Chapter 3
The seemingly never-ending stairs to the top box had to end eventually, far quicker than Fred and Rebecca had thought that they would. Inside, they found that the box was lined up perfectly on the mid-pitch line and that the chairs were a bright purple colour.
Arthur went to thank Ludo one last time for the tickets and to greet other present colleagues as the stands below were slowly filled in. The kids situated themselves into their two rows: Ron, Harry, Rebecca, Fred, Hermione, and Ginny taking the front row while Charlie, Arthur, Bill, George, and Percy took the row directly behind.
"Hello Arthur." A tight voice spoke from behind the Weasley patriarch as he returned to his family. Lucius' cane tapped the floor annoyingly, making it seem as if even just greeting the Weasleys bored him.
"Hello, Lucius." The men exchanged an uncomfortable handshake in front of Cornelius Fudge, hiding their extreme distaste for each other for the minister's sake. Draco had his head turned out, looking over the pitch with a blank expression.
"Say hello to your friends, Draco." Narcissa said sour-sweetly, grabbing his shoulder and turning him towards the mass of children. He winced, her nails digging into him.
"Hello." His lack of enthusiasm only irritated Narcissa further.
She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "If you do not use your manners, I will beat them into you so help me." Her long, dual-coloured hair hid her words from the other children and she pushed Draco forward a step when she was finished threatening him, turning to join the conversation happening between Arthur, Lucius, and Fudge.
Rebecca nodded her head to Draco, the only one to propose conversation. "How has your summer been?"
Draco shrugged. "Haven't done much really." Rebecca started to talk about anything, trying to fill the silence that threatened to cover them entirely. Slowly but surely, those behind her began to chat amongst themselves while she and those closest to her engaged with Draco.
"Last year, with the-" Draco looked to his side carefully to make sure his parents weren't listening. "With the hippogriff. You didn't have anything to do with its escape, did you?"
Rebecca's smile faltered a moment before returning with a forced quality to it that Draco noticed. "I don't know what you're talking about. Like I was saying though-"
"I never pictured you for such a bad liar, Potter." Draco interrupted her, anger and rudeness coming out of him instinctively.
Fred turned from where he had been behind her with only half of his attention on Rebecca and Malfoy while Harry did the same on her other side.
"Say it again, Malfoy." Harry, when he wanted to--when his family needed defending--could sound menacing. "Say it."
"You should find your seat, I think." Charlie had risen at the impending brawl and laid a hand on Fred and Harry's shoulders. Glancing towards the Malfoys' seats, Charlie looked down at the boy. He hoped it was clear that working with dragons had given him not only a shocking level of strength, but a sense that he wasn't to be messed with either. "Now."
Draco left them and walked past the adults, going to his seat and staring straight ahead at the pitch. Lucius' eyes flitted between Harry and Rebecca, watching as the Potter twins turned to each other quietly.
"Don't pay him any mind, he's just a prat." Harry said, sitting down next to Rebecca with a sigh.
Hermione leaned forward so that she could see Rebecca, to make sure all was okay. "Speaking of last year..." Hermione could hardly contain her laughter to say what she was thinking about. "When I punched him!"
They all laughed at that, remembering the event fondly. As a giant leprechaun took to the sky, there was nothing but high spirits between most of those in the front row.
"Who does that little shite think he is?" Fred muttered as he turned around in his seat for his brother, thinking that George would back him up.
Surprisingly, George was opting for peace at the moment. Reaching forward and holding Fred's shoulders tightly, George defused the situation masterfully. "Come now, Fred. Breathe before you blow something." George mimed a few slow breaths. "Better?"
Fred nodded, turning back in his seat and finding comfort in the fact that at least Rebecca didn't seem bothered by the comment at all.
When Ludo's voice rang out over the pitch, all was nearly forgotten. "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup Final! Coming from the Emerald Isle, the land of luck, IRELAND!" The Irish team flew in, going straight through the leprechaun and doing a lap around the perimeter of the stadium before returning to their half of the pitch.
