Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow- Ch.11
*Hey, ya'll! Here's Ch. 11! The dueling contest begins in this chapter! We will meet many new characters. Our 10-year-old brother, Kevin, is helping us write these stories. As you know, we put us (Cassy & Kammi) into our stories, so Kevin will be in them, too. BTW, Cassy is no longer writing these stories. It will just be Kammi and a little help from Kevin, and Cassy is going to be the editor of our chapters, since she no longer has the time to write them, but she will still put her input in them. Well, we hope you enjoy this chapter! Tchao!
~DISCLAIMER~ All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the new ones that we have made up.
A/N: There are some cruel remarks about Americans in this chapter, but no cussing or anything like that. You Americans, don't get offended, because remember, we're Americans, too! So if what you read offends you, an American wrote it, so please don't flame me on that, okay? The remarks are important to the plot later on. Thanks for your understanding. ~Kammi
Harry woke up late on Halloween morning. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Something important was happening today, but he couldn't remember what.
"Oh yeah," he murmured, yawning widely. "Today we leave for the dueling contest."
Harry looked over at Ron's bed, but it was empty. Harry grinned. Ron was probably already down at breakfast. He, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been very excited when Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the dueling contest, had announced that each pair of duelers should pick a back- up, or a second, in case a dueler fell ill, or got injured, in any possible way. Harry and Hermione had immediately chose Ron. Harry was glad that Ron didn't have to stay behind while him and Hermione went to France for a month. The contest was to take place in France, and Harry looked forward to seeing the pupils from Beaxbatons Academy, who were in the contest as well. The Durmstrang students, since their new headmaster was, as Viktor Krum had written to Hermione, an idiot, were not going to compete in the contest, but their were to be as many as twenty other wizarding schools to compete against, so Harry was not at all worried about the competition. He just hoped that the contest would be as normal as possible, and that something like what had happened last year with the Triwizard Tournament, would not happen again.
Harry, now quite ecstatic, quickly got out of his four-poster bed and pulled on his robes. He realized that he must have slept in extremely late, because the common room was as deserted as the boy fifth years' room upstairs. Harry walked down to the Great Hall, and was happy to see that it was still full of chattering Hogwarts students. Harry took a seat across from Ron at the Gryffindor table. Next to Ron, Hermione was nervously twisting a lock of her brown hair around her finger.
"I don't think I can do this," she said. "Harry, we just haven't practiced enough."
"You'll do fine, Hermione," Ron waved his hand impatiently at her as he helped himself to a large portion of bacon. "Just remember, if you get hurt, you have me to take your place."
"And that's supposed to calm me down?" Hermione said shrilly. Ron glared at her. "No, I mean me getting hurt. That just makes me even more nervous."
"Everyone competing in the dueling contest, please come over here. We'll be loading up the Knight Bus shortly with your luggage," Professor McGonagall called out to the Great Hall with the magical megaphone that Lee Jordan used to do the commentary for all of the Quidditch matches. The word "Quidditch" made Harry sigh. The matches were postponed until all of the duelers got back from the contest, but by now, Harry missed the sport greatly.
"Well, we better go," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly as she headed toward McGonagall, Ron and Harry following her.
"What teachers are coming?" Ron inquired.
"Well, Professor McGonagall, naturally," Hermione said matter-of- factly. "Also, Professors Nemo, Flitwick, and Snape. I think Hagrid might be, but I'm not sure…."
"Snape?" Harry and Ron both cried out in disgust.
"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know why, but maybe he just wants to watch."
"Yeah, right," Ron muttered.
"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure," Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully.
McGonagall led all of the duelers outside and Harry gasped. There were six huge Knight Buses lined up in front of Hogwarts.
"How many students are coming?" Ron said, looking at the buses in amazement.
"About one-third of the school," Hermione replied. "Just look behind you."
Harry and Ron turned and saw what definitely looked like one-third of the school jumbled in behind them.
"Okay, here are your bus assignments," Professor Nemo called out over the noise. "Hufflepuff first years through fourth years in bus number one…"
Harry looked around as Professor Nemo rambled on. He saw Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley in the crowd of older Hufflepuffs and younger Ravenclaws that were getting on bus number two. On bus number three Harry caught sight of Cho and quickly looked away.
"And last, Gryffindor fifth years and above on bus number six," Professor Nemo finished and walked over and said something to Professor McGonagall, who nodded.
"That's us," Hermione said briskly, as she led Harry and Ron over to the last bus.
Harry held back a groan as Stan Shunpike hopped out of his bus and smiled at Harry.
"Neville! 'Choo doin' 'ere for?" he called out. "Your name's not on my list!"
"Uh," Harry stuttered.
"Oh, that's right," Stan chuckled. "You're really 'Arry Potter, aren't you?"
"Er, yeah," Harry murmured, as he hurried past Stan to get on the bus.
"Neville! Why'd that bloke think you were Neville?" Ron asked, snorting with laughter.
"Long story," Harry said quickly. "I'll tell you later."
After saying a quick hello to Ernie Prang, the driver of Stan's bus, he, Ron, and Hermione grabbed three beds near the back of the bus.
The rest of the upperclass Gryffindors filed onto the bus quickly. Jason Nartowsky, the Head Boy, plopped his bag down on the empty bed next to Harry and smiled.
"I'm excited, aren't you, Harry?" he said. "I've never been to France."
"I have. But not to duel," added Jason's dueling partner, Samuel Virfect.
"I wonder where Ginny is," Ron said suddenly, looking around the bus.
"Ginny?" Harry inquired. "I didn't know that she was in the contest."
"She's not," Ron replied. "She's a back-up, like me."
"Well, the fourth year Gryffindors are on bus five, aren't they?" Hermione said, as she picked up her bag and started rummaging through it. Harry and Ron exchanged quizzical looks, but then groaned when Hermione pulled out her O.W.L. Helper, identical to the one she had given Harry for his birthday. Hermione beamed at them.
"Oh, don't feel bad about forgetting yours," she told them, misreading the looks on their faces. "I brought yours, too, because I knew you'd forget them." She tossed Harry and Ron their O.W.L. Helpers, and ordered them to study as she lay back on her bed and started to answer the small sphere's questions.
Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged, and they reluctantly started studying, too.
