Moments in Time

Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis

XV: Taken

or

"Courage is being scared, but saddling up anyway."

Dawn was rising as three figures traveled through the deserted plains of Narnia and into Estimoor. Queen Lucy tugged at the conjured manacles on her wrist and shuddered as a spike of pain traveled up her arms, a warning, for her to not try too hard to escape. Right next to her was her brother's loyal guard, Dagger, he too had been bound by the same type of spell, only his acted as a muzzle. The wolf was subjected to the same promise of pain as her, should he try to do anything to aid his Queen in any attempt of escape. Thus, Lucy and Dagger had quickly come to a silent agreement that they were of better use to each other alive, than to try anything in front of this witch.

Lucy's feet ached as they continued without rest. She couldn't remember the last time that she had trekked for this long without the aid of a horse or carriage. The steepness of the plains did not help her cause. Her eyes felt heavy with tiredness and her stomach made loud growling noises, that sounded like a beast in the quietness of their surroundings. The witch had offered her an apple, to eat, but Lucy had politely declined; for all she knew it could have been poisoned - as goes the story of Snow White.

The witch had maintained her steely demeanor but every once in a while, Lucy caught a glimpse of doubt shadowing her face.

"You don't have to do this you know?" Lucy said quietly, in an almost pleading voice.

The old witch touched a feather that was pinned to the breast of her cloak and cast an almost sad glance at Lucy.

"I'm afraid that there is no other way," she said, her voice too gentle and whimsical to sound at all threatening.

Lucy stared at their woman apprehensively.

"If you're in some sort of trouble, if someone's making you do this, I'm sure that my brothers can help you," she suggested, "there's nothing that they cannot handle, and you would have my full support, and Caspian will no doubt offer his help too! If only you will allow me to go back to Cair Paravel, I can - I'm sure I can!" Lucy said with a burst of enthusiasm and growing hope.

There was hesitation in the old woman's stance. Her eyes grew distant, as though she was momentarily considering the proposal, and then just as suddenly, she was very present.

"There is no other way," she repeated more firmly; this time there was a fire of foreboding shining in her eyes.

Lucy's shoulders dropped as her shortly stemmed piece of hope depleted. They continued their journey once more, this time at a renewed rigorous pace, making Lucy regret the fact that she had opened her mouth in the first place. Her muscles burned with exhaustion and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her hands shook with staggering pain every time she fell back a bit to catch her breath as the manacles punished her for being slow.

"Where are you taking us?" Lucy gasped after a while, hoping that another sprig of conversation will allow them another rest.

The witch did not reply, but she didn't need to. Dagger struggled with alarm in his bonds, despite the pain, and Lucy felt faint as the icy blue castle shimmered into view as though it had been hidden before. Lucy's heart missed a few beats and dread crept up on her in tenfold. It couldn't be. Surely no one would be so foolish to bring her back to life.

The white ice gleamed threateningly. The sharp icicle-like towers pierced the dark sky like blades.

"No," a breathless whisper fell out of Lucy's mouth.

They were at the White Witch's Castle.

Not too far away from where Lucy was, two captured wizards unknowingly shared the Narnian Queen's dread as they were brought up to the hostile looking castle. It certainly had to homebody sense of awe and magic that Hogwarts inspired, that was for sure.

"Walk," the Vampire Count ordered.

"It looks a bit cold in there, couldn't we just have our conversation outside?" Ron asked despairingly. He was met with a rough shove on his shoulder.

"Thought not," the redhead sighed.

Harry held in his cynical thoughts as they were led through the castle that unsurprisingly did feel as cold as it looked. As they walked through the not-so-slippery ice floor into what looked like a great hall, or perhaps it was called a throne room, judging by the threatening looking throne that stood proudly at the other end. It could almost be called an ice sculpture, by the way, that it was so daintily carved but the hundreds of icicles that spiked out of the back of the throne, it looked anything but welcoming.

"What are we meeting some sort of Ice Queen?" Harry muttered snidely under his breath.

The vampires looked confusingly amused by his question.

"I bet Greengrass would have loved that throne," Ron remarked beside him.

