Harry of Hog and the Saga of Hogswarth

A/N: Tadaa, new chapter! Sorry for the wait, but hey, I was excused. Merry Christmas everyone, and happy 2007!! But to make up for the wait… here is an absolutely enormous chapter! I just couldn't bring myself to break it up. We find out where Harry went, and then I go all out Robin Hood on you, hooray! I am so tired, but I wanted to get this chapter out, because I am so excited about the story! I've watched Tristan + Isolde recently… wow, if it's possible to fall in love with a movie, I just did so. I want to incorporate some of the essence into the story somehow – though don't worry, not the ending – but I'll have to think how I can make it fit my current plans...

Well this chapter title is probably the most straightforward so far. Cookies if you can guess what is going to happen! Because it will, but with a twist! Yay, I am so excited! I really love the universe I have created, I wish I could open up my brain and show it to you!

Though, on second thought…o.0

Thank you so much for your reviews guys… Through them I find the strength to continue! Sometimes writing this story feels so overwhelming.

Cynthia, yeah I know you like Hermione! I hope the chapter did her justice, and I'm so glad you liked it!

Avanell, I just have to say… lol. You're right. But then again, what other purpose does Dean really have other than to be dumped in favour of our main heroes:P

lulu, thanks! No floundering here :) I see your criticism, and raise you a yeahIguessyou'reright. :) I dunno, I do tend to get very retelly, and it's a flaw which I'm very aware of. But you know when you're writing a story and you just really want to get to whatever random part you've just got inspiration for? Then all sorts of "unnecessary" (in terms of the part coming up) little things have to happen first, and if I start explaining them, I can't help but go on for like 3 pages! It's all or nothing, and it's sooo annoying! In this chapter you'll see the results of me trying to avoid retelling… and just look at the length of it! lol, I have so much I want to include, but I guess a little voice in my head is telling me that it'll get boring and that I should just get on with it… it's a self-confidence issue, I'm working on it. :) I hope this chapter feels like it has a bit more meat on it, and thank you so much for the review – I'll definitely try to take it into consideration, though I don't know how much I'm able to change. :/

rweasley500… as always thanks a million for your great review! I'm so happy you noticed the R/Hr moments! That's really all the buildup that pairing needs imo, whereas Harry and Ginny will be a different story once I get to them, their feelings for each other will be more openly expressed, and recognised more clearly by both of them… because they are just more mature about this issue, also in canon:P

Jessica, thank you so much! I really appreciate it, Hermione is one of the most difficult characters to write in fandom imo, because either she's really annoying or so completely ooc, lol! Don't get me wrong, I love her to bits… but she has her moments. ;)

classygyrl, I know you reviewed chapter 3, but thanks:D

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Chapter 10: The Tournament

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Ron turned full circle, being able to move more freely now that the throng had somewhat diminished. Where was Harry? He could have sworn he was right in front of them as they entered the crowd…

Harry moved towards the stands as though in a trance. This was all so new to him, and he was ever so curious about what all those people were cheering for. He made his way through the people and saw two knights fighting. This was one of the competitions, he supposed. Just like training really, but apparently with much more prestige. He glanced around the crowd, amazed that all these faces were different from those he knew, and noticed a raised platform a little way from where he was standing. In order to get a closer look he edged along the side of the stands, throwing sorry's and excuse me's around to people whose view he obscured or whose feet he stepped on along the way. He was finally able to look directly up at the people on the platform, and he gasped. Sitting there, with a look of malevolent enjoyment on his face, a thin silver crown on his bald head, was who could only be Lord Riddle. Harry narrowed his eyes, but remembering Lupin and Hermione's warnings he did not advance. He let his eyes wander along the other people in the box – fat noblemen, ladies in waiting… and then sitting a few places from Lord Riddle was a young girl. She could not be older than Harry himself, and had long, shining red hair and freckles. She was wearing a green dress, and unlike Hermione's this was beautifully embroidered and looked almost delicate to the touch. Harry gazed at this unfamiliar girl in amazement – and then he remembered. This must be Lady Ginevra of Burrow, who had promised herself to Lord Riddle in return for her family's lives. Harry's heart gave a strange lurch as he looked at the girl. It was not fair. He would stop it from happening, he promised her with his eyes. And suddenly, as though she felt his eyes on her, she looked down and met his gaze. It was a strange moment in which they looked at each other in confusion, and then suddenly everyone around then erupted in cheers and catcalls, jumping up and down and obstructing Harry's view of the girl. He was jostled to the side and somehow pushed out of the stands away from the circle, and found himself being pushed to the ground, where he sat blinking in the suddenly dazzling sunlight. A few children a little way away giggled at him, but he didn't really notice. He sat there for a while with a frown on his face, and hardly even noticed when Ron and Hermione came running towards him, Hermione falling to her knees and hugging him tightly.

