsley. Upon stepping out of the fire, the imposing but friendly figure of the minister greeted them.

'Welcome, all of you. Before Harry heads to Sweden, I need to have a brief word with him. I'm sure you,' he asserted, nodding towards Arthur, 'know how to Portkey everyone else safely to your destination.'

Arthur nodded as Kingsley continued.

'I'll bring Harry to you in half an hour or so.'

Kingsley showed Harry towards his office as everyone else walked off in the opposite direction following Arthur's lead. Once inside the spacious room, the minister showed Harry towards a jet black dragon-hide seat, and took his place on a similar chair directly opposite. After conjuring two small glasses of mead, Kingsley passed one to Harry and began to speak.

'Harry, there's just a couple of things I must say before you journey to Sweden. First of all, I want to wish you good luck for the race, from what I hear from your friends you have an excellent chance of success. Secondly, I wanted to voice my concerns about your safety. I've spoken to the Mr. Henningberg, the Swedish minister, and he assures me that there will be Swedish Aurors on duty for the duration of the race. Just promise me you'll stay vigilant, as death eaters could have easily gotten wind of your partaking in the race.'

Harry was nodding his approval but couldn't prevent himself from frowning.

'With all due respect Kingsley, I understand your concerns,' he said cautiously, 'I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried myself, but I can't hide myself away forever. Also, the only way we'll ever know what they wanted to achieve by attacking me at the funeral is if they try and get to me again.'

Kingsley looked deep in thought as he looked Harry up and down.

'I appreciate everything that you say, you're certainly going to have to face the world sooner or later, but you shouldn't under any circumstances offer yourself as bait Harry. Despite their depleted numbers, any remaining death eaters may still cause a considerable threat to yourself.'

'OK,' replied Harry understandingly, 'I'll make sure I don't make my public appearances too obvious, but I'm not going to hide away from anyone.'

'Good, good, I just wanted to make sure you knew that there's a chance you could be attacked, and to remind you to stay on your guard at all times,' said Kingsley, beginning to smile pleasantly. 'Well, now that I've made that clear, and you understand perfectly, I wanted to ask you about last year again if you don't mind?'

Harry grimaced slightly but responded in kind.

'No, not at all, what else did you want to know?'

'I just wanted to check whether you'll be recounting the events of last year to the public, after all, the whole wizarding world's still asking about it.'

Harry sighed, before he conversed with Kingsley for the next twenty minutes about writing up an article with Ron and Hermione concerning last year's events. Harry also stated that it would only be made available for publication it in the Quibbler; after all of the bad press he'd received from the Daily Prophet over the years, there was no way he was letting them twist this particular story to make more galleons. Kingsley took everything on board, thanked Harry for agreeing, and promised him that he would arrange for the Quibbler's publication after the story was down in writing.

When all had been said, the minister rushed Harry to the international portkey, and Harry felt himself being dragged by the navel as everything went dark for a few seconds. The next thing he knew, he was standing in yet another office, this time with a large Swedish flag levitating magically behind a grand mahogany desk. Upon regaining his senses, he looked around to see his family standing near the arched doorway conversing with a short, stout wizard. The elderly wizard, his extensive grey beard nearly touching the floor, was dressed in bright yellow dress robes. He turned from the Weasleys upon noticing Harry's arrival.

'Ah Mister Potter, I'm Egil Jakobssen, advisor to the Swedish minister himself,' he said in a soft Scandinavian accent, 'how very pleased I am to meet you. Welcome to Sweden, our people are fascinated by your participation in the broom race.'

Harry, offering his hand, smiled and spoke.

'Thank you, I hope I won't disappoint them.'

Egil responded by shaking his hand and motioning towards the corridor on the other side of the door.

'Please follow me then everyone,' he said in an authoritative tone, 'I shall take you to see our minister, Henrik Henningberg. He is eagerly anticipating your arrival.'

Everyone followed without another word, as Ginny grabbed a hold of Harry's hand. Eventually, after walking down a series of winding corridors, they stopped outside a set of spectacular double doors. A large golden plaque displaying the Swedish minister's name and three crowns (the national emblem of Sweden, pointed out Hermione) left no one in any doubt as to who the office belonged. Egil knocked on the door and Henrik Henningberg answered immediately. He was a reasonably tall, thin looking man of middle-age, but his neatly cropped blonde hair and strong jaw line gave him a much more youthful complexion. Upon seeing his guests, he began waving his arms towards the innards of his office, his striking electric blue robes flailing as he welcomed everybody.

'Hello there, please do all come inside,' he began in a Swedish accent much more prominent than that of his advisor who had accompanied them, 'I've been anticipating your arrival with much excitement.'

Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys entered the room as Henrik continued to wave them through the door. It was a tall and imposing office, with metallic coated desk positioned towards the rear and just in front of a gigantic fireplace. Oaken bookcases overflowing with ancient scripts lined three of the four walls, and the fourth wall was home to a shiny glass window that opened out onto an oblong balcony. The Swedish minister flicked his wand gracefully and two comfortable-looking sofas and a large round table appeared opposite his desk. Another swish of his wand ensured that several plates full of delicious looking finger food were conjured onto the table, along with pitchers of pumpkin juice and bottles of Glogg (a spiced and sweetened Swedish wine, he informed them). Ron's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at all of the food as the minister gestured for them to sit down, smiling pleasantly. Everyone duly obliged.

Henrik then began to welcome his guests one by one, with a firm handshake for the men and a kiss on either cheek for the women. Lastly, he arrived at Harry, who was sitting on the end of one of the sofas next to Ginny. The minister's pearly blue eyes lit up upon seeing Harry in person.

'Ah, Mr. Harry Potter,' he began, shaking Harry's hand intently, 'the chosen one, and our savior, such an honour to finally meet you. I can't possibly thank you enough for everything you have done for wizarding kind. I feel privileged that you have chosen to take part in our famous national broom race, our people have never before been as excited about the event.'

Harry returned the minister's handshake and smiled feebly at him.

'Nice to meet you too minister, I've been looking forward to the race for quite a few days now.'

The minister continued to heap praise on Harry for what seemed like hours. The Weasleys and Hermione sat there patiently, occasionally joining in the conversation. Harry hated situations like these, but had no choice other than to sit there and take the numerous compliments flying in his direction, whilst trying to remain as modest as ever.

It was approaching seven o'clock when Henrik bade them goodnight and showed them to their accommodation within the ministry building. They had not brought any dreamless sleep potion with them, so Harry and Ginny were given permission by Molly to sleep in the same bed. They were both to share a room with Ron and Hermione. Due to Ginny's close presence, Harry was thankfully able to sleep peacefully in preparation for the following day's race.

--

Morning approached and Harry awoke early. He stayed in bed sitting upright for an hour, preparing himself mentally for the challenge lying ahead, before Ginny began to stir. She spotted him sitting up and promptly pulled him back down underneath the covers, kissing him several times in the process.

'You're going to win today Harry, I just know it.'

Harry grinned at her confidence.

'I'm gunna try my best Gin, I'll have to see what happens though 'cos it'll be tough,' he responded, trying to be realistic.

'Oh, you'll do fine love, just believe in yourself,' she said, hugging him tightly.

The pair conversed some more about the race for a while before Ron and Hermione awoke and the quartet decided to get up and prepare themselves for the day ahead. The morning seemed to fly over, and before Harry knew it, Egil was knocking at the door. The minister's advisor informed him, as he grabbed his Firebolt Inferno from under the bed, that another member of the Swedish ministry would collect the Weasleys and Hermione in fifteen minutes. Ginny ran over, kissed Harry on the lips, wished him good luck once more and told him she would be waiting at the finishing line.

Egil then promptly apparated to Kopparberg with Harry following side-along. They landed in a small, well lit building, and Harry was shown through the door in front of him into a spacious-looking room with several rows of backless dragon-hide seats. Glancing around, Harry could see that the room was already full with his fellow competitors. He instantly recognized the whole of Puddlemere United quidditch team congregated in one corner, and then began to spot other famous names scattered around the room. One such celebrity was the Bulgarian quidditch player Viktor Krum, the youngest ever international seeker. He nodded in recognition as Harry caught his eye. To his surprise, Harry also saw his ex-Hogwarts quidditch captain, the legendary Gryffindor keeper Oliver Wood. Harry waved across the room to him as Wood gave Harry the thumbs up in return.

The pre-race briefing took around an hour, and was conducted by three additional member of the Swedish ministry. Harry felt the adrenaline beginning to surge through his veins, as the route and various other instructions and rules were disclosed to the competitors. Immediately after the briefing, all of the competitors were ushered out of the building and to the corner of the wide cobbled street on which it stood. Harry looked to his left and noticed a large stall giving out the shirts for the race. He pushed his way briskly through the crowds of fellow competitors and grabbed himself a shirt. When he was asked to state his name, the young witch serving him looked like she was about to feint, before she recomposed herself and waved her wand over the plain white garment. The number 723appeared in black writing on the back with the name POTTER arched just above it.