"And, coming from the land of-well, I'm not entirely sure, we have BULGARIA!" The Bulgarian team flew out and did a lap in their robes of red. The crowd, especially Ron, cheered as Viktor Krum flew by.
Rebecca realised something that brought a question to the tip of her tongue. "Ron, why exactly aren't you for Bulgaria today?"
Ron grinned and pulled down the neck of his jumper to reveal a red Bulgaria shirt. Hermione saw and scoffed. "So you can wear a Bulgaria shirt and I got pestered about a scarf?"
Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you said a stranger gave it to you!"
Rebecca raised her eyebrows and looked at the now-blushing Hermione, anticipating a gossipy discussion as soon as they had a modicum of privacy.
Down below, on the grass of the pitch, a collection of women took to the green. They were pale with bright blonde hair. Rebecca waved a hand in front of Harry's face, curious as to why he had stopped in the middle of his sentence and not continued again.
"They're veelas, Rebecca." Arthur explained from behind. The seductive dancing of the women seemed to have brought the stadium into a lull. "He's a little preoccupied right now."
Rebecca turned in her seat confused. "Is this something that doesn't affect married wizards, Arthur?"
"No, not quite." Arthur shrugged. "No reason for some wizards being unaffected has ever been concretely proven. Most theories revolve around true love, but they're just theories."
Rebecca looked down the line of Weasley men. Bill and Charlie staring ahead slack-jawed and nearly drooling while George and Ron's attention was just as all-encompassing. Sitting back to the front, Rebecca couldn't help but take a look at Fred--if only so she had something to tease him about later. Fred looked away from the dancers and gave her a crooked smile, raising an eyebrow as if to say, "can you believe this?"
Rebecca felt her face warm, though she couldn't quite pin down why.
Arthur shook his head at the two of them, his smile only dimming when he reminded himself of their carelessness about that blasted wager.
Hermione pointed towards the pitch as the blugers and snitch were released, the quaffle ready to be thrown up between the Irish and Bulgarian chasers.
"And just like that," Ludo narrated. "The match has begun!"
*******************************************
The match started off in luncay and continued on that same breakneck pace. Both Ireland and Bulgaria were defence-strong teams, though Ireland's offence bested Bulgaria's shot after shot. Twenty-five minutes into the game, the score was 130-10 with Ireland in a far, far lead.
"Irish Chaser Mullet forcibly foulde by Bulgarian Keeper Zograf, penalty shot awarded." Ludo announced as one of the referees made the call. The Bulgaria fans in the crowd booed madly, the hysteria at Ireland making another goal fueling their anger. The veelas stormed the pitch, their trance only making the men of the crowd rowdier.
Harry and Ron stood with some of the other men in the top box, angry and moving like they were going to leave their seats to go join the veelas. Arthur grabbed Ron by the neck of his shirt while Fred hooked his arm through Harry's, sitting both boys back into their seats. The referee forced the veelas off the pitch after a brawl opened up between the leprechaun of the Irish and the hissing veelas, their faces morphing from the angelic women they had been to bird-like, fireball throwing creatures.
George shook his head, clearing himself from the residual fogginess the veelas left those who stumbled under their spell just as the Irish Beater Quigley sent a bludger directly at Viktor Krum, breaking his nose. Hermione's breath caught at first impact, her hands wandering to the end of her Bulgaria scarf and wringing themselves nervously.
The crowd quieted and seemed to collectively lean forward in their seats as the mediwizards surrounded Krum entirely. Hermione let out one, loud laugh of relief when the circle of healers around Krum stepped back and the referee gave the Bulgarian coach a thumbs up. Krum would continue to play.
Rebecca felt an inkling of the headache from before coming back at a frightening pace, the twinges turning from an annoyance to a cause for concern. "I'll be right back." She said quickly, standing from her seat and giving the excuse that she had to use the toilet.