After everyone was settled on the bus, Stan hopped on and beamed at everyone.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he announced. "We'll be in France in moments. Look up 'ere." Stan pointed to a small air mask. "Not all of you know 'ow to do an Oxygen charm, so use these in case we crash, and they are located under your beds. If you 'ave a question, ask it now, just raise your 'and."
Stan looked around, and no one raised a even a finger. "Alright, Ern. Let 'er go."
The beds moved two feet forward as the Knight Bus lurched forward. There was the familiar bang, and then they were on the road.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione rode for awhile in silence, studying with their Owl Helpers as the other duelers chatted excitedly around them. As they entered Ireland, Harry looked out the window. They're was another loud pop, and Harry could tell by their surroundings that they were in an all wizard area. The Bus strolled along the rode for awhile, then screeched to a halt in front of a large building.
"What are we doing here?" a sixth year girl asked.
"We're picking up the students from Ireland, aren't we?" Stan called out, striding over to the double doors of the Bus and hopping out.
"Where will they fit?" Ron said in amazement to Harry, as the other Knight Buses pulled up alongside theirs.
Everyone pressed their faces to the glass windows to see what was going on. Stan walked up to the large building and knocked five times. The door suddenly opened and a tall woman with long, billowing red hair stepped out. She was stunningly beautiful. She and Stan exchanged some words, and the woman beckoned behind her, where several students appeared. Stan led the woman and the pupils to the courtyard where the buses were parked. Harry heard loud sounds, and then Ron nudged him.
"Harry…. open your window." Harry did so and he heard the woman speak.
"Stan, how delightful to travel in your magnificent vehicle," she said, in a strong Irish accent. Her words sounded phony to Harry.
"Who are the kids in there?" asked a red-headed girl, pointing at the Hogwarts students leaning their heads out of the buses. The girl's looks strongly resembled Ginny.
"Oh, these are the pupils from 'Ogwarts," Stan said, gesturing to the buses. He then turned back to the gorgeous woman. "Miss O' Faunian, do you have the list of how the students are going to be divided into the buses?"
"Oh, Stan! What kind of woman do you think I am?" Miss O' Faunian squealed, producing a piece of parchment from her silver, designer handbag. Just then, Professor McGonagall came out of Bus number 3, followed by Professors Nemo and Snape.
"Vivian Molly, how nice to see you," Professor McGonagall said smiling, as she shook Miss O' Faunian's hand. McGonagall's smile, Harry noticed, seemed to be fake, too.
"Oh, Minerva!" Miss O' Faunian gushed. "How good it is to see you again! But please! Just call me Vivian or Viv. My full name is too formal for old friends like us." She then turned to Snape. "Severus!" she cried bubbily. "Oh, it's been so long!" Snape looked back at her beadily, and Miss O' Faunian looked hastily away and looked at Professor Nemo.
"You don't know me," Professor Nemo explained. "But I'm Professor Q. Nemo. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I understand that you're Headmistress here?"
"Oh, yes!" Miss O' Faunian beamed. "But, what does the "Q" in you name stand for, dear?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Professor Nemo said grinning.
"But what shall I call you?" Miss O' Faunian said, looking absolutely distressed.
"Quie or just Nemo would be fine," she answered.
Miss O' Faunian turned to her students. "Everyone, split up into your pods. Your pod number is your bus number."
"But Professor O' Faunian," the Ginny-look-alike whined.
"No buts, dear," Miss O' Faunian shook back her lovely mane of hair and her students reluctantly split up into six groups and each one headed for a different bus.
"Some lady, that O' Faunian, eh?" Ron said to Harry. Harry just nodded.
"That girl looks remarkably like Ginny," Hermione remarked, pointing to the girl, who was getting on their bus.
"I noticed," Harry said faintly. The girl walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were and took a bed across from them. A couple of other people from her school joined her on their floor, but the rest went upstairs. Harry turned to look at the girl.
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, striding across the room and holding out her hand for the girl to shake.
"Mary Laughlin," the girl replied, taking Hermione's outstretched hand gratefully.
"These are my friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," Hermione turned to Harry and Ron.
"What?" Mary said in amazement. "No, really, Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? I'm honored," Mary smiled, taking Harry's hand and shaking it. She then turned to Ron and shook his hand, too.
"Might as well meet you too, huh?" Mary said cheerfully.
"Yeah," Ron muttered flatly. "Might as well."
"Hey!" Mary cried, suddenly excited, looking from Harry to Hermione. "Aren't you two…. You know." She smiled slyly. "I've been reading The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly and I just was wondering…."
"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.
"That hideous Skeeter reporter made up all those lies," Hermione added.
"Well, all right," Mary said, but she still looked suspicious.
All of them fell backwards onto their beds and the Bus suddenly popped back into the countryside. The four of them talked about the Dueling Contest for awhile until Stan suddenly called out to everyone.
"Okay, Everybody," he said. "We're going to pop now over the English Channel to France. If you would please sit on your beds and buckle your safety belts."
Harry heard many people groan, but they soon were all nestled safely into their beds under a horrendously tight safety belt. Harry heard the loud pop, and then he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Then, they landed on solid ground….hard. The other buses landed around them.
"Okay, unbuckle," Harry heard Stan yell. He gladly did, and started massaging his stomach. He realized that quite a few people were losing their lunches in small brown paper sacks, Mary among them. Hermione, looking green herself, walked over to Mary and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"We're 'ere!" Stan cried, as the Knight Bus stopped quickly. Harry peeked out the window and found himself in front of the largest building he had ever seen. It didn't look like a castle, but it looked way too big to be a house.
Everyone jostled around to grab their luggage and hurried to exit the bus. When the trio and Mary were on the nicely kept grass in front of the mansion, Ginny came staggering toward them.
"Ron, I feel sick," she moaned, leaning her head on her older brother's shoulder.
"Yeah, well don't throw-up on me," Ron said, looking down at his sister apprehensively. "Oh, by the way, meet Mary. She could be your long-lost twin." Ginny looked up groggily and stared at Mary, who was looking at Ginny with the exact same expression on her face. They both cracked up.
"I think you're right about us being twins, Ron," Ginny said, smiling at Mary.
A loud, beeping sound interrupted them. Hermione grinned sheepishly, and pulled out a small, gray, square object our of the pocket of her robes.
