***
Sir Lancelot pulled out his sword and said to Harry and Ron, "You hold the sword like so," he said as he began fighting an invisible enemy. "And ~ touché!"
Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. Well, it couldn't be that hard, could it? I mean, after all, it just look like you waved the sword in the enemy's face.
Sir Lancelot looked at them cheerfully. "Care to try?"
Harry nodded at Ron, and they fumbled for their swords.
Harry and Ron started battling. Not very well, of course ~ there were plenty of times when they both would drop their swords and have to take a time-out to pick it up and get back into momentum again. But then again, any person who had been passing the courtyard might've mistaken the many clanks, 'Argh!'s, and 'Die, you fiend!'s for a pretty intense sword fight.
Hermione, on the other hand, was still trying to work out how to shoot an arrow. She tried again. TWANG, SHOOOOOOOP, TWONG! She hit the target that time, not very far from the bulls-eye. That brought a very proud and confident smile to Hermione's face, which quickly turned to a frown as she discovered that she couldn't pull the arrow out of the target.
They trained until the sun set, streaking the clouds with pink, orange, red, and, in some cases, purple. Sir Lancelot, Harry thought as he struggled to get his armor off, really hadn't helped at all. He was like a rather talkative shadow who happened to know a bit more than he did.
"You show a lot of promise," Lancelot said, dramatically. Harry saw Ron roll his eyes as Lancelot continued. "I believe that they will be serving something for you in the Banquet Hall. There will be another training session tomorrow."
Ron and Hermione nodded briskly and set off. Harry, however, stayed.
"Er…Sir Lancelot?" Harry said, nervously.
"Yes?"
"Have you ever fought…er…Jeniva?"
Lancelot's mouth twitched.
"Yes," he replied. "I lost." He looked sky, as though lost in many painful memories. He shook it off, smiled cheerfully at Harry, and said, "But she shan't have that pleasure of victory any more, shall she, lad?" And with that he winked at him and strode off towards another part of the castle.
Harry watched him go, a curious look on his face, and then ran after Hermione and Ron, who had started wandering aimlessly in the corridors following the only thing they knew would take them to the Banquet Hall: the smell of food.
***
The obsidian walls of Jeniva's castle echoed with the clanking of a knight's armor as he kneeled before her throne.
"My lady, I have brought news of ~"
Jeniva turned her cold, black stare towards him. "Yes? Do go on, Tresbath," she goaded, bemusedly.
Tresbath nodded and bowed low to the ground. "Lancelot is…is not a proper teacher for them, my lady. It is but a farce. We have ~"
Jeniva twisted a lock of her blonde hair with her finger and gave him a twisted smile. "'Nothing to worry?' I believed you were a fool since I took you in, Tresbath, but I never knew you were an idiot. Perhaps you should go find a nice village where your attributes of stupidity will be more welcome."
He blushed slightly.
"I know that Merlin must know something about them that I do not…however," Jeniva smiled nastily. "I know something that Merlin and his pathetic students cannot even grasp with their pathetic, narrow minds."
Tresbath trembled. He swore to himself that he wouldn't ask, but both his desire to hear her voice again and his curiosity got the better of him. "W-what is it, my lady?"
Jeniva laughed. "Why, don't you know, you idiot knight? No one can defeat me!"
***
"Who's that?"
Harry looked around.
"Where?" he asked.
"Over there," Ron pointed to a slender, mocha-skinned woman with long black hair who was sitting across from Godric Gryffindor at the banquet table.
Hermione's mouth became a large 'o'. "Do you think it's Rowena Ravenclaw? Godric did say that Merlin taught her, too."
"Are you serious? Rowena Ravenclaw?" Ron asked, his eyes wide and brimming with excitement.
"Well, I suppose we could go ask…" Hermione suggested timidly, blushing a bit at the idea of talking to Godric Gryffindor for a second time.
"Ask? Hermione, have you gone mad? You just want to go up and ask if she's Rowena Ravenclaw, the bloody founder of our school?" Ron asked in disbelief.
"One of the founders," Harry corrected.
Hermione folded her arms across her chest, her face red. "Well, they are real people, you know. I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate us following them around and spying on them just to find out who they are," she said, annoyed.