Had Hermione been with them, she would have berated them for their lack of sensibility. But both young men knew that they were both outnumbered and outclassed, they were in a foreign land with a clear threat against them. Their only best bet was the play out the scene and gather more information about their captor. Their short inside joke was interrupted when a male strode into the room with an air of pompous arrogance surrounding him. His walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch.

"Ah, I see that our esteemed guests have arrived," he remarked unremarkably.

Ron and Harry squinted through the dim lit room to try and get a better view of the man who had ordered their capture.

"Why are they tied up? Release them immediately!" he said as he sat down on the throne, not allowing the vampires a moment to give a reason for their discretion.

Ron smirked smugly as the sour vampire untied him. However, a strange chill of foreboding settled in their bones as they laid eyes on the man who sat so casually on the throne. He had an aura that was eerily reminiscent of Voldemort, his eyes were as cold and unforgiving as a snake's. Though he exuded an intimidating air of vanity, the man was rather small, not much taller than Harry and certainly a fair few inches shorter than Ron. But both boys were no fools, the instant the man laid his calculating eyes and smiling face on them, they knew that they were in trouble.

Harry's stomach clenched and twisted violently with anxiety as he eyed the Ice King with dread. The Count had told them that someone wanted them alive. What did this King want with them? And more importantly was he the Narnian King? Harry had been under the impression that there were five of them, the monarchs of the country, that is. So where were the other four thrones? This man looked rather old, his face was weathered and wrinkled; from what he had heard, the monarchs were rather young.

Harry could practically hear Moody screaming 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' in his ear. No, this could not be a Narnian monarch. There were too many contradicting facts.

"Harry, Harry, Harry Potter," the man said with a tinkle in his voice, "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"And what am I? Chopped liver?" Ron muttered under his breath, sending an exasperated Harry a small smirk.

"I wish I could say the same, but I don't think I quite know who you are," Harry replied with a hint of mutiny in his tone.

"Ah, yes, yes ... allow me to introduce myself," he said, as he stood up from his throne.

"Please don't," Ron added quietly with a roll of his eyes.

"I am Lord Sopespian," he introduced, with an exaggerated wide display of his arms outstretched.

The irony of the parallels in both this world and the world they originated from did not escape Ron's or Harry's notice. Harry briefly wondered if Lord Sopespian was an anagram such that 'I am Lord Voldemort' had turned out to be 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'.

"Not King, then?" Ron asked out loud finally, with a curious glance at the throne that could easily poke out his eyes and pierce through his body in one clean swipe.

Lord Sopespian's face soured and his lips settled into a thin line. He settled back into his throne as Harry and Ron looked on wearily.

"That," he emphasized, "is what I'm hoping you will help me with."

Harry and Ron shuffled their feet uncomfortably. Their guts immediately told them that they were not going to like what came next.

"I need your help in overthrowing those blasted Narnians off the throne," Sopespian spat with venom.

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Silence hung heavily in the air.

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"...Come again mate?" Ron asked, his tone strung with incredulity and confusion.

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Harry merely shook his head with disbelief. Why him?

The sound of heavy hooves clicking on the gravel path echoed through the night and the Narnian guards stood more alert as the noise grew closer in distance to the castle.

"Open the gates!" Edmund bellowed from his steed as they stormed up to the castle.

"It's the King! Hurry!" The night shift guards stumbled and hurried to open the iron gates in time.

Hermione clung onto Edmund, fearing the thought of falling off the horse as Edmund showed no signs of slowing down. For a brief moment, she thought that he would storm the castle with the horse at the momentum he was keen on keeping. But as quick as the thought came, it went, because Edmund tugged at the reigns sharply, causing the horse to rear back on its hinds. She bit back a yelp as she clutched onto his shoulders for support, gravity threatened to drag her to the ground.

Edmund tensed under her grip, momentarily caught off guard by the anger that pumped through his veins before he reached back and placed a steady hand on her back. As though they weren't already pressed up against each other enough, his actions brought her plush against his back, where once again, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she buried her face into his back. Breathing heavily, he eased the horse back down. Lucy's horse, that had obediently followed and kept up with Edmund's pace, came to a much more graceful halt behind them.

