Mon amour ▪️🔹Fleur Delacour

Turned tables

Amare and Cedric were cheering with all their might at the Irish win.

leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but they could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

Everyones eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, Amare saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge. Amare and Cedric were amazed by the cup that they both hoped one day they could hold.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the top box went the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd around Amare was applauding appreciatively; Amare and Cedric watched the top box with their omnioculars as well as the rest of the crowd.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Amare noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground, she didn't blame him she was too much more graceful on a broom. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Amare had given up on clapping due to her numb hands and had started to just smack Cedric.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

It was finally time to go. Amare and Cedric again just followed Amos since they hadn't been paying enough attention on where the exit was.

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 tent, neither teen felt like sleeping at all especially given the level of noise around them, Amos was also gone on patrol so they didn't need to turn in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match. One of the only things that they could agree on is that the Wronski Feint was one of the best moves.

They had even started chasing each other around the tent pretending to do the plays. Both ended up on their asses more the once.

The two were having much fun not even noticing the rise in commotion outside.

Amos hurried inside looking panicked.

"Thank Merlin! Cedric - Amare - come on now, this is urgent!"

The two teens sobered up quickly from their fun now they could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. They could hear screams, and the sound of people running. Neither teen had ever seen the man so panicked.

"Quickly! Grab your wands and get to the forest I'll find you there" Amos said hurrying out of the tent.

Amare had never been so thankful that she had turned seventeen in may.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, they 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. Amare squinted at them....They didn't seem to have faces....Then she realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. It's as if she had just been cursed in the stomach when she realized who they were, the masks, hurting muggles, the dark, death eaters. Amare had started to move with more hast, trying to get Cedric to go faster

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. 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 Amare saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent Amare could see a man that they had passed when sighing in, she was almost glad she didn't know his name. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped the women upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Cedric muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick...."

Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the family was coming ever closer.

The crowd beneath the family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the family fall.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air.

As Amare hurried along she felt Cedrics arm get pulled from her. In a haste she looked around for her friend only to come up empty handed.