Only when he broke away from the congregation around the stall did Harry notice the crowd around the corner. Glancing upwards, he saw two gigantic stands on either side of the street holding several thousand spectators. The cheers became gradually louder as Harry inched his way towards the starting line, holding on to his broom tightly. Henrik Henningberg suddenly apparated onto a wooden podium next to the start and used his wand to amplify his voice. After silencing the crowds, he announced that Harry Potter was going to be racing. Despite the fact the many of the spectators had come for this reason alone, there still came collective gasp of anticipation from the crown upon hearing the Swedish minister's words. Harry felt blood rushing to his cheeks as his bowed his head and tried to focus solely on the race ahead. Henrik then wished all competitors good luck and told everyone to prepare themselves at the starting line with their brooms.

The crowd went silent as their anticipation began to build. Concentration was etched across Harry's face as he mounted his broom and waited for the signal to go. The Swedish minister's voice then boomed out across the street.

'I trust you all know the rules. There will be stewards located every half mile along the route who will ensure everyone remains on course for Arjeplog. Should anyone break a rule, their number shall be noted and they shall be disqualified. Everyone is to begin on my signal!'

After a further second of deadly silence, Henrik waved his wand high into the air and sent a streak of red sparks flying upwards, signaling the start of the race. Harry pushed off the ground as hard as he could with both feet. He leant forward as he zoomed straight ahead into the dense crowd of fellow competitors. His goggles pressed firmly into his face, he felt his feet leave the ground as he angled his Firebolt Inferno upwards into the space above. After breaking free of the main crown, Harry soon found himself out in front of most of the competition and latched onto the rear of the leading pack. He noticed Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies just in front of him. Viktor Krum and two other wizards, whom Harry did not recognize, appeared to be joint leaders.

Harry pressed on, trying desperately to keep his broom in a straight line by making his body as aerodynamic as possible. A strong head wind and piercingly bright sunshine certainly weren't doing anything to help. Twenty miles into the race, the speed of his custom built Inferno model began to tell. He found himself overtaking Gwenog Jones and was now almost level with Krum. Harry didn't dare look at Bulgarian, but Krum on the other hand couldn't resist. He glanced sideways at Harry, and in the process lost some of his forward momentum. Harry took his chance and executed a perfect overtaking maneuver on Krum as the course took a sharp turn to the right.

The adrenaline rush was phenomenal as Harry seized third place and began to rapidly accelerate away from the frustrated looking figure behind him. Up until this point, the two wizards in front had appeared far superior racers to Harry. They had both achieved a better start than him, but his slimmer frame, combined with a Firebolt Inferno, was beginning to pay dividends and he was slowly but surely gaining on them. As he pulled out of a corner and onto a three mile straight, Harry accelerated his broom to maximum speed. The spectators around the sides of the course were merely disfigured blurs as he glanced occasionally sideways. As he approached the end of the straight, the pace of the Inferno had taken Harry comfortably into second place and he was now hanging from the coat tails of the race leader.

The route however, began to get more difficult as Harry closed in on the lead. Despite the first sector of the race taking place at least one hundred feet above the ground, the next sector was to be flown from a considerably lower and more challenging height. The stewards and course markers gradually directed the competitors downwards, and Harry suddenly noticed he would have to negotiate flight through a dense, expansive forest. Diving to suitable height for entry in between the trees, Harry slowed down excessively, unintentionally allowing the wizard in third place to re-take him for second.

Staying in hot pursuit of his competitor, Harry narrowly swerved around a large pine tree before taking his Inferno to ridiculously fast velocities once more. The rider in front of him realized he was being tailed closely and decided to try and shake him off, weaving from side to side and denying Harry the room to overtake. His plan worked, and Harry decided he would just have to follow the two wizards in front, staying as close as possible, until they were out of the forest. Once he was in the clear, he assumed, the lead would surely be there for the taking.

After one hundred and fifty miles, about halfway through the course, the forest opened out into sweeping farmland. Harry was still flying comfortably in third place, only just behind the leading two wizards. He suddenly realized, especially with the unrivalled acceleration of the Firebolt Inferno, that he would be better at chasing down a target rather than taking the lead and trying to maintain it for such a long time. Reversing his earlier decision on the spur of the moment, he decided to follow the leaders closely until the last fifty miles of the race.

Some one hundred miles later, after negotiating eighty treacherous miles along the course of a river, Harry decided that it was almost time to make his move on the leaders. Despite the incredibly difficult section of the course they'd just flown, he had managed to stay within reach of the two wizards in front, who had repeatedly been grappling with one another for first place. However, the winding route had slowed down all of the front three to the extent that other competitors behind them were beginning to close in.