"Oh for goodness sake Harry we thought… Harry, are you alright?" Hermione looked at him in concern, but Harry just blinked stupidly at her. He shook his head roughly and got to his feet, pulling Hermione with him.

"Yes. I'm fine," he said, still a little dazed. "I… I saw him," he said, suddenly remembering the vile man he had set out to hunt, who was marrying Lady Ginevra against her will. "He is right here, within our range!"

Ron caught Hermione's eye for a brief moment. "It was a bad idea to come here," he said. "Harry, maybe we should-"

"No!" Harry jumped back. "I mean… Ron, I won't do anything, I promise. Now I have seen Riddle, I know what I am up against. Let us do what we came here for. I suggest we take a look at the entrance to the castle, then find Riddle and keep close to him for a while, watch for his personal guard and learn his movement pattern."

'Stay close to him, and watch her,' Harry thought. 'Make sure she can stay out of harm when the battle goes down.'

"Actually," Ron said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts, "We've seen the entrance, it looks pretty heavily guarded; we would not be able to slip through without bringing attention to ourselves. There are windows that look solid enough to hold ropes, and big enough for a man to climb through, they may be of use to us… and the kitchen door," he pointed at a wooden door half hidden by vines in a corner of the castle wall, "Is a perfect way for a few of our spies to slip in and prepare the entrance for the rest."

"Right," said Harry.

"Well Harry, I like your idea of following Riddle," said Hermione. "It will be useful for us all to have seen him, and to find out as much as we can about him. Which is the next tournament?"

Her question was quickly answered for her. People were already starting to gather around a different enclosure a little way away, and a short balding man was jogging around handing out flyers to the people surrounding the tents and stands. He reached Harry, Ron and Hermione, and as he handed them a flyer he called jovially, "Archery tournament starting in a few! If you two young gentlemen would like to participate the sign-up is right over there!" he pointed at a stall with a long like of men with bows and quivers were standing in line at, winked at Hermione and continued his jog, throwing flyers left and right as he went.

Hermione turned the flyer over in her hand. As Harry and Ron had lived with Hagrid all their lives their ability to read was quite limited, so she read the note aloud for them: "Archery tournament, all archers invited. Tournament will consist of one preliminary round, out of which the best four archers will be selected, to compete for the…" she stopped, glaring at the note angrily.

"What?" said Harry impatiently.

"For the right to dance with the princess at the ball this evening," said Hermione huffily. "It figures! Offering the poor girl up as a prize for the winner to fondle, even though she is already promised! Well it is what was to be expected from that-"

"I am entering," said Harry promptly, and Hermione and Ron stared at him. At Hermione's look he said, "I agree with what you said Hermione I truly do – and if I won I would make sure she wasn't fondled by gross old men wouldn't I? Besides, this is the perfect opportunity for us! 'The ball tonight…' that would be inside the castle! I could get in there and explore, get an idea of the place."

"Actually," said Ron thoughtfully, "That is not such a terrible idea Hermione."

Hermione just looked at Harry in wonder. "What happened to you in there Harry?"

Harry just smiled widely at her, happy that they had accepted his explanation, and turned on his heel to join the queue signing up for the tournament.

Ron turned to Hermione. "You know I'd sign up as well… But archery is not my strong suit, as I'm sure you have discovered."

Hermione just looked after Harry, as though merely seeing him. "I think it is good that you don't. Harry wants to win this."

Ron looked at her in confusion, but she just turned to him and smiled. "Besides, now we can watch the tournament together."

Ron smiled back at her, though he was no less confused than before.

Harry was nearly at the clerk's desk now. He listened to the other contestants, making sure he was ready to answer all the questions asked. The man in front of him gave his name (Blaize Zabini of Slyth), got handed a number, and went on his way. Now Harry walked up to the desk.

"Name?" the clerk said, sounding bored.

