A/N: OH MY, MORE THAN 1000 REVIEWS!!!! THANK YOU, PEOPLE!!!!
jennaration: I'm glad you liked that part with Percy! You wanted me to say in Hungarian that Lily was not the last ingredient Voldemort needed. Okay, here it goes: "Lily nem az utolsó hozzávaló, amire Voldemortnak szüksége van." Okay, I said it (I might have lied, but you wanted me to say it!)
Alexander Pheonix: the Dursleys starting to feel bad about what they did to Harry? No, why would they?????? I'll try to read your fic as soon as I have some time.
Nikkianna: you asked how Ron and Hermione would continue their relationship is she was teaching at Hogwarts. Well, easily… you'll see :-)
em_1701_e: by the time you'll be back in a month, the story will be finished.
Basilisk: I'm NOT saying Ginny is going to die while saving Lily.
IloveLinkinPark222: so you want longer chapters, huh? This one is pretty long.
Amen: how can he still feel pain if he doesn't have the scar? You'll find out soon!
Alexander Slytherin: listen – this is fanfiction.net, and NOT a chat-forum called "The Harry Potter movie sucks". If you want to talk about it, go somewhere else, I'm sure you can find lots of topics for those who hated the movie. I liked it – seen it twice. Anyway, it is quite understandable why the movie-makers left out so many things – had they not, the film would have been 6 hours long. Things simply NEEDED to be left out. I also found the name list a bit ridiculous, and there were other things I didn't like. But I still think it's a cool movie. You advised me to: "…watch the show, compare the book." I have, long ago. I still love the film and going to watch it again and again...
Torikar: Harry won't stick out that much in India – the Moon Run is an international race, with lots of Europeans and North-Americans who are also pale. You asked who Fleur was with – in chapter 6 I mentioned that she had married Bill.
LilBit: the same for you as for Amen.
LisaQT3: you'll be surprised, but I DID have intentions of making people laugh. I'm sometimes a bit of a clown, you know… one of my acquaintances once told me that she was the Drama Queen. I thought: "if you are the Drama Queen, then I'm the Comedy Princess." Why do I think James looked old? Well, he looked at least 35, while he couldn't be older than 25 when he died. Oh, so you have finished your exams? I envy you so much! Mines started last week and will end only at the end of January.
Zenon Lee: how could Voldie strike at the Burrow? Um, I won't tell that – it's irrelevant. He could strike with thirty death-eaters, for example. It won't be described in the fic. You said that everyone would know he is Harry Potter for the lightning scar would let the cat out of the bag. Oh, no, no, no! Harry's scar had disappeared back in chapter 13! (Not completely, just in a way, but no one can see it, so they can't recognise him. Had they been able to see his scar, he would have been recognised back in Egypt or something. Oh well, just read this chapter and you'll get to know things.)
Shaun Wilson: no, I didn't know that in America fairy meant gay. I only knew that in British English it meant "A small imaginary creature with magic powers" – Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English. About the possible sequel: I simply can't think of a dark lord even more dangerous than Voldemort. There are fic in which Slytherin comes back, but I won't copy them. No, no clones! This is NOT Star Wars!
HP Blonde Crazy Chick: Congratulations! You are my 1000th reviewer! About the movie: my fave characters in the film were Ron and Hagrid. In the books my favourites are Harry, Dumbledore and Draco, but in the film Ron and Hagrid were the best. Yeah, Oliver was really hot!
mosum: realistic? REALLY???? I never thought! Thanks!
Padme: there were lots of things that bothered me about the movie, but I still love it! The critics can go the hell, I don't care for them!
PepsiAngel: read my answer to Torikar.
Julietta: I'm not telling you anything about Ginny's eyes… not yet. Ravin isn't that bad… he just wants money… he won't stand in anyone's way, so don't worry. You'll find out about the last ingredient in chapters 30 and 31.
Anigurl88: I'm afraid I didn't understand "chicken butt." Sorry. I don't think we have an expression like that here in Hungary.
Lyny: what did you mean by "I'm starting to create my own fanfic for your fanfic"??? You mean you try to continue it in thought? I also do that to other people's fics, lol.
CartersGotBack and Hobbit Feet: thank you for saying that my fic is the best. I'm truly honoured.
DarkFaery: I'm happy that you decided to read my fic after you found the summary slightly crap and tacky. You wrote: "I can't believe you managed to give the HP characters sex lives without making the story fluffy, crude of corny." Wow, thanks that was the highest compliment I could get, because it was EXACTLY what I wanted: romantic, but not too romantic. Glad to hear I succeeded. Yes, the story ends in 6 or 7 chapters – and everything will be tied up, I promise. Totally everything. (with only one or two smaller things being left open, so I can write a sequel). You weren't that much off the mark, but all what you wrote was a bit too simple… I'm not making it so simple for Harry and the gang.
