It was only when Ginny fell asleep at the table and knocked over her hot chocolate that Mr Weasley declared it bedtime, sending the girls off to their tent. Harry wondered how all his other schoolmates were celebrating; was there a big group of Hogwarts students out there somewhere, cheering and singing under the firework-strewn sky? He was surprised the older Weasley boys weren't off celebrating with their friends, but he supposed they didn't see their younger siblings all that often. Harry was glad for the extra company; Bill and Charlie were a lot like the twins, and it was great fun having them around.
Harry crawled into his bed with a yawnonly to bolt upright seconds later when an earsplitting scream echoed from outside the tent. That was not a scream of joy.
He and Ron rushed into the living room, where all the other boys were stood looking alarmed. "What was that?" Percy asked cautiously. Several more screams rang out, and it sounded like huge groups of people were running. Mr Weasley hurried back into the tent, face pale in the dim light.
"Death Eaters," he declared grimly, and the eldest three Weasleys cursed. Harry felt sick.
"Are you sure?" Bill asked urgently, already grabbing his wand. Charlie and Percy were doing the same.
"Positive. Kids, hurry — grab your jackets and get outside, now. I'm going to get the girls." Mr Weasley left again, and Harry ran to grab a jacket and his boots, double checking his wand was safe in its holster. He, Ron and the twins ran outside the tent, skidding to a halt when they saw the chaos outside. People were fleeing from a group of people in robes and masks, spells flashing and drunken jeering echoing behind the screams. Above the masked group was… oh God. The muggle who ran the campground, and his family. The masked wizards were levitating them high in the air, flipping the woman over and laughing when her nightdress rode up.
Hermione and Ginny emerged from their tents, horror immediately setting in on their faces. A second later, the three eldest Weasley boys stepped out, fully dressed and wands out, their sleeves rolled up. "We're going to help the Ministry," Mr Weasley shouted over the noise. "You lot get into the woods, and stick together! I'll come fetch you when it's safe. Fred, George, look after your sister," he added, getting two grave nods before he was off following his eldest sons towards the chaos.
Fred grabbed Ginny by the hand, tugging her towards the woods. Together they all sprinted for safety, falling in with the crowds of fleeing people.
The rest of the night was a blur.
They lost track of Ginny and the twins within minutes, but Harry knew the twins would keep the youngest Weasley safe. He and Hermione went to light the way, at which point Ron realised he'd lost his wand. "I have to go back and look for it!" he insisted. "Mum and Dad'll kill me if they have to get me another one." He started walking against the flow of traffic, and Hermione looked at Harry with a mix of fear and exasperation.
"Ronald!" she called, hurrying after him. Harry made to follow, but a flash of blond caught his eye.
"Malfoy," he called, aware he was in public. Draco, who was leaning against a tree and watching things through a gap in the woods, turned with raised eyebrows.
"Potter. Don't tell me you're out alone in this?" There was a hint of concern in his voice. Harry edged closer, keeping an eye out for his friends.
"Ron and Hermione are back there. Ron lost his wand." "Idiot," Draco head.
muttered,
shaking
his
"Are you alright?" Harry met his gaze, looking past his unaffected facade to the worry deep in his grey eyes. "Where's your mother?"
Draco's lip quivered. "Father insisted she stay by his side." His words were stiff, and comprehension dawned on Harry. He stared at him in horror.
"She's not— they're not—" Draco nodded. His parents were out there in masks, hurting the muggles and causing chaos. Hailing Voldemort.
"He wouldn't take no for an answer. The only reason he let me go is that I'm underage."
Uncaring that anyone could walk by them, Harry reached out and grabbed Draco's hand, squeezing tight. "She'll be okay," he said, wishing he could promise that. Draco looked down at their interlocked fingers, then back up at Harry. "She's been through this before. She knows how to blend in with a group like that. She'll be fine."
Slowly, Draco nodded.
There was the crack of a twig snapping, and a muffled cry that could only be Ron. Harry let go of Draco's hand quickly, stepping back. "You alright there, Ron?" he called out. "There you are, Harry! Yeah, fine, just tripped on a root. No sign of my wand."
"With feet that big, I'm not surprised," Draco drawled, his Ice Prince mask firmly back in place. It made something in Harry's chest twist painfully.
"Malfoy," Ron growled. "What are you doing here?"
Harry tried to stop the exchange descending into a brawl, taking Draco's veiled warning and ushering Hermione deeper into the woods, urging Ron to leave Draco alone. "You don't even have your wand, you can't hex him," he pointed out. "Yeah, but you could," Ron retorted. "Merlin, Mum's gonna be furious if I can't find it."
"I'm sure it's back in the tent," Hermione said, though she sounded doubtful.
They kept walking, keeping an eye out for the twins and Ginny, and almost lost Ron to three veela in the woods. When they reached a small clearing, Harry suggested they stop and wait.
That was where everything went wrong.
Soon, he found himself staring up in horror at the enormous skull and snake hovering in the sky; the Dark Mark, in all its glory. They barely managed to make it a few steps away before they were surrounded by Ministry wizards, ducking a barrage of stunning spells. Harry instinctively had his wand in his hand when he got to his feet, though there was no need; Mr Weasley was running through the crowd, yelling for the wizards to leave them alone.
What followed was the most disastrous attempt at an investigation Harry had had the misfortune to witness; in the back of his mind was a voice that sounded awfully like Snape, calling everyone dunderheads and imbeciles as the wizards proceeded to accuse three teenagers — one of whom was Harry Potter — of conjuring Voldemort's sigil, followed by Mr Crouch's house elf. Harry's heart broke for the poor elf he'd seen in the top box earlier, watching her sob as her master dismissed her. Sirius had taught him about house elves when he'd asked about Ceri; they needed to be bonded to houses, or their magic would start to go wonky and make them sick. They'd die if they stayed free for too long. Harry wished he'd known that when he'd freed Dobby. Then again, he doubted whatever happened to a free elf could be any worse than working for Lucius Malfoy.
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