Chapter Two:

Quidditch

The next day the Weasleys plus Harry and Hermione make their way to the port key to go to the World Cup. Once they arrived they quickly went into their tent.

"Wow." Abella smiled as Harry looked at the tent. "It's amazing how large it is isn't it?" She laughed as he nodded before they all made their way to the game.

That night Abella, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley's were celebrating when Arthur shushed them. "We have to go, now." Arthur walked outside. Abella threw on George's sweat shirt before running out of the tent. The scene outside we frightening. Masked faces were marching towards them; every now and then a tent was thrown around. Abella was frozen in terror as her head began to pound.

"Go Abella! Go!" Arthur Weasley shook the young girl from her stupor as she sprinted towards the woods on the far side of the clearing.

After a moment Abella heard people running behind her, so she pushed herself harder.

"It's her! It's the girl!" She could hear voiced behind her screaming as more people joined them.

Abella's lungs were burning as she pushed herself harder than ever before. Suddenly someone reached an arm out to grab her, and she let out a small shriek, before a hand was clamped over her mouth. She opened her eyes and stood face to face with a blond boy about her age. She was terrified at that moment, she had no idea what was going on. She had to admit he was handsome, in a strange way.

When the men had run past them he opened his mouth to speak. "You're her aren't you? You're Abella Tonks." He stared at her, as if it wasn't believable. "You shouldn't be here! You shouldn't be alive! He is going to find you!" The boy shook her, accidentally slamming her head into a tree. "You'll kill us all!"

Abella let out a scream as her head slammed into a jagged piece of tree; blood began to trickle from her head. Suddenly a green light shown over head. The boy cast her to the ground before running, as people's voices grew closer. Abella's head began to throb, her eyes unwavering from the green light.

Suddenly two arms picked her up off the ground and began carrying her. "Oh god, Abella darling can you hear me?" Arthur Weasley's breath came out nervously as he stared down at his child. Abella's eyes opened, and stared at the green light in the sky, her head felt as if it was going to split open. She knew if she stopped looking at it the pain would cease, but she couldn't. The burning spread to her eyes, and then her entire body, before she fell into blackness.

When the Weasley's arrived home Molly crushed Abella into a tight hug, looking at the now healing wound at the back of her child's head. "Mum I'm fine really." Abella huffed as she sat down at the table, leaning her head onto George's shoulder, as Fred rubbed her back.

"Do you know who it was?" Arthur watched as Abella closed her eyes, her head still throbbing.

"Some blonde git. He kept saying something about how I shouldn't be alive. I was running away from the people in the masks. They knew who I was or something? I don't understand dad." Abella whined as her head throbbed again.

"Just a bunch of Death Eater's who believe in myths is all love, don't worry about it." Arthur kissed his daughter's head before sending her to bed.

"I'm going to brew a pain potion first "Abella sighed as she stood up and grabbed a cauldron, quickly setting to work to make a pain potion. Once she was finished she wandered upstairs, followed by Fred and George, concern was written on George's face, and Fred kept making jokes about her more than likely just tripping.

When Abella reached her room she walked over to Fred's dresser and grabbed one of his shirts, before removing her own clothes and throwing on the shirt. Fred began to complain before George elbowed him in the ribs, as Abella drunk the potion and lay down.

"Mum would have a fit if she knew you changed in front of us like that." George laughed as he sat in the floor beside Abella's bed. Abella let a small giggle slip before closing her eyes, and falling asleep, George rubbing her back the entire time.

Sorry so short

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