Maddie Star: I actually have written something original when I was 17 – even sent it to a publisher – naive me! It was kind of a sci-fi-fantasy-humor story about a Russian astronaut, a self-respecting spaceship, a crazy young witch (I hadn't read HP back then), and a lost prince. It was really funny, but as I look back… it sucked. Way too childish. About Harry's name… um, you seem to have the Sight!!!
CrazyCow: read what I wrote to Maddie Star. You also have the Sight – are you related to Trelawney?
Moony Lover: no, neither of your guesses were correct.
Mandi: I used to upload the next chapters on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but nowadays I don't do it that regularly – holidays are coming, I don't know when people have time to read.
Meatball Head: oh no, the centaurs never told Ginny would find Harry. The centaurs referred to something else. You convinced me – I'm going to write a sequel (can't wait to start it, but nowadays my exams are giving me a lot to do, and don't have time to write.) Whaaat???? Lily having Harry's scar? Oh, no way!
Okay, before starting to read this chapter, you have to know that the Moon Run is based on a dream I had back in May. I still clearly remember: it was 5 a.m. when I woke up and remembered the most incredible dream I had ever had – I couldn't even go back to sleep, just lay there with open eyes and started planning how to insert that dream into the story I had just started to write. So when you read the Run, remember that it was Agi's dream.
Enjoy!
Chapter 29
The Moon Run
"Wow, Hermione, this was the longest jump I've ever accomplished!" Ron yelled. "Calcutta! Oh my, I never though I'd ever get here… not on Dad's salary, that is…"
"Wonderful place, for sure." the girl looked around at a huge and colourful marketplace. There were witches and wizards everywhere, offering hookahs, small models of the Taj Mahal, all kinds of textiles: silk, cashmere woven with gold; singing elephants, and – of course – all kinds of broomsticks.
"Look! A real Rocket 3000!" Ron cried with glee. "I'd give half my leg if I could own one of these!"
"500 galleons each." Hermione replied. "You'll never have that much money in your whole life."
Ron nodded, resigned.
"Serpent-charmers!" the girl pointed at a bunch of wizened wizards playing the flute. "And fakirs!"
"A wonder that Beautiful Bill isn't here." Ron murmured. "Just wait a bit, and his ghost might turn up."
Hermione didn't react upon his sarcasm. "Thanks to Beautiful Bill I know everything about India. About Shiva, and Kali, and every type of curses."
"Spare me, Herm." the boy sighed. "Don't start lecturing me about Beautiful Bill, will ya?"
"I should have left you at home!" she snapped. "I could as well have brought Percy with me! At least he'd appreciate my knowledge on this exotic culture."
"Maybe he would…" Ron's mouth tucked into a smirk. "But he's impotent, Hermione."
The girl turned red.
"I'm NOT." he added.
"Not in the least." she blushed even more. "Hey, come on, let's find our hotel."
"I have a map." Ron reached into his satchel and pulled out a map of the wizard Calcutta. "Here we are, at Market Bagira." he pointed at a small spot on the unfolded paper. "The hotel, the Sneaky Cauldron is about 700 metres away, right behind the Suttee Crescent."
"My, what a likeable name!" Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Well, at least our rooms are booked in forward."
"Rooms?" Ron grinned, looking at their tickets for the Run. "Here stands one room, Herm. Only one…"
"Wipe that smirk off your face!"
* * * * *
The last rays of the setting sun broke through the window, fondling Hermione's face. She opened her eyes, blinked, and stretched her limbs. She couldn't believe how long they'd overslept.
"Admit that you are happy that you haven't brought Percy instead of me." Ron reached out to curl one of the locks around his fingers.
She couldn't help laughing. "Oh, yes, I admit it, Ron. I do."
"Glad to hear." he bent down to kiss her.
"Um… Roooooooooon…" she tried to get free from his embrace. "Let me go!"
"Why, my sweet chocolate mousse?" he snuggled his nose into her neck.
"Because we are going to miss the race if we don't get up immediately." she reminded him.
"Why do you always have to be such a spoilsport?" Ron groaned. "I'd rather stay here with you forever…" he reached out to stroke her thigh, but she was quicker and jumped out of the bed.
"Time to get up!" she yelled, hastily putting on her clothes. "While you get ready, I'll go down and get programs."
In front of the stadium, a several hundred metres long queue was waiting to get in.
Ron stifled a yawn. "My, Herm, what took you so long?"
"You can't imagine how difficult it was to get free copies of these." she joined him in the queue. They both peered into the programs. "England has sent Donald McFlurry." she stated.
"Not a bad broomstick-rider, but I know a lot of people better than him." Ron commented. "The real aces are the German Udo Schnellchen and the Italian Maledetto Borgia."
"I know everything about the Borgia family." Hermione said. "They were the greatest poison makers in whole Europe."
