That's My Son!

by Demonic Lissy

In the clearing at the World Cup when the Dark Mark is launched into the sky, Mr. Weasley isn't the one who tells the Ministry wizards to stand down. One-Shot.

Just a short little one-shot. I don't own Harry Potter. Most of this is from the book, but I've added my own little twist.

Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered on fact: each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Ron, and Hermione.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, "DUCK!"

He seized the other two and pulled them to the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices—there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the har on his hair ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness—

"Stop!" yelled a voice he didn't recognize. "STOP! That's my son!"

Harry's hair stopped being blown about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw a man walking towards him, a man with untidy black hair and glasses, a man who looked just like him.

And that's all I'm going to write. Let your imaginations have fun with it ;)