Scratches (Fred Weasley)

(50) Panic

"Goodness! She still hasn't woken up!" the sound of Mr. Haddlowe's voice was recognizable, Florence hearing her surroundings with her eyes still screwed shut.

She could feel the earth and grass underneath her clothes, and she could still smell the air thick with smoke, however it was not enough to scorch her lungs. She felt herself slowly gain consciousness, letting out a violent wheeze before her eyes fluttered open, startling her companions.

"Florence!" Alexander half yelled, causing the others to swarm around her.

"Back up, she needs some air." said Adrianna, as she slowly sat upright, eyes squinted as she continued to blink away whatever was hindering her from opening her eyes fully.

"We were so worried about you. What happened? Nicolai said that you just collapsed when you two were already by the trees."

Florence shook her head, "I have no clue. I—I remember seeing the Death Eaters. Their black robes... and that's it."

"Does anything hurt?" Adrianna asked concernedly, biting hard on her nails, "Merlin, your mum told me to take care of you and I lost you in a bloody stampede—"

"Dri," Alexander cut off, "There's nothing you could have done. No use in blaming yourself. Florence is okay, er, you are, aren't you?"

Florence nodded slowly, "I'm fine. Nothing hurts. My head's a bit doozy though, but nothing other than that. How long was I out for?"

"About two hours." said Mr. Haddlowe, who was struggling with the weight of an exhausted Asher. He was still carried by his father at the age of 11, drool coming down his chin.

"The Dark Mark, Flo. It hovered right above everyone the moment you collapsed." said Nicolai, concerned. "Was that why you fainted? Because you felt the Death Eaters near?"

"It could of have been just a coincidence..." Florence mumbled.

"That's what I told her," said Alexander exasperatedly, "You're overthinking stuff, Nic."

"Well I'm sorry," she retorted, "It's just that I'm not the only one who's feeling a bit jumpy after what had happened."

"No need to fight," said Mr. Haddlowe. They're setting the portkeys back up from where we had landed. I think it's best if we started making our way over there now. I haven't really heard what time it would leave, so better safe than sorry."

The lot agreed on it, trudging back to the green pastures that they had passed early morning, the air cold with a tinge of smoky scent. They were not the only ones, as numerous of other wizards were heading out to their designated portkeys, some depending on Apparation to get out.

Waiting back at the Haddlowe family house for them was Jane, who fled from her night shift at the Ministry the moment she had overheard a bunch of Aurors talking about an attack at the campsite. Other ministry workers were in a frenzy as well, most of them hurrying to get out of the building to disapparate.

Without a word of consent from anyone, she had practically dashed out of the office, Apparating in the dead of the night with one thing in her mind: Florence.

Her Ministry uniform was creased in different places, hair falling out of the neat bun that she usually did. Infront of her was a cup of hot tea that Mrs. Haddlowe had prepared for her, the woman also equally worried.

The Clearwaters were the last ones to respond to the emergency owl that Jane had sent out.

Mrs. Clearwater was half in tears as she sat tensely on the couch, Penelope beside her. The poor girl looked as if she was merely pushed out of bed by her parents and dragged along to come.