Ron shrugged and continued reading. "…Dimitrij Gribov from Russia… Lumiere Souffle from France… Aladdin ben Ibn from Saudi-Arabia… Apollo Aphroditus from Greece… Winnetou Wigwam from the U.S.A. Um, strange that the Americans are sending an Indian… Lightning from India…" he turned to Hermione, frowning. "Lightning? What kind of name is that?"
"Must be a new guy." Hermione replied. "I heard that the player of India died a couple of months ago. Fell off his broom. They needed a substitute, I guess."
"Sandokan was a cool broomstick-rider. No one could live up to his standard. This Lightning, or who will suck."
"Maybe. We'll see." she shrugged, giving their tickets to the usher.
"Third row." the usher instructed them. They climbed up to their seats and sat down.
"I feel a bit like at the Quidditch World Cup four years ago." Ron said. "But not even that was an event of such magnitude. 300.000 wizards and witches! This race hasn't been held in the past 232 years."
"And you wanted to stay in bed and miss all these." Hermione reminded him.
"I was just kidding, sweetheart. There won't be another chance in my whole life to watch the Moon Run, while I can have sex with you anytime."
"Anytime?" she crossed her arms. "Are you expecting me to be always this weak?
"Exactly." he nodded, grinning.
"You are wrong, then. In September I'll start teaching at Hogwarts, and you'll either be working in Hogsmeade, or stay at the Burrow. You won't have a chance to seduce me as often as you would like to."
"I guess I'll manage it somehow." Ron smirked. "Look! Isn't that Cornelius Fudge over there?"
"Are you crazy? What could that git be doing here?"
"The same as we. Watch the race."
Hermione lifted her omnioculars to her eyes. "No, it's not Fudge. This guy looks more intelligent."
"It isn't hard to look more intelligent than him." Ron remarked. "Look! A bunch of Bedouin sorcerers! And there – isn't it a Chinese mandarin?"
"Oh, David Copperfield!" Hermione yelled.
"Where?" the boy started raking the crowd through his omnioculars.
"There! Shame that he had broken up with Claudia Schiffer! They looked so good together!"
"Claudia? Who's that?" Ron asked.
"A famous photo-model. Kind of a Muggle Fleur Delacour."
Ron blushed a bit. He still vividly remembered his infatuation with the most charming Tri-Wizard champion. Back then he wouldn't have guessed that Fleur would be his sister-in-law, neither did he suspect what terrible a cook she was.
He still remembered how humiliated he felt when Fleur turned him down after asking her to be his partner to the Yule-ball… he remembered her kiss, too, when he and Harry helped Gabrielle out of the lake.
It was nice to brood over these memories.
When he finally looked up, he realised that the sky was almost dark. It had to be, though, because the Moon Run was not only a race of broomsticks – it was something special, and extremely expensive, held in night.
As soon as she got to know that she'd have a chance to watch the Run, Hermione buried herself into books, searching for data about it.
"I've heard a lot about the Run, but there are stuff I'm not sure about." Ron turned to her.
"What?"
"Well, I know that the competitors have to race in this small – Quidditch-stadium-sized – model of the Solar System, but… why exactly is it called Moon Run?"
"Ah, that's easy." Hermione replied. "The racers have to dodge the comets, asteroids and planets while they fly. The size of the planets are… let's see… Mercury is 5 inches in diameter, Venus is 6 inches, Earth 7 inches, Mars 6 inches, Jupiter 90 inches, Saturn 80, Uranus 70 inches, Neptune 60 and Pluto 3 inches." she cast a smug glance at Ron, waiting for his approval.
He only wrinkled his nose. "So many superfluous data… is your head a Muggle computer or what?… Oh, well, I know the size of the planets but I still don't know why the Run is called Moon Run."
"Well, the racers have to complete 9 rounds in the stadium. At the end of the final round, the competitor who catches the Moon (one inch in diameter), wins the race. It's so simple."
"Aha." he nodded, a bit confused.
"Did you know," she continued, delighted to have an opportunity to show her knowledge, "that at the Moon Run the death rate is by 80% higher than during the Quidditch World Cups, and by 20% higher than in the Tri-Wizard Tournaments of the old ages? The mini Solar System is rotating with the speed of 1 metre/sec, the planets move by 2 m/sec, and the Moon - that circles Earth – with a speed of 10 m/sec. During the latest Moon Run - held exactly 232 years ago – 5 competitors died, 37 were seriously and 21 lightly injured. One of the victims collided with Jupiter, another got smashed by Uranus and Neptune. There was a guy who happened to fly into the thickest asteroid field, and the asteroids broke his broom, and he fell off. A witch, called Halley Bopp, was burnt by a comet, and someone suffocated from star-dust."
Ron wrinkled his nose. "You've really prepared."
"Of course I have." she answered with her most insufferable know-it-all face.