"Harry…" he hesitated. 'Of Godricshollow' would be a slight giveaway now he thought about it. "Of Hog."

The clerk raised his eyebrow. "That's a bit of a bold statement boy. Do you not belong anywhere then?"

"No," Harry said with a straight face. "I am an orphan." This was true, at any rate.

"Alright then… Harry of Hog," the clerk said with a sneer. You've got number 37. Try to live up to your title eh? Now move it along."

Harry took his little plaque with the number "37" on it, and went to join Ron and Hermione, but the clerk called out to him. "Oy, Hog! All champions are to report over there immediately!" he pointed to a tent a bit of a distance away, towards the growing crowd. Harry gave Ron and Hermione an apologetic shrug, waved and went over to the tent.

Inside were about forty archers, some standing in small huddles looking around conspiratorially, others standing by themselves fussing with their bows or muttering to themselves. Harry looked around at them all, trying to get an overview of his competition. Suddenly a young man stepped out of a huddle and advanced on Harry. He had white-blonde hair and cold grey eyes, and in his hands he held a long and sleek ivory bow.

"Hello there," he said lazily. "New face, eh? Your first competition?" Not waiting for Harry to answer, he continued in that same lazy voice, "I have participated for years of course, as have my friends over there," he indicated the huddle he had just left. Harry saw that all the knights had dark green and grey capes with silver linings, and all carried the same style of bow as the blonde man. "I am Draco of Slyth by the way, those are my companions," he said off-handedly. He waited, as though expecting Harry to be surprised by this information, but Harry just smiled politely. "Well then, which clan do you belong to? Don't tell me you are from the village, those hicks could never afford a sword like yours." Draco's eyes flickered to Harry's sword, and Harry instinctively put a hand over it.

"It was my father's," Harry said, trying not to sound too defensive.

"Was?" Draco said, still eyeing the sword with interest.

"My parents are dead," Harry said flatly. He was not sure why, but he felt a surge of dislike towards this man – he had only ever felt this way about one other person, and he had killed Harry's parents.

"Sorry," Draco said, but he didn't look it. "What is your name anyway?"

"Harry. Of Hog," Harry added, at Draco's enquiring look.

Draco raised his eyebrow, but did not comment. "Well… Harry. If you want any pointers about archery don't hesitate to ask. Me and my friends are… kind of the elite in this sport."

"Oh I don't think I'll need it, but thank you all the same," Harry said with a note of finality in his voice.

"As you wish. Good luck then. Just remember…" Draco continued in a lower voice, "I will be dancing with the princess tonight. Make no mistake."

Harry glared at Draco as he sauntered back to his friends.

"We'll see about that…" Harry muttered, just as a trumpet sounded in the distance. At the noise all the contestants seemed to spring to attention, all pulling out their bows and their first arrow. The little man who had handed Harry the flyer now bustled into the tent.

"Alright then listen up!" he piped. "Champions one to ten, please follow me!"

Ten nervous-looking youths slowly assembled before the man, who ordered them into procession, and as they left the tent one by one, the audience erupted into cheers.

What exactly went on Harry only had a faint idea about. There were screams, applauding, jeering and clapping for seemingly every contestant, and when the trumpet sounded again the ten did not return.

The same thing happened for the 10-20s. When the trumpet sounded for the third time, Draco of Slyth was among the contestants lining up in front of the short man. Harry was pleased to note that Draco did not look quite as confident as he had done a moment ago, when he had made fun of a round-faced young man who was trembling from head to toe as he lined up as number 13. The 20-30s left, and now only 8 people were left in the tent, Harry having been the second to last person to sign up. When the trumpet sounded for the fourth time Harry took a deep breath. He was not nervous. He had nothing to lose, really, he was just doing this to… 'Get closer to Lady Ginevra,' a voice inside his head whispered. 'No,' Harry thought. It had nothing to do with that. That was not why he was here.

The contestants lined up like those before them had done, Harry standing in between Blaise Zabini of Slyth and an older, sour-looking man who was walking with a slight hunch.

As they exited the tent they were met with the same roaring applause as their predecessors. Harry wondered briefly if they were paid to do that, just to make the contestants lose their nerve. The little man jogged around the contestants, pushing and pulling at them to make them stand in a line, all facing their own target, placed about 40 feet away.