"What is that?" Ron cried, staring at it.
"It's a beeper," Hermione replied proudly.
"Wait, I thought those things couldn't work around magic," Harry protested.
"They can't," Hermione agreed. "But this one works through magic. It's brand new. Made by an inventor in Bulgaria. Viktor gave it to me. It's also a telephone. We can talk to each other."
Hermione pressed a button on her beeper, which stopped the beeping, and she then opened a small flap while everyone watched her, fascinated. She placed the phone up to her ear and grinned.
"Hello, Viktor," she said. She listened for a bit, then, noticing that everyone was still watching her, glared at them and turned around.
"Uh-huh….yeah. Yes, we're at a school in France….no, not Beauxbatons, they're coming here. I'm not sure what it's called, but I can find out." She paused for a bit. "Oh…oh, really? You are? That's so nice of you, Viktor. Yes, I'll find out right now."
And with that, Hermione sped off toward McGonagall, still talking into the small telephone.
Ron looked at Harry and made a face. "Now, where's she going?"
"I dunno," Harry shrugged.
"Viktor Krum…. he must really like Hermione, eh?" Ron said slowly.
"It's really none of our business, Ron," Harry replied, as nicely as he could.
"Let's go find out," Ron suggested, and he pulled Harry over to where Hermione and McGonagall stood, Mary and Ginny trailing curiously behind them.
"What is it again?" Hermione was saying to McGonagall.
"It's called 'Singarang', Miss Granger," McGonagall answered, then she excused herself and raced over to Professor Flitwick.
"What's Singarang?" Ron asked Hermione.
"This school…. They focus on the arts…. Just a second." Hermione turned away from them and started talking with Viktor again. Ron sighed.
"We'll never get a straight answer from her as long as he's on the phone," Ron muttered, glaring at Hermione's telephone. "Maybe we can get Snape over here; he'll take it away from her."
But before Ron could even look at Snape, Hermione snapped her phone shut and stuck it back into her pocket. She turned to her friends and grinned broadly.
"Viktor's coming," she said, beaming.
"What?" Ron shouted.
"Do you mean Viktor as in Viktor Krum?" Mary asked excitedly.
"The very same," Hermione began. "He felt bad about not being able to compete in the contest, so he's coming to watch. Isn't it wonderful?"
Ron looked as if Christmas had just been canceled.
"But…you…he…can't…." Ron choked out.
"Oh, Ron. I know you're worried about how he'll get here. Well, I talked with Professor McGonagall, and he's going to fly here on his broomstick with an invisibility cloak over him."
"From Bulgaria?" Ron cried in disbelief.
"He wanted to," Hermione shrugged.
"What's Singarang?" Ginny interrupted quickly. "I heard you earlier talking about Singarang."
"Oh, yes. That," Hermione said, pushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "This French school is called Singarang. Those are the two magical schools in France: Singarang and Beauxbatons. Singarang focus on the arts, though."
"The arts?" Mary asked, looking up at the school.
"Yes, the arts. You know, singing, painting, drawing…." Hermione trailed off.
"Oh," Harry said, confused.
"That singing sorceress, oh, I forget her first name, but her last is Warbeck. She graduated from this school." Hermione took in the shocked looks on their faces. She loved it when she surprised people with all of the information she knew.
"Cestelina Warbeck? Oh, I love her! She's so grand," Mary said dreamily. "Will she be here?"
"Perhaps," Hermione replied faintly, looking as though she was still thinking about Viktor.
"Laughlin Four!" Miss O'Faunian's shrill voice called out. "We must be going. Our rooms are ready!"
"Laughlin Four?" Ron asked in disbelief. "What's the four for?"
"It's my last name, and then my pod number," Mary shrugged. "That's what she identifies us all by." Mary grabbed her trunk and handbag and waved good-bye to the trio.
"Catch you around, twin," Mary winked at Ginny. Ginny smiled.
"Hogwarts students, follow me, please," Professor McGonagall strode briskly by them and motioned for all of the Hogwarts students to follow her. So, like a cattle herd, the students of Hogwarts School trudged behind their deputy headmistress into Singarang.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
Two days later, the day of the first Dueling competition, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Mary were seated around one of the round tables at Singarang, eating breakfast.
"Ready, Hermione?" Harry said between mouthfuls of bacon.
"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered. She looked extremely nervous, and she wasn't eating anything. "I'm ready, I think."
"Well, Herm," Ron said, swallowing. He whacked her on the shoulder. "If anything happens to you, I'm there to take your place."
"My hero," Hermione replied flatly, eyeing her shoulder warily. Mary snorted into her cereal.
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Hermione, you're the top student in Hogwarts, after all," Ginny said as she polished off the last of her sausages.
"Yeah," Harry added. Hermione sighed and stared at her untouched plate of pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and grits. She reluctantly took a small bite out of one of her pancakes, and then placed down her fork and looked up at Harry.
"Well, we'd best be off then," she announced, her voice a pitch higher than usual.
"Mm, okay," Harry shoved one last spoonful of grits in his mouth and pushed back his chair a bit too fast. It fell over, almost knocking a tall, blonde girl over.
"Sorry, so sorry," Harry said, but he couldn't help laughing.
"Whatever, loser" the girl glared at Harry and walked off. The five of them stared at the girl's retreating back, and then back at Harry.
"She's from America," he shrugged and joined them. They started to walk towards the courtyard, where McGonagall had told them all to go after breakfast.
"How do you know?" Ginny inquired.
"Her accent," Harry replied.
"Yes, clearly an American," Hermione agreed. "I've never met an American before; should be interesting. My goal is to meet someone from every single country represented in this tournament before we leave."
"Well, you've got Ireland covered," Mary smiled.
"That I do," Hermione replied back.
They had now reached the courtyard. Ginny and Mary went off to find the rest of their groups, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing in the middle of a bunch of bushes, feeling very foolish indeed.
"Oh, there's that dude who almost killed me," the trio heard a voice say. They turned and saw the tall girl Harry had hit with the chair at breakfast.
"Ah, he's a freak, no doubt about it" said the girl next to her. This one had long brown hair, and was a lot shorter than her friend. Both girls, Harry noticed, were extremely pretty.
"He's Harry Potter!" Ron yelled, pointing furiously at Harry.