"Then could you explain how we are going to see the competitors? It's dark, you know."
"Ah, that's quite simple." she replied. "Some illuminating-charms will be cast on all of them, so they'll look fluorescent."
"I see." Ron nodded. "Oh, look! They're starting!"
It was already ten o'clock, the sky pitch-black, though the stars weren't visible because of the lights of the magical lamps and projectors.
Suddenly all lights went out and an – up till now – invisible race ground appeared in front of the spectators' eyes: planets and meteorites reflecting the artificial sun's rays, shimmering comets coursing among the planets, and a small, nimble Moon orbiting Earth in the mini Solar System.
"Wonderful!" Hermione yelled, enraptured.
"How is it possible that the sun is shining, but not blinding us?" Ron wondered.
"It's simple magic." she replied.
"Simple?" he looked astonished. "That's the most advanced magic I've ever seen!"
"Shhhh!" she hushed him, as the commentator began to speak with a voice magnified by the Sonorus charm.
"Ladies and gentle-wizards! It is a great pleasure for me to be able to open the 20th Moon Run, the race that hasn't been held for more than 230 years. It is an even greater honour that India has been chosen to host the Run. Our country has never had a chance to arrange a race of such importance. The latest race held here was the Quiddtich World Cup of 1555. As you all know, the reason why the Moon Run hasn't been held for two centuries, is that the last one ended with 5 lethal cases, and 58 injuries out of the 70 competitors. I can assure you now, that India has made all precautions to prevent lethal accidents. And now, enough of my blabbering… let us get to know tonight's competitors, who have come from 67 countries!"
The crowd exploded into a thunderous applause.
"First, the champion of Argentina: Juan Pablo Jose Armando Fernando Altamirano del Castillo! He is followed by the Brazil Gumercindo Heriberto!" as the racers swooped into the stadium, the spectators cheered and flourished flags.
"… the German Udo Schnellchen, Laszlo Szélltoló from Hungary right behind him…" the speaker kept enumerating the names, "… followed by the Indian champion, Lightning, there comes Maledetto Borgia from Italy…"
As the Indian competitor flew into the racing ground, Ron almost dropped his omnioculars.
"I can't believe it!" he cried.
"What?" Hermione turned to him.
"Look in your omnioculars!" the boy shouted.
Hermione lifted the small object to her eyes, inspecting the Jamaican racer. "Now what?" she frowned.
Ron gripped her neck and turned her into the Indian champion's direction.
"LOOK – AT – LIGHTNING!" he shouted into her left ear.
Hermione obeyed, having no idea what could be so interesting about the Indian substitute racer. As she caught a glimpse of 'Lightning', she froze, as if she had been stricken by the Full Body Bind curse. "Impossible…" she mumbled. "Absolutely impossible!"
"But it's… it's Harry, isn't it?" Ron waited for her reassurance.
"Either he, or an unknown twin of his." she replied, her voice shaking. But of course she knew that Harry couldn't have had a sibling. It was him.
She finally nodded. "It's Harry."
Ron suddenly turned red with fury, not hearing the speaker announce Ulu Bulu from Uganda and Zazu Zulu from Zimbabwe. "What the hell is he doing here????"
"Racing…" she shrugged.
"RACING???" the boy cried. "While my sister is nursing his baby alone at home? He was here making joyrides on a Rocket 3000 while Ginny almost died giving birth to his child? And I once called this bastard my best friend!!! For Voldemort's sake, I should have killed him with the stabbing curse back in November!"
Hermione gaped. "Ron, you have said THE NAME!!!"
The boy blinked. "Have I? I didn't notice… Never mind. I'll kill him as soon as the Run ends… or let's just hope that he gets flattened by Saturn!"
"But Ron!" the girl hushed him, "We don't know what happened to him… he might have had a good reason to flee and come here."
"Good reason, huh?" he fumed.
"Listen, Ron, if he survives the Run, we'll talk to him and give him a chance to explain everything." Hermione suggested.
"Always the rational." Ron growled, and turned his attention back to the race ground, where all the competitors were already hovering before the starting line, waiting for the start signal.
Hermione, trembling with excitement, lifted her omnioculars to her eyes, not taking her glance off the racer of India. Her heart was pounding aloud, but she still could hear Ron muttering:
"Fall down… break your neck…!"
The speaker now made a flick with his wand, silencing the audience.
All 300.000 spectators fell silent, only the croaking of a toad could be heard.
Everyone was waiting for the signal, holding their breaths. The commentator looked around, furtively smiling - his face was magically illuminated in the darkness.
The crowd was still waiting, more and more excited – and more and more impatient.
"He is doing this deliberately, isn't he?" Ron pointed at the commentator.
"Shhh!" she replied, still ogling 'Lightning'.
The speaker seemed to be enjoying the spectators' nervousness. When he saw that everyone was on tenter-hooks, he suddenly waved his hand, ejecting green sparks from it.
