𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟐𝟐 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤

The group wasted no time in rushing out of the tent, Ophelia making Vivian grab ahold of Hermione's hand, Hermione grabbing Ron and Ophelia grabbing Harry and Vivian in both of her hands, they could not split up.

The first thing Ophelia noticed from stepping out of the tent was the heat, it was so hot, almost as if she had stepped into Tartarus. The noise of the crowd was deafening, she could hear screaming, shouting, chanting and bangs left and right, it was completely disorienting.

Amidst the chaos, Arthur managed to shout over the crowd "Get back to the portkey everybody, and stick together. Fred, George... Ginny is your responsibility." Arthur took off into the crowds, disappearing from sight, it made her stomach sink seeing such a warm teddy bear of a man acting so valiant, they were truly in danger.

The group of teenagers ran hand in hand trying to navigate the maze of burning tents, screaming hooligans and attempting to avoid the terrifying men in masks that had a murderous streak in them, just as the group rounded a corner another group of fleeing individuals barreled through the line of teenagers, separating Harry from the group and in the brief moment Ophelia turned around to see him being dragged further away from her grasp she was cut off from Vivian who screamed her name as she disappeared into the smoke and the crowd.

Now completely on her own, surrounded by pure terror, every bone in her body telling her to stand her ground and find Harry and the two of them can get back to the portkey together.

She armed herself with her wand and ducked and dived from collapsing tent poles, it was almost impossible to see in a foot in front of her from the thick black smoke that was incredibly and unbearably hot. 

Suddenly a tent collapsed to her right and a man came charging at her, pulling the two of them to the ground.

Falling to the ground with a oomph, the two of them tried to untangle themselves.

"Get off of me!" She cried, trying to push his hulking body of of hers.

"They're here! Are you ready?" He said to her manically, his knee cramming into her side painfully as he looked truly insane above her.

"GET OFF OF ME!" she roared, wanting the sweaty and blood covered man.

"Are you ready for the devil himself?" He cried, and she flailed and writhed beneath him, and in his effort to untangle himself from Ophelia's panicking form, he accidentally broke her nose in his dash to scramble away, clutching her now gushing nose she watched the man run away, she could hear him mumbling to himself as he tried to escape before there was a jet of green light and he fell with a thud to the ground 4 feet away from her, completely lifeless.

His eyes were empty and gone, the very man that once lived, breathed and walked about this earth as a free-man was reduced to nothing more than another victim of death eaters. In the quickest moment she had seen death itself she managed to hide in the smouldering cotton of a tent as the death eaters walked ominously by without a thought to check the tent.

Then she heard it, a child crying in the grave silence of the campsite.

Oh god, please no.

She scrambled on her front, dragging her body through soot, mud and blood to find the poor child, she needed to find them before they did. Managing to pull herself up onto her feet in a clearing, following the crying she saw the child and her heart broke.

It was a little girl, probably no older than 4 years old standing in between a tent and a broken flagpole, her pink pyjamas had been singed and dirtied with soot and the teddy she was clutching in her little fist was smouldering. Ophelia dashed for the little girl and picked her up without a second thought, holding the child's head close to her chest as she hid with the sobbing child by a blackened carriage that looked to have been a stall not an hour before. Quietly she ushered the child to be silent, as she crouched down in the mud, she rocked the child who still cried, she decided to very quietly talk to her.