Ron scowled. "Well, I'm sure you're just itching to go talk to Godric again," he snapped.
Harry sighed. Honestly, he thought, could they go for just one day without bickering?
Hermione blushed furiously. "And what's that to you, Ron?"
Ron clenched his fist. "Why should I—"
"Oh, dear, I don't want to seem rude, but I do wish you'd stop arguing, it frightens me so," a high, flute-like voice shuddered.
The speaker was a young woman with thick, curly, corn-colored hair and bright blue eyes that, at the moment, seemed beseeching. Her tight dress indicated that she'd gone on one too many visits to Camelot's kitchens.
Ron gave her a scathing look. "Who're you?" he snarled. The woman brightened up considerably, despite Ron's angry tone, and held out her pudgy hand. Ron gazed down at it, disgusted. The young woman took no notice of this, and her hand returned to her side, her enthusiasm not dampened in the least.
"Oh, I am sorry, I do tend to forget my manners; I'm Helga Hufflepuff," she said cheerfully, smiling.
Ron's eyes widened.
"Hufflepuff, did you say?" Hermione asked.
Helga looked politely puzzled. "Yes, Hufflepuff…"
Harry coughed. "Er…well…I'm Harry P~"
"~ Potter," she chorused with him, smiling. She turned to Ron and Hermione. "Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger! Oh yes, yes, we know all about you," she said, giddy as a schoolboy. "Merlin was talking about you just this morning! Oh, what a wonderful coincidence!"
Harry stared, uncertain on what to say.
"Though I must say," she said, giving them shrewd looks, "you are quite a bit younger than I expected you to be."
Harry felt another tinge of annoyance.
Helga, however, took no notice and continued along in a cheery voice, "Godric was telling me earlier this afternoon about how you have arrived from the land of Hogwarts!" Her voice dropped down to a low, excited whisper. "And I must say, the way Godric put it, your Hogwarts sounds absolutely wonderful."
Harry gulped. He was beginning to regret telling Godric that they came from Hogwarts.
Helga gave them a pitying look, misreading the uncomfortable expressions on their faces. "Do you miss it?"
"Um…a little," Hermione squeaked.
Helga nodded sympathetically. "Oh, dear, don't fret…we are not natives of this land, either, my fellow pupils and I." Helga began to stare at a large stone pillar behind Ron, smiling in a vague sort of way, as though she were reminiscing. She sighed and shrugged a bit, as if to shake herself out of it, and smiled kindly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Well, I must find Merlin now, I've had an absolutely wonderful idea. It has been magnificent meeting you, the conquerors!" She clapped her hands together in utter delight and hurried off in the opposite direction to find Merlin.
Ron stared after her, still in a state of shock. "That was Helga Hufflepuff?"
"Oh, you've met Helga, then?" came a voice from behind Harry.
The three of them turned to see Godric and the black-haired woman standing there. Godric smiled.
"She may prattle on about trivial things, but she's actually quite brilliant, beneath all of that," he said, reading Ron's shocked expression correctly.
"Rather careless, too," the woman muttered to herself.
Harry glanced at the woman, noticing that her pale gray eyes seemed blurry and distant.
Godric laughed. "That was a bit harsh, Rowena ~ you know Helga means for the best."
The woman smiled, but didn't look at Godric. "Be that as it may, Godric, I'm always having to feed her Venomous Tentaculas for her…"
The corners of Godric's mouth dropped into a frown, and he said, much more serious, "Rowena, you do know that ~"
"~ oh, I know perfectly well that I'm not supposed to, Godric, but you know perfectly well that I despise being treated like a child," she interrupted, annoyed. She turned her unfocused stare to the pillar behind Ron, who fidgeted nervously. Her face seemed anxious.
"They didn't leave, did they, Godric? I did so want to talk to them."
And then Harry knew: Rowena was blind.
A/N: That's all for now, folks. I'm changing the ENTIRE ending, yep, yep. Expect the next chapter up in one to one and a half weeks, depending on how fast I write it. Hee hee. Thankies to the people who reviewed! I LOVE YOU! In a platonic way, of course…no…wait…come back…*sigh* I lose more reviewers that way…
toodles,
Ron Weasley's Cutie