At once, the guards were upon them, showering their King with whatever task he needed attending to. Although, the sight of Peter Kader tied up caused them to approach the situation with caution.

"Your Majesty?" A centaur came forwards, eyeing the fallen Captain tied to a horse that was well known to be Queen Lucy's.

"Take him to the dungeons," Edmund ordered as he dismounted smoothly.

"But ... Sire!" A guard protested, eyeing the medals of valor that hung proudly on Peter's decorated jacket.

Edmund stared at the man questioningly. The guards immediately stilled. They were perplexed by this sudden order but no-one dared contradict him. If the King ordered, they would do as he said. If the King ordered this Captain to the dungeons, then he must have a good reason. Though the Kingdom of Narnia was rather small in comparison to its neighboring lands, it was larger in heart. The reign of the Kings and Queens of Old and King Caspian X had been a kind but firm one to that of the Usurper of Caspian IX, Miraz, and people had come to respect all of them. They led the affairs of the kingdom with their hearts and their influence rubbed off on most of their subjects. Thus, they highly respected them in all the decisions they made for they knew they were made with careful consideration and justice ... and also the fact that the Kings and Queens were rather ferocious when they were angry.

The centaur easily hauled the unconscious man up as soon as the guard finished untying him.

"I want a guard stationed outside his cell at all times, am I understood?"

"Yes Sire," the guard and centaur agreed.

Hermione quietly dismounted, confusedly acknowledging the respectful nods the guards showed her and walked up the stairs with Reepicheep, a little bit behind Edmund who was taking rather large strides. The mouse appeared to be growing more anxious by the minute, his whiskers twitched wildly and his tail whipped along the marbled floor. Hermione felt his anxiety rub off on her. She had never felt this unsure about herself and her position since the day Ron had left her and Harry alone in the woods.

"Edmund!" A familiar voice called out from across the corridor.

Hermione snapped her head in his direction, recognizing the voice, she watched with growing dread in the pit of her stomach as Edward and Oliver approached them.

"Is that Peter?" Oliver asked Edward. Their strides grew quicker as they noticed the guards dragging in their unconscious brother.

"Hermione! What happened to Peter?" Oliver asked.

"Why is he tied up?" Edward added.

"Tied up?" Oliver repeated, his eyes drawing to the bonds that held his brother's hands behind his back. "What is going on? Unhand him, don't you know who he is?" He asked the centaur.

The centaur awkwardly looked between the Royal Knight and the King.

"I'm afraid I cannot, sir," the centaur guard said, giving respect to Oliver's rank.

"Edmund, why is Peter unconscious and tied up?" Edward questioned with rankling ire.

"That's King Edmund," Edmund replied tersely. Edward stepped back slightly with wide eyes looking as though he had been slapped. "And that man is currently a fugitive. No-one is to speak or make contact with him unless specifically given permission by myself, Caspian or my siblings. Am I understood?"

Oliver and Edward stared at Edmund with disbelief etched on their faces. The guards quickly regained their traction when Edmund shot them a raised eyebrow, silently asking them why they were still standing around. As the guards disappeared around the corner with Peter, and Edmund and Reepicheep headed in the direction of the Northern Wing; Oliver and Edward turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, please, there must be some mistake, why does the King think that Peter is a fugitive?" Oliver asked.

"I-" Hermione stuttered, wringing her hands together, the pit at the bottom of her stomach deepened into a bottomless pit as her loyalty tore in half, "I don't- I mean-"

"Miss Granger!" Edmund's sharp voice carried through the silent corridor.

Hermione snapped straight at the authoritative tone in his voice. For a brief moment, she felt like she was back at school, caught by a teacher while up to no good with Harry and Ron; and then anger riled up in her. It was not her fault. He was making her choose between the people who gave her a home and him. It was unfair and shouldn't really be a choice and yet they both knew what her decision would be.

"I need to go," she whispered with guilt, unable to meet their eyes.

Spinning tightly on her heels, she walked towards Edmund with a pinched face.

"You called?" she asked him rigidly.

Edmund narrowed his eyes at her with warning but refrained from rising to the bait she was clearly dangling front of him.

"We need to find Peter," was his equally stiff response.

