"Waaaaaaaaaake uuuuuuuuuuuup!"
George groaned and attempted to pull the blanket over his head, but was unable to move it. He cracked open his eyes and recognized a familiar face kneeling over him—a face he hadn't seen since term ended.
"Sara, just let me die," he grumbled, rolling onto his side.
"Not today, Georgie. Maybe tomorrow, after we've seen Ireland pummel Bulgaria, but not today. You have to wake up!" she exclaimed, shaking him.
"George, turn her off," Fred moaned from his bed.
Sara climbed off of George and flopped onto the other twin. He yelled and rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him as he pretended to go back to sleep.
"Fred Gideon Weasley, you get off of me this instant! Your father sent me up here with orders not to come down without you two!" she cried, pushing against the boy.
"Guess you're never going downstairs then," he smirked.
With one hard shove, she managed to roll him off of her and send him falling to the floor with a loud "thud." The noise made George sit bolt upright in his own bed, and Sara flew to him and ripped the blanket away from him. He scowled at her, but she only closed her eyes and smiled in response. He noticed that she'd changed even more since he'd seen her at the end of the last school year. Her hair was longer, tumbling even further over her shoulders. She'd started to fill out even more. Her button-up shirt wouldn't close over her chest, so she had to leave the top unbuttoned. She was still as short as ever though, and her smile still made him feel warm inside.
"Now get up, you lugs, before I have to upturn the beds," she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.
"Yeah, yeah," Fred grumbled as he stood from the floor and padded out the door toward the bathroom down the hall.
George stepped out of the bed and stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly. He trudged to his closet and stared at his clothes, not really processing what he was looking at. Sara popped under his arm and pulled a sweater from one of the hangers.
"I like this one," she said, handing it to him before exiting the room to give him some privacy.
George looked down at the sweater in his hands. He hardly ever wore this one, but now that he knew she liked it, he would be doing so more often. He pulled his pajamas off and dressed quickly before invading on Fred in the bathroom.
Sara leaned against the wall just down the hall from their room, drumming her fingers against it as she waited. When the twins emerged fully dressed and with bags slung over their shoulders, she smiled cheerily, ushering them down the stairs. They waited about 10 minutes until Ron and Harry finally stumbled down the steps, still rubbing their eyes.
"Where's Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" George asked with a great yawn.
"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they? So they can have a bit of a lie-in," Mrs. Weasley replied.
"So they're still in bed? Why can't we Apparate too?" Fred grumbled as he began shoveling porridge into his mouth.
Mrs. Weasley replied something that Sara didn't hear. She was thoroughly distracted by the slight rustle of plastic she'd heard coming from George's pocket when he reached for a piece of toast. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he looked over at her with widened eyes. He almost imperceptibly shook his head and flashed his eyes toward his mother. Sara rolled her eyes and pulled a bowl of porridge toward her.
"Charlie had to take the test twice," she heard Fred say. "He failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"
"Yes, well, he passed the second time," Mrs. Weasley corrected.
"Percy only passed two weeks ago. He's been Apparating downstairs every morning, just to prove he can," George sneered.
Hermione and Ginny tottered downstairs and sat down at the table. Mr. Weasley was now telling them that they had a short walk ahead of them when George leaned over the table to grab a bowl of porridge. The lump in his pocket did not go unnoticed by the eagle eye of one.
"GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.
"What?" he asked innocently, dropping back down in his seat to try and hide the lump, but the damage was done.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!" he exclaimed.
"Don't you lie to me!" she snarled. She seized her wand, pointed it at his pocket and shouted, "Accio!"
About six brightly colored items zoomed into her waiting hand. A look of fury crossed her face, while Fred and George suddenly appeared to be cowering.
"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as she brandished the objects at the twins (which made Sara feel very in the middle of the fight, as she was seated between Fred and George). "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"
Fred and George began to pull the items out of their pockets and lay them down on the table, and then continued pulling them from their persons. Jacket pockets, rolled up cuffs of jeans, the lining of their jackets; sweets were magically summoned from all of these places and more by Mrs. Weasley.