The little man now squeaked, "Everybody load your bows! You will each have three shots, after which your performances will be judged by the panel, and we will announce the four finalists!"

Harry glanced at the platform. There Riddle was, watching the spectacle with mild interest, and now Lady Ginevra was sitting next to him. Harry's eyes narrowed. Lady Ginevra was looking at the contestants curiously, and once again her eyes found Harry's. He could not help it, he gave her a small smile – and to his amazement, she returned it. Then she glanced nervously at Riddle, who thankfully was looking at Blaise Zabini, and quickly averted her gaze to the ground. Harry sighed. Winning this tournament suddenly became more important than ever.

He noticed that all the others were pretty much ready, and he quickly loaded his bow, taking careful aim. This was nothing, he tried to convince himself. He had done much harder with ease.

"Everyone ready?" the man cried. "Ready… set… fire!"

At exactly the same time eight arrows soared through the air, and hit their targets, more or less. The old man on Harry's right seemed to have miscalculated slightly, because the arrow hit the outer circle on Harry's target, rather than the man's own.

'As long as they don't count it as mine,' Harry found himself thinking. His own arrow had hit home perfectly. As had, he saw, Blaise Zabini's and a few others' down the line. Harry drew a breath. This could prove a slightly bigger challenge than he had estimated.

He loaded his bow again along with everyone else, and soon the small man called, "Ready? The set and… fire!"

Harry released the arrow, but as he did so his finger flickered. His heart plummeted. His arrow had just missed the centre of the target. He looked around to see how the others had done. He was pleased to see only a few people had managed to hit the centre, and only Blaise Zabini had gotten within a few inches from the very centre, where his first arrow still resided.

'I can still make it,' Harry thought wildly. 'I don't know how the other contestants have done.'

And so once again he loaded his bow. He thought of Riddle's face if he knew who was competing for a dance with his betrothed. Then he thought of Ginevra, who just minutes before had smiled at him. The little man called again, and this time there was no doubt in Harry's mind. He released the arrow, it soared through the air – and the audience let out a collective gasp. The tip of Harry's arrow had hit dead centre, and had sliced through his first arrow in the process. Harry beamed as the crowd erupted into wild cheers. He looked at Zabini's target. His third arrow had also hit the centre, but right at the edge. Most of the others had missed, the old man this time looking up into the air confusedly, apparently having lost sight of his arrow.

The little man was out of himself with excitement. "That, gentlemen… excellent! Now please join the other competitors over there," he indicated a few rows of benches at the side which Harry had not noticed before, on which all the others were sitting. Harry eyes found Draco, who was scowling at him, but Harry just smiled pleasantly, and went to sit next to the round-faced boy he had identified as number 13.

"H-h-hello," the boy said, still trembling slightly.

"Hi," said Harry. "My name is Harry. What is yours?"

"Oh," the boy said. "Neville. Neville Longbottom." He paused, then said, "I saw you just now. You are an excellent shot. How come we have never seen you at these competitions before?"

"Well," Harry said, "I have never had the opportunity until now. How about you, how long have you been involved in this?"

"Oh for years," Neville said. "Actually, my gran – I live with my grandmother, see, she wanted me to compete because my father was… is… very skilled with a bow. I have never really seemed to get the hang of it though," he said, almost apologetically.

"Really? I am told I inherited my skills from my father too." Off Neville's look he added, "Oh my parents are dead. But maybe archery just is not your game. I have a friend, Ron, who-"

He was interrupted by the sound of the trumpet. Neville, who seemed to have relaxed slightly when talking to Harry, jumped about three feet into the air.

"Alright then," the little man squeaked, and the crowd was dead quiet, hanging onto his every word. The man seemed to realise this, and puffed up a bit before continuing. "The judged have conversed, and we have decided on the three champions. First champion…" he checked the list in his hand, "Draco of Slyth!"

The crowd clapped politely, some cheered, and Draco got to his feet with a flourish, as though he had already won.

"Second…" the man continued, "Blaise Zabini of Slyth!"

Blaise got up as well and went to join Draco.

"Third… Neville Longbottom!"

An old woman in the audience jumped to her feet and cheered wildly, as did a few other people. Neville had gone very white, his eyes as wide as cartwheels. Harry nudged him, and smiled encouragingly.

"You can't be all that bad then, can you?" Harry whispered. "Go on, you deserve it!"

