Dark Magic

The Aftermath

The roaring crowd boomed as Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's Seeker, caught the golden snitch; bringing the best game I had ever witnessed to a halt. However, due to Ireland scoring more than enough points even with the boy catching the snitch, the green team caught the win. The Quidditch World Cup came to an end with Ireland reigning victorious. The Bulgarian team's Veela mascots danced beautifully, cheering their team even in the midst of their failure; the boys in our box watching them fanatically. I caught Draco watching our group as we rose from our seats, screaming and jumping for joy with the rest of the stadium. However, the Malfoy's merely remained in their seat, clapping and containing their excitement well with nothing more than a smirk and a nod.

"What did he catch the snitch for? He ended it when Ireland were 160 points ahead, the idiot!" Ron cursed in his red colours, but continued to cheer, nonetheless. Fred and George were shrieking, over the moon that a bet they had placed earlier was won and they would be in short receipt of a rather hefty win.

The two teams made their way up to our box, exchanging shortly with one another before Ireland was presented with their cup, holding it up for the world to see as the stadium roared to life, once again. The bar was growing increasingly rowdy as it neared the end of the evening; myself and Ginny feeling tired as it neared midnight and Mr Weasley walked our group back to the tents.

"Didn't you think that Viktor Krum was handsome?" Hermione asked, appearing from her room as the three of us gathered around the stove for warmth, the wind causing the tent to whistle with the continuing celebrations outside. "He's way too old, Hermione." Ginny tutted, resting her feet on the arm of the chair.

"Ah, that's right. You've already got your eye on someone else." Hermione's statement caught me off guard as I turned to find a blushing red-head. "Who?" I asked.

The girl averted her gaze nervously onto the ground, "Oh-uh...No-one you know." I scoffed at her flustered nature, "Ginny Weasley, you terrible liar!" Throwing one of my remaining bits of popcorn at her, Hermione burst into a fit of laughter as the young Weasley swatted the kernel away, the screams from outside increasing and drawing our attention to them in the midst of our happy moment.

A chill suddenly caused my spine to shudder, causing me to instinctively pull my shirt closer to my chest I made my way to the entrance of our tent.

Before I had a chance to drawn the curtain, however, Mr Weasley burst inside with the rest of the group of boys in tow. Out of his squabbling to get us outside, I managed to decipher a few words, "Deatheaters...Muggles...Meet at the Portkey." Feeling myself being shoved towards Harry, Ron and Hermione, we fled the tent and began running towards the outskirts of the forest. 

Managing to catch a small glimpse, I watched as Mr Weasley fled towards a group of masked men that were levitating the Muggle Groundskeeper and his family into the air, humiliating them mercilessly. Others attacked the tents, setting some alight and emptying the others of their content.

"Em, Come On!" Harry shrieked, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the forest surrounding the campground. We hid behind a tree, watching as the masked wizards continued to taunt and humiliate the muggles, Ministry officials beginning to arrive at the campsite in attempt to subdue anyone causing harm. The campsite was frantic, people scuffling over one another in desperation to get to the tree lines with their families. Other witches and wizards joined in on the torture; whether that be due to purist beliefs or drunken mishap, as my brother held me in his arms.

"Psst! Potter!" I glanced over Harry's shoulder, my eyes finding a pair of icy blue ones as they stalked towards us. "Are you alright? You must be freezing." Draco's voice was soft, careful, as he removed his black blazer and placed it over my shoulders. But my shivering was not due to the August night but the fear coursing through my veins at a rapid rate; that I could compare to the night Harry and I fought the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Why are they doing this?" Hermione's voice was weak as she looked out at the events unfolding back at the camp site. Draco Malfoy merely scoffed, narrowing his eyes a little onto the young witch, "You clearly don't know that much, do you, Granger?" His gaze averted onto me now. "And I'd be careful if I were you. If one of them sees her, you'll be sorry."

"What's that supposed to mean!?" Ron exploded, lunging for Draco as Harry fought to hold him back. Malfoy backed away, not wishing to engage in a fight as he held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, is all. Your father more than anyone should know what Death Eaters are capable of, Weasley."

I knew, then, exactly what Draco was talking about; for I had read about Death Eaters and their involvement in the first wizarding war on previous occasions; on my numerous visits to the library. I felt a cold wave suddenly overwhelm me, feeling momentarily thankful of Draco's jacket over my shoulders. "Death Eaters?" I repeated, my voice coming out shakier than I had anticipated.

"And I suppose your father is one of them, Malfoy?" Harry's voice spat in disgust, causing Draco to glare daggers at my brother in retort, "Well if they were, I wouldn't exactly tell you, would I?"

I took a sudden step away from Draco, anger and hatred boiling within me at his notion. "What?" My voice hitched in slight disbelief, hoping that his insinuation was false and I had mistaken him. Draco's look of anger quivered, the realisation suddenly dawning on him as guilt crept into his eyes. He took a step towards me, no doubt, in attempt to explain, "Em, I-"

A sudden burst of green shot through the air, comparable to that of a firework, from the direction of the campsite. But this was no firework; as the light dispersed into green smoke under the moonlight; forming the shape of a skull with a serpent emitting from its mouth. But this spell-casting caused the masked wizards to disperse, fleeing the scene as Ministry Officials began to interrogate witnesses. 

Unfortunately, they were unable to detain any of the masked men but they did find the culprit for the Dark Mark that had been cast into the night sky; Voldemort's mark. The same mark that I witnessed be brandished onto the left arm of a Lucius Malfoy when I delved too deep into his memories. It was the house-elf Harry had been speaking to at the beginning of the Quidditch World Cup. Her master was Barty Crouch Sr, the head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. 

I watched Draco as his parents eventually arrived, his mother holding him close to her chest as tears of relief swirled in her eyes. Making my way over to the family, I removed Draco's jacket and called out to him, "Draco?" The boy turned swiftly out of his Mother's embrace, turning to face me with momentary fear in his eyes. "I'll uh...See you at school." I breathed, to which he nodded, taking his coat back.

But this was all a distraction, allowing me a brief millisecond to flit into his father's mind in search of answers. Lucius Malfoy hadn't been a part of the riot; that I had no doubt about. But he was a Death Eater. "See you at school, Emerald." He smiled, and this I knew was sincere. With one more nod of respect to his slightly a gasp parents, I turned on my heel and made my way back over to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Mr Weasley found us in a clearing, along with the twins, Ginny and the older Weasley brothers; before we made our way back to our tent; thankfully, unaffected by the fires. Packing as swiftly as we could, we then journeyed back to the Portkey and headed for the Weasley's Burrow, where Mrs Weasley wound fuss over us all for the next few weeks before term resumed...