The racers rocketed away from the starting line, the crowd burst out yelling, some of them even jumped up from their seats.
The Cambodian racer was the first to fall out of the run – and off his broomstick – after a collision with Mars (that wasn't bright that night).
"And the field is reaching Uranus, the French champion on the lead…" the speaker's voice resounded. "Very nice flying, Monsieur Souffle… but wait… the Swedish Nils Holgersson comes forward – oh my, that boy can fly both ganders and broomsticks! The Greek Apollo Aphroditus is gaining on them, to the ladies' greatest happiness…" he remarked with a wink. "Ouch! Poor Peng Ching Chun! That must have hurt! The mediwizards are already taking care of him. Well, well, Pluto might be small, but hits like a bludger!"
Hermione didn't listen to the commentator – the only racer she was interested in, was the 'Indian' one.
Ron had finally stopped wishing bad-luck to 'Lightning' – or at least he didn't do it aloud.
There was an abrupt flare of light – Hale Bopp hit the Mongolian racer.
"The first round is completed, only eight more to go…" the speaker carried on. "The leaders are Souffle, Aphroditus and Holgersson, but Szélltoló is gaining on them… well, these Hungarians have to learn to fly quickly if they want to escape their Horntail dragons! LOOK! The new champion of India is taking over the Canadian Jack Ottawa and the British Donald McFlurry! Wow, that boy is really a lightning! No wonder that the coaches have kept his capabilities a secret during the past two months… Oh my, the Slovak Zelma Wzdensky and the Japanese Yin Tien are duelling in the asteroid field between Mars and Jupiter! FAULT!!! No wands may be used during the Run!… And the referee is already blowing his whistle, instructing the two ladies to leave the race ground…"
The disappointed Ms. Wzdensky and the hissing Yin Tien left the pitch, the latter sending a Furunculus curse on the former, after they got off their brooms. Ms. Tien was rewarded by a jelly-leg jinx in exchange.
"Hans Jürgen Schönnkugelaugen from Switzerland is taking over the Turkish Jusuf Erdem, and the Spanish Jose Carlos Santiago. But no… Schönnkugelaugen's broom is malfunctioning… slowing down… Switzerland doesn't have any chance to win the run anymore! Oh well, Luz Maria, the racer of Peru – the most charming witch in the field, in my opinion, - is accelerating, swooping forward between Winnetou Wigwam from the U.S.A. and Geyser Freeze from Iceland. Oh, no!!! The champion of Tansania has just collided with the Danish and the Portugese competitors! Don't worry, ladies and gentleman, the mediwizards are on the way, and up till now no one has died!" the commentator carried on.
"And the field is reaching the end of the second round, and still 58 champions are in race! An exciting Run we are having, dear spectators!"
Neither the commentator, nor anyone else in the stadium knew who was the most excited about the outcome of the Run: Hermione. She still didn't divert her stare from 'Lightning', her heart beating aloud. "Ron, Ron, do you see Harry's face?"
Ron turned to her, frowning. "I'm not interested in his face."
"But you should be! Look! What can you see when the wind blows his locks from his forehead?"
Ron unwillingly lifted his omnioculars to his eyes. "Whad'ya…" he started, then gasped in surprise. "The scar is gone!!!" he breathed.
Hermione nodded. "I feared my eyes were wrong… but if you don't see it either…"
"How is this possible, Herm?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Dark magic, what else?"
"Do you think… that Harry's become an evil warlock?"
"Nay." she replied. "Well… hope not."
Meanwhile the racers finished the third round, four other champions fell out: the racers from Uruguay, Kuwait, the Philippines and Trinidad and Tobago.
The asteroids kept acting like the worst of bludgers, knocking the competitors of Ireland, Sierra Leone, New Zealand and Croatia off their broomsticks.
The Etiopian racer got scorched by the Halley comet, the Algerian's broomstick went berserk and ran into Neptune at the end of the fifth round.
"The Mexican Speedy Gonsales is gaining on the Korean racer… he has now reached Apollo Aphroditus and Lumiere Souffle, trying to take over… and he does it! Ladies and gentle-wizards, what a racer! What a race!… Now Gonsales, Lightning and Schnellchen are on the lead, competing head-on… but the Hungarian champion isn't a pushover, either – he is overtaking Souffle, reaching Schnellchen… now they are flying right beside each other… FAULT!!! Schnellchen tried to shove Gonsales off his broomstick! He is sent out – well, deserved it!"
The German supporters began to curse, shaking their fists at the Mexican spectators and at the referee. Some of the fans started sending curses at each other, and one of the German sorcerers sent a hurling hex on Speedy Gonsales' broom, that went out of control, finally banging against Mercury.
The referee blew his whistle.
"Listen, all German and Mexican supporters! Either stay put or leave the grandstands at once! Don't make the Police-Wizard Enforcement throw you out!"
