Delicate Magic ► George Weasley

two. evil in the sky

Smokey air filled the sky, dancing across her skin and filling her sight dangerously. The screams that shattered the night were harrowing, shaking her to her core.

Rushed steps, bodies sticking close together, Iola watched as who she learned to be Mr. Weasley and his oldest, of age sons, run off to provide assistance, George and his twin guiding the others in their party, but Iola stood uncertain of where to go.

She wanted to return to her tent, dive into the mess around her to be sure that Ponpy was safe even if she knew him to be smart enough to get away from danger. He had instructions to check if she was home before he went looking for her — Iola hoped he went there.

But France was far off, apparating made difficult over the distance, and their home in London was still not prepared for them. Two homes, as it were, as she had inherited one from her mysterious father and another was purchased in her name. So many places, but still she had nowhere to go.

Underage magic was prohibited but France had never been very strict on that matter, not with her near-constant training, yet she could not apparate regardless -- not having been taught how.

She glanced between the two groups as they grew farther apart, now finding the twins alone with their sister. Their wands were at the ready, and maybe they had already seen the cloaked figure headed their way, but it did not prevent the way she moved her wand forward with a snap, a curse rolling off her tongue as she sent the wizard flying backward.

The twins jumped, both turning to face her with wands raised, only to lower them at the sight of her own.

"Stay focus," Iola told them as she jogged to catch up. "Wand always ready."

"Stay focused?" One of them repeated, and it took a moment of staring to realize that it was not George that spoke. "How did you even hit him from there?"

Iola shrugged. "Practice. Now quick, we need to go. I do not know if there are others."

"Of course there are others!" Not-George cried, and Iola placed a finger to his lips.

"Shh! We will be find with all this yelling." She berates him quickly, slipping ahead of them, sparing a smile to the younger girl that clung to her brothers. "Is where we going?"

"Dad said to go to the woods," the girl told her, nodding in a general direction.

"D'accord, I will follow. Go," Iola urged, glancing behind them to where more screams originated as people darted from the destruction.

"But what about Ron? Harry and Hermione?" The youngest cried as her brothers began to lead her.

"They're all together, they'll be fine Ginny," one of the twins said, the other continued, "They'll look out for each other."

The French girl watched as Ginny argued, claiming they needed to head back for them.

"They have wands, no? They will be safe," Iola told her, wand tip lit as they used it to guide them through the light smoke that swirled up from the dirt and blew from the fire.

Trying to snuff out the heart-wrenching screams was difficult when Iola knew they were all so close, but she knew that her assistance would not be useful when she was still technically underage. Workers for the ministry were here, and while Iola did not have trust in them here as she did the people in France, she knew that they were well competent to deal with it alone.

It was the Weasley's, George and his siblings, that needed her help at the moment, the British ministry trace being very serious and foolish in times like these.