𝘝𝘖𝘐𝘊𝘌𝘚. harry potter world ¹

𝘹𝘹𝘷. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬

     THE NIGHT OF THE MATCH WAS ER, —EVENTFUL. The match was something that Rory hadn't ever seen, way different from any match at Hogwarts. Her self from three years ago wouldn't be caught dead in the middle of waves of Quidditch supporters. But there she was, being swept from her feet by the Veelas and laughing at the Leprechauns. The match finalized with the Irish (the team Rory supported) winning, even though Victor Krum had caught the snitch, making the twins win a bet with Ludo Bagman.

     The girls had a tent for themselves, which meant that nothing had changed that much but for the fact that instead of Ginny's room they were sleeping in an old tent. It was enough for them, it had a bathroom and two bunk beds (the empty one gathered all their bags and was as messy as they had left Ginny's room back at the Burrow). 

     The three of them returned basically crawling to the tent, their legs burning and their eyes bloodshot due to the tiredness. Yawning, Rory wished them a night full of sleep in which she hoped they dreamt with angels and puppies (Ginny then threw a pillow at her, she liked to play chaser, so she had a good aim). 

     Rory was ready to encounter whatever was the thing that wanted to attack her in tonight's sleep, but she didn't have the chance and was shaken awake by a frantic Hermione. She was mouthing something, and for a couple of seconds of confusion, she thought that either she was deaf or Hermione had lost her voice.

     Reality was that the noise coming from the outside of the tent was so powerful that she couldn't even understand what she was being told. 

     Wand in her boot and a cozy jacket later, she found herself in the middle of a panicking crowd, they were desperate; pushing, shoving, screaming, and pulling to get away from whatever was causing their fear. She took a glimpse of it, and wished she hadn't. Masked people were torturing muggles. 

     They were torturing muggles. Those masks in which they were hiding their crimes were so familiar to her, as if she had seen it lying around but didn't pay it enough attention. 

     Rory was in complete shock. Her brain was fuzzy and she felt as though she was moving in slow motion, her feet weren't on the ground, it was like walking through clouds. Waving arms to get them out of the way and kicking them with your legs to go faster. 

     Hermione was grabbing her hand and was pulling, trying to get away from the crowd, they were leaving the light and slowly entering the darkness of the woods. Far away from the commotion, somewhere they could be safe. Where Hermione could be safe.

     "Ron, where are you? Oh, this is stupid — lumos!" Hermione illuminated their path with their wand, Rory couldn't recognize anything but Ron's lanky figure sprawled on the ground. 

     "Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily and getting to his feet again.

     "Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them, Draco Malfoy's voice to be exact.

     That seemed to bring Rory back from fighting clouds and to get her own wand; the shining light illuminated his form, he had his arms folded and was slightly leaning in a tree. Probably enjoying the show, she thought to herself. What made her shoulders relax finally was the absence of both of her siblings. 

     Ron cursed.

     "Language, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?" He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite.

     Rory clutched her head, from what she was gathering nobody had died yet. and hadn't had any premonitory dreams with the events playing behind them. No voices?  (No voices.)