"We spent six months developing those!" Fred said angrily.
"Oh, a fine way to spend six months! No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!" Mrs. Weasley hollered.
The twins stormed from the table, leaving a bewildered looking Sara behind.
"What are those?" she whispered to Harry as she watched Mrs. Weasley toss them all into the garbage.
"Ton-Tongue Toffees," he whispered back. "They got my cousin to eat one yesterday, caused quite a stir."
Slowly, everyone departed from the kitchen. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny ran back upstairs to collect their things. The twins were already sulking outside. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and went into the living room. Sara could hear their murmuring as she stood up, taking her porridge bowl to the sink. She turned to find herself face to face with the garbage can. The toffees were piled inside, untainted by rubbish. Sara couldn't help it. She reached into the can and pulled out a few handfuls of toffee and stuffed them into her bag before returning to the living room.
"All set, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, wringing her hands.
"Yes ma'am," she replied with a smile.
Mrs. Weasley moved forward to wrap Sara in a warm hug. She was perhaps the closest thing Sara had ever known to a mother, and she always enjoyed one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs.
"Those boys behave better for you than they do for their own mother, just keep an eye on them," she pleaded in Sara's ear before pulling away.
A slight feeling of shame accompanied the weight to the toffees in her knapsack at Mrs. Weasley's words. Still, she'd never let the twins do any danger with them. The rest of the Weasleys and Hermione came back downstairs and Mrs. Weasley turned to give them each a hug. Sara slipped outside and found the twins waiting near the gate, not looking at the house.
"You really shouldn't leave without saying goodbye. One day you might not be able to," she said as she wandered out the gate and meandered slowly down the path that led away from the house.
Fred and George almost immediately felt an immense sense of guilt. Sara's mother had died when she was only a year old, and they sometimes had to step back and consider things from her point of view. It was with this in mind that they returned back to the house and allowed Mrs. Weasley to give them each a kiss and a short hug. Sara watched from the path, smiling warmly. They returned to her side, feeling less resentful.
"Good. Maybe now I'll let you have some of the toffees in my pack later," she smirked.
"Oh, Sara," Fred exclaimed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "We can always count on you."
They set off in the dim morning light, walking into the patch of wilderness just off of the Weasley's property. They trekked quietly for a while, enjoying the sunrise and the sounds of nature that surrounded them. Sara eventually slowed down to talk to Hermione and Ginny, who were slightly more talkative than the twins. They were wandering through a small patch of forest chatting quietly when they noticed someone standing just a bit ahead of them.
"Arthur!" the figure called out jovially. "It's about time son!"
"Sorry, Amos. Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start," he replied, glancing back at Harry and Ron. "This," he gestured toward the smiling man, "is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me, at the Ministry."
They stopped in front of him and a second figure dropped from the trees. Sara smiled as she recognized Cedric Diggory, the boy she'd healed after a nasty Quidditch match the year before. He shook Mr. Weasley's hand before taking notice of Sara.
"This way, everyone!" Mr. Weasley called, leading them onward.
Cedric hung back and walked next to Sara, smiling warmly down at her.
"Hey there, stranger," he said.
"Sorry, this is a girls-only club. You can't walk with us," she joked, gesturing toward Hermione and Ginny—both of whom were blushing under Cedric's gaze.
"Very funny," he laughed, shaking his head. "I still need to make that up to you somehow."
"Cedric, we were kids. You don't have to make anything-"
"No, no, I insist," he cut her off.
She rolled her eyes and laughed at the charming boy. Hermione and Ginny fell back and let the two of them walk next to one another. They chatted about their summers, what classes they were taking this coming school year, and which team they thought would win the Quidditch World Cup this year. She playfully punched his arm when he taunted her about being from Ireland, and he laughed when she imitated Krum. All the while, George kept glancing back at them, trying to be discrete. When he caught Fred's eye, he returned his gaze forward, his face turning pink. Fred just chuckled at him.