The German and Mexican supporters kept hissing and growling, but put their wands back into the pocket of their robes.
"Acting like kids!" Hermione remarked disapprovingly. "Like a thousand Malfoys!"
Ron nodded, turning his attention back to the events at the race ground. The seventh round was finished, eleven people fell out again.
The French and the Greek competitors were flying on the lead, the racers of Burundi and Thailand bringing up the rear.
"Souffle is performing an amazing sprint, closely followed by Aphroditus, Szélltoló and Lightning! Only two more rounds, dear spectators… what an excitement! Aphroditus is putting on speed, Souffle is trying to overtake, but it seems that the Greek racer's advantage is too great... The champion of Hungary is overtaking Souffle… watch out for that… Moon! Oh, my, oh my, the Moon has hit Szélltoló in the chest, knocking the wind out of him… poor guy, he should have avoided the Moon until next round!… Szélltoló out, Lightning gaining on the two leaders…"
"Go, Harry, go!" Hermione shouted, jumping up from her seat.
Ron pulled her back. "Herm, we are supposed to be rooting for McFlurry! Harry, for the time being, is playing for India!"
"Who the hell cares?" she retorted. "C'mon, Harry, show 'em! You're the best!"
Ron rolled his eyes, being sure that Harry couldn't hear anything from the roar of the crowd.
"One more round only!" the speaker howled with his magically enhanced voice. "Still 27 champions in race, and now comes the most exciting part of the Run: the racers reaching Earth in the ninth round may catch the Moon, and win the Run! The most possible winners are Souffle, Lightning and Aprhoditus… look! The Moon has come into sight again, all racers are putting on a spurt, Souffle overtaking Aphroditus, Aphroditus overtaking Souffle, Lightning outrunning them both…"
"That's it, Harry!" Hermione yelped with glee.
Even Ron was crossing his fingers, his mouth moving, forming unheard words – this time they weren't ill-luck wishes.
At that very moment the Greek competitor's mouth also started to move – murmuring mysterious words – his right hand stretched out into Lightning's direction.
Harry's Rocket 3000 suddenly rocketed upwards, as if he was to fly directly to the real Moon, disappearing into the dark sky above.
"That bastard!" Ron yelled with clenched fists. "He was hexing Harry!"
"I saw it!" Hermione replied, her face crimson with fury.
The referee blew his whistle with a small delay, preventing Aphroditus from catching the tiny Moon.
"FAULT! Mr. Aphroditus, please, immediately leave the race ground!"
The Greek racer's handsome face contorted into the expression of a man just turning into a werewolf.
"Souffle goes for the Moon… six metres… five… four… Whoa!"
The Indian champion's Rocket 3000 burst into sight again, swooping through the gap between Venus and Earth, crossing the course of Souffle's broom in a breathtaking dive.
As he pulled out of the dive with a sudden vertical hairpin bend – performed only two feet above the ground -, he was already holding the small, greyish Moon in his hand.
"HE DID IT!" Hermione threw herself on Ron's neck, tears of happiness and relief coursing down on her cheeks.
"Yes, he did." Ron smiled, peering over her shoulder, following Harry with his stare. "He did it."
As Harry got off his broom, he got surrounded by the local supporters at once. They lifted him on their shoulders, carrying him up onto a high dais, where the Minister of Magic of India shook his hand (with tear-soaked face) and placed a medal around his neck.
The crowd burst into applause – Ron and Hermione's hand got also numb with clapping.
"Come, we've got to talk to him!" Ron jumped up.
"Are you out of your mind?" she frowned. "His tent, or whatever he is staying in, will be overcrowded for several hours. You know – people asking for autographs, bringing flowers and bombs…"
"Bombs???" Ron gaped.
"Well, almost… They are curses in envelopes, but function as Muggle bombs." she said matter-of-factly. "I presume at least the Greek and the French fans will try to smuggle some 'bombs' into his tent – hidden in congratulating cards or the like." she saw Ron's astounded expression. "Hey, don't worry… sending curses and bottles of wine or champagne with some poison in them has always been a tradition in the Moon Run. Harry is well protected from these – and has some common sense not to open those letters or drink those brews."
Though somewhat insecurely, Ron nodded.
It was already past nine in the morning when the enthusiastic admirers disappeared, and Harry was left alone in his tent. He wanted to get some sleep, since he hadn't slept for about 24 hours.
The camp was still silent, everyone returned to their respective tents to rest a bit after the previous night's excitements.
"How are we gonna get to him?" Hermione worried. "Two guards are watching his sleep."
Her boyfriend smirked, pulling out something silvery from his rucksack.
"You've got the invisibility cloak!" she rejoiced.
"I thought it might come in handy." he replied. "And of course I wanted to take care of it for Harry."
She gave him a smile, indicating how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness.
