Letters I Can't Send

19 (Year 4)

Year 4

Y/n's POV

People are moving all around me waving flags with bright face paint, hats and gadgets. Vendors persuading potential buyers to purchase an item, men and women high up in the air, balancing on stilts, waving to us below.

Quinn, her family and I make our way through the crowd, smiling and laughing at the sights to be seen. It's the Quidditch World Cup.

Quinn and I decided not to pick a team to root for, and instead just see what happens. Live life on edge for once.

The Bronny's were so kind as to let me leave their home early, so that I could spend the last couple weeks of summer holiday with Quinn—that way I'd be able to go to the World Cup with her and her family.

Her little brother, Jase, seems to be a bit obsessed with me. He is nine years old and loves everything quidditch. He grabs my sleeve as we push past people in the crowd on our way to the stadium. I think it's cute. Quinn wants him to lay off—which is understandable because he is always with us and trying to get my attention.

"Oh, let go of her, will you, Jase?" she says, glaring at her brother. He quickly releases my sleeve, almost seeming afraid of his sister. I feel a bit bad for him.

"It's alright, Quinn, I don't mind," I try to reassure, but Jase doesn't take my sleeve again.

With the topic immediately forgotten, we arrive at the stadium holding the World Cup. It's far bigger than I had imagined, reaching to incredible heights—I doubt I could even see the top of it.

"Mum and dad got an extraordinary box this year," Quinn says excitedly. "Next to the minister's box," she grins like it's be the best news she's ever received. But I'm still trying to figure things out here in London. I'm still not totally sure who or what the minister even is, and trying to understand the slang and accents of this place.

I just smile and follow the Carson family up the metallic structure of the stadium and to the box "next to the minister's".

"I wanna sit next to Y/n!" Jase says, practically jumping up and down. I sit down in the second row back and he takes one of the seats next to mine. Quinn occupies the other.

I begin to get settled and make a chat a bit with Quinn and her—very hospitable and generous—parents, when I hear the voice I haven't heard since the last day of term on the Hogwarts Express.

"Father and I are in the minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself," I sneak a peak over the railing of our box and see him. He's bragging to Harry Potter and the Weasley's, he looks proud.

I look over at Quinn. She's watching me expectantly, like I'm about to do or say something, I give her a look. "He'll be in the box next to ours," she whispers harshly to me. My stomach drops. I haven't seen him in three months and it's still too soon to be seeing him—probably because I wasn't expecting him to be here and I didn't think I'd see him until next week. Maybe he won't notice us sitting in the box next to his, and maybe I can just ignore him.

I hear a small grunt and my eyes flicker back over to where Draco is standing, next to—who I assume is—his father. Same platinum blonde hair and obviously cold attitude.

Draco is clutching his side, I hand laying lightly under his black suit jacket. His father is holding a long walking stick with a silver snake on its top. He must have hit his son with it. Bastard.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and observe the many witches and wizards in the stands. Quinn notices my sudden discomfort and I see a smirk creep up her lips from the corner of my eye.

"Well, if it isn't Y/n Ellis and Quinn Carson." I hear him say from somewhere next to us.

I try not to look at him, but I give in quickly. "Well, if it isn't Draco Malfoy," I say and give him one of my best glares. One I've reserved just for him.

He stands with his hands in his pockets, a smirk forming on his features. "It's been a while," he adds.

"Yes, it has." This conversation seems to be going nowhere—but I don't have much interest in it anyway. It doesn't help that Quinn is looking eagerly between the two of us, grinning wildly. I could smack her—with love, of course.

Then all of the sudden, fireworks boom and green sparks fly in the air—the first team has arrived. A giant, dancing leprechaun in the air catches all our attentions, as the Irish fly into the stadium. The crowd cheers and whistles—Quinn and I clap along happily. Jase is still studying Draco, in the box next to ours. He's got a mildly confused look on his nine-year-old face as he stares at the blonde boy, but quickly diverts his attention to the quidditch teams after Draco gives him a dirty look.

Then the Bulgarians arrive. Their team, dressed in reds, soars around the stadium, showcasing one boy in particular. The crowd starts chanting his name, "Krum! Krum!" he's the seeker for their team. I see a few girls around me clutch their chests as if they're swooning for him. I roll my eyes.

Cornellius Fudge (the minister, I'm pretty sure) makes introductions for the teams and lets the match finally begin.

..........

Quinn and I are walking back to her tent after the match, laughing and messing around, talking about the game and all the girls swooning over Victor Krum.

"Oh, they looked ridiculous!" I laugh. "He isn't even that good-looking,"

Quinn laughs along with me, mocking the girls by pretending to faint. I laugh harder.

All of the sudden, a boom rang out over the swarm of people heading back to their tents. Quinn and I look around for the source of the sound, just as everyone is, when I spot a fire in the distance.

Another boom, and fire.

People start screaming and running for safety, though I'm not quite sure what's happening. I look around frantically for Quinn. I see she's some feet away, clutching Jace's arm and yelling at her parents through the noise and chaos of everyone's fear.

I start to run toward Quinn but someone catches my hand. I swiftly turn to see Draco, with frantic eyes, staring at me. "Come with me," I can barely hear him over the chaotic environment, but he pulls my hand and runs with me, dodging little fires and ruble. Everyone is heading in all different directions, most going to the woods, and that's where he's taking me.

"What's happening?" I yell over the sound.

He tightens his grip on my hand as we run to the forest. He doesn't respond.

He finally manages to drag me into the forest and there, he looks me straight in my eyes, grips my shoulders hard, and says, "Whatever you do, don't try to be the hero and go back out there. Stay right here or get as far away from here as possible. Do you understand?" he says firmly.

I stutter, so flustered and confused. "I-I—what is going on? Malfoy—what is happening—I need to find Quinn—"

"Do you understand." It's no question anymore.

"I—yes—I understand—" I say frantically. Him telling me not to go anywhere, makes me want to disobey his rules for me even more. Anything to make him miserable, right?

With that, he pats my shoulders and runs off back into the commotion of whatever is going on out there. For a moment, I don't move. I'm stunned. Confused. Then I run full speed back towards the fire and screaming. Maybe I am a little reckless.

a/n: omg so sorry haven't posted in a while...I was grieving over our loss of the election and had other little personal things. But YEAR FOUR that's exciting.

(also the smacking comment was a joke, just so you know. Y/n would never smack her best friend =])