"Harry Potter?" the tall girl repeated in disbelief. "Who the heck is that?"
"You don't who he is?" Hermione asked them, shocked.
"No, but I'm Chloe Rochelle, witch extraordinaire, have you heard of me?" the brown haired girl shot back sarcastically, rolling her eyes. The tall girl laughed.
"You know, come to think of it, we haven't heard of you either," Ron straightened his back and stared right at Chloe.
"How about me; I'm Eliza James?" the tall girl sighed impatiently.
"So," Chloe shoved Ron out of the way and walked right up to Harry. She put her hands on her hips and looked him over, "Harry Potter. Who are you, anyway? Why do you think we'd know who you are?"
"Everyone does," Ron retorted.
"Not technically, Ron," Hermione put in. "If these two really are from America, then they probably wouldn't know who You-Know-Who is. I mean, he really only stayed in Europe; he didn't head out to North America to terrorize them there, too. And if You-Know-Who wasn't a problem for them, then, of course, what Harry did wouldn't matter to them either." Hermione smiled, satisfied with herself for, once again, knowing the answers.
"I still don't know who exactly Harry is," Chloe began, grinning. "But as cute as he is, I'd like to." Harry blushed a deep crimson. Hermione furrowed her brow.
"Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, whom terrorized us for many long years, when he was just a year old," Hermione punched out each word proudly, as if she had actually been there and helped Harry do it. "He's famous."
"Not where we come from, I'm telling you," Eliza scoffed.
"And where is that exactly?" Ron asked daintily.
"Indiana," Chloe said, and at the same time, Eliza blurted out, "Michigan." They both looked at each other and laughed.
"I'm from Indiana, Fort Wayne, actually," Chloe stated, "and Eliza's from Lansing, Michigan. Both are in America."
"Hermione Granger; I'm a witch," Hermione said proudly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged bemused expressions.
"Well, I'm sure you are," Eliza said sarcastically. Hermione blushed. She didn't really understand the insult, but she was smart enough to have a pretty good idea.
"Well, well, well," said a cold voice from behind them. They all turned to see Snape standing there, sneering.
"I see the famous trio has met the judges already," Snape smiled, and stood behind Chloe and Eliza, happily watching the looks of terror upon Harry, Hermione, and Ron's faces.
"You two are the judges?" Ron cried out in horror.
"Two of the six," Chloe replied coolly. "We won the tournament for three years in a row. Last year was our third straight win, so they asked us to be judges instead of compete next year. We agreed."
"What year are you?" Harry asked, still shocked at the girls' identities.
"Year?" Eliza said, puzzled.
"They are in tenth grade, Mr. Potter, are the same age as you," Snape grinned.
"Wait, so that means you won your first tournament in your second year!" Hermione gasped.
"No, we were in seventh grade," Chloe retorted. She turned to Snape. "What is up with this year stuff?"
"Our grades, Miss Rochelle," Snape told her. "Now I best be going, and leave Potter and his friends to their thoughts, hmm?"
"Yeah, see you around, Sev," Chloe waved halfheartedly.
"Bye," Eliza added.
Snape smirked and walked off. The trio stared at the Chloe and Eliza in shock.
"You two are judges?" Harry yelped.
"And you're our age?" Hermione put in.
"Hey, how do you know Snape, anyway?" Ron put his hands on his hips.
"Well, to answer your question," Chloe began, nodding at Harry, "yes, we are judges. We will judge how well you perform. By the way, which one of you three is the alternate? I'm assuming you're all in the same group."
"I am," Ron said flatly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged looks.
"Not what we expected," Chloe said, as they looked over at Hermione, who just stared at the ground.
"Yes," Eliza said, keeping her strong gaze at Hermione, "we are your age exactly."
"And we know Mr. Snape," Chloe smiled at Ron, "because I am his niece."
"Snape has a niece?" Ron repeated in disbelief.
"Yes," Chloe replied. She seemed surprised that we would think that the idea of Snape having a niece was so absurd. "Well, he had a sister, didn't he? I'm his sister's daughter, which would make him my uncle. My mom, his sister, moves to the States after she married my dad, so that's why I live in America."
"That's nice," Hermione said dryly.
"Hey!" Chloe suddenly yelled, waving to someone behind Harry. "Hey, come over here!"
Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy heading toward them.
"Chloe," Draco said, smiling, "how are you doing? It's been a long time."
"Yeah, it has," Chloe hugged Draco. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in horror.
Draco saw the looks on their faces and smirked.
"Why are you hanging around with these losers, huh?" Draco stared at Harry in disgust.
"Harry Potter," Eliza glanced at Harry, looking suspicious, "says he's famous."
"Well, that he is," Draco drawled. "But he didn't do anything. He was only a baby when he defeated the Dark Lord. All Potter here did was sit there and coo." Eliza burst out laughing.
"Whatever," Chloe shrugged.
"Ladies, let's leave these idiots. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Draco linked his arms through Eliza's and Chloe's, and they walked off, chatting away.
"He thinks he's such a ladies' man," Ron glared at Draco's retreating back.
"He is. Did you see they way Eliza and Chloe looked at him?" Harry muttered.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Ron murmured. He turned to Hermione. "So, Hermione, you've met some Americans. Not very friendly, are they?"
Hermione's head was low, and her face was still beet red. "They're horrid," she uttered finally.
Harry and Ron stifled their laughter.
"Potter, Granger, Weasley, you're up!" came McGonagall's voice from across the courtyard.
"Oh, no," Hermione murmured.
"This is it," Harry moaned.
"I'm ready to fill in, you two, don't worry," Ron added loudly. He was the only one of the three who looked confident.
The trio walked slowly across the field of grass to McGonagall, who was waiting with their first competitors of the Dueling Contest.
~*~*Ha ha, cliffhanger! Don't worry, all you Harry Potter diehards! Chapter Twelve will be out soon, I promise, a lot sooner than it took for this chapter to come out. (In fact, I've already started it!) If you are confused about anything in this chapter, and believe me, you have a good reason to be, e-mail me at sparklebabe11@msn.com or write it in the review! Thanks, all! Tchao! (BTW, please visit my HP website, entitled *Watson World*. Click on the address below to go to it. Thanks!)
http://www.geocities.com/pinkangelhalo11/index.html
*Hey, ya'll! Here's Ch. 11! The dueling contest begins in this chapter! We will meet many new characters. Our 10-year-old brother, Kevin, is helping us write these stories. As you know, we put us (Cassy & Kammi) into our stories, so Kevin will be in them, too. BTW, Cassy is no longer writing these stories. It will just be Kammi and a little help from Kevin, and Cassy is going to be the editor of our chapters, since she no longer has the time to write them, but she will still put her input in them. Well, we hope you enjoy this chapter! Tchao!