"It's just over there, Arthur!" Mr. Diggory called from behind them as they exited the wooded area and trekked up a large hill.
"Come now, we don't want to be late," Mr. Weasley urged them on toward the top.
The sun was just above the horizon and revealed an old boot just at the top of the hill. Sara laughed as they gathered around, recognizing it as a portkey.
"Why are they all standing around that manky old boot?" she heard Harry ask behind her as she kneeled down next to it.
"That isn't just any manky old boot, mate," George corrected him.
"It's a portkey!" Fred finished.
George kneeled down next to Sara and glanced over at her. Though Cedric was right next to her, she was looking at him and smiling. He couldn't help but smile back, despite being a bit jealous earlier. They reached for the boot at the same time and his hand brushed against hers. She didn't pay any mind to it, but he certainly did.
"Time to go. Ready? On the count of three. One… Two…" Mr. Diggory counted down.
"Harry!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.
Harry managed to get a finger on the boot just as Mr. Diggory yelled "Three!" Suddenly, they were spinning around the boot. The world around them was disappearing. Sara was vaguely aware that they were in the air now.
"Let go, kids!" Mr. Weasley called over the rushing wind.
They released the boot and went cascading toward the earth. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins landed hard on the ground. Sara, Cedric, Mr. Diggory, and Mr. Weasley floated gracefully from the sky and landed on their feet.
"You can't step out of a fireplace without stumbling, yet you manage to fall gracefully out of the sky?" Fred asked Sara, rubbing his backside as he stood up.
"Shocking, I know," she rolled her eyes.
They followed the two men up yet another hill and came upon a smattering of people, tents, and merriment.
"Well kids, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!" Mr. Weasley announced.
There were tents as far as the eye could see. Some sported white and green flags, while others displayed their burgundy pride. They made their way through crowds of people also dressed in their respective team colors. There were people on broomsticks sailing overhead, likely drunk already despite the early morning hour.
"Parting of ways I think, old chap," Mr. Diggory said, shaking his friend's hand.
"See you at the match then," Mr. Weasley replied heartily.
"See you later," Cedric said with a wink before following his father into their tent.
"Yeah, when the Irish pummel the Bulgarians," she called after him before following the others a short way down the path.
"Ah, home sweet home," Mr. Weasley declared, pulling open the flap of a tiny tent.
Sara followed the twins inside and found that it was enormous, probably the size of a small house. There were multiple bedrooms, multiple bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, and a huge sitting room in the center of it. She wandered into the smaller room and dropped her bag on the bottom bunk. Hermione took the one above her, and Ginny took the one above Hermione. Sara strolled back out and noticed Fred and George leaning back with their feet on the table. She sauntered over to them and hopped up onto the table, watching everyone else scurry about the tent.
"This is so cool," she murmured, leaning back and resting her hands on the table behind her. "I'm excited to watch the match tonight too."
"Ireland's totally gonna kick ass," Fred said confidently.
"Well, that's a given. But Krum's pretty good too. Ireland's obviously going to win with Troy and Mullet and Moran, no keeper alive could stop them. But I wouldn't put it past Krum to catch the Snitch either," she noted.
"For someone who hates flying, you really love to watch Quidditch," Fred teased.
"For someone who really hates cooking, you sure love to eat," she retorted cheekily.
"Ouch," George chuckled.
"We should go wander. We've got some time before the match starts," Sara suggested, jumping down from the table.
She dragged them out of their seats and checked with Mr. Weasley before setting off to explore. A few drunk men stopped them to flirt with Sara, but she just brushed them off and continued onward.
"Oi, hold up!" they heard off to their left.
"Lee!" they shouted.
They headed over to their friend's tent and wandered inside. A loud shout startled them, and they looked over to see Lee's older brother and some of his friends playing a drinking game. Lee rolled his eyes and gestured for them to sit. Sara and George dropped onto one of the couches while Lee and Fred took separate seats.
