A/N: OMG guys… I'm sorry. You know the stupid thing? I have had this entire chapter all written except for one scene for like a month, but I just could not get the one bit written! On top of that I've been busy with podcasting and work, but it's no excuse. At least, if I was a reader of my story I would not accept my apology. I've decided to break up this chapter, because I want to get the second half just right, yet I wanted to get something out there… sorry it's short, but I promise the next part will come faster this time! I'm working on another story atm, kind of time travelly… well I'll work some more on it and then release it here, I hope you'll give it a read once I do :) Ok so for the chapter - yay, the romance has begun! I am so happy! This chapter title is from a poem read by Isolde to Tristan in guess which movie – I felt it was very suitable as a Harry/Ginny theme, as it mirrors the impossible love they will come to harbour from one another… but now before giving away too much, let's just proceed to the story!

Reviews:

In order to get this out fast, THANK YOU to Avanell, kriitikko, Jessica, ronhermione4eva2314, lifeisawesome89, born4purple, and Lady Lithe for your kind words, I'm still amazed at what you've written!

Quick comments, cause I couldn't help it:

rweasley500: I see your point, and I did think about that too, and in any other circumstance of course they would have waited. What made me decide to let them go all the way was because these are medieval times, they are outlaws, neither were completely aware of the implications of their actions (and therefore would not have many moral reasons for waiting), and for all they know they could be dead tomorrow. I know to us it seems kind of rushed, but I think it'd be a lot different in the actual situation. :)

MagikCat: And…I'm back now too:D I really hate to keep you waiting, but I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of writer's block. :) I'm just so happy to get this chapter out, and hope it doesn't seem too rushed… Don't worry about reading the MM, lol, don't betray your morals:) lol it was kind of a leap for me to write it (I'm not a big smut reader), and I'm 19 (as of last Friday, lol!)…

Avie1: (I'm assuming you're Avanell…? But I could be wrong) Thank you!! I'm not so sure about Harry finding out (lol but imagine the conversation between Ron and Harry! None of them know what happened!!), but Dean will certainly notice the tension… It's actually funny, I was seriously considering putting Fudge in the role of King Richard (and am dearly regretting it, cause DD would have made an awesome rebel leader!) due to his impassiveness (coughuselessnesscough), but I still think Voldemort fits Prince John. I mean, Voldemort is obviously in it only for power and himself (relying a little too much on the Disney version for Prince John to fit this persona…), but he definitely promotes change, and wants to take over the world, I assume to make it, in his eyes, a better place. But about DD; a relatively large portion of the fanbase actually consider him a bit of an impassive observer throughout the books, letting Harry do the hard work – which is where the Robin Hood parallel shines through. Now I'm a great Dumbledore supporter and don't believe any of it… but it worked for this story :)

Sammie: lol omg I'm posting this like 10 mins after your review… hope that's fast enough for ya! ;) I'll email you ofc, and thank you so much!! I hope you'll like this chapter too… now I'm all nervous.

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Chapter 12: My Face in Thine Eye

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It was like a jolt through the stomach… flutterings and breathlessness, an unexplainable prickling of the eyes. Was this what love felt like? But, it couldn't be. Their eyes had met, probably in a fleeting instant for him – but both times?

Ginny shook her head, trying to rid herself of thoughts of the handsome stranger… Harry.

She was Riddle's betrothed; the public had gotten its first proper glance of her, gawking of all sorts was only to be expected. Had she only imagined that this was somehow different? This boy had looked at her with such care and intensity that she had felt faint. And now he was a prisoner, Ginny did not even know for what, and was locked down in the dungeons.

The dungeons, to which she had access.

But it was preposterous! He was a complete, possibly dangerous, stranger, he was completely unaware of her feelings for him, he was…

He was absolutely divine. She had to go see him, talk to him if she could. It suddenly seemed of utmost importance that Ginny got down to this boy, and without giving it another thought she grabbed a dark blue cloak to cover her dress and hair, and swept out of her room.

She did not expect to get to the dungeons without getting caught, or that her feeble disguise would hide her from the guards, but to her surprise she had a fairly uneventful trip down to the dungeons, only twice having to dodge a guard, and once having to take a slight detour after having told a suspicious chambermaid that she was heading to the kitchens for an afternoon snack. It was the night of the ball after all, and as she was expected not to eat much during the public dinner it was very plausible that she would fill her stomach earlier instead.

She reached the dungeons far too quickly for her liking – what would she say to him, if she managed to get in? This was insane, she had no real idea what she was doing – she only knew that she had to get to Harry.

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He was in trouble now. Harry could just imagine Hermione and Ron's stricken faces, see the guilt on their faces as they returned back to camp without him… But it had been his own fault, not theirs, and Harry hoped that they would remember that, whatever happened.

How foolish he had been! Harry sighed. He should never have come here. But… he had wanted to see her. This beautiful young woman, promised to a man she did not love, the man he had sworn to kill, for his parents and now for her. What must she think of him now, imprisoned and helpless?

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Ginny sighed as she walked along the dark, dank corridor, doors with small barred up windows on either side of her, moaning echoing through the gloom. She was not exactly prohibited from going down here, but she generally tried to avoid it at all costs. There was nothing she could do for these poor souls, and as selfish as it felt to her, she would rather spare herself from this pointless despair.

A little way along, a guard was standing in front of a door, and Ginny knew she had reached her goal.

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Would they kill him, or torture him first for information? Harry was not afraid to die… but he was regretful for all that he had not yet gotten to experience. He wanted… he just wished that he'd had a bit more time!

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Ginny cleared her throat, and the guard lifted his head in surprise.

"What, who there?" He exclaimed stupidly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh Crabbe, it's you." Great, thought Ginny, this'll be easier than I thought.

"Um… Princess. What do you want?" Crabbe asked impolitely.

"I need to see the prisoner," Ginny said sweetly.

"Oh, alright – no, uh… why?" Crabbe asked, and Ginny could literally see the wheels turning frantically in his head.

"It's private," said Ginny, and lowering her voice conspiratorially, added, "I'm here to extract information, Crabbe."

Crabbe's eyebrows, that were already a good deal up his forehead, shot into his hair. "Ohhhh," he said, a knowing expression. "I understand, Lady Ginevra. Not a word, right?"

"Right," said Ginny, not completely following, but deciding to go with it. "And of course," she added, as an idea struck her, "I'll tell you all about it afterwards, if you get my drift. This knowledge, coming from you…"

Crabbe's entire face lit up, and Ginny felt a very slight twinge of guilt. "Right, milady, right! No need to explain further! I'll let you right in then," he said happily, and fished a very large set of keys up from his pocket.

Ginny let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and felt in fascination as her heartbeat increased more and more as the key, held in Crabbe's grubby hand, made its way to the keyhole, opening the door to the mysterious stranger.

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Harry looked up in alarm as the door opened. Now the executioner or the torturer would walk in, and either way his life would be over. He would… wait, he thought. That cannot be either of the two.

It was a woman. Her hair was covered by a hood, and she walked with her face downcast. Was she here to… bless him or something? Harry blinked in bewilderment, but she did not move at all until the guard had left them alone in the cell.

She raised her eyes to his, and Harry gasped. It was her.

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