Death Eaters

Chapter 36: Reaper's Waiting

Everyone stood assembled outside Number Four, Privet Drive, the air thick with tension. The line of broomsticks gleamed faintly in the lamplight. Hagrid sat astride his enormous motorbike, its engine rumbling softly, while Harry perched beside him in the sidecar. The others were mounted on their brooms, wands at the ready.
As I stepped out into the cool night, Mad-Eye Moody stomped towards me, his magical eye whirling.

"A sip o' Polyjuice Potion won't hurt a bit, eh?" he growled, offering the flask.

"No! I'm not letting you do that!" Harry cut in sharply, his voice rising above the hum of the motorbike.

All eyes turned toward us. The air grew awkwardly still. But time was slipping away, and there was no room for argument. I met Moody's mismatched gaze with a faint grin, then raised my wand and gave a quick flick toward my face. The familiar charm I'd used before at the Burrow took effect at once — my features twisted and blurred, shifting until the same altered face stared back at them. Moody gave a disapproving tsk, muttering under his breath as he swung himself onto his broom.
I stepped up beside Hagrid, mounting my own broom.

"Be careful, kid," Hagrid rumbled, his brow furrowed. "We're facin' your lot out there."

"Don't worry," I replied lightly. "I've handled them before. I know how this goes."

Hagrid gave a reluctant grin and pulled down his goggles.

"Please, [F/N], try not to be reckless on that broom," Harry said, his voice softer now, though still edged with worry. "I've seen how you play during Quidditch."

I tried to keep a straight face at his comment, though the goggles made him look oddly vulnerable — and, I had to admit, rather endearing. The corner of my mouth twitched in amusement. "You're one to talk, Potter," I said, pretending to sound stern.

He only let out a faint chuckle of disbelief, I only grinned and winked at him before turning my gaze skyward. The night awaited.

"Brooms at the ready!" Moody barked, his gruff voice cutting through the night. He swept his mismatched eyes over the group, making certain everyone was prepared and armed.

With one final command, the air filled with the rustle of cloaks and the hum of magic. One by one, they kicked off from the ground and soared upward in formation. I was the last to rise, trailing just behind Harry as we climbed swiftly through the mist. The cold wind whipped against my face as we broke through the low-hanging clouds, the world below shrinking into a patchwork of glittering lights. Street-lamps glowed like scattered stars, tracing the quiet outlines of roads and rooftops. A few cars crept along the lanes, and here and there, tiny figures moved across the pavements— unaware of the secret war unfolding above their heads.

As the others flew far ahead of us, I remained by Harry's wise, still astride my broom. Fully aware and alert, I scanned the skies before us— and then, just ahead, flickering lights erupted within the gloom of the clouds.

No... They're here? How?

My eyes snapped to Harry's, meeting his at once. Then I turned to Hagrid— he seemed to understand immediately. As we entered the murky clouds, shapes began to emerge. Death Eaters, dozens of them, flying through the stormy sky. They were searching frantically for the real Harry Potter, having realized there were several impostors. Hagrid saw it too. Without hesitation, he dove sharply downward.

"No! We can't leave [F/n]!" Harry shouted, his voice breaking with panic. But of course, Hagrid couldn't disobey Moody's orders.

I could only watch as they descended, vanishing toward the ground below. Drawing a deep breath, I tore my gaze back to the chaos above— to the flashes of curses streaking across the clouds and not knowing there was 3 Death Eaters who was chasing after Hagrid and Harry. Then, gripping my broom tighter and wand in had, I rushed forward, straight toward the Death Eaters hurling spells into the storm.