"Here Lee, share some with your friends," his brother yelled, tossing a bottle of Firewhiskey to him.
Lee took a swig and passed it to Fred, who passed it to George, who passed to Sara. They chatted mildly, moving the alcohol around the circle. They didn't realize how much they'd had until Lee's brother invited them to come over and play with them. Fred and Lee joined in the game, but George waved them off. Sara attempted to stand up and wobbled, falling back onto the couch and laying across George's lap. Her face was flushed and she laughed loudly. He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Someone's a lightweight," he chuckled.
"Shut up," she slurred, punching him lightly.
She sat up again and looked over her shoulder at him. She looked almost seductive, and he had to remember to breathe.
"Let's play a game," Fred said, suddenly dropping down onto the couch next to Sara.
"Truth or dare!" Lee yelled, dropping onto the chair he'd previously occupied.
"Are we seven years old?" Sara asked, leaning back on the couch and dropping her head onto George's shoulder.
"Come ooooooooooon, please?" Fred begged.
"Fine," Sara conceded. "Truth or dare, Fred?"
"Hmmm… Truth, for now."
"Have you and Angelina snogged yet?" Sara asked, smirking drunkenly.
"Now now, I'm a gentleman, I wouldn't-"
"Oh my god, you totally have!" Sara exclaimed, punching Fred's arm.
"Lee, truth or dare?" he asked avoiding the question and turning to his friend.
"How about a dare."
"Alright, go flash one of the drunk people outside," Fred challenged.
Lee smirked as he stood up and disappeared out the flaps of the tent. The guys at the table had stopped their game and were watching intently where he had just disappeared. They heard a yell a few tents away, and a moment later Lee flew back into the tent, closing up the flaps behind him.
"No fucking way," his brother laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to his game.
"Sara, truth or dare?" Lee asked, dropping back onto the chair.
"Mmm, dare," she said.
"Here's the deal: kiss Fred, then kiss George. You have to decide which is the better kisser. Tongues are required."
Sara looked at Lee as if he'd grown a second head. He had to have planned that or something. Still, she was a bit tipsy, and the alcohol seemed to have emboldened her a bit. She turned to Fred and leaned up, moving her face close to his. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue attempted to push its way into her mouth, and she obliged. He was nice, but a bit awkward and slightly demanding. She pulled back and pondered it for a minute before turning to George.
He swallowed as he watched her lean toward him. She rested her hands on his neck and moved her lips a fraction of an inch away from his. He moved his fingers to thread in her hair and pressed his lips softly against hers. The kiss started sweet and gentle. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and she allowed him access. He massaged his tongue against hers gently, and she whimpered almost inaudibly at the contact. She pulled away and sighed softly.
"Definitely George, sorry Freddie," she muttered, leaning back against the couch once more.
"Bull shit," he scoffed.
They continued their game until Sara sobered up and decided the game was stupid. At around 4, they decided to head back to their tent to get ready for the match. They bade farewell to Lee before heading out among the even drunker crowd, eventually making it back to the tent. Charlie, Percy, Bill, and Mr. Weasley were all outside talking to other Ministry wizards. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry were out buying souvenirs.
"Will you do my face paint, Sara?" Fred whined.
"Yeah, get it ready, I'll be right back," she ordered, disappearing into the girl's room.
"You're welcome, by the way," Fred nudged George before heading off to collect the supplies.
"Wait, you're welcome for what?" he asked, following Fred into their room.
"You think Lee just had the idea to play truth or dare? Or he just came up with that dare on the fly?" Fred winked.
"It was your idea? Why?" George asked confused.
"Mate, I saw the way you looked at her and Ced today. I can tell when you get jealous. I'm basically you, remember. You like her, don't you?" Fred queried, grabbing his bag from the top bunk.
"I don't… I don't know," he mumbled.