As soon as she stepped outside of the box, she held one hand to the railing and the other to her head. Her brain was beginning to throb with each beat of her heart.
"RJ?" Fred asked from the doorway, stepping outside so that no one inside could tell there was an issue for her sake. "Is it your head again?" He jogged down the stairs to as far as she had gotten and walked next to her, his arm around her shoulders as they continued to where the toilets were.
"It's fine, not too bad." Her head twinged sharply, her involuntary wince in response telling fred that she was lying. He said nothing on it, but the doubt came off of him in waves. "Alright, it hurts a little. You didn't have to come though, go catch the end of the match."
Fred shrugged. "No need, I already know what's going to happen." He gave her a little smile as she stepped out from under his arm, entering the bathroom.
Rebecca was relieved to find the room empty. She turned the faucet to cold and cupped a handful of water to her mouth before taking her glasses off and bringing the cool water to her face in an attempt to calm and comfort herself. It felt almost as if the pain was abating slightly.
Rebecca was nearly back to the door when her head bounced back with a vengeance, forcing her to her knees and her eyes shut with the sheer violence of the pain.
Fred heard the thump and went to the door, knocking on it. "Rebecca?" He asked worriedly, not getting a response. He cracked the door open slightly and saw her on the floor, throwing the door open and rushing in. "Rebecca!"
Flashes were going through Rebecca's mind, her eyes opening and closing though she didn't see anything except what was inside. There were flashes of fires, flashes of screaming, bleeding people being tortured by swarms in black capes with silver masks. A flash of a skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth made out of smoke in the sky was the last flash to show itself repeatedly.
Fred held her against him, as if he could do anything to ward off the attack.
When the images faded and left at last, Rebecca blinked at how bright the lights seemed. Unlike earlier, when the pain had lingered, it left with the images this time. Rebecca tried to sit up on her own but Fred didn't budge.
"Do you feel that you can walk?" Fred asked, holding her just as firmly. "There's got to be a healer around here somewhere."
"A mediwizard?" Rebecca asked, removing his grip from her arm. "No! Fred, it's gone."
"What's gone?" Fred asked confused, following her out of the women's bathroom.
"My headache. That last batch must have been the end of it." Rebecca shrugged. "I feel right as rain."
"Batch?" Fred echoed.
Rebecca took the lead to bring them back to their seats, taking his arm in hers to comfort him as he seemed very nearly on the verge of tears. "I don't know what it was...It looked like here, the match and all. There were tents and the arena but, it wasn't. There were fires and masked people, this smoke shape--a snake and a skull." Rebecca squeezed his hand. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, okay? It must mean something else, like last year."
Fred stopped, unable to go a step further as long as she seemed so calm. The hand she had been holding stayed in her grasp, her free hand caught by his so that he had her full attention. "Are you certain that you're okay?"
Rebecca smiled as if he were being silly. "Positive. Come on! I don't think the match is finished yet!" She pulled him up the last few steps and let go of his hand at the door. She had been right, the match was only at 160-10.
George stood up and held his breath, Ireland had possession of the quaffle again. Their best chaser was tearing down the pitch towards the goals and then George let out a whoop rivalling everybody's.
"Ireland scores again!" Ludo's voice echoed. "170 in the first hour of the game, more than any other team against Bulgaria this-Look at that! Krum's racing away, the snitch in sight!" Krum was a blur across the field, dodging other players and obstacles with Ireland's seeker right on his tail.
The crowd stood and screamed, the arena seemed to shake with the sheer power of the cheering going around.
George held his hands to his cheeks in shock, stomping with the crowd. Fred couldn't believe it, Rebecca had seen true.
"We won!" George screamed as he realised what had happened. "WE WON!"
Harry and Ron looked at them strangely as they began to dance in a circle, weaving Rebecca between them and continuing to chant about their victory. "They didn't win anything. Ireland did." Ron remarked.
