joelle | d.m

75 | metal rod

June, 1995.

The first thing Joey heard was the sound of those damn trumpets playing lively music.

Then came the terrorizing pain that seared every inch of her entire being. She cried out a loud strained scream as she dropped onto the grass, back first.

The blades in her shoulder blade dug deeper into her skin and nicked bone whereas the one in her calf shifted and widened the cut. Her wounded flesh throbbed. Blood pooled out. Her broken arm shook violently.

Her shrieking cries and heart-wrenching screams of undeniable pain caused the trumpets to silence. She let go of Fleur's hand and the fucking Triwizard Cup to quickly flip onto her front, propping herself up on only her good arm.

She was gasping for air as neverending tears obscured any chance of clear vision. She choked and sputtered through her cries.

A hand closed around her left shoulder. "Miss Honrada, are you alright? What's happened?" Dumbledore's voice poured out in controlled calmness.

Then a cry. "Fleur!" Maxime's scream echoed throughout the area. "She's— She's dead!"

Joey still failed to clear her sight. To calm herself. To rip her eyes from the grass she sobbed into. She didn't know who was around her or what was going on.

She wasn't even crying in sadness for Fleur—no offence to her—but because of the unbearable agony she was in.

Everything was hurting beyond any existing scale of pain.

_____

Draco's eyes snapped up from his rings when he heard a whirl.

Just like most people sitting around the stands, he shot up from his seat at the top row and tried to see what was going on.

The first thing he heard were cries. Cries from Joey. Not cries of victory, but cries that made knots form in his gut. Her cry was so piercingly sharp that it was like a shard of glass slicing his heart. They were feral and frightening.

The trumpets' vivacious music died down. The entire audience gasped in unison, and he only then realized what they gasped at. Fleur's dead, unmoving body that was limp on the grass.

He saw Joey flip quickly onto her stomach and her body writhed. She was covered in dirt and he swore he saw blood on her back. Her tracksuit was ripped and her face was messy with her sobs.

His heart began to hammer in his chest in worry. Sweat clammed up within the lines of his palms as he quickly scooted by everyone in the row to get down to the grass.

Devonte, Nayun, and Imani were already swarming around Joey by the time Draco moved his way through and down the stands.

Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Hagrid, Crouch, and Moody were gathered around her as well. Madam Maxime was hunched over Fleur, sobbing.

Rita Skeeter was trying to worm her way through to get photos and statements. Other professors were trying to keep students from coming out of the stands—to keep their distances.

"Take it out! Take it out!" Joey was screaming at the top of her lungs and her voice strangled around her words. She cradled her right arm to her chest. She was on her knees, body folded over as she visibly convulsed. "Take it out right now!"

Dumbledore knelt next to her, and was quick to take out his wand. He mumbled something below his breath and Joey's body slowly became limp. She fell onto her left side, arms and legs limp. Eyes were closed, breathing was steady, and lips flattened. Tears stained her face and her red face soon soothed.