enchanted • draco malfoy

Year 4: Compartment Confrontations

** SEMI IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END**

Felicity's POV

The game was amazing. The Irish defeated the Bulgarians by 10 points, but the Bulgarians ended the game by catching the Snitch. Fred and George were dancing around the tent, mimicking the Irish's music.

Suddenly, Ron stood up. "There's no one like Krum!" he proclaimed. "He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind." The twins began circling Ron and flapping their arms like wings. "He's more than an athlete," Ron went on, his voice reverent, "He's an artist!" Hermione and I laughed off to the side as Ginny stated, "I think you're in love, Ron." Ron shot her a sour look. "Shut up."

"Viktor, I love you," Fred and George began singing, "Viktor, I do!" Harry and I joined in on teasing Ron. "When we're apart, my heart beats only for you!" Ron began throwing pillows at us, his face as red as his hair. An explosion sounded from outside the tent and George grinned. "Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," he stated, looking as though he was contemplating whether or not to join them.

Abruptly, Arthur shouted at them, "Stop! Stop it!" We all froze from our pillow fight and turned to him. "It's not the Irish," he informed us quickly, grabbing his backpack, "We've got to get out of here. Now!"

The urgency in his voice spurned us on. We all instantly separated, grabbing our bags, before Mr. Weasley shoved us out of the tent. "Get back to the Portkey, everybody, and stick together!" he ordered over the chaos. People were running around, wands drawn, and smoke wafted through the air. Tents were set on fire and witches and wizards were fleeing in every direction.

A sudden thought occurred to me and I gasped. Neville. I whipped my head back and forth, standing up on my tiptoes, but the campgrounds were huge and in total disarray. Her brother was nowhere to be found, and she could only pray that he'd gotten out already.

"Fred, George!" Arthur shouted, his voice barely heard over the noise, "Ginny is your responsibility! Go!" The twins, each with an arm wrapped around their younger sister, led the way to the Portkey. I made to follow before I realized that Harry wasn't with us. Turning around, I spied him still standing next to the tent, staring at a group of people wearing black cloaks and masks and setting fire to tents.

Death Eaters.

I ran back and linked my arm through his, jarring him back to the present. "Felicity! Harry!" Hermione shouted. We fought to make our way towards her, but there were too many people, all fighting to flee. We somehow wound up running away from the Weasley's and Hermione, and down a hill.

Instantly, Harry tripped, and his arm was ripped from mine as he tumbled down. He tried standing up, before someone sprinted by him, kicking his head in the process. "Harry!" I shrieked over the disorder. I managed to push my way over to him and fell to my knees. He was out cold. "Harry?" I asked frantically, trying to shake him awake. It was to no avail.

Looking around desperately for any help but seeing nothing and no one, I tucked my wand into my bag before grabbing one of Harry's arms and throwing it over my shoulder. With my hand around his middle, I half-walked and half-dragged Harry over to a group of tents that had already been burned and destroyed. It was mostly hidden from view, and the Death Eaters were walking in the opposite direction. I set my best friend down gently and gripped my wand, feeling completely and utterly helpless.

Roughly an hour later, the entire site was burned to the ground. The Death Eaters had vanished, and not a soul remained on the campgrounds, save for Harry and me. A noise suddenly broke the silence. Someone was making their way towards us, kicking around the rubble. He stopped about five yards away and drew his wand. He uttered a spell in a low, raspy voice, one that I couldn't make out.