~DISCLAIMER~ All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the new ones that we have made up.
A/N: There are some cruel remarks about Americans in this chapter, but no cussing or anything like that. You Americans, don't get offended, because remember, we're Americans, too! So if what you read offends you, an American wrote it, so please don't flame me on that, okay? The remarks are important to the plot later on. Thanks for your understanding. ~Kammi
Harry woke up late on Halloween morning. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Something important was happening today, but he couldn't remember what.
"Oh yeah," he murmured, yawning widely. "Today we leave for the dueling contest."
Harry looked over at Ron's bed, but it was empty. Harry grinned. Ron was probably already down at breakfast. He, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been very excited when Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the dueling contest, had announced that each pair of duelers should pick a back- up, or a second, in case a dueler fell ill, or got injured, in any possible way. Harry and Hermione had immediately chose Ron. Harry was glad that Ron didn't have to stay behind while him and Hermione went to France for a month. The contest was to take place in France, and Harry looked forward to seeing the pupils from Beaxbatons Academy, who were in the contest as well. The Durmstrang students, since their new headmaster was, as Viktor Krum had written to Hermione, an idiot, were not going to compete in the contest, but their were to be as many as twenty other wizarding schools to compete against, so Harry was not at all worried about the competition. He just hoped that the contest would be as normal as possible, and that something like what had happened last year with the Triwizard Tournament, would not happen again.
Harry, now quite ecstatic, quickly got out of his four-poster bed and pulled on his robes. He realized that he must have slept in extremely late, because the common room was as deserted as the boy fifth years' room upstairs. Harry walked down to the Great Hall, and was happy to see that it was still full of chattering Hogwarts students. Harry took a seat across from Ron at the Gryffindor table. Next to Ron, Hermione was nervously twisting a lock of her brown hair around her finger.
"I don't think I can do this," she said. "Harry, we just haven't practiced enough."
"You'll do fine, Hermione," Ron waved his hand impatiently at her as he helped himself to a large portion of bacon. "Just remember, if you get hurt, you have me to take your place."
"And that's supposed to calm me down?" Hermione said shrilly. Ron glared at her. "No, I mean me getting hurt. That just makes me even more nervous."
"Everyone competing in the dueling contest, please come over here. We'll be loading up the Knight Bus shortly with your luggage," Professor McGonagall called out to the Great Hall with the magical megaphone that Lee Jordan used to do the commentary for all of the Quidditch matches. The word "Quidditch" made Harry sigh. The matches were postponed until all of the duelers got back from the contest, but by now, Harry missed the sport greatly.
"Well, we better go," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly as she headed toward McGonagall, Ron and Harry following her.
"What teachers are coming?" Ron inquired.
"Well, Professor McGonagall, naturally," Hermione said matter-of- factly. "Also, Professors Nemo, Flitwick, and Snape. I think Hagrid might be, but I'm not sure…."
"Snape?" Harry and Ron both cried out in disgust.
"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know why, but maybe he just wants to watch."
"Yeah, right," Ron muttered.
"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure," Hermione said, frowning thoughtfully.
McGonagall led all of the duelers outside and Harry gasped. There were six huge Knight Buses lined up in front of Hogwarts.
"How many students are coming?" Ron said, looking at the buses in amazement.
"About one-third of the school," Hermione replied. "Just look behind you."
Harry and Ron turned and saw what definitely looked like one-third of the school jumbled in behind them.
"Okay, here are your bus assignments," Professor Nemo called out over the noise. "Hufflepuff first years through fourth years in bus number one…"
Harry looked around as Professor Nemo rambled on. He saw Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley in the crowd of older Hufflepuffs and younger Ravenclaws that were getting on bus number two. On bus number three Harry caught sight of Cho and quickly looked away.
"And last, Gryffindor fifth years and above on bus number six," Professor Nemo finished and walked over and said something to Professor McGonagall, who nodded.
"That's us," Hermione said briskly, as she led Harry and Ron over to the last bus.
Harry held back a groan as Stan Shunpike hopped out of his bus and smiled at Harry.
"Neville! 'Choo doin' 'ere for?" he called out. "Your name's not on my list!"
"Uh," Harry stuttered.
"Oh, that's right," Stan chuckled. "You're really 'Arry Potter, aren't you?"
"Er, yeah," Harry murmured, as he hurried past Stan to get on the bus.
"Neville! Why'd that bloke think you were Neville?" Ron asked, snorting with laughter.
"Long story," Harry said quickly. "I'll tell you later."
After saying a quick hello to Ernie Prang, the driver of Stan's bus, he, Ron, and Hermione grabbed three beds near the back of the bus.
The rest of the upperclass Gryffindors filed onto the bus quickly. Jason Nartowsky, the Head Boy, plopped his bag down on the empty bed next to Harry and smiled.
"I'm excited, aren't you, Harry?" he said. "I've never been to France."
"I have. But not to duel," added Jason's dueling partner, Samuel Virfect.
"I wonder where Ginny is," Ron said suddenly, looking around the bus.
"Ginny?" Harry inquired. "I didn't know that she was in the contest."
"She's not," Ron replied. "She's a back-up, like me."
"Well, the fourth year Gryffindors are on bus five, aren't they?" Hermione said, as she picked up her bag and started rummaging through it. Harry and Ron exchanged quizzical looks, but then groaned when Hermione pulled out her O.W.L. Helper, identical to the one she had given Harry for his birthday. Hermione beamed at them.
"Oh, don't feel bad about forgetting yours," she told them, misreading the looks on their faces. "I brought yours, too, because I knew you'd forget them." She tossed Harry and Ron their O.W.L. Helpers, and ordered them to study as she lay back on her bed and started to answer the small sphere's questions.
Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged, and they reluctantly started studying, too.
