࿐ ˚ . ✦𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜~(𝚊𝚍𝚓.) 𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎✦ . ˚ ࿐

        ℕ𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕨 much we've been through, a part of us always convinces ourselves that the most recent bad thing to happen to us would be the final one. Perhaps it's our brains giving us hope; hope so we won't succumb to taking the hand of the monster with the crooked smile that would help guide us to insanity. (y/n) remained in this blissful ignorance. Even though her abilities have been giving her warnings all summer when she slept, she believes that last bad thing that happened was the final one. That since everything that occurred last year drifted off like a wave that carried swirling blood, nothing worse could possibly strike her down in the upcoming nights.

Oh the poor ignorant girl, so oblivious to the evil that lies within the corruptness of the wizarding world.

Eyes were everywhere

She stood in the grand tent that housed the Weasley family and the trio. The atmosphere was of the most welcoming, excitement evident within the floating laughter and carefree spirits. Almost like the night before a big vacation.

Everyone was excited about the Quidditch World Cup, the booming cheering, butterbeer, adrenaline of your Galleons being on the line as you nervously clink them while watching the score go up.

Of course, nobody knew that this year things would be different; it would be the fall of the innocence that people still somehow poses.

The tent was warmly lit as the Sun went down, people still audibly celebrating their excitement outside. Bags in the tent were places next to everyone's designated bunks.

Hermione with Ginny

Fred with George

Ron with Arthur (Arthur thought it would be good bonding)

Harry with (y/n)

Harry was standing by the bunk with his bag in hand, awkwardly waiting for (y/n) to come over. Of course she was nervously chatting with Hermione, trying to put off what would be nothing but a nerve racking interaction.

The two obviously had written countless letters to each other during summer, but they hadn't been able to have an actual conversation other than when he brought her to the Burrow.

Ginny noticed Harry fighting the urge to stare at (y/n), so she stopped talking and gave her best friend a knowing look of, "you better get your ass over there before I drag you", and she wasn't kidding. Ginny raised her eyebrow, looking at (y/n) then Harry, hinting to her without words that she couldn't put it off any longer.

"(y/n) seriously, you need to go over there," Ginny scolded.

"He's fine, plus we have so much more catching up to do. Hermione, what's your skincare routine? Seriously, you're glowing! Walk me through step by step, I want to hear every little detail," (y/n) said nervously, an expression on her face that was painful to look at.

"Ohh no you don't," Ginny said while putting a hand on her shoulder and spinning her in the direction of Harry, pushing her forward. "Go, be free."

(y/n) hesitantly smiled at Harry, who had the most smitten look on his face at the sight of her. A look that of course went unnoticed only by the girl it was caused by.

She stepped in front of him, both not knowing what to say.

"Uh, do you want top or bottom bunk?" Harry asked kindly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she laughed.

"No really, ladies choice," Harry seemed to have warmed up his conversation skills a little since she had walked over.

"Why thank you. What a gentleman," (y/n) whispered teasingly, scrunching her nose a little.

She set her bag near the ladder, climbing up and resting her head on the hands that laid flat on the side bar. Harry set his bag down as well, admiring her features and trying to contain his excitement of how lucky he got with who he bunked with.

"Come on, kids! We're cooking dinner by the fire outside tonight," Arthur announced.

Everyone excitedly filed out of the tent, ready to eat before heading to the Quidditch pitch. (y/n) had began walking out of the tent, when she felt a hand gently grab her arm.

She turned around, only to see Harry shakingly standing behind her, hand still on her arm. Her smile immediately faded and her brows furrowed in concern.

"What is it? Are you alright?" she asked, stepping close to him.

"Could you...just stay here a moment? I need to talk to you," Harry gulped, not breaking eye contact.

"Oh...yeah, yeah of course," (y/n) hesitated, grabbing his hand in reassurance.

He walked over to their bunk, sitting down, her doing the same by sitting criss cross with her full attention on him. She rubbed her thumb on his hand, he wanted to tell her to stop. But not because he didn't find it comforting, only because he couldn't focus on what he was trying to say.

"What is it?" she asked gently.

He played with her fingers, finally taking a deep breath and looking up. "I just...I didn't know who I could trust, but I need to tell someone and I don't feel feel like anyone would understand. Except you," he softly smiled.

A little taken aback and beyond ecstatic about this, (y/n) smiled and nodded for him to continue.

"I had a dream the other night. Well, at least I think it was a dream. It was...this man, he was in this old house, sneaking up on this group of people. I couldn't see one of their faces, their voice was sort of...raspy? A snake came by and-well it killed him," Harry was staring off into space, his eyes glazing over like a dark betrayal washed over him.