Hermione rolled her eyes and told them about the wager that had already been spoken about in front of them. "If you two weren't so busy telling off my scarf, you would have heard!"
Bill had wrapped his arms around Ginny tightly, the two of them laughing about how madly Rebecca, Fred, and George were celebrating.
Arthur clapped his hands, cheering them on until it was time to wind it down. "Alright, alright! That's plenty enough now. Go collect your winnings while we're here. The Irish will be in full celebration tonight and I don't want to be separate on our walk back." He shooed them off towards Ludo, their joy contagious.
"How much did they wager?" Arthur asked, curious if anyone knew.
"Their life's savings." Ginny answered, dimming Arthur's smile.
"And a fake wand." Charlie tacked on helpfully.
Across the room, Ludo sat in the announcer's chair rather cross as they approached him. "So, you've come to collect, have you? Can't interest you in a double-or-nothing until next year's match?" They unanimously declined. "That's the agreed upon amount. Take it and go, no need to gloat longer than you have to."
Fred and George grabbed the gold from the bucket that would fall and filled their pockets, not wanting to lose a single galleon accidentally.
Ludo called for them to wait just as they had turned to go. He stood, walking to them with his arms crossed. "How'd you know?" He demanded, looking between the three of them expectantly.
Fred shrugged, nudging Rebecca discreetly. "Good intuition, I guess."
George grinned and stood between Fred and Rebecca as they walked back to their friends and family gold-laden and victorious.
*******************************************
Arthur stoked the fireplace in the middle of the little grass patch outside of their tent, watching as Fred and George did a jig at Rebecca's maestro-ing with Irish flags draped over their shoulders.
Ron stood on the section of log he'd stood up for a seat, raising his voice over the clamour. "He's like a bird the way he flies!"
"He's an athlete." Harry said plainly. He appreciated Krum's techniques for future aspirations, but he didn't idolise him as Ron did so thoroughly.
"He's more than a bird." Ron ignored Harry entirely. "He's an artist!"
Ginny walked past with another sandwich and patted Ron's arm gently. "I think you're in love, Ron."
George grabbed one of Ron's arms, singing. "Viktor, I love you!"
Fred grabbed the other of Ron's arms, swaying from side to side. "Viktor I doooo!"
"When we're apart, my heart beats just for you!" Harry added, joining in the ribbing of his best friend as a noise caught Rebecca's attention in the distance. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the fire.
Charlie followed her gaze, listening closer. "Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on, as they should."
Arthur listened, shaking his head and jumping to his feet. "That's not the Irish." He pulled those near him still sitting to their feet roughly, keeping his voice low as he smothered the fire. "We've got to get out of here."
Ginny glanced around confused at the instant change in mood. "What do you mean?" A degree of fear had entered her voice.
Arthur looked over his shoulder as an explosion rang out, far closer to their tent than the noises before. "There's no time. Get back to the portkey and stick together!" He pushed the children away from the growing destruction. "Charles, Bill, Percy? With me!"
The four oldest Weasleys turned to leave, Arthur grabbing Fred and George's shoulders firmly so they knew how serious he was. "They are your responsibilities now." The men were gone in moments.
George grabbed Ginny and kept her to his side, Fred sticking his arms out and directing Hermione and Harry onward, away from the thundering booms.
"Go Harry!" Rebecca urged, moving her brother out of his stupor. Whenever Harry fell behind and ended up next to her, she pushed him forward again so that he was keeping up with the rest of them.
Fred took Harry's spot, holding his arm out so Harry continued on and catching Rebecca's wrist. "This is it." Fred breathed, his eyes wide as the arena was engulfed in flames behind them. "This is what you saw, isn't it?"
The group turned the corner, Ginny and George who were leading the way skidding to a stop and trying to backpedal. They were face to face with a group of wizards in black capes and silver masks. Fred's grip on Rebecca's arm tightened as the masked group turned towards them, a wave of other match-attendees pouring out of a row between the children and the masked-people.
