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This was not what I wanted. Not at all. Not right after the world cup.

I stood frozen, watching the chaos unfold around me. The air was filled with the sounds of people screaming, running in every direction as flames flickered in the distance. Dark shapes darted between the tents, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach as I recognized them for what they were—Death Eaters.

Again. Again, they were here for Harry.

My blood rushed hot through my veins, a strange mix of anger and emptiness swirling inside me. There was something terrifyingly familiar about this chaos, something that made my stomach churn. I looked around wildly, my mind racing. People were running in every direction, pushing, shoving—trying to get away.

But I wasn't focused on them. My eyes were scanning the crowd for one person.

"Harry!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the noise around me. My breath caught in my throat as I pushed forward, shoving past the terrified people fleeing for safety.

And then I saw him—his black hair messy, glasses slightly askew as he looked around with wide, panicked eyes. I rushed toward him, grabbing his hand just as Mr. Weasley yelled to the group.

"Everyone, split into groups of three! We need to move!"

But I wasn't listening. Not really. My only thought was to keep Harry safe.

Before Harry could respond, I tightened my grip on his wrist, pulling him away from the main path of the fleeing crowd. "This way!" I shouted, desperate to get us out of the chaos. We were pushed, pulled, and tugged as people collided with us, but I didn't let go of him. Not yet.

We ran as fast as we could through the madness, dodging bodies and trying to avoid the growing flames that licked at the edges of the tents. My heart pounded in my ears, but I refused to let fear consume me. I had to stay focused. I had to keep Harry with me.

But then it happened.

Someone collided with me from the side, and I was sent sprawling to the ground. My hands scraped the dirt as I fell, and the impact knocked the wind out of me. For a brief moment, everything was a blur of movement and noise—my vision swimming with shadows and fire.

And when I looked down at my hands, they were empty.

No.

"Harry!" I called out again, my voice breaking as I struggled to get back to my feet. My heart raced with fear as I searched for him, scanning the frantic crowd. But he was gone. My fingers clenched into fists as I tried to steady myself, my breath coming in short gasps.

I had lost him.

Fear gripped my chest, a cold sensation that made me feel like I couldn't breathe. I searched the ground around me, trying to avoid the legs of people trampling past me. But still, no sign of Harry. My throat tightened as panic surged inside me. What if he was hurt? What if the Death Eaters found him?

I was still crouched on the ground when someone barreled over me, their foot catching my side. I grunted in pain, wincing as I struggled to regain my balance. The crowd was thinning now, most people having fled to safety, but I was still stuck in the middle of it all, searching desperately for my brother.

Then I felt it—someone grabbed my hand, their grip firm and steady. I gasped, looking up sharply, ready to fight whoever had grabbed me. But when I looked into their eyes, my fear eased—just slightly.

It wasn't Harry. But it was Draco.

"Madeline," he said breathlessly, his pale eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright?"

I stared at him, still trying to process the fact that he was here. "Draco?" I managed to gasp, my voice trembling. "What—?"

"I saw you fall," Draco said quickly, his grip on my hand tightening. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

For a moment, I was too stunned to respond. Draco Malfoy— who had also come here for the world cup—was standing here, surrounded by chaos and fire, and he was worried about me.

"Harry," I finally managed to say, my voice thick with fear. "I lost him—"

"We'll find him," Draco said, his voice calm and steady despite everything. "But right now, we need to move."

I hesitated for a second longer, torn between the panic clawing at my chest and the urgency in Draco's voice. Finally, I nodded, allowing him to pull me to my feet. My legs were shaking as we started moving again, but Draco kept a firm grip on my hand, guiding me through the thinning crowd.

As we moved, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry. But the flames and shadows made it impossible to see anything clearly. Fear gnawed at me, and my heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest.

Draco tugged on my hand, pulling me forward, his face set with determination. "He's fine" he repeated, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of chaos around us. "I promise."

I nodded again, trying to push down the fear that threatened to overwhelm me. For now, all I could do was trust Draco and hope that Harry was alright.

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