Once he broke out of it, he grew confused as his voice was the last thing that made a sound in the empty tent. Harry looked back, as he noticed that (y/n) had worry controlling her features and her mouth was slightly open. He tightened his grip on her hand and used his other to grasp her shoulder lightly.

"Hey, what's going on?" he whispered, bringing her mind back.

"Harry I um...I had that same dream. I saw you too, jolting awake and holding your scar. I could-could feel your fear and your worry. I didn't think it would be real," she bit her lip to try and contain the feelings that were trying to break free.

He put his arm around her, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "This has to have some significance, and it might be a problem if it was real.  We'll figure it out, promise," Harry said.

They sat in contemplating silence until the fluttering sound of the tent entrance earned their attention.  Hermione stood looking around, embarrassingly glancing between the ground and the duo once she noticed that they startled apart amidst her arrival.

"Sorry, um," Hermione muttered, "we're leaving for the Quidditch pitch soon...just a heads up." With that she clears her throat and hurriedly leaves the tent.

(y/n) and Harry get up without a word, only exchanging reassuring glances and tightening the grip of their hands.

As they step out of the tent, it's like they pass through into another dimension. The solemn quietness that had only seconds before filled not only the tent, but their minds, seemed to vanish as the livelihood of the campground flourished. Everyone was decked out with fluorescent face paint and accessories that, so much so that no matter who you looked at it wouldn't be hard to tell who they were rooting for.

In fact, before arriving to the pitch, (y/n) had received face paint that was rooting for the Bulgarians. The twins also had face paint, the green and white showing their love for the Irish.

They all finally arrive, climbing up many metal steps to reach an unfathomable height. Cheering was muffled, but quite audible from the position in which they stood. The pitch was positioned inside a large white tent, plunging deep with rows upon rows of supporting spectators.

"Blimey, dad! How far up are we?" Ron asked excitedly.

Before Arthur could answer, a snobby man's voice came from a level below. "We'll put it this way, if it rains, you'll be the first to know," the man, Lucius Malfoy, stood proudly at the metal platform just below the group with Draco.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box," Draco bragged. "By personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself!"

"Don't boast, Draco," Lucius scolded, stopping his son in his tracks with the sleek staff he always carried. "There's no need for these people."

(y/n)'s blood was boiling, Harry noticing, so he turned her around and kept his hand on her shoulder while they walked. Her foot was however caught on something, so she turned around to notice that it was the beak of Lucius' staff.

"Enjoy it. Life's...too short," Lucius smiled, releasing her pant leg harshly while Harry gave him a dirty look.
They arrive to their seats, patiently awaiting for the teams to be introduced. Flashing lights strobes everywhere, balloons floating up into the clouds and people cheering in hopes that their team would play as good as they convinced themselves they would.

"Wanna bet on the winning team?" (y/n) yelled, knowing the twins couldn't turn down an offer that heavily functioned on a bet.

"Of course,"
"but watch out"
"we know our way around the Quidditch World Cup" the twins said, alternating parts of their sentence.

"We'll see about that," (y/n) said teasingly.

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knots," Fred said, George collecting the money that was pooling in, "that Ireland will win-but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand too."

"Not a chance," (y/n) laughed. "I bet the same amount on Bulgaria, with Viktor Krum also getting the Snitch."

The rest of the group and a good amount of bystanders-adults and children- also piled in their bets. Their money on the line only making the anticipation of the match even greater.

They also met Cornelius Fudges' house-elf, Winky, who was saving his seat. A little grumpy, and seemed to be upset about the fact that Dobby got paid and seemed to have fun.

"House-elves aren't supposed to have fun," were the exact words.

The mascots of each team was now presented, first being the Irish. The Bulgarian mascots were Veela-incredibly beautiful women- who enchanted almost everyone in the stands; including Harry.

They wore silky flowing dresses and danced gracefully.

After Harry was teased by (y/n) for the Veela's, the leprechauns that represented Ireland were now visible. They made sparkling gold coins rain, Ron collecting a good amount and giving it to Harry for the Omnioculars he had given him earlier.

"There's the Irish!" Fred exclaimed. Sure enough, a flurry of white and green smoke erupted from the base of brooms that zipped into the pitch. They flew towards the sky, fireworks crackling into a rather large image of a leprechaun dancing. "Here come the Bulgarians!" Fred yelled again.

"No, here comes the winners!" (y/n) bellowed.

A more aggressive song took over the fast paced Irish music that had played. A group of players with maroon robes zoomed in, one in particular hoisting himself into a handstand on his broom.

"Who's that?" Ginny asked.

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world!"

(y/n) laughed at how Harry almost looked offended at Fred's words. "I think you're the best Seeker. Maybe even better than Krum you never know," (y/n) had said.