With a tight, reluctant nod, she followed him; forcing herself not to look back at the Kaders out of shame and cowardice for the likely betrayal she would see on their faces.

Edmund stopped in front of two large wooden doors, nodding cordially at the guards who saluted him. Hermione shuffled her feet behind on him, as she eyed the intimidating looking palace guards stationed at the door. They reminded Hermione of the red guards stationed at Buckingham Palace, never once breaking their expressions, even when her dad cracked his terrible jokes while she and her mother laughed.

Edmund gave three customary loud knocks on the door before he threw the door open and strode in with a purpose.

"Pete-Dear Aslan!" Edmund exclaimed.

Hermione frowned, noticing the slight quirk of the lips of the guards as she peered over Edmund's tall, broad shoulder to see a partly undressed High King. Blushing to the roots of her hair, she quickly stepped back and allowed Peter some privacy.

"Dammit Edmund! Have you never heard of waiting for a response?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting to find you with anyone at this time of night, that's for sure!" Edmund responded.

Hermione frowned. She had been under the impression that King Peter had been courting Princess Cassiopeia.

"Cassie, what on earth are you doing here?" he asked the other apparent occupant of the room.

Hermione shook her head with disbelief and hurriedly found herself scurrying out of the way as Edmund stumbled backward. The door slammed shut and Peter stood in front of it, protectively, as he tied up the belt on his banyan robe.

"Edmund," Peter said gravely, "King Nain and Queen Imani have been kidnapped."

The guards broke their facade and looked on with wide eyes. Hermione frowned, catching Edmund's eye, his jaw tightened as he wondered the same thing - was this connected to Lucy's abduction? It could not all just be one big coincidence.

"What's Cassie doing here then?"

"She managed to escape and I was asking her for details," Peter briefed.

"Half naked?" Edmund asked skeptically and condescendingly.

Peter glared at Edmund, "No, she woke me up completely hysterical, and in a matter of perspective, putting on a shirt wasn't at the forefront of my mind. Miss Granger, Reep," Peter greeted offhandedly. "Now, tell me why the three of you are barging into my quarters at this time of night."

The three companions exchanged glances.

"Well?" Peter intoned, immediately catching onto the fact that something terrible had happened.

"Lucy and Dagger have been kidnapped!" Hermione exclaimed, her anxiety bubbling over an overfilled cauldron of tension.

Peter rounded his eyes on Hermione, cold ice stole into his blue eyes.

"What do you mean kidnapped?"

"I really don't think that you require the Oxford English Dictionary definition of kidnapped, Peter. It is as it sounds. Some crazy old witch did some voodoo magic and quite literally disappeared in front of our eyes with Lu and Dagger," Edmund replied acerbically.

"Witch?" Peter parroted, the tension rolled off his body in waves.

Edmund finally looked uneasy, clearly, no one liked to anger the High King, "Yes, Peter. I don't know what's going on in Narnia, but I have a feeling that our new prisoner will be able to give us more answers since he was the one who had the original plan to meet this witch in person."

It took a second for Peter to catch onto who they were talking about.

"Ethan," Peter called to the tall, blond guard.

"Sire?" The man asked.

"Please fetch Caspian and Susan. I think they will want to be informed." The guard nodded and went on his way towards the South Wing. "And I better go tell Cass," Peter muttered, stepping away.

Edmund sighed deeply as Peter disappeared behind the doors.

"Reep, round together the troops will you?" Edmund asked his Knight tiredly.

"Certainly Sire," Reepicheep bowed lowly before he scampered up the curtains and into a small hole in the ceiling.

Running a hand through his wind-tousled hair, Edmund stepped out through the small alcove opposite Peter's bedroom and out onto a balcony. Suddenly finding herself standing alone in the dark corridor and well aware of the unnerving stares of the remaining guards, Hermione slowly followed Edmund. The biting wind caressed her cheeks and she shivered, pulling her robes tighter around her body as she mirrored Edmund's stance, leaning her elbows on the marble ledge, making sure to put distance between them. A few moments of silence passed between them before Edmund let out a small snort of derision.