Neville got to his feet as though in a trance, and went to stand by Draco and Blaise, who scrunched up their noses at him. Neville luckily didn't seem to notice.

"And now…" the man began again, and a silence like never before washed over the crowd. "The fourth champion…" the man consulted his list again, and read, "Sir Harry of… Hog."

Harry got to his feet, and the crowd erupted in its biggest cheer yet. He looked around and saw Ron and Hermione standing right at the front – that was why he had not seen them before, they had been right behind him when he had been shooting – and waved at them. He then looked round to the platform, and was pleased to see that Ginevra was clapping very hard for him, and when she met his gaze he could have sworn he saw her hand flicker in a half-wave. He beamed even more brightly, and inclined his head ever so slightly to her, before turning his attention back on the field. He went to stand next to Neville, and they smiled at each other.

"Good luck!" Neville exclaimed. "You deserve to win."

"You too," Harry said. "I will be cheering for you."

And they started to position themselves for the final round.

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Ron and Hermione had once again managed to squeeze their way to the very front. They had watched as the contestants came and went in waves, looking for a sign of Harry – and finally he came out, looking nervous but determined. Ron saw his eyes flicker to the platform where Lord Riddle sat, and hoped his presence would not cause Harry to lose focus. He seemed to smile though, so maybe he was imagining that the target was Riddle's head or something. That's what Ron would do, at any rate.

When Harry's second arrow had missed the centre by inches, Ron felt rather than heard Hermione's groan.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Why, Harry, why??"

"Don't worry," Ron said, through gritted teeth, "He can still pull back from it."

And he did, with grandeur. Hermione and Ron were among the people who cheered the loudest when Harry's third arrow penetrated his first, and Ron only just managed to stop himself turning to Hermione and embracing her in all the excitement.

"He is going to make it," Hermione chanted, "They can't ignore… he will make it Ron, I can just feel it!"

Ron's eyes flickered to Hermione. Her face was flushed, she was gripping the fence separating them from the archers so tightly her knuckles were white. Ron's hands were gripping the fence too – but that was largely to stop himself grabbing onto Hermione's hands instead. It was harder to stop himself when she looked like she did right now. He tried to focus his attention on the champions. It was like a dream, watching the events from the sidelines like this. Harry was talking to a kind-looking boy, now the names were being called out, the boy Harry talked to was selected, and…

"YES! Go Harry!!!" Hermione screamed, jumping up and down with her fists in the air. As, Ron noticed in the excitement, did a lot of other people. Harry finally noticed them there, and waved happily, and they returned it enthusiastically. Ron then saw Harry's eyes flicker once more to the stands, and followed his gaze. He noticed now that Riddle was not the only noteworthy person there. Next to him was a young girl with red hair, who was smiling and clapping for Harry. She was wearing a nice green dress which complimented her hair – Ron was not one for colour coordination but he had found himself choosing green whenever possible, as it was good for redheads, so he recognised the advantage. He frowned, as though remembering something from a long time ago – but before he could fully form a thought about it he noticed something. The girl had twitched her hand slightly. Had she waved at Harry? And Harry… he acknowledged it. Ron blinked. When had this happened? He looked back at the platform, but this time his eyes found someone else. Lord Riddle was looking at Harry through narrowed eyes, and his eyes flickered to the girl. Ron's eyes widened. He could tell this was not good. He nudged Hermione, who looked towards the platform and saw Riddle too, and gasped.

"Do you think he knows?" she asked Ron urgently. "About Harry? Could he have realised…?"

"No," said Ron, once again looking at the girl thoughtfully. "He feels threatened. I don't think he realises who by, though."

Hermione bit her lip, and Ron's chest surged. He ignored it.

"There is no way to warn Harry though," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We'll just have to hope for the best. What is the worst that can happen?" she asked, laughing nervously.

"Right," said Ron. "Exactly."

Now the champions had gotten into position. Before they could fire though, a cold voice rang out, cutting through the noise of the crowd as though it were butter: "Wormtail! A word."

The little man who had been announcing jumped, then nervously hurried over to the platform, where they now saw that Riddle had risen – to an impressive height – and was speaking to a second man in hushed voices. This man then bent down and said something into the man named Wormtail's ear, who nodded. Lord Riddle then stepped down from the platform, in a fluid sort of motion. The girl, Ron noticed out of the corner of his eye, looked nervously on, her eyes flickering to Harry.