"Krum! Krum! Krum!" the crowd cheered, his face plastered on a large screen as he waved confidently.

"Good evening!" a voice bellowed, silencing most of the spectators. "As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup! Let the match...begin!"

The match had been scary for Harry and (y/n) who both bet on Bulgaria. The Irish had an organized offensive formation, scoring goal after goal. Everyone had been impressed by Krum, who caused the Seeker for Ireland to run into the ground trying to keep up with him.

Irish-170
Bulgarians-10

The Irish seeker spotted the snitch, but Krum was quicker on the broom, capturing the Snitch and earning Bulgaria 160 points.

However it wasn't enough, for the Bulgarians lost 160 to 170.

(y/n) groaned at the amount of money she had just lost to the twins.

"Looks like we know our way around the World Cup, after all." Fred smirked, holding out his palm as (y/n) handed over her money.

Everyone headed back to the tent, the twins staying behind to collect their winnings.

The Weasleys celebrated the Irish's victory, the twins prancing around while Ron stood on a table.

"It's a shame, really," Harry said. "I could've sworn Krum would've won it for us."

"It's alright, Har. At least we got to watch it right?" (y/n) smiled with her arm wrapped around his, before excusing herself. Hermione was beckoning her over to her and Ginny's bunk.

"What's up?"

"What's up?" Hermione gaped. "Are we going to talk about what I walked in on earlier?"

"What's there to talk about, 'Mione? So my head was on his shoulder and his arm was around me. It's nothing new, really," (y/n) cooly crossed her arms.

"Yeah normal for you guys. You don't do things like that in a friendly way, it's quite obvious to everyone but you two that there's emotion behind it." Hermione sighed when (y/n) looked away. "Look, I'm just giving you insight as your best friend. You both are cowering away from telling each other anything cause you're too scared, but I can assure you that constantly holding hands and flirting without going past that isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I'll think about it. Besides I don't even know what I can use as an excuse to ask him out," (y/n) sat on the bottom bunk.

"I'm sure something will come up," Ginny added.

Arthur left in a hurry as loud noises came from outside.

"There's no one like Krum!" Ron said dreamily. "He's like a bird the way he rides the wind. He's more than an athlete...he's an artist."

"I think you're in love, Ron," Ginny said in a teasing tone, rubbing Ron's arm.

"Shut up," Ron bit back.

The twins started singing,

Viktor I love you
Viktor I doo
and everyone else joined in
When we're apart
my heart beats only for you

It was almost sad, because whenever (y/n) listens to music and sings it, she has a tendency to really hear the lyrics. Thinks about them; so when these particular lyrics were sung as an innocent tease, she found herself realizing how much she resonates with the words. She looks over at Harry, who's laughing at Ron and oblivious to this fact.

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," Fred said.

"Stop, stop it!" Arthur tumbled seriously in the tent and quieted the kids. "It's not the Irish. We've gotta get out of here, now."

Everyone was confused and quite frightened, so they followed his orders and filed out of the tent cautiously.

The atmosphere of the action packed night had immediately changed. The happiness and freedom crumbled underneath the iron fist of fear and destruction. People screaming a scream that could only be described as a kind that pierced your soul with utter pain and realization. Realization that the situation you're in is one of death; one that has a high possibility of you not escaping it without a casket and a heart in your chest that no longer serves you.

"It's the Death Eater's!" someone yelled frightfully.

(y/n) wanted to hyperventilate, wanted to crumble into the ground and pretend that this situation didn't exist. How is it possible that a moment ago she was giddy on staying with her friends and worrying about how she would tell a boy she likes him to being frightened for her life and worrying that this would be the last time she would feel Harry's hand in her own.

People running in a frenzy, making it near impossible to even see where you were or what was ahead of you. Screams of children who laid next to the bodies of their parents; parents screaming to find the location of their children. Death walking calmly across the campsite, collecting soul after soul, taking them to a place only he knows.

(y/n) was frozen in these paralyzing thoughts, wanting to weep tears of crystallized sadness for the amount of pain she could feel hammering against her veins.

Listen, Listen, her head pounded.

"(y/n)!" Harry yelled, gently squeezing her hand while the other rested on her cheek, finally breaking her from the trance. "We have to go."

"Get back to the Portkey everybody, and stick together!" Arthur yelled, trying to keep it together but being noticeably afraid.

"Come on!" Hermione yelled with tears in her eyes, leading the way forward.

A mass of cloaked figures marched across the ground chanting and holding up blazing torches. Hermione was panting loudly and clinging onto Ron, but Harry and (y/n) became separated amongst the crowd.
"Harry, (y/n)!," Hermione screamed. "Harry! Harry, (y/n)!"