"Well, maybe now you can figure it out. Let's go enjoy a good Quidditch match first though," Fred said definitively, leading his brother back out into the sitting room.
Sara motioned them over to the table and had them sit down. Fred got out the paint and gave it to her.
"Simple or all out?" she asked Fred, uncapping the paint.
"All out, definitely," he replied.
Sara smiled and set to work on the eager twin. She covered his face in a base of white paint, then made a three-leaf clover stretching over his cheeks and up onto his forehead. She held up the mirror and let him look. He hugged her thankfully and ran off to find his hat.
"What about you?" she asked, looking down at the remaining twin.
"Not that intense," he chuckled.
"Alright, easy does it then," she replied, leaning in and setting to work.
She painted green and white strips on his cheeks to match the scarf Fred had left him. Her face was so close to his again as she worked on the paint. She was biting her bottom lip in concentration, and her green eyes were set in determination. He swallowed hard and tried to will his eyes to look somewhere else, but he just couldn't avert his gaze. He was almost grateful when she pulled back to examine her work, nodding in approval. She held up the mirror for him and he nodded as well.
"Good," he said, smiling up at her.
"Excellent," she wiped her hands on the cloth Fred had left and closed up the paint jars.
Sara bought a green rosette to accompany her entirely green outfit—lime green shirt, forest green jacket, and vibrant green pants. Her necklaces were composed of green beads and Irish flags. She was wearing a green beret atop her blond mane. She also bought a rosette each for Fred and George, since earlier they'd bet all their money to Ludo Bagman that Krum would catch the snitch but that Ireland would win.
When a loud gong sounded from just beyond the forest, the crowds began to gravitate toward the path that led to the massive structure that would serve as the Quidditch pitch. Mr. Weasley told Harry that it comfortably seated a hundred thousand. They handed their tickets to the Ministry witch at the entrance.
"Prime seats! Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go," she said, handing him back the tickets.
They entered the stadium and began their ascension up the massive staircases. Higher and higher they climbed, and still they didn't stop until they reached the top of the stairs. They opened up a door leading to a magnificent box filled with twenty or so squashy purple chairs. The eleven of them filed into the front row of seats and peered down at the ground below them. They were unbelievably high up and seated at the very center of the pitch. Their box filled up with various Ministry officials, all of whom Percy seemed eager to please. Sara really noticed Bill and Charlie for the first time, both of whom were very immersed in conversation with one another. While Bill was tall and lanky, Charlie was shorter and stockier with many scars adorning his body from the dragons (at least she assumed).
"This is amazing," she murmured, peering over the side of the box again.
"These are such awesome seats," Fred marveled.
"Sara, your dad's here," George said.
Sara looked up and saw her father standing in the doorway of the box. She leaped up and ran toward him with a large smile on her face.
"Daddy, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Come to watch the match with us?"
"No, I can' stay, just come up to give yeh meh love," he said, pulling her into a tight hug.
She patted his back and returned the hug, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek before pulling away. He looked tired, but this was nothing new. He'd been running on very little sleep this summer, working on the enchantments for this stadium.
"Are you on duty tonight?" she asked.
"Ah, yeh know, gotta help out," he waved her off.
"Daddy," she chided.
"Always worryin' about meh," he laughed.
"I just want to make sure you'll take care of yourself this year," she sighed.
He smiled warmly at her and patted her shoulder. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile on his face fell into an angry scowl. Sara had never seen her father look this way. For a moment, she wondered if she had done something wrong, but she realized his eyes were no longer on her. She turned her head and saw three people she'd rather not have in the box with them.
Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway to the box, staring unidentifiably at her father. The expression was one Sara had never seen him wear. Normally he had a confident sneer upon his sleek face; but now, his look was unclear. He continued on and allowed Draco to come into view. He caught Sara's eye for no more than a moment before averting his gaze and following hurriedly after his father. A woman entered the box after Draco, and Sara assumed this was his mother. Her white-blond hair mingled with dark brown streaks, and it was unclear what her real hair color was. She had icy blue eyes the same shade as Draco's. Her eyes met Sara's and she let out a gasp and clutched her chest as if she'd been frightened. She stared at Sara for a moment, as if trying to memorize her. Sara felt her father's hand on her shoulder once more, his grip tight.