They covered themselves with the cloak, approaching the two guards. When they were only a couple of feet away from them, they raised their wands and whispered Stupefy!
The guards collapsed to the ground.
Ron entered the tent, closely followed by Hermione.
In the tent some candles were still lit, the new Moon Run Champion was sitting on a cot, gazing at the golden medal in his hands. It was glittering, reflecting the candlelight. Its smooth surface mirrored the boy's face.
He let out a sigh.
He had just given autographs to at least 900 people, received innumerable bouquets of exotic flowers, even indecent proposals from a dozen of witches… he WAS the champion – the best broomstick-rider on Earth… However, he didn't feel happy – although Ravin, before the run, had told him that he was the illegitimate son of a maharajah who only had daughters from his wife, the maharani. According to Ravin, (who happened to "recognise" him at the first sight back in Egypt), Harry was cursed and sent far away from India by the maharani who didn't want him to inherit the throne. Given Harry's jet-black hair, he actually could have been half-Indian.
Knowing the "truth" didn't make Harry happier. Not in the least.
He had a large part of his life missing – it was not admirers he needed, but true friends – it was not proposals he wanted, but the love of a single person whom he couldn't remember, but knew existed.
The golden medal in his hand shimmered, mirroring his tired-looking green eyes… and two forms behind his back.
He hopped up, grabbing his wand, turning around.
"Stop!" he yelled.
The two forms – a boy and a girl of his age – held up their hands.
"It's okay… we haven't come to hurt you, Harry!" the girl said.
"Yeah, don't worry, I have decided not to throttle you – yet." the boy added. "Not that you wouldn't deserve it…"
Harry frowned. Ravin had told him that winners of the Moon Run used to be kidnapped once in a while. Harry suspected that the boy and the girl came to stun and kidnap him. "Who are you?" he demanded, pointing his wand at the visitors.
Ron grinned. "Very funny, pal. C'mon, enough of playing, let's go home. Ginny's waiting for you."
"Who?" Harry blinked. "I don't know you. Leave me alone!"
"Harry… we know how famous you've become as 'Lightning', but it's no excuse for abandoning your beloved ones, or escaping your responsibilities!" the girl declared with a very serious face.
"What – the – hell – are – you – talking – about?" the new champion burst out. "Get out of my tent!"
"Not until you've explained why you left my sister!" the redheaded boy crossed his arms.
"I don't even know you sister!"
"No? Then who the hell impregnated her, huh?"
"Don't know, couldn't be me… I'm not even British!" Harry retorted.
"Not British???" the other boy's eyes glinted with fury. "Then what are you? Japanese?" He stepped closer, risking that Harry might curse him. "I thought you were my very best friend – one of the few people whom I could trust my life with, but you, you screwed it up! After you knocked up my sister, you swore to marry her, but you left to get even more famous instead! The fame and glory that you had had before, weren't enough, huh? You wanted more – wanted to parade before huge, cheering crowds! You gave up Ginny's love for this… this whole… crap!" he poked the befuddled Harry's chest with his index finger. "Everyone thought you were dead, or hexed, because the owls couldn't find you! We even feared that you might have been captured by You-Know-Who, and you didn't care to give a sign of life to assure us that you hadn't kicked the bucket! You didn't care to send a fucking owl to ask how Ginny was doing! It's okay if you didn't care for Hermione and me, your best friends, but that you weren't interested in Ginny and your child is simply unacceptable and disgusting!"
"Ron…" the girl cut in.
"I'm sorry, but…" Harry began, but the other boy didn't let him finish.
"SORRY???" he gave out a hysteric laugh. "You're sorry? For You-Know-Who's sake, Harry, is that all you can say? That you are sorry?" he took another step forward, so that his nose was almost touching Harry's. "Well, you should be sorry! While you were here, having fun and building a career, my sister almost died giving birth to your daughter! And you dare say that you don't know her?"
"YES!" Harry yelled – only to be spat in the eye by the redheaded boy.
He showed his attacker away, wiping his face, and raised his wand to stupefy him, but the other boy was quicker and implemented the impedimenta curse on him.
Harry was thrown off his feet. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted from the ground, but the attacker jumped aside, and without thinking, cried: "Crucio!"
Harry was hit by the most terrible spasms, feeling his whole body being torn apart, as though thousands of spears had been stabbed into him, along with a dozen of whips lashing his defenceless body.
"NOOOOO!" the girl's voice shrieked.
Harry was too much in pain to see her grab her companion's wand-holding hand, forcing him to break the connection between the wand and Harry's writhing body.
"Are you crazy, Ron?" she yelled with a livid face. "You'll be sent into Azkaban for this!"
The red-haired boy lowered his wand, panting. "Don't… care… he deserved it."