"What is happening?" Hermione whispered.

She needn't have asked, however. Wormtail waved his arms for attention, and the crowd, which had been talking excitedly amongst itself, quieted down.

"Uh, listen up! Slight change of plans! The honourable, merciful, grand Lord of-" Riddle cleared his throat, and Wormtail gulped, "Lord uh, Riddle, had so graciously offered to join in. He will shoot an arrow at a target 50-" Riddle coughed again, "No, 60 feet away, and the objective for our finalists will be to get at close to that arrow as possible. Right, please contestants, if you could form a line here, behind Zabini, yes… no…" he proceeded to move them around, he pushed Harry out of the way and placed Longbottom after Zabini, then once again pushed Harry back and pulled Malfoy forward, then finally let Harry take his place at the back. Ron frowned.

"And… your arrow in your quiver now, only one, no cheating," Wormtail laughed nervously. While he was talking Riddle had acquired a bow and was loading it. "Alright, well ready and…" but Riddle had already fired. The ivory arrow soared through the air and landed exactly in the middle of the target. The crowd gasped and clapped, impressed but not daring to cheer. Then Zabini was up. He loaded his bow and took careful aim, took a deep breath and fired. The crowd did cheer this time, Zabini's arrow had landed not far from Riddle's, although there were a good few inches difference. Now it was Longbottom's turn. The poor boy was so nervous, he loaded his bow and sent it flying, so far it went straight over the target and deeply embedded itself in a tree some 80 feet away. The crowd clapped at this, too, because even if he had disqualified himself it was a very impressive shot. He did not seem to notice though, still seemingly too shocked at being a finalist to care. Then came Malfoy. Like the others he carefully loaded his bow and-

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, clutching at his sleeve. Ron looked down at her hand, then to where she was pointing with the other. While everyone, including Harry, had been so caught up in watching the others shoot, Wormtail had edged behind Harry, and Ron distinctly saw the glimpse of silver – Wormtail was exchanging the arrows!

"What are we going to do?" Ron asked wildly, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hands. Hermione just shook her head though, and Ron looked wildly around. No one seemed to have noticed anything, and were now cheering wildly for Draco of Slyth, whose arrow had hit the target about an inch from Riddle's.

Ron could only watch in numb disbelief as Harry loaded his bow carefully, taking deep breaths but looking determined. Perhaps the most awful thing was that Ron knew he could do it, he could have made that shot. Ron's eyes flickered to the girl on the platform, who seemed to be gripping the sides of her chair very hard, to Riddle who had a cold smirk plastered on his face, back to Harry, who had now pulled back his arm, readying himself for the perfect shot that would never hit home, Ron watched as in slowmotion as Harry's hand slowly released the string…

What happened next was utter confusion. There was a sharp twang by his ear, he saw Harry's arrow flop and turn on the bow, then embed itself deeply into the ground – yet the arrow was there, soaring through the air now, and… Ron could not believe it. The arrow had hit the target, and had done the impossible – sliced through Riddle's arrow. Ron gaped. So did Wormtail. Riddle looked livid. All around people were cheering wildly, jumping up and down and hugging each other. Ron saw Harry look down, look at Riddle then stamp his foot down on what remained of the arrow, concealing it in the grass.

Ron's eyes suddenly widened in realisation, and he turned to look at Hermione. Her arm was raised, and she was holding the bow still in her hand, as though frozen in place by what she had done. She met Ron's eyes and quickly lowered her arms, hiding the bow from immediate view. Ron gawked at her, but she merely shrugged.

"Technically it's not cheating," she whispered, flushed again. "You know that Harry could have made that shot had he not been sabotaged."

"Yes," Ron said slowly. "Harry could have…"

But at that moment all of his logical thoughts were driven out of his mind, because he had turned back to look at the enclosure, and found himself staring straight into the Dark Lord's cold eyes. They were gleaming red.

"Go," Ron muttered to Hermione. Hermione looked round in confusion and then saw Riddle too – he had seen her bow. She gasped as Riddle's soldiers came running into the enclosure too.

"Seize them!" Riddle's voice rang out, high-pitched, and cold as his eyes.