After everyone was settled on the bus, Stan hopped on and beamed at everyone.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he announced. "We'll be in France in moments. Look up 'ere." Stan pointed to a small air mask. "Not all of you know 'ow to do an Oxygen charm, so use these in case we crash, and they are located under your beds. If you 'ave a question, ask it now, just raise your 'and."
Stan looked around, and no one raised a even a finger. "Alright, Ern. Let 'er go."
The beds moved two feet forward as the Knight Bus lurched forward. There was the familiar bang, and then they were on the road.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione rode for awhile in silence, studying with their Owl Helpers as the other duelers chatted excitedly around them. As they entered Ireland, Harry looked out the window. They're was another loud pop, and Harry could tell by their surroundings that they were in an all wizard area. The Bus strolled along the rode for awhile, then screeched to a halt in front of a large building.
"What are we doing here?" a sixth year girl asked.
"We're picking up the students from Ireland, aren't we?" Stan called out, striding over to the double doors of the Bus and hopping out.
"Where will they fit?" Ron said in amazement to Harry, as the other Knight Buses pulled up alongside theirs.
Everyone pressed their faces to the glass windows to see what was going on. Stan walked up to the large building and knocked five times. The door suddenly opened and a tall woman with long, billowing red hair stepped out. She was stunningly beautiful. She and Stan exchanged some words, and the woman beckoned behind her, where several students appeared. Stan led the woman and the pupils to the courtyard where the buses were parked. Harry heard loud sounds, and then Ron nudged him.
"Harry…. open your window." Harry did so and he heard the woman speak.
"Stan, how delightful to travel in your magnificent vehicle," she said, in a strong Irish accent. Her words sounded phony to Harry.
"Who are the kids in there?" asked a red-headed girl, pointing at the Hogwarts students leaning their heads out of the buses. The girl's looks strongly resembled Ginny.
"Oh, these are the pupils from 'Ogwarts," Stan said, gesturing to the buses. He then turned back to the gorgeous woman. "Miss O' Faunian, do you have the list of how the students are going to be divided into the buses?"
"Oh, Stan! What kind of woman do you think I am?" Miss O' Faunian squealed, producing a piece of parchment from her silver, designer handbag. Just then, Professor McGonagall came out of Bus number 3, followed by Professors Nemo and Snape.
"Vivian Molly, how nice to see you," Professor McGonagall said smiling, as she shook Miss O' Faunian's hand. McGonagall's smile, Harry noticed, seemed to be fake, too.
"Oh, Minerva!" Miss O' Faunian gushed. "How good it is to see you again! But please! Just call me Vivian or Viv. My full name is too formal for old friends like us." She then turned to Snape. "Severus!" she cried bubbily. "Oh, it's been so long!" Snape looked back at her beadily, and Miss O' Faunian looked hastily away and looked at Professor Nemo.
"You don't know me," Professor Nemo explained. "But I'm Professor Q. Nemo. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I understand that you're Headmistress here?"
"Oh, yes!" Miss O' Faunian beamed. "But, what does the "Q" in you name stand for, dear?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Professor Nemo said grinning.
"But what shall I call you?" Miss O' Faunian said, looking absolutely distressed.
"Quie or just Nemo would be fine," she answered.
Miss O' Faunian turned to her students. "Everyone, split up into your pods. Your pod number is your bus number."
"But Professor O' Faunian," the Ginny-look-alike whined.
"No buts, dear," Miss O' Faunian shook back her lovely mane of hair and her students reluctantly split up into six groups and each one headed for a different bus.
"Some lady, that O' Faunian, eh?" Ron said to Harry. Harry just nodded.
"That girl looks remarkably like Ginny," Hermione remarked, pointing to the girl, who was getting on their bus.
"I noticed," Harry said faintly. The girl walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were and took a bed across from them. A couple of other people from her school joined her on their floor, but the rest went upstairs. Harry turned to look at the girl.
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, striding across the room and holding out her hand for the girl to shake.
"Mary Laughlin," the girl replied, taking Hermione's outstretched hand gratefully.
"These are my friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," Hermione turned to Harry and Ron.
"What?" Mary said in amazement. "No, really, Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? I'm honored," Mary smiled, taking Harry's hand and shaking it. She then turned to Ron and shook his hand, too.
"Might as well meet you too, huh?" Mary said cheerfully.
"Yeah," Ron muttered flatly. "Might as well."
"Hey!" Mary cried, suddenly excited, looking from Harry to Hermione. "Aren't you two…. You know." She smiled slyly. "I've been reading The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly and I just was wondering…."
"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.
"That hideous Skeeter reporter made up all those lies," Hermione added.
"Well, all right," Mary said, but she still looked suspicious.
All of them fell backwards onto their beds and the Bus suddenly popped back into the countryside. The four of them talked about the Dueling Contest for awhile until Stan suddenly called out to everyone.
"Okay, Everybody," he said. "We're going to pop now over the English Channel to France. If you would please sit on your beds and buckle your safety belts."
Harry heard many people groan, but they soon were all nestled safely into their beds under a horrendously tight safety belt. Harry heard the loud pop, and then he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Then, they landed on solid ground….hard. The other buses landed around them.
"Okay, unbuckle," Harry heard Stan yell. He gladly did, and started massaging his stomach. He realized that quite a few people were losing their lunches in small brown paper sacks, Mary among them. Hermione, looking green herself, walked over to Mary and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"We're 'ere!" Stan cried, as the Knight Bus stopped quickly. Harry peeked out the window and found himself in front of the largest building he had ever seen. It didn't look like a castle, but it looked way too big to be a house.
Everyone jostled around to grab their luggage and hurried to exit the bus. When the trio and Mary were on the nicely kept grass in front of the mansion, Ginny came staggering toward them.
"Ron, I feel sick," she moaned, leaning her head on her older brother's shoulder.
"Yeah, well don't throw-up on me," Ron said, looking down at his sister apprehensively. "Oh, by the way, meet Mary. She could be your long-lost twin." Ginny looked up groggily and stared at Mary, who was looking at Ginny with the exact same expression on her face. They both cracked up.
"I think you're right about us being twins, Ron," Ginny said, smiling at Mary.
A loud, beeping sound interrupted them. Hermione grinned sheepishly, and pulled out a small, gray, square object our of the pocket of her robes.