"I can't even wrap my head around this," he whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

Hermione wondered if he meant for her to overhear, whether he was talking about them or was just lamenting on the events of the night. As his presence and proximity became more distance with every breath they drew, she sought for clarity in her cloudy thoughts. Eventually, her never-ending curiosity won over.

"Around what?" She asked softly.

His hauntingly grey eyes rose to meet hers and she found herself ensnared in his gaze. She couldn't put her finger on the emotions that were brewing in the storm that were his eyes, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from him.

"I don't even know anymore, I mean, magic? Witches? I thought it was all done with after Aslan killed the White Witch and now it's all just coming back like one reoccurring nightmare," Edmund whispered and his velvety voice carried through the night with the wind.

She felt slightly embarrassed, her cheeks flamed red, for assuming that he had been talking about them. But then he looked at her, as though he was staring into her soul and the emotion in his eyes became even more unclear and she wasn't so sure anymore. Hermione's eyes fluttered, mimicking the stutter of her heart, this was what she had vowed to avoid and look at her, not even several hours later, letting down her guard for him. Why was it that he could affect her so? What was it about him that made it so damn easy to throw down her walls, to forget everything around them and be lost in their own world?

"We'll find them," she said with quiet conviction, without breaking eye contact. She wasn't sure if she could look away even if she wanted to.

"Yes, we will," he replied steadily, placing his hand on top of hers, finally ending their teasing game of keeping distance. He caressed her knuckles, the smooth skin of her hand seemed to soothe him in some strange way. And she watched, perplexed and enraptured as the tension left his body as though someone had turned on a pipe and let out the pressure. Hermione's heart constricted and, if possible, her breath quickened.

Hermione stomped down a shiver that rose within her at the firmness in his tone. Edmund Pevensie was masculinity personified; from his strong, powerful, and what she assumed to be a very muscular body to his unfairly handsome face and baritone voice. She felt pathetic, but at the same time, felt the need to justify her schoolgirl-like reactions. She doubted that any woman would be able to withstand his charm after all wasn't it every little girl's dream to fall in love with a prince? Hermione flinched in panic as she acknowledged the fleeting thought.

Flushing, she turned her gaze away, reminding herself once more of the promise she had made. Edmund immediately recognised the change in her and felt his frustration rise. And she knew that he was frustrated with her. She couldn't really blame him, she wasn't being fair on either of them.

"Edmund, I can't- we can't-"

"And why not?" He asked her, pinning her down with an unavoidable stare.

She stared at him, open-mouthed, unable to form a response, not having expected the need to explain herself. Instead, she attempted to draw her hand away from him. Except, he responded by gripping her hand tighter, not hard enough to cause her hurt, but enough to keep her in place. Then, he stepped closer, naturally, she took a step back; they continued this dance until she found herself backed into the corner of the balcony, her back pressed against the half wall.

"So, King Peter and Princess Cassiopeia are an item huh?" She muttered after a moment of tense silence, looking anywhere but at him, a weak attempt at deflection.

Edmund smirked devilishly, "is that the best you can do?" one of his hands teasingly found her waist.

Hermione looked up at him with a scowl and then belatedly realized that she had fallen right into his trap.

"Now," Edmund sent her a dark promising look that set her insides on fire and he cupped her face with the hand that was not pinning her lower half against him.

She was not ignorant, she knew how to recognize desire and at the moment Edmund was sending ounces of it in her direction. She felt powerful, knowing that she somehow was desirable to this man, a King, who could have any woman in his Kingdom and beyond and yet was fixated with her and at the same time, she felt terrible. She was a terrible, terrible person because she wanted this and whilst she may have stopped him getting closer earlier on that night, she didn't think she had the strength to do so again.

"Give me a good reason for why you keep pushing me away and think that we can't be together and I will let you go," he muttered.

"Edmund," she whispered, closing her eyes as he kept his penetrating gaze on her. "We can't," she whispered feebly.

"Why?" He pressed.

"Because..." she paused as shuddered as he leaned closer and closer until forehead touched hers and that was her last straw.

With a deep growl, she shoved him away. Taken by surprise, Edmund stumbled back.