The group of children found themselves engulfed in the terrified crowd and though Fred tried to keep his grip on Rebecca, they were torn apart. Harry was separated off a different route, Rebecca forced another way.
Ron grabbed Hermione's hand that had been holding onto his arm so tightly it hurt and placed it onto Fred's, needing to go back for Harry and Rebecca. "RON!" Hermione screamed, starting to fight against Fred to get back to Harry and Rebecca too.
"Stop!" Fred barked. "He's going to be fine--They all will." Hermione stopped struggling and followed as Fred fought through the crowd--roughly shoving anyone in their way or shouting for them to move--until they got to where Ginny and George were ducked behind an overturned tent.
"Where would they go?" George asked Fred as Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny tightly.
Fred looked around and saw a collection of trees about a hundred metres away. "There. She'd go to the trees." George looked to Fred, needing to know that he was sure. Fred stood up and held his wand in front of him once more. "I know she would; I'm certain of it."
George grabbed Ginny's hand again and Fred held the back of his shirt out for Hermione to hold onto. "Do not let go, no matter what." He instructed to both girls. Hermione nodded, filled with worry about the other three. Fred peeked around the corner and found that there was a path to the trees, no masked torturers in sight.
Then, Fred began to run.
*******************************************
Rebecca was slammed between the shoulders of two men who's Irish-coloured face paint was speckled with a red that could have only been blood. Her ears were filled with the sounds of screams from the crowd behind her and the crackling of fires that were spreading around them quickly.
"HARRY!" Rebecca screamed, trying to raise her voice above the violence.
"REBECCA?" Her name was shouted by Harry, somewhere off to the right. Rebecca fought her way out from between the men and tried to angle herself through towards the direction where Harry's voice had come from.
A hand grabbed her shoulder tightly, scaring her to her core. Rebecca turned and swung at whomever had grabbed her, making contact with their face.
"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted, letting go of her to hold onto his eye. "What in the bloody hell?!" Ron repeated, his eye already feeling as if it were swelling.
"Ron, where's Harry?" Rebecca breathed before realising that she needed to apologise. "And I'm sorry."
Ron looked at her through a narrowed eye. "I thought he was with you." Ron reached forward for her still clenched fist and loosened her fingers. "Put that away before you kill someone!"
Under normal circumstances, the quip would have a retaliation from Rebecca. But there were not normal circumstances and Harry was no longer shouting her name. Rebecca began to run faster, pushing herself harder. She and Ron followed the mass of people that was slowly thinning out and looked down every row of tents they were passing, doubling back to where they had been when Harry had last shouted.
"There!" Rebecca pointed, dipping under a woman who was sobbing hysterically as she ran to get to the familiar black head lying face up on the ground. Ron looked around frantically, hearing the chorus of footsteps in unison that was the attackers.
"They're coming, Rebecca!" Ron whispered, crouching down next to her.
"We need to get to cover." Rebecca responded, making sure Harry was still breathing. "Those trees, Ron. We need to hide."
Harry's eyes were closed and his glasses lay on the ground next to him. Rebecca grabbed them and hooked them to her shirt before pulling Harry up by his arm and lifting him the best she could. She followed behind Ron who was leading the way with his wand out as they snuck aisle by aisle the best they could.
At one point, Ron dropped to the ground and motioned for Rebecca to do the same. Directly on the other side of they tent they were hiding behind, were the masked people.
Ron pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to lessen any sound at all possible. Rebecca took Harry's wand out of his pocket and tucked it jumper, her own wand already in her hand. She didn't know if they would need it if they were caught. The mask-wearers came to a halt.
"There's one!" A man shouted, a woman letting out a horrible scream as she was found. "Muggle-born or pure blood?!" The man screamed the question.
"Pure blood!" The woman sobbed. "I'm a pure blood!"