"Go!" Ron shouted, but Hermione did not move. The soldiers had already advanced on Harry – Ron saw them surround him, saw him struggle but to no avail, soon his hands were tied behind his back though he was still struggling, the red haired girl had her hands over her mouth in horror, and attempted to move from the platform but was held back by a few other women – and Hermione still did not move. "Go, Hermione damnit!" Ron shouted again, as he pulled out his sword, "Go back to the forest, raise the alarm, I'll attempt to free Harry!"

"Attempt and fail, you can't handle all those guards by yourself!" Hermione yelled angrily. "I am not leaving you here Ron!"

Ron groaned, exasperated that Hermione would not just heed him this one time, but resigned himself to the fact that they would stay together, and that he would have to be extra careful that nothing happened to her.

Riddle's men advanced upon them. All around people were running around in confusion, some trying to fight Riddle's men as well, others grabbing women and children and making a run for it. Ron was fighting two men at the same time, while out of the corner of his eye watching Hermione dodge the blades swung at her, only to advance and plunge her knife into the knights, or sometimes get herself isolated enough to load her bow and shoot.

In a moment of no attacks, Ron searched the scene for Harry, but saw no sign of him. He realised with a pang that it was too late.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "Harry is gone! We have to-"

"Ron look out!" Hermione screamed suddenly.

Ron dodged just in time. A massive knight was advancing at him, and his sword had just sliced through the air the place Ron's head had been a moment before. Ron rolled away and managed to deflect another blow by the knight. He saw Hermione running to his aid, pushing her way desperately through the masses of fighting people, and only wished she would run the other way; no one seemed to notice her now, and she could get away, to safety…

He was getting tired. The knight swung and swung again, and Ron's arm hurt so much he could hardly raise his sword. Hermione would not make it in time. He felt his muscles falter, knew that there was nothing left, and suddenly felt a strange emotion – regret, perhaps, associated with Hermione and all he would never do or say. And then-

Wham! The knight lay at his feet, knocked unconscious. Ron looked up from the knight, stunned, and looked straight into the eyes of the round-faced boy he had seen talk to Harry. The boy had a big round stone in his hand, and looked utterly astonished at what he had just done.

"You should really get yourself a proper weapon, mate," Ron panted. "Thanks."

Hermione finally managed to make her way to them. Her eyes found Ron, and an unreadable expression passed over her face. For a moment she seemed unable to speak, but her hand had reached up to touch his shoulder.

Without warning another knight advanced on them, but Hermione quickly withdrew an arrow from her quiver, and not bothering with the bow she simply stabbed the knight with the arrow. She turned to Ron and the boy again.

"We have to leave. We are no help to Harry now." She turned her eyes on the boy. "You can't stay here now, they will know what you have done. You saved Ron, that is good enough for me. Come with us!"

The boy looked indecisive for a moment. "You are the rebels, then?" he asked. At their nods, he seemed to swell a little, pushing out his chest. "Yes, I will come with you!"

"Let's go," Ron said, making sure he had Hermione covered as they sneaked their way past the knights, who were busy fighting the contestants and, it seemed, each other. As they got out of the crowd, Ron turned and for the briefest moment caught the eye of the red-haired girl, and it was all he needed to know that she was on their side, and perhaps would find Harry wherever he had been taken. Then Ron turned and the three of them ran for it, all the way past the now unattended gates (the guards seemed to have joined in the struggle), and onwards straight ahead into the sanctuary of the Forbidding Forest, thankfully not having to go through the little village a little way away. They were safe now, at least. But what about Harry?

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A/N: Once again a Where's Harry cliffie, but this time a bit more exciting… Did you all like the way I brought in Ginny? I know it was a bit vague, I was planning on having Harry attend the ball and dance with her, but I felt it would seem too staged and give too much away… and in these medieval times there was much more focus on Love At First Sight anyway… I think. There is for Harry and Ginny anyway, they're meant to be! :) Well please review! That is the only way I'll know if I'm doing this right!

By the waaaaay… we got a title!!! w00t!!!!!! I won't spoil it for you if you don't know it, but go to Veritaserum, Mugglenet, Leaky… even Amazon has got it up! Hmm, I have to admit that at first glance I was kind of like this o.0 lol, but what do I know? I'm sure it'll have excellent relevance! After all, what didn't we all think when HBP was announced about a wizarding royal family and all? lol! But alas! The end is nigh! Sigh. I personally wish she'll wait another year… I want to continue theorising and doing all this fandom stuff! Meh. I digress. Bye!