"Because! Because you confuse me, because I forget where I am when you're around me, because I can't think when you're too close, because I left someone behind who loved every fibre of me and I feel so guilty so damn guilty that I forget about them when I'm around you and because, ... because I desire you and it terrifies me because I'm falling harder than I've ever done before and I don't know how to cope with that!" She screamed.

Edmund stood frozen, startled by her admission. He watched as she heaved for breaths, her eyes were wide and filled with tears and Edmund quickly recognized the start of a panic attack. Immediately he was in front of her, holding her in his arms as she grasped for some semblance of normality, and he provided her the reassurance that she was still tethered to reality.

"Hermione," he whispered, resting his chin on top of her head, "it's okay, I've got you."

Her forehead rested against his shoulder as she calmed herself down with deep breaths, the emotions blooming inside her were overwhelming. For the first time, Edmund chose not to speak but to provide comfort and so he remained silent, running his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. In doing so, he had the time to think about what her words meant. She said she was falling for him, harder than ever before. Edmund had never felt his heart weigh as light as it did in that moment. He felt euphoric and victorious, it was a thrill that no other triumphant battle had ever brought to him and when she was ready to hear it, he would tell her how he felt. A sliver of fear remained in him at her possibly rejecting him again because of the hurricane of emotions he wrought in her, but he hoped that she would choose to be strong enough to venture out and discover something extraordinary.

"Let's go," Peter's jarring voice cut through the charged air.

Edmund and Hermione sprang apart looking like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Edmund forced down the disappointed groan that made it's way up his throat. He looked down at Hermione, who looked embarrassed, and kept her gaze anywhere but at him.

"Yes, let's go," he growled, pushing past his brother who looked torn between amusement and surprise.

Edmund heard Cassiopeia apologizing quietly to Hermione behind him for their interruption and suddenly wished for the ground to swallow him up. Damn Peter and his terrible timing.

"You do see the flaw in your idea, do you not?" Harry asked after several moments of uncomfortable silence.

Lord Sopespian kinked an eyebrow up at him, motioning for him to continue while Ron merely gaped at Harry's acceptance of the insanity surrounding them.

"You know, just merely the small, tiny, inconsequential fact that Narnia is a kingdom that is guarded by several armies and the castle is practically a fortress from what I hear," Harry deadpanned. Ron blinked in relief.

Sopespian stared at Harry with calculating eyes that radiated annoyance, it was so eerily reminiscent to that of Voldemort, that Harry had to look away. A small fear aroused in him over the thought of the man being a Legilimens, but having felt no physical intrusion on his mind, Harry brushed that idea away.

"That is why I secured some insurance," the Lord announced with a sinister smile, his eyes no longer on Harry.

Harry and Ron turned around at the sound of clanking chains and watched as another prisoner was brought in. It was a young girl. She looked about their age, though it was difficult to tell as her long blonde hair covered most of her face. She was staring at something on the ground and that was when both wizards took notice of the muzzled wolf that was trailing beside the girl at a pace so slow that Ron was convinced the animal was injured.

And then, she looked up. Her golden tresses fell back like curtains being drawn and bright electric blue irises shone through the shadows cast on her face. Her chin tilted with defiance and pride while her poise screamed of regality. In that instant, Ron knew that Lord Sopespian had just played the best attack on a chessboard that currently had the opposition in 'check'. There was no doubt in either of their minds, that they were gazing at a Queen; all that was missing on her person was a crown but she clearly didn't need one to express her presence.

They watched with dim surprise as the uninhibited fear in her eyes died like a flame and morphed into something of surprise and skepticism as she recognized their host.

"You," she asserted.

One word uttered through her lips painted the stark difference between the casual regency she exuded as opposed to what Lord Sopespian had failed to achieve throughout their entire encounter. Instinctively, Harry and Ron stood just that tiny bit straighter; they did not fail to notice the subtle change in the stance of the vampires around them. Still, if Harry wasn't so blinded by her allure, he would have caught onto the hint of ridicule in her tone.

"Ah, she remembers," Lord Sopespian mocked patronizingly.

"Well yes, quite hard to forget the face of a man who had the audacity to charge at Aslan. Though I must know, how ever did you manage to survive the onslaught of the river god?" She now stood to the left of both Harry and Ron.