Another voice called out, yet another different one. "I can smell the muggle on 'er." The woman's screams of pain provided Ron and Rebecca the cover they needed to continue on as even Harry's dragging feet were unable to be heard.
*******************************************
Fred and George put Hermione and Ginny between them as they made it to the trees, all four of them scanning both the areas inside with them and immediately outside for any sign of the others.
"They're not here!" Ginny whispered. "We need to go find them!"
"No." George shook his head. "Not with those people out there. We aren't going anywhere." George nodded to Fred, knowing exactly what his brother was thinking. "Fred is."
Fred took no extra time. He squeezed Ginny's hand reassuringly and assured Hermione he would be safe. Leaving them both under George's protection, Fred hoped they didn't need it. The first thing Fred did was creep to the outermost ring of trees, staying hidden but making it so he had a clearer view of the had-been-tents around.
Most of the fires had gone out, though a few burned on. Smoke lay heavy over the campgrounds.
Fred froze as he saw a group of the masked down an aisle, a woman hanging in the air between them motionless. Just on the other side of the tents were the others, Harry being dragged alongside Rebecca.
Rebecca looked up at the weight of eyes on her, seeing Fred just as Harry's foot caught on something sticking out of the ground in the dark sending she and Harry to the ground noisily.
Fred had to do something, the masked person closest to them turned its head to hear the noise more clearly. There was large stone at his feet and Fred launched it into the distance, hoping it hit something loud. A clang rang out as the stone hit something metal--The masked group moved towards it.
Ron kept his wand out and his attention behind Rebecca and Harry in case any of the masked people decided to investigate the noise more thoroughly. Fred left the safety of the trees as they got closer, putting Harry's middle over his shoulder and hoisting the boy up entirely. Ron listened to the directions Fred was telling him as Fred used the hand not balancing Harry over his shoulder to guide Rebecca onwards.
A new sound filled the air along with a new light, Fred stopped and looked back a moment before Rebecca let out a gasp of pain and held her forehead. A skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth made out of smoke was floating above.
Fred felt as though the sight--even though he wasn't sure what it meant--had chilled him to his soul. "We've got to get to the others." He whispered, resuming their creeping.
Ron's footsteps made far more noise than Fred would have hoped, the brush of the trees not helping at all. When George, Ginny, and Hermione were finally in sight, a series of cracks surrounded the approaching three frighteningly so.
Fred pulled Rebecca to the ground and put his body over hers and Harry's, looking up to make sure that Ron had ducked as well. "Stop!" A voice shouted, a voice that filled every child with relief. "They're mine! Stop!" Arthur pushed ahead of the other adults and grabbed his children in turn.
Fred stood up slowly, pulling Rebecca to her feet and putting Harry back over his shoulder. A man with a thin mustache and a bowler hat was marching towards them, storms in his eyes entirely directed at Rebecca. "Which of you conjured it?" He demanded in a shrill voice. He raised his wand and held it at Rebecca's neck.
Fred shoved the man's arm away, bringing his own wand out. "Watch where you're pointing that."
"You've been discovered at the scene of the crime!" The man sounded hysterical, his wand raising again to be held at Rebecca's middle. "Which of you conjured it?"
"Crouch!" Arthur snapped, putting himself between the man and his children. "You can't be serious. They're just children!"
"What bloody crime?" Rebecca asked.
Hermione spoke from where she had been next to George, answering with the question she feared was right. "It's the mark, isn't it? That's his mark."
"Voldemort?" Rebecca clarified, finding that Hermione's nod confirmed it. Turning to Arthur, Rebecca was still lost as to what the connection was. "Those people here tonight then, they're his followers?"
Arthur stared at Crouch until his wand was at his side before answering Rebecca. "Death Eaters."
Crouch turned away and beckoned the other adults to follow him. "We need to keep searching."