This was crunch time thought Harry; just under fifty miles remained and, as indicated by the giant magical timers suspended in mid air every five miles, he had been flying for two hours and twenty minutes. The course record was just over two hours and thirty seven minutes. Harry knew he had every chance of winning and setting a new record, but still needed to be extremely wary of those just behind as well as trying to catch those in front. Leaning forward with all his might, he gripped the broom tightly and shot forwards, using every last ounce of energy left in his fatigued body.

Neither of the two wizards in front of him were flying Firebolt Infernos and it soon became apparent. Harry shot past both of them, approaching his top speed of two hundred and sixty miles per hour, as he took the lead for the first time. However, someone else did possess the Inferno, and that someone had seen Harry accelerate and had done likewise from fourth place. Viktor Krum was well and truly back in the race as he made a move of his own, taking third and then second place from the tiring wizards who had previously held the lead. They both tried desperately to respond, but their brooms simply couldn't match the speed of the Inferno. A quick glance over his shoulder informed Harry of the rapidly changing situation behind. He knew now that there was only going to be two possible winners; himself or Krum. And was utterly determined to make sure that it wasn't the Bulgarian.

With ten miles to go, Harry was only two hundred yards in the lead and was having to race through corners at dangerously high velocities to retain his slender advantage over Krum. He still had the course record in his sights as well, if only he could keep his concentration for a few more minutes…

'Avada Kedavra!'

…sparks of brilliant green light missed Harry by inches and smashed into the ground below, blasting jagged rocks into smithereens. Harry's defensive instincts instantly took over and his heart began trying to break through his chest as he noticed six brooms racing towards him, each carrying a hooded figure. Swerving and diving at a perilously acute angle, he tried frantically to lose what looked like death eaters on his tail. He narrowly avoided further jets of green and red light as various curses flew in his direction.

A race steward noticed the situation and dashed towards Harry's attackers, trying to intervene. The furthest back of the masked riders spotted the steward coming and shot a killing curse at him before he could react; it hit the steward square in the chest, knocking him from his broom. The wizard's lifeless body caught Harry's arm as it fell to earth like a rock. Harry's wand flew from his hand, and in despair he pointed with his hand at the steward's killer. Without warning, an incredible burst of silver light shot through the air, striking the masked rider in the face and throwing to the ground below.

Harry suddenly realized he'd cast yet more wand-less magic without even thinking properly. Knowing he still therefore had a chance to save his wand, without further delay he pointed downwards with his hand and thought in his head, "Accio wand!". Sure enough, his wand flew back towards him at speed as Harry grabbed it and held on tightly.

Another masked rider however, had taken advantage of Harry's moment of hesitation upon reclaiming his wand. The attacker fired sectumsempra and the curse caught Harry on the back of his left calf muscle. A searing pain shot through the lower half of his body and he could feel the unpleasant warmth of blood trickling down his leg. Now was not the time to worry unless about that though, unless he wanted to die he thought. He was just relieved the spell hadn't taken his leg clean off.

Scrambling desperately with his wand, Harry managed to cast protego repeatedly despite still trying to fly his broom in a straight line and endure the pain radiating from his damaged leg. The shield charms managed to rebound several of the curses still flying towards him, giving Harry a few seconds in which to try and act. He leant forwards on his broom once more and tried to accelerate away from the masked riders. However, it was no use, he didn't have enough energy to get back to full speed and they managed to keep pace with him. Harry carried on leaning forwards with all his strength, hoping against hope that somebody would come to his aid before he was killed.

--

Ginny was standing in anticipation at the Arjeplog finishing point when she realized something was badly wrong. Seeing jets of magic lighting up the grey skies only a few miles in the distance, her eyes began to widen with apprehension.

"Oh Merlin, please not Harry," she thought, knowing full well that if someone was being attacked it would almost certainly be her boyfriend.

Everyone congregated around the finish line had seen the ensuing magical fight by now; the colourful jets of light were getting closer with each passing second. The rest of the Weasley clan gasped in horror as they noticed what Ginny had seen only moments earlier. From the expressions on their faces, they were apparently thinking exactly the same thing as she was. Ginny suddenly noticed three wizards to her left mount brooms of their own and head rapidly towards the rainbow of magic on the horizon. Looking at their robes, she presumed they must be Swedish Aurors. She certainly hoped so.

--

Harry was drastically running out of ideas when he saw three figures heading towards him in the opposite direction. Thinking the worst he dived once more to avoid what he presumed to be further attackers. However, they passed over Harry and flew straight towards the wizards behind. The Aurors began dueling Harry's attackers immediately, giving him time to slow his broom and mount a counter attack of his own. As he turned to fire counter jinxes, Harry noticed Krum had reappeared from nowhere and was manfully assisting the Aurors in knocking three of the figures from their brooms.