Harry, lying on the floor, slowly opened his eyes. The pain was gone – so was the mist that had been fogging his mind for eight months. As though the mist had been blown away by a sudden gust of wind – or if a veil had been lifted from his memories… inexplicably, he REMEMBERED.
He sat up, looking into his friend's eyes.
"Ron… Hermione…" he was on the verge of tears.
Hermione saw the changed expression on his face.
Ron was still gasping for breath, but he also perceived that something had changed – first of all, Harry's scar became visible again. But there was something else, too.
"Harry…" the girl crouched down next to him. "Are you all right?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I remember everything again."
"You… you what?" Ron dropped to his knees.
"I had amnesia… didn't remember a thing from my past."
"When… when did you lose your memory?" the girl asked with a trembling voice.
"Right after I received the letter from Dumbledore that I could go back the Hogwarts, because the journalists were gone." Harry replied.
"So that was what Malfoy's brew contained: obliviator potion." Hermione pursed her lips. "Why… why did none of the teachers tell us that Harry had lost his memories?"
"Maybe they didn't know." Ron shrugged. "Geez, Harry… I thought…" his voice faltered, and he suddenly pulled his friend into a firm hug. "Can you forgive me? Can you ever forgive me?"
Harry couldn't help but smile – and knew that this was the first true, heart-felt smile he'd given someone since November.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione also flung her arms around his neck.
The three friends embraced, Hermione sobbing, the boys awkwardly wiping their tears, grinning.
"Thanks, Ron." Harry said.
"Thanks? For what?"
"For breaking the curse."
"Huh?" Ron made an extremely stupid face.
"Well, I was under the effect of a potion combined with a curse…" Harry replied. "Its effect could only be lifted by my best friend implementing the Cruciatus curse on me… You have no idea how desperate I was… I gave up hope… never thought I'd meet my best friend again, let alone that he'd curse me. Thanks, pal."
"You're welcome." Ron grinned.
Finally they stood up, their bright smiles in sharp contrast with tears brimming their eyes.
Harry was the first to speak. "So… I… have a daughter?"
"Yup." Ron nodded. "A beautiful little witch, called Lily."
"Lily?" Harry was truly touched. "Oh, my, I'd like to see her and Ginny right now!"
"Then get your things, and wait for us until we return with ours." Hermione said. "Won't take longer than five minutes."
"You're gonna apparate?" Harry asked. "I've also learnt that."
"Have you? How? Where? You were missing from the school!" Hermione looked confused.
"Well… I learned it from an Egyptian guy, when I was in Cairo with Gilderoy." Harry slapped his forehead, and started to chortle. "Gilderoy… I remember him!"
Ron and Hermione didn't understand what could be so funny about Lockhart.
"By the way," Hermione interjected, "Why did you think you weren't British?"
"Oh, that…" Harry grinned. "Ravin fed a story to me about me being the son of a maharajah… Totally crazy, that guy. He'd do anything for money, just to keep me here to race for India."
Suddenly an owl flew into the tent, carrying a message from the Weasley family.
"An express-owl!" Hermione noticed. "It must have cost…"
"Half the Taj Mahal." Harry remembered Ravin's words. "Why did your parents send you such an expensive owl?"
"Must be an extremely important message." the girl guessed.
Ron unfolded the telegram and let his friends peer into it.
RON COME HOME STOP GINNY AND LILY KIDNAPPED STOP PRESUMABLY BY YKW STOP DAD STOP
"Kidnapped?" Harry blanched.
"YKW?" Ron frowned.
"You-Know-Who." Hermione breathed.
"Beware the sunrise at Stonehenge." Harry whispered, his voice distant, his stare rigid.
"What?"
"What time is it?" Harry asked hastily.
"Uh, ten o' clock." Hermione looked at her watch that she had adjusted to India's time zone.
"Sunrise… the Sun is going to rise in Britain in a couple of minutes!" Harry mumbled with a face as white as a sheet.
"And?" Ron shrugged, having no idea why it made Harry so jittery.
"Something terrible is about to happen at sunrise… Ginny and Lily kidnapped… the serpent charmer… he was talking about this…"
"Huh?"
"We've got to go to Stonehenge. Immediately." Harry declared. He didn't know how he associated the crazy old wizard's prediction with the kidnapping of his lover and child, and with the Dark Lord, but he simply knew that there was a connection.
His friends didn't oppose. Their belongings were totally forgotten.
"Apparate to Stonehenge on the count of three." Harry instructed. "One… two… three…"
A/N2: so the run was my dream (my enthusiasm for astronomy reflected in it) – but you won't believe what my latest dream was!!!! I dreamt about Voldemort wearing a shower-hat (I don't what it's called in English, but you wear it when you shower so that you hair won't get wet). So, there he was, wearing this hat and having a shower in my toilet! Not in the bathroom but in the loo! Voldemort!!! (Don't worry, I'm not going to write a fic about this dream…lol)