Cassiopeia Hope Black is the daughter of the crazed mass murderer, Sirius Black.
Follow Cassie through her teenage years where she battles love, drama, and Voldemort.
Get ready for some twists.
I just want to say that I wrote this in the eighth gr...
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Chapter 25: The Dark Mark
"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling with Sirius," Arthur implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."
Arthur looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.
They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Arthur agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.
"There's no one like Krum. He's like a bird the way he rides the wind. He's more than an athlete, he's an artist," said Ron.
"I think your in love, Ron," said Ginny.
"Viktor I love you, Viktor I do!" sang the twins.
"When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" joined in everyone else
"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," said Fred.
"Stop! Stop, that's not the Irish, we need to get out of here," said Arthur in a hurry.
Cassie did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Harry at her heels.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.
Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.
A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Cassie squinted at them. . . . They didn't seem to have faces. . . . Then she realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.
High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.
"Oh, no!" gasped Cassie.
"Let's get back to the portkey," said Harry, grabbing her hand.
Two of the figures were very small. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Cassie saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.