Seizing his opportunity amongst the confusion, Harry sent a double expelliarmus spell (one with his wand, the other non-verbally) at his remaining attackers who were trying desperately to resist the onslaught of the Aurors. One missed by inches but the other found its target, disarming one of the hooded figures. The attacker flew steeply downwards, frantically trying to retrieve his wand. Krum, noticing the plight of the wand-less figure, accelerated with all of his strength and rammed him hard. The attacker was thrown sideways from his broom and went crashing helplessly towards the ground below.

Just as Harry thought they were beginning to gain the upper hand on the enemy, he was caught off guard by another curse coming from behind him. One of the masked figures had managed to knock an Auror from his broom, down to an inevitable death, and had turned his attention instantly back towards the prime target of Harry. The blasting curse smashed directly into Harry's right elbow. He swore loudly in pain as every bone in his lower arm shattered. The pain was so severe he almost blacked out before a surge of adrenaline, mixed with an overriding desire to survive, took over.

No longer able to grip his broom with both hands, he held on for dear life with only one and made a further attempt at outpacing his two remaining attackers. Taking his Inferno back to speeds approaching two hundred miles per hour (no mean feat considering his perilous condition) he began to pull away. And then, there it was. He could see the crowds congregated merely three miles in the distance. The finishing line. Harry realized he had no choice; defeat his attackers in the next few moments or innocent spectators would be injured or killed.

His emotions taking full control, Harry shot an explosion of non-verbal magic in quick succession at the two dark wizards behind, who were still in hot pursuit. The force of the magic was so great that his attackers were caught completely off guard. A combination of stunners and disarming spells erupted into them and they were thrown several feet into the air before falling in the opposite direction. Harry heard two sickening crunches as their bodies made impact with the rocky terrain below. Looking back in front of him, he saw the finish less than five hundred yards away; he was going to win, he was going to survive, he was in unprecedented agony, he was consumed by total darkness…

--

When Harry crossed the finishing line, cheers from the crowd erupted as his time flashed magically across the sky above. Two hours and thirty eight minutes, just one minute outside the course record. The spectators' jubilation, however, soon turned to despair when Harry's lifeless form didn't stop, but instead angled downwards towards the ground below.

Three hundred yards ahead of the finishing line stood a line of marquees intended for post-race celebrations. In a remarkable twist of good fortune, Harry's uncontrolled trajectory took him directly towards them. Still traveling at over one hundred miles per hour, the front of his Inferno clipped the top of the front marquee throwing Harry twenty feet into the air.

Ginny, who had been watching events unfold in stunned silence, let out a piercing scream upon seeing her boyfriend being thrown from his broom. Sprinting towards the scene with the rest of her family, she saw Harry's body recoil from the elasticized roof of the first marquee and on towards the next. The bounce was enough to break his fall but not to stop his momentum completely. As he was propelled once more from the second roof, his body was thrown sideways and fell towards the ground. Harry finally came to a halt as he collided with the grass below, rolled ten feet sideways, and then crashed into the side of a nearby building.

As Harry's body lay in a crumpled heap, Viktor Krum (who had finished second and landed safely afterwards) was the first person to his aid. A stunned crowd soon began to form around them, but Ginny furiously battled her way to the front followed closely by the rest of the family and several magical healers. Ginny rushed to Harry's side, tears streaming down her face as she tried hard to catch her breath. Before she could get to him however, one of the healers ordered her out of the way and screamed in urgency.

'We must get him to hospital immediately! I'm taking him to St. Mungos in England, any family members please apparate there this second. You,' called the healer pointing towards Krum who was badly injured also, 'better follow as well, you both need urgent medical assistance!'

With that, the healer grabbed Harry's limp hand and apparated towards St Mungos. The Weasleys wasted no time in following suit, before another healer grabbed Krum and turned on the spot.


A/N (30/6/08):
Just a short word to apologise for the delay in updates currently. Me and my beta/editor (dowlirts99) are currently on University summer holidays and are both working full time to earn some much needed cash. Unfortunately, we will both have less spare time for writing until the end of September, so updates will be taking 2-4 weeks until then (insted of the usual 7-10 days). In the meantime, to hopefully keep your interest whilst chapter 10 is being editied, check out our 'Meet the Author' section on the forums, where you can discover more about the both of us. Once again, many apologies, but please stay tuned as MANY more chapters will follow espcially when term time begins again in October.

Keep reading and reviewing, you're feedback is superb and is what keeps us going ;) kiagh88 and dowlirts99...