A/N: And the authoress returns with yet another exciting chapter… And this time with no excuse. Of course, this chappie's been written for the last two months or so, I just haven't yet bothered to transpose it to the computer. If you really feel the urge to kill me, you can, but remember – then you won't learn what happens next!

Critizizors (1&2): I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. Sorry, I didn't exactly update soon. Anyway… Tell me, who is Critizizor #2?

Sgarecool: Uh… :)

Elf 771: I always thought it was melon. Or is it mellin? On that subject, I have a friend whose brother's name is Mellin – yeah, like the one in LOTR. They just call him Jim, though.

Laboburen: -dances along- (Why oh why don't they let us use asterisks? Argh!)

LottiRebel: Again… -uh…- :)


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Chapter 8: Brooms and the "Other Boy"
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"And you are absolutely sure of all of this?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely. I saw it with my own eyes." She stared at the two teenagers, then shook her head. "I still need a broom," she said.

"You'll need three," Hermione said firmly. "We're coming too." She glared at the elf belligerently.

Holly realized the she could not argue, neither should she. The two wizards would be a valuable asset in something like this. "So, then where do you plan to get them?"

"Uhm…"

"Hey, Hermione, it's Malfoy…" He pointed at a blonde teen in dark robes, grouped by two thug-like companions. But what really caught Holly's eye were the objects held in their hands.

"You know," Hermione breathed, "we could have something here." She turned to the others. "This is what we have to do…"


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Malfoy was having a good day. He had already one a couple bets, killed a few hapless rodents, and bought a brand new broom – three actually, for Crabbe and Goyle had gotten one too. There were certain advantages to being rich.

He was strolling around the back of the Leaky Cauldron, about to strike up a conversation, or about as much as a conversation as was possible with the two idiots that he called his friends (probably to start a new round of praise for the shiny new Firebolt 2000's) when he discovered a far better form of entertainment.

"Weasely! What are you doing, counting pennies?"

"You leave him alone!" Granger shouted, coming around in front of him defensively. "You don't always have to be so mean to him!"

"Imagine having to be defended by a girl, and a Mudblood at that. I would be embarrassed if I were you. Is Ronnie scared?" he mocked. "Is Ronnie going to… cry?"

"You shut up!" said Ron, who really did look like he was going to cry.

Malfoy just smirked. "What if I told you I was going to kick your miserable little ass?" he asked.

"Magic's not allowed during vacation. You know that, Malfoy."

"Magic's not allowed during vacation," Malfoy mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "But I don't need magic to get you. I would run now, Weasely, Granger, while you can."

They stood there and stared at him for a few seconds, Weasely's lip trembling ever so slightly, and turned on their heels, and sprinted.

Malfoy laughed, dropped his broom and ran after them, urging Crabbe and Goyle to follow his example. Together, they chased them around the corner, and down to the busy London street, when –

"Where the hell did they go?"

Crabbe and Goyle both gave him perfectly blank looks.

"Oh c'mon, you fools, certainly you saw something…"

"Er…" they said in unison.

"I didn't see nothing," Crabbe said.

Goyle shook his head in agreement.

Malfoy spat into the dirt angrily. "This is all your fault," he yelled. "Idiots." He grabbed them both by the hair, and rammed their heads together.

"Oy. Whatchoo do that for?" Goyle asked, obviously too thick skulled to be damaged by something as harmless of high impact to his head. Or maybe he had lost all his brain cells already to former such treatments, so it didn't matter anyway. Of course, there's always the possibility that he was born dumb.

"Because you're stupid," Malfoy replied to his question. "Now, let's go back to the brooms, before some daft Muggle tries to steal them."


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They were carrying him somewhere. Artemis couldn't be sure where yet, as his face was currently buried in one of the thug's rather beefy shoulders. He tried moving his head back and forth, but couldn't see past the enormous mass of the large man's body.

"STUPEFY!"

Something large and heavy fell on Artemis, and he kicked and struggled to get free. Finding himself standing without restraint, he seized his chance, and ran

"Get him!" someone roared above the shouting. Artemis willed his legs to move faster, but, truth was, he was not runner. It was made all the more difficult by his hands which were tied behind his back.

He felt a heavy weight descend on his shoulder, and his body collapsed underneath the force of impact.

"Got this one!" his captor yelled.

As he was blindfolded and rebound, one thing had made itself very apparent to Artemis…

The other boy, Harry, had escaped.


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Review, all!

Er… tell me, was that short? It wasn't supposed to be…