Arthur grabbed Ron's jaw gently in the privacy they were left in, surveying his blackening eye before looking at the unconscious Harry. "Let's go. The portkeys have been opened; it's time to go home."
*******************************************
Rebecca walked next to Fred--Harry over his shoulder still. He had finally stirred once as they began their walk back to the portkey, but he had been still since. Through the carnage, they walked in silence.
Charlie, Bill, and Arthur went from child to child to fix whatever they could, the best they could. George had a scrap up an arm from where he had tripped and fallen as they ran. Hermione and Ginny had both been singed by a fire.
Ron's eye proved more difficult than Bill had expected, but that could have been because he couldn't stop laughing when he heard how Ron had gotten it. Bill managed to get it less swollen, though the dark circle remained.
"Fred, where do you need me?" Arthur asked, at the back of their party at last.
"I don't." Fred nodded to Rebecca next to him.
"Fred's lying." Rebecca said, taking his wrist gently and turning it so Arthur could see. "He cut his arm."
Arthur tapped his wand to it and watched as it disappeared into a small scratch. Fred adjusted Harry before pointing down to Rebecca's knee. "Tripped with Harry w-when, right before t-"
"It's alright, son." Arthur patted Fred's shoulder before looking down. "Scrapes are easy." Her skin was mended within seconds, Arthur left the trouser's repair for Molly as he knew his skills couldn't have compared. "If there's nothing else pressing..."
"No, we're alright." Fred waited for Arthur to leave so that it was just Rebecca and he once more, bringing up the back of the group. "I didn't say anything in front of Ron but I have to ask. When you grabbed your scar back there, did you see anything else?"
Rebecca shook her head. "It wasn't like those pains. After I've seen something, it's like...my brain is imploding or it's being burnt or-don't look at me like that, you asked." Rebecca was quiet a moment. "There's nothing that can be compared to that pain, nothing at all. But when I looked up at the mark in the sky, my scar just burnt."
"Burnt?"
"Yeah, burnt." Rebecca watched as Fred adjusted Harry again. "I can take him again, if you want." Fred gave her a look. "Well, I can."
Arthur had them stop at the bottom of the hill the portkey was on top of, having a hurried conversation with the ministry wizard overseeing the evacuation that involved lots of hand movements and raised voices. Arthur was shaking his head as he walked back to the rest of them. "Good and bad news. The good is that we're going to get a little bit of a break. Bad, it's because the next portkey isn't for a few hours."
Ron fell to the floor instantly, laying out in the grass. The others began to situate themselves accordingly while Rebecca grabbed Harry's arm and helped Fred lower him to the ground, laying his head down gently and leaving a kiss on his forehead. Rebecca sat down on one side of Harry while Fred took the other, Fred watching as Rebecca busied herself with running her fingers through Harry's hair.
"You want to know some real shite?" Fred asked with a sigh. "We didn't have the buckets of gold, left them at camp. But all the gold in our pockets? Disappeared. Dirty bastard gave us Irish gold."
Rebecca's jaw dropped. "No!"
"Yeah." Fred nodded. "Back to square one with that."
The distraction was welcome to Rebecca who was struggling to wrap her mind around everything that had happened, everything that they had seen, since the match's conclusion. "You know what we should do? Pre-sales. Lee's reserved a box already and we know others who would. If they paid ahead to save their spot, we'd have the money for ingredients. Then we can get a back up going, maybe..." Fred listened to her talk business--talk sense. An obstacle was not a dead end.
Fred and Rebecca gradually got closer and closer to the floor, ending up lying on their backs on either side of Harry and looking up to the stars. "Do you think the stars remember what they see?" Fred hadn't meant to ask that aloud, he was just thinking on something he had before.
"Maybe." Rebecca blinked, finding that the question left her almost overwhelmed with a sadness that seemed too big for the simple question. "I hope not."
Fred was quiet a long time. "I hope they don't remember the bad, but that the good."