"What is that?" Ron cried, staring at it.
"It's a beeper," Hermione replied proudly.
"Wait, I thought those things couldn't work around magic," Harry protested.
"They can't," Hermione agreed. "But this one works through magic. It's brand new. Made by an inventor in Bulgaria. Viktor gave it to me. It's also a telephone. We can talk to each other."
Hermione pressed a button on her beeper, which stopped the beeping, and she then opened a small flap while everyone watched her, fascinated. She placed the phone up to her ear and grinned.
"Hello, Viktor," she said. She listened for a bit, then, noticing that everyone was still watching her, glared at them and turned around.
"Uh-huh….yeah. Yes, we're at a school in France….no, not Beauxbatons, they're coming here. I'm not sure what it's called, but I can find out." She paused for a bit. "Oh…oh, really? You are? That's so nice of you, Viktor. Yes, I'll find out right now."
And with that, Hermione sped off toward McGonagall, still talking into the small telephone.
Ron looked at Harry and made a face. "Now, where's she going?"
"I dunno," Harry shrugged.
"Viktor Krum…. he must really like Hermione, eh?" Ron said slowly.
"It's really none of our business, Ron," Harry replied, as nicely as he could.
"Let's go find out," Ron suggested, and he pulled Harry over to where Hermione and McGonagall stood, Mary and Ginny trailing curiously behind them.
"What is it again?" Hermione was saying to McGonagall.
"It's called 'Singarang', Miss Granger," McGonagall answered, then she excused herself and raced over to Professor Flitwick.
"What's Singarang?" Ron asked Hermione.
"This school…. They focus on the arts…. Just a second." Hermione turned away from them and started talking with Viktor again. Ron sighed.
"We'll never get a straight answer from her as long as he's on the phone," Ron muttered, glaring at Hermione's telephone. "Maybe we can get Snape over here; he'll take it away from her."
But before Ron could even look at Snape, Hermione snapped her phone shut and stuck it back into her pocket. She turned to her friends and grinned broadly.
"Viktor's coming," she said, beaming.
"What?" Ron shouted.
"Do you mean Viktor as in Viktor Krum?" Mary asked excitedly.
"The very same," Hermione began. "He felt bad about not being able to compete in the contest, so he's coming to watch. Isn't it wonderful?"
Ron looked as if Christmas had just been canceled.
"But…you…he…can't…." Ron choked out.
"Oh, Ron. I know you're worried about how he'll get here. Well, I talked with Professor McGonagall, and he's going to fly here on his broomstick with an invisibility cloak over him."
"From Bulgaria?" Ron cried in disbelief.
"He wanted to," Hermione shrugged.
"What's Singarang?" Ginny interrupted quickly. "I heard you earlier talking about Singarang."
"Oh, yes. That," Hermione said, pushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "This French school is called Singarang. Those are the two magical schools in France: Singarang and Beauxbatons. Singarang focus on the arts, though."
"The arts?" Mary asked, looking up at the school.
"Yes, the arts. You know, singing, painting, drawing…." Hermione trailed off.
"Oh," Harry said, confused.
"That singing sorceress, oh, I forget her first name, but her last is Warbeck. She graduated from this school." Hermione took in the shocked looks on their faces. She loved it when she surprised people with all of the information she knew.
"Cestelina Warbeck? Oh, I love her! She's so grand," Mary said dreamily. "Will she be here?"
"Perhaps," Hermione replied faintly, looking as though she was still thinking about Viktor.
"Laughlin Four!" Miss O'Faunian's shrill voice called out. "We must be going. Our rooms are ready!"
"Laughlin Four?" Ron asked in disbelief. "What's the four for?"
"It's my last name, and then my pod number," Mary shrugged. "That's what she identifies us all by." Mary grabbed her trunk and handbag and waved good-bye to the trio.
"Catch you around, twin," Mary winked at Ginny. Ginny smiled.
"Hogwarts students, follow me, please," Professor McGonagall strode briskly by them and motioned for all of the Hogwarts students to follow her. So, like a cattle herd, the students of Hogwarts School trudged behind their deputy headmistress into Singarang.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
Two days later, the day of the first Dueling competition, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Mary were seated around one of the round tables at Singarang, eating breakfast.
"Ready, Hermione?" Harry said between mouthfuls of bacon.
"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered. She looked extremely nervous, and she wasn't eating anything. "I'm ready, I think."
"Well, Herm," Ron said, swallowing. He whacked her on the shoulder. "If anything happens to you, I'm there to take your place."
"My hero," Hermione replied flatly, eyeing her shoulder warily. Mary snorted into her cereal.
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Hermione, you're the top student in Hogwarts, after all," Ginny said as she polished off the last of her sausages.
"Yeah," Harry added. Hermione sighed and stared at her untouched plate of pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and grits. She reluctantly took a small bite out of one of her pancakes, and then placed down her fork and looked up at Harry.
"Well, we'd best be off then," she announced, her voice a pitch higher than usual.
"Mm, okay," Harry shoved one last spoonful of grits in his mouth and pushed back his chair a bit too fast. It fell over, almost knocking a tall, blonde girl over.
"Sorry, so sorry," Harry said, but he couldn't help laughing.
"Whatever, loser" the girl glared at Harry and walked off. The five of them stared at the girl's retreating back, and then back at Harry.
"She's from America," he shrugged and joined them. They started to walk towards the courtyard, where McGonagall had told them all to go after breakfast.
"How do you know?" Ginny inquired.
"Her accent," Harry replied.
"Yes, clearly an American," Hermione agreed. "I've never met an American before; should be interesting. My goal is to meet someone from every single country represented in this tournament before we leave."
"Well, you've got Ireland covered," Mary smiled.
"That I do," Hermione replied back.
They had now reached the courtyard. Ginny and Mary went off to find the rest of their groups, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing in the middle of a bunch of bushes, feeling very foolish indeed.
"Oh, there's that dude who almost killed me," the trio heard a voice say. They turned and saw the tall girl Harry had hit with the chair at breakfast.
"Ah, he's a freak, no doubt about it" said the girl next to her. This one had long brown hair, and was a lot shorter than her friend. Both girls, Harry noticed, were extremely pretty.
"He's Harry Potter!" Ron yelled, pointing furiously at Harry.