Ron recoiled with surprise as he felt the wolf brush up against him. It did not escape anyone's notice that the Queen no longer had to be dragged into the room. Clearly, she did not see Lord Sopespian as a threat and everyone was aware of it.

Lord Sopespian snarled with outrage as he strode towards her in three quick steps and struck her across the face. A satisfied smile settled on his face as a delicate gasp escaped her lips as her head swung violently to the right at the force of his slap.

"Hey!" Harry argued stepping forwards and pushed the Lord away.

As the man stumbled back, Harry struggled against the hands that suddenly gripped his arms. Before he knew it, manacles appeared around his wrists, preventing him from striking out again.

"I see," Lord Sopespian muttered, sounding as though he was disappointed in Harry. "I had hoped that this meeting would go differently Mr. Potter, but it is clear to me that you do not see eye to eye with me. No matter. I'm sure I will be able to bring you around," the steely glint in his eye held a promise that Harry did not want to see come to light.

"Take them away," he waved his hand, "and put that mutt in a cell with the rest of the vermin."

Harry and Ron struggled against their captors as they were dragged away while Lucy merely walked with her head held high as though she was being guided by her own army of guards.

Life could not have turned out more mysterious or strange for Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

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A.N./ My, can writer's block be a big pain in the arse!

Apologies to all those who have been waiting patiently for another update from me. I suppose that's the problem when you don't already have upcoming chapters written in advance. A slightly shorter chapter than usual this time, but quality over quantity is what I hope I have achieved here. I have managed to pump out all the events that needed to happen in this chapter for the story to continue progressing so I am pleased with where I signed off on Chapter 15.

So, our antagonist has been introduced. Did any of you suspect that it would be Sopespian, or has my plot only just started to make a bit more sense to you all? Haha! I'm having so much fun with this story, as I finish writing this chapter I marvel at how easily it came out onto the page. Lucy sort of took a mind of her own as I was writing her, I hope you all like her characterisation. Believe it or not, she was the one who I've been struggling to write for months! I, for some reason, just couldn't picture her in my head and therefore her words and actions became impossible to write and almost fake when I tried to imitate it. And without her, this chapter would be incomplete. Thankfully, I had a burst of inspiration today and it was as though Lucy just clicked in my mind and the flow of writing became easier than it had been for months. It's difficult when you have so many characters to play with to give them all relevant amounts of page time without forcing them to be in scenes for the sake of it. For the moment I am happy with where all my characters are in terms of plot and development.

Also, I do have a partner in mind for Lucy but I want to hear your thoughts, do you want to see her with Ron or with Harry. It will be interesting to hear what you think, given the knowledge you have so far of the characters in this world. More Harry, Ron & Lucy interaction in the dungeons is on its way. Things have only just begun.

I know where I want this story to end, have always known since the day that I started writing it; but over the last fifteen chapters, I have fallen in love with the characters and the world that I have created. So I think, once I've completed this story, I will follow up with a collection on one-shots so you get further snippets into their lives. But for now, this story is nowhere near from being completed, so I best get back to it!

A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed and liked this story over the past few months. You gave me the necessary push to keep coming back to this chapter and editing it with small ounces of inspiration every time. I hope you haven't given up on the story and have returned to support me and Moments in Time!

Thanks to: 0ttoke, lottiemoreland13, Guest #1, Goldenpot, jojojotrunks, NeverlandFunhouse, whysosiriusumbridge, QueenVulca, Guest #2, HestiaForever, Victoria, Says-the-Slytherin, Sameen Hadiya, craaazyaboutMalfoy, OOANDISAOO, AliceinWonderland13, SeaweedBrain, twztdwildcat and a SPECIAL thanks to Parsi who made the effort to reach out to me via PM to encourage me to keep writing!

P.S. Who went to see Beauty and the Beast? I've seen it twice and it was amazing!

P.P.S. If anyone is willing to be a Beta for this story, please get in touch. I try my best to edit and check my chapters for spelling and grammar but it would be great to have a second pair of eyes to double check my work. Even still, I know that there is still some scope for improvement in the way that I phrase things sometimes and I would love to get advice on how I can structure my sentences better. PM me if you are interested!

Sending my love to you all for your support, (.;) xx