*******************************************
Harry sat up quickly nearly an hour after they'd arrived at the portkey stop, sandwiched between a sleeping Fred and Rebecca. Arthur hurried to his side, explaining what had happened as they walked to a quiet place on the edge of the group.
"But no one's hurt?" Harry asked, looking behind Arthur over almost everyone he loved.
Arthur pulled Harry into a hug, holding the back of his head against his chest. "Not a one. You were who we've been worrying about. What happened?"
Harry repeated the evening. "It was so mental--the running and the screaming. When the mas-the Death Eaters." Harry couldn't let them be anonymous when Arthur had told them who they were. "When the Death Eaters showed themselves, people just started running. I'd tripped over someone else and ended up on the ground. Someone must've kicked me."
Arthur motioned for Harry to show him his chest, pursing his lips at the bruises that had formed. Arthur murmured the incantation to lessen bruising and watched as the dark purples faded to the yellow-greens of nearly healed. Ginny let out a yelp in her sleep, drawing Harry and Arthur's attention.
Bill crouched down next to her, holding her closely until she quieted once more.
"Do you need anything, Harry?" Arthur felt the pang the Potter twins brought in him when Harry blinked up at Arthur as if that was the first time he had ever been asked that. "It's okay, son. Have a seat, we'll be going soon enough."
Harry went back to Fred and Rebecca, finding that the space he had been occupying between them had been filled in and they were next to each other, their backs against each other. Harry lie down in front of Rebecca, putting is forehead to her collarbone and trying to find peace in her presence.
"Harry?" Rebecca asked, waking up. "Oh, Harry!" She sighed, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly. "What are we going to do with you?"
"With me?" Harry asked. "Ron warned me about coming in arm's reach!"
Rebecca managed a grimace-like smile and lowered her head to the crook of Harry's neck. The portkey was ready to go before long and they were all eager to return home. Harry was being fawned over by Hermione while Rebecca crouched down to Fred's side. "Fred?"
He opened his eyes, frowning. "So this wasn't a dream."
"Afraid not." Rebecca wished Fred's sadness wasn't so contagious. When she heard, saw, or thought of him being anything less than happy, she wanted to fix it.
"I have to tell you something. Something important." Fred brushed his trousers off and looked at Rebecca. "When the crowd first rushed us, when we got separated, I never meant to let go. I need you to know that."
Rebecca gave him a look. "Of course I know that."
Fred sighed and he nodded once. "Okay."
"We're going to be holding on longer this time." Arthur instructed as they circled around the boot. "End up closer to home."
The trip seemed nearly double the time it had taken that morning, though it was worthwhile since they could see the Burrow from where they landed. Arthur pulled those who had landed in piles of tangled limbs to their feet and brushed them off, the outside light turned on and Molly anxiously awaiting their return.
She had heard about the events of the match and had prepared beds across the entire downstairs, wanting them to do nothing more than go in and be able to sleep. She ran down the stairs as they walked up the drive, kissing them all quickly and herding them in. "Beds! Beds everywhere! Couches, cots, mattresses in the hall!" Molly hugged and kissed them all in turn at the door, Weasley or not. Every child felt her love.
Fred and Rebecca were the last two to enter the house and took the last two beds open: Two cots side by side in the front room with the burning remnants of the fireplace. Just like in Hogwarts the year before, they were in cots after horrible frights. Their hands, also just like in Hogwarts, dangled near the other's in the space between them.
Molly and Arthur went room by room well after sleep had filled the house, making sure everyone had enough blankets and no one was struggling. Both parents couldn't help but smile at how Rebecca and Fred were sleeping and Arthur, knowing his wife, reached into his office to hand her their camera.
A silent snap of a memory later, Molly responded to Arthur's look of amusement with a cheeky justification. "They're going to appreciate this once they're older!"
Putting the camera back where it belonged, Arthur and Molly retired for the evening to talk about what had truly happened that night.
What it meant for the Wizarding world.
*******************************************
<3