"Harry Potter?" the tall girl repeated in disbelief. "Who the heck is that?"
"You don't who he is?" Hermione asked them, shocked.
"No, but I'm Chloe Rochelle, witch extraordinaire, have you heard of me?" the brown haired girl shot back sarcastically, rolling her eyes. The tall girl laughed.
"You know, come to think of it, we haven't heard of you either," Ron straightened his back and stared right at Chloe.
"How about me; I'm Eliza James?" the tall girl sighed impatiently.
"So," Chloe shoved Ron out of the way and walked right up to Harry. She put her hands on her hips and looked him over, "Harry Potter. Who are you, anyway? Why do you think we'd know who you are?"
"Everyone does," Ron retorted.
"Not technically, Ron," Hermione put in. "If these two really are from America, then they probably wouldn't know who You-Know-Who is. I mean, he really only stayed in Europe; he didn't head out to North America to terrorize them there, too. And if You-Know-Who wasn't a problem for them, then, of course, what Harry did wouldn't matter to them either." Hermione smiled, satisfied with herself for, once again, knowing the answers.
"I still don't know who exactly Harry is," Chloe began, grinning. "But as cute as he is, I'd like to." Harry blushed a deep crimson. Hermione furrowed her brow.
"Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, whom terrorized us for many long years, when he was just a year old," Hermione punched out each word proudly, as if she had actually been there and helped Harry do it. "He's famous."
"Not where we come from, I'm telling you," Eliza scoffed.
"And where is that exactly?" Ron asked daintily.
"Indiana," Chloe said, and at the same time, Eliza blurted out, "Michigan." They both looked at each other and laughed.
"I'm from Indiana, Fort Wayne, actually," Chloe stated, "and Eliza's from Lansing, Michigan. Both are in America."
"Hermione Granger; I'm a witch," Hermione said proudly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged bemused expressions.
"Well, I'm sure you are," Eliza said sarcastically. Hermione blushed. She didn't really understand the insult, but she was smart enough to have a pretty good idea.
"Well, well, well," said a cold voice from behind them. They all turned to see Snape standing there, sneering.
"I see the famous trio has met the judges already," Snape smiled, and stood behind Chloe and Eliza, happily watching the looks of terror upon Harry, Hermione, and Ron's faces.
"You two are the judges?" Ron cried out in horror.
"Two of the six," Chloe replied coolly. "We won the tournament for three years in a row. Last year was our third straight win, so they asked us to be judges instead of compete next year. We agreed."
"What year are you?" Harry asked, still shocked at the girls' identities.
"Year?" Eliza said, puzzled.
"They are in tenth grade, Mr. Potter, are the same age as you," Snape grinned.
"Wait, so that means you won your first tournament in your second year!" Hermione gasped.
"No, we were in seventh grade," Chloe retorted. She turned to Snape. "What is up with this year stuff?"
"Our grades, Miss Rochelle," Snape told her. "Now I best be going, and leave Potter and his friends to their thoughts, hmm?"
"Yeah, see you around, Sev," Chloe waved halfheartedly.
"Bye," Eliza added.
Snape smirked and walked off. The trio stared at the Chloe and Eliza in shock.
"You two are judges?" Harry yelped.
"And you're our age?" Hermione put in.
"Hey, how do you know Snape, anyway?" Ron put his hands on his hips.
"Well, to answer your question," Chloe began, nodding at Harry, "yes, we are judges. We will judge how well you perform. By the way, which one of you three is the alternate? I'm assuming you're all in the same group."
"I am," Ron said flatly. Chloe and Eliza exchanged looks.
"Not what we expected," Chloe said, as they looked over at Hermione, who just stared at the ground.
"Yes," Eliza said, keeping her strong gaze at Hermione, "we are your age exactly."
"And we know Mr. Snape," Chloe smiled at Ron, "because I am his niece."
"Snape has a niece?" Ron repeated in disbelief.
"Yes," Chloe replied. She seemed surprised that we would think that the idea of Snape having a niece was so absurd. "Well, he had a sister, didn't he? I'm his sister's daughter, which would make him my uncle. My mom, his sister, moves to the States after she married my dad, so that's why I live in America."
"That's nice," Hermione said dryly.
"Hey!" Chloe suddenly yelled, waving to someone behind Harry. "Hey, come over here!"
Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy heading toward them.
"Chloe," Draco said, smiling, "how are you doing? It's been a long time."
"Yeah, it has," Chloe hugged Draco. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in horror.
Draco saw the looks on their faces and smirked.
"Why are you hanging around with these losers, huh?" Draco stared at Harry in disgust.
"Harry Potter," Eliza glanced at Harry, looking suspicious, "says he's famous."
"Well, that he is," Draco drawled. "But he didn't do anything. He was only a baby when he defeated the Dark Lord. All Potter here did was sit there and coo." Eliza burst out laughing.
"Whatever," Chloe shrugged.
"Ladies, let's leave these idiots. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Draco linked his arms through Eliza's and Chloe's, and they walked off, chatting away.
"He thinks he's such a ladies' man," Ron glared at Draco's retreating back.
"He is. Did you see they way Eliza and Chloe looked at him?" Harry muttered.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Ron murmured. He turned to Hermione. "So, Hermione, you've met some Americans. Not very friendly, are they?"
Hermione's head was low, and her face was still beet red. "They're horrid," she uttered finally.
Harry and Ron stifled their laughter.
"Potter, Granger, Weasley, you're up!" came McGonagall's voice from across the courtyard.
"Oh, no," Hermione murmured.
"This is it," Harry moaned.
"I'm ready to fill in, you two, don't worry," Ron added loudly. He was the only one of the three who looked confident.
The trio walked slowly across the field of grass to McGonagall, who was waiting with their first competitors of the Dueling Contest.
~*~*Ha ha, cliffhanger! Don't worry, all you Harry Potter diehards! Chapter Twelve will be out soon, I promise, a lot sooner than it took for this chapter to come out. (In fact, I've already started it!) If you are confused about anything in this chapter, and believe me, you have a good reason to be, e-mail me at sparklebabe11@msn.com or write it in the review! Thanks, all! Tchao! (BTW, please visit my HP website, entitled *Watson World*. Click on the address below to go to it. Thanks!)
http://www.geocities.com/pinkangelhalo11/index.html