Yay for the temporary internet folder. Though it does fill an unfair amount of my hard drive, it is good for finding things back. Here you are:

~

Hermione was wondering around in the streets of a small village called Freeromers, looking around, in the shops and restaurants. They sold unusual objects (and food), things that Hermione had never seen or even read about (and this was saying something). She even saw a shop that sold swords and shields.

Strange, she thought to herself. Who buys swords and shields nowadays in the muggle or wizarding world?

But what she had found stranger was that there were creatures that she had read about, but never actually seen. There were Fauns, Minotaurs, Cyclopes, Giants and talking animals walking carefree in the streets. She even saw Centaurs trotting about, chatting with some of the giants, which Hermione found quite alarming, being used to the now vicious herd in the Forbidden Forest.

Despite her being the brightest witch her age, she had no idea that this town was where the wizarding world and another magical world met. If you carried on walking through it, you would end up in a world called Narnia. The wizarding world and Narnia have been fighting over this town since it was discovered, but attacks were so frequent and the village so tiny, that nobody bothered to write about it.

Hermione had just entered a bookshop at the edge of the town when she heard a horn being blown. Everyone rushed around in panic, but to her astonishment, they all came back and lined up at the border of the town, everyone carrying a weapon of some sort, swords, bow and arrows, axes. She even saw some of the inhabitants pull out their wands, ready to fight, but against whom, Hermione didn’t know.

She approached the window, about to pull her own wand out, when she felt a hand snake across her right cheek and close on her mouth, preventing her from making any noise and another one, creeping over her flat stomach, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Don’t worry, doll face,” whispered a male voice with a Spanish accent in her ear, making her shiver in disgust. “I won’t hurt you, if you please me.”

Hermione closed her eyes in fear as unwelcome images formed in her head. With her arms pinned to her sides by the Spanish stranger, she was unable to reach her wand. She was defenceless and at the mercy of a stranger. It was worse than facing the Death Eaters; at least she knew what she was up against and could defend herself.

“Caspian!” called an English voice curtly. The Spaniard sighed with frustration.

“What do you want, Peter?” The Spaniard who Hermione assumed was Caspian replied, saying the last word in a mocking tone.

“We’ve won the battle,” the English answered, not at all put out by the boys’ tone. “What are your orders?”

“You’re High King, you give the orders.” Caspian replied rudely, pulling Hermione closer to him, resting his chin on her head, as he looked out the window his back facing Peter. The girl squirmed by he held her tighter.

“You ordered this battle for this village. You’re in command.” Peter retorted.

“Fine.” Caspian turned around; hand still clasped over Hermione’s mouth whose eyes were wide with fear and walked out the door after he had pushed Hermione into the chest of a blonde haired boy who she assumed was High King Peter. Peter caught her as she stumbled and almost fell to the floor.

“Don’t forget to disarm her!” shouted Caspian in a haughty voice.

Peter sighed and muttered:

“Git.”

Hermione smiled weakly despite the situation.

“You okay?” Peter asked, concerned. Hermione nodded her head though she shivered when she thought about what Caspian had said: “I won’t hurt you, if you please me.” What had he meant? She went pale and shivered at the thoughts running throw her head.

“What’s your name?” asked Peter, softly, knowing Caspian would’ve of probably said things, none too reassuring. She didn’t answer. He sighed and asked her for her wand. She seemed surprised that he knew she was a witch, but handed over her wand, though with great reluctance.

“Ed,” Peter turned towards a younger boy with dark hair, “take her to my tent for the time being. I’ve gotta check on Caspian before he does something stupid.”

Peter walked out, leaving Hermione and this Ed alone. Hermione tried to figure out want was going on. Peter had said ‘battle’ and ‘orders’. Was there a war going on here? And to his tent? Oh well, better his than Caspian’s. Not that she had much of a choice.

“C’mon,” said the boy. Hermione didn’t move. The boy sighed. “If you want to stay here, fine. But Caspian will be back and you’ll end up regretting you decision. Trust me.”

“Never trust anyone who says ‘trust me’.” Hermione couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t going to change her ways because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

What am I doing in this town anyway? She cursed herself. She had planned to head straight to Australia to find her parents, now that Muggles were safe in the wizarding as Voldemort no longer lived.

“Well, you don’t have much choice, anyway.” Ed interrupted her thoughts. It’s either Peter or Caspian. Personally, I recommend Peter, not because he’s my brother or anything, but Caspian has quite a reputation when it comes to women and he’s only 18.”

“Okay, okay. Stop there!”

Ed led her out of the village and towards a ring of tents that circled a great fire. He marched up to a scarlet tent with the head of a lion drawn on it. It reminded Hermione of Gryffindor and she felt a little more at ease. He opened the ‘door’ for her and let her in first. She obliged with a slight look of surprise on her face.

And they say chivalry’s dead.

“Please don’t try to run away,” said the dark haired boy. “Cause you will be caught and we’ll have to bring you back in here and tie you up. If you’re lucky. And it will be wise to stay in the tent until Peter comes back.”

Hermione took a look around the tent. It was quite large, with the sun shining through the canvas; it cast a red glow around the room.

The tent was filled of interesting objects. He found a small stack of books near the bed, behind them, a small rag doll looking like Caspian with pins stuck in it. Hermione chuckled at the sight of it and opened a book.

After a few minutes, she realised what she was doing in the tent. She was a prisoner of war.