Never Is Our Always

The Death Eater March 4

(Minnie) (continued from last chapter)

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," Fred said gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites.

Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns.

-

When we finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

-

We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie.

The twins were dancing around and celebrating the victory of the Irish.

"There's no one like Krum." Ron told us.

"Krum? Dumb Krum!"

"He's like a bird the way he rides the wind." Fred threw the Irish flag over Ron's head. "He's more than an athlete, he's an artist." The twins were bumbling about in a comical way muttering 'KRUMMMM'.

"Think you're in love, Ron?" Ginny smirks.

"Shut up, yeah?" Ron snaps.

"Viktor I love you!"

"Viktor I do!" The twins sang.

"When we're apart my heart beats only
for youuu!" The boys sang. There was immense screaming outside, it doesn't sound like cheering anymore.

"Sounds like the irish have got their
pride on." Fred laughs, I shake my head at him. George and Ron were having a small pillow fight as they laugh.

"Stop! Stop it. It's not the irish. We've
gotta get out of here. Now." Mr Weasley said, looking concerned.

The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I could hear screams, and the sound of people running.

"Get back to the portkey everybody, and
stick together. Fred, George... Ginny
is your responsibility." They nod and they ran.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.

Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. I squinted at them... They didn't seem to have faces... Then I realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.

High above us, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.