Chapter Seven

"SPIES?!" John roared. With this the crowd exploded with sounds of anger and fright.

"Get them out of here!"

"Who are they?"

"Kill them! Kill Them!"

"Are you sure?"

"No way!"

"I want a pancake!"

"Ahhhhhhh!"

"But, how?"

"That is a good question, Elizabeth," the old man noted, referring towards a middle twenties aged girl with brown hair that had asked the latest question. "How, indeed?"

It took several tense moments before John realized the old man was talking to him.

"H-how-how wh-what?" He asked, his voice raising a notch with the last word.

"How did you find us?" The old man explained stubbornly.

"It wasn't anything special… Me and my house elf were just wandering through those woods back there and-"

"You and your house elf?" The old man repeated skeptically. He turned back to the eager crowd. "Quite suspicious behavior, is it not? Wandering through muggle territory with a house elf by your side?"

The crowd murmured agreements.

"No, no! You don't understand!" John protested. " I'm just trying to get to Hogsmeade! I'm not a spy! I was being held prisoner in the S.M.B.'s sea fortress-"

John was interrupted again.

"Aha!" The crowd gasped as the old man yelled this. "He knows about the S.M.B.'s! How could HE know about the S.M.B.'s, if he's not ONE of them!?"

John glared at him. "I know about the S.M.B.'s because I'm fighting them. I have been for months now! And before that I was held prisoner by them! And before that my late best friend stole their potion-"

"Aha! He knows about-"

"Would you shut up?!" John screamed. "I don't know how you know about the S.M.B.'s, but I can assure you we're probably on the same side! So let me go! Now!"

John grabbed Frito and tried to break through the crowd, but the old man was much quicker than he looked, and before John knew what was happening, he was on the floor with cords wrapped around his body. Frito was in the same position.

Then John saw the old man lean over him.
"Say goodnight. Spy…" There was a flash of light-

-and John woke up in a dimly lit tent. It was smaller than the other ones he had been in, but maybe that was just because there were three people inside. Himself, Frito, and someone else was by the sink running water on something. The person turned around and John recognized her as the girl named Elizabeth from earlier.

"Finally. It's about time you woke up." She kneeled next to John and began dabbing at a cut on his forehead with cloth. "George gave you quite a beating after he knocked you out. You've been unconscious for two days now…"

She continued gently rubbing the sore. Even in the dim light and in his current state, John couldn't help noticing that Elizabeth was very pretty.

"So George was that old man's name?" John growled. "As soon as I can stand up, I'm going to beat his head in."

John made very violent strangling gestures with his hands, before wincing. Elizabeth had hit him hard on his cut with the wrung up cloth.

"Don't talk about George like that!" She said. She sounded angry, but she went back to gently cleaning the cut some more. "Sure, he may be a little over bearing. And selfish. Maybe even a little mad or psychotic. But he's good at heart, really." She finished tending to the gash, and got up. "I think…"

John watched her toss the cloth into the sink and head out of the tent. He stood up quickly and raced after her.

"Wait.." He grabbed her arm to stop her. "Where am I?"
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, and stared at him silently.

"I can't tell you," she finally answered. "Just in case you are what every one thinks you are. And even if you aren't what everyone thinks you are, I can't tell you because I still wouldn't know what you are. Because you're certainly not one of us, are you? So, because you are not one us, and I don't know what you are, and because you are or maybe you aren't what everyone thinks you are, I can't tell you where you are. Do you see?"

"Ohh…" John sighed, slinking back into the tent. "I guess I understand…"

Frito didn't regain consciousness until a few hours later, and when he did, he was just as eager to find out where they where as John had been.

"So, what-t, if she didn't want-t-t to tell you?' Frito had exclaimed when John had told him what happened. "You should have grabbed her, and held her hostage in here until she gave you all the answers you needed."

John gave him a doubtful look. "Frito, I don't think I could have done that. After all, I think she's quite close to that old guy they call their leader. He probably would have had us killed as soon as he noticed she was gone."

Frito kicked the side of the tent. "It-t was worth a shot-t…"

The next few weeks past by slowly without much event. Elizabeth brought in a small breakfast around noon, and then an even smaller dinner around seven at night every day.

It was only at these times that John and Frito would get any interaction with the outside world. Every time she came in John and Frito would be able to get snippets of information about what was happening in the camp.

George was still holding strong to his belief that the pair were spies, and most of the settlement's residents strongly agreed with him. They even learned from her that a rumor was being spread. One that said, a base of action was going to be taken against the spies within the next week.

And happen it did that following Wednesday.

John had now grown accustomed to being woken at eight in the morning, so his body was taken by surprise when he found himself being roughly shaken awake before the sun had even began to rise.

"John! John! Wake up!" He heard a female voice say.
John managed to peel his eyes open slightly. "Elizabeth?"
He murmured. "Wassyoudoin?"

"John! Just hurry and get up and dressed…" She answered, by way of reply.

"But…but…" He let out a long yawn. "…What time is it?"

Her eyes darted towards the flimsy exit of the tent, before she answered. "It's early. Now hurry up." She dashed out of the tent and John heard a roar of voices erupt from outside. John gulped. It didn't sound good.

John quickly scrambled out of bed and pulled one of his only two pairs of clothes on. He looked around and saw Frito was sitting in a corner of the tent, terrified.

"D-did you hear what-t they were yell-yell-yelling?" Frito sputtered. John shook his head, but listened closely to outside the tent. He couldn't tell much from the noise except that the crowd was quieting down.

"What where they saying?" John asked.

Frito gulped, sweating, and whispered.

"Burn…burn…burn…"