Just like that, they were gone. Lost from being ushered forward by people and Hermione's voice faded the farther she got.

The cloaked figures blasted fire everywhere, the once  structure tents that held a family's memories of that night melting in the flames.

Everyone scattered into the woods, but Harry and (y/n) remained scrambling. They finally spotted each other, grasping onto each other's hands tightly.
They began to move forward, but (y/n)'s grasp was forcefully ripped from his.

"No! Get your hands off of her! Let go of her!" Harry screamed, trying to get to her, but being repeatedly knocked down by frantic wizards.

"Harry!" (y/n) yelped in a plead for her life.

He kept trying, but was knocked out by a blow that was so strong it made it hard for him to hold on any longer.

She turned around to see it was a middle aged woman, a lost and frantic look in her deep blue eyes that left the color almost tainted. Her bony fingers made (y/n)'s skin conform around the tips from how hard she was gripping.

"Let go of me you old hag!" (y/n) yelled, struggling hard, but the woman had no emotion except for urgency. (y/n)'s head began to whisper like it did when Harry was trying to get her attention.

Listen, Listen, Listen—saving your future this woman

"He's found you," the lady said, her voice shaky like she was scared for the girl. "The Dark Lord knows of your identity. He didn't know where you could be, but inside help has helped him find you. Be careful, my dear...you're a weapon." The lady brought (y/n) close and whispered warningly in her ear, "Watch your back."

(y/n) looks at her with her mouth open and eyes blank, not knowing how to process this. She examines this woman, noticing a faded black mark on her forearm, almost like a tattoo. A snake is what she could make out before the woman tugs her sleeve down and runs into the woods.

(y/n) puts this in the back of her mind for the time being, as Harry still lay unconscious. She rushes over, gently shaking his shoulder and holding his hand. She mentally decides that she isn't leaving until he's safe, even if her life is on the line.

It gets to the point where everyone has fled the campsite and the flames had died down besides a couple small ones. The tents being small wooden structures covered in black ash, the same ash littering the ground. He began waking up, grateful that she was next to him.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You really didn't have to stay with me like that," he said, feeling bad that she risked her life like that just for his mistake. He was the one that failed to keep her hand, he thought. "Are you alright? What happened?" Harry asked, remembering what had occurred as he scanned her for injuries.

"Fine...it was a mistake. Some woman just thought I was her daughter," (y/n) smiled fakely, Harry knowing the expression too well, but knowing better than to ask so soon.

They stopped talking as a man could be heard crunching the rubble with his boots.

"We need to leave," (y/n) whispered, steadying Harry as they stood.

"Guys!" they heard Hermione yell. "Where are you?"

They made their way towards the voices, finally finding them.

"Oh my Godric," Hermione whined, hugging (y/n) tightly.

"We've been looking for you for ages," Ron said. "Thought we lost you."

"What is that?" (y/n) said flabbergasted.

In the sky rested a flow of green in the shape of a skull, a snake actively coming out of the mouth. It swirled in a sinister manner, the color almost teasing the idea of the evil that lurked in the camp shadows. She recognized it as being similar to the mark on the woman's arm.

Out of nowhere a group of people fired spells.
"Stupefy!" they said, red lights clashing into each other as (y/n) cling onto Harry.

"Stop! That's my son," Arthur bellowed, pushing through the crowd and making his way to the kids.  "Harry, Ron, (y/n), Hermione, are you all alright?" he asked frantically.

"Which of you conjured it?" one of the men asked, wand pointed at the Quarter.

"Crouch, you can't be-"

"You've been discovered at the scene of the crime," Crouch accused.

"Crime? What crime?" Harry asked confused.

"Barry, they're just kids," Arthur said.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry. It's his mark," Hermione whispered.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked. "Those people tonight, in the masks, they're his too aren't they. His followers," Harry said, breathless.

"Death Eaters. Follow me!" Crouch said urgently.

"Um, there was a man!" Harry said. "Before, there!" he pointed ahead.

"All of you, this way!" Crouch led the men to the area.

They all looked at the mark in the sky. (y/n) had a feeling that this wouldn't be the first time she would see it. She also had the a feeling that fourth year wouldn't be so nice after all.

-
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a/n~ hey besties, I need your opinions on a couple things
are these chapters too short or are they the perfect amount? cause i'd be able to figure out how to make them longer but i just didn't know if this was an issue

also, give me some ideas for what you want to see in fourth year plz! (fluff ideas also), it makes it a little easier to map things out:)

anyway hope you enjoyed! Until next time ~i

Mrs. Potter Squad

#BEMSUPREMACY