"Go on, Narcissa," he spat venomously. "Follow yehr husband like yeh always do, he's waitin' fer yeh."
Narcissa looked at Liam for a moment, then back at Sara, before following quickly after her husband and son, who were being "introduced" to her party (as if they didn't know who Draco Malfoy was). Sara looked back up at her father, who was still glaring at the retreating Narcissa.
"Daddy, what-" Sara began.
"Now's not the time," he shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the silent rage he was in. "I won't ruin yehr night. Have fun, love."
He kissed her quickly on the forehead before heading out of the box, back to working himself too hard for a Ministry that really didn't appreciate him. Sara sighed heavily before returning to her seat between Fred and George. Fred was talking over his father to Bill and Charlie, but George watched her with a concerned look on his face.
"Everything alright? He looked pissed," George asked quietly.
She feverishly told what had happened to George, making sure he voice was quiet enough for only him to hear.
"Malfoy's mum?" he asked. "What would he have against her? I mean, other than the fact that Malfoy had to come out of her."
"Dunno," Sara mumbled.
She turned around and saw Narcissa staring at her. She was a row back and at the other end of the row. When she noticed Sara watching her, she snapped her eyes forward as if she had only been peering around.
Sara turned around just as Bagman stormed into the box. He looked jovial enough to cover up the slightly uncomfortable that had fallen in the box when the Malfoys arrived.
"Everyone ready?" he asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
The Minister nodded, and Bagman pressed his wand to his throat and muttered, "Sonorus!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome!" his magically magnified voice boomed over the stadium. "Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
He went on to announce the Bulgarian mascots (veela who danced enticingly for the crowd, though Hermione and Sara merely rolled their eyes) and the Irish mascots (tiny Leprechauns who exploded from a large firework and rained down on large gold coins). Then he announced the Bulgarian team, who zoomed into view on their broomsticks. The crowd exploded for Krum, the Bulgarian seeker. Then he announced the Irish Quidditch team—for whom Sara was on her feet screaming, especially Lynch (the Seeker and captain), who was her personal favorite. She had a feeling that there were a few judgmental eyes on her as she screamed for her home team, but she didn't care, and before long the others joined her.
It was exciting, and Sara felt herself losing her voice long before it was over. As she predicted, the Bulgarian keeper was no match for the Irish chasers. They scored shot after shot, only letting in a few of the Bulgarian shots. Krum did catch the Snitch, but the Irish still won by ten points. Sara screamed and threw herself into George's arms, temporarily forgetting her slight fear of heights. He laughed and caught her, inwardly pleased with the fact that she had turned to him and not to Fred.
They returned to their tent and brought out the drinks. Amos and Cedric joined them for a celebratory Firewhiskey (butterbeer for the under-seventeens) before returning to their own tent. A fiddler outside began to play jovial music, and Fred and George began to fake-Irish dance around the tent. Sara rolled her eyes at them and sat down next to Hermione.
"There's no one like Krum," Ron declared, stepping up onto one of the chairs. "He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind." Fred and George flapped their arms and circled Ron like birds. "He's more than an athlete; he's an artist."
"I think you're in love, Ron," Ginny commented.
"Shut up," Ron said.
The twins composed a quick love serenade for Ron to sing to Krum, but Sara was distracted. Mr. Weasley had stuck his head outside the tent. A flash of green light zoomed past and he pulled his head back into the tent.
"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on," Fred noted.
"Stop!" Mr. Weasley commanded, breaking up the pillow fight between George and Ron. "It's not the Irish. We've got to get out of here, now."
Sara stood up and moved toward Fred and George. They all followed Mr. Weasley outside and were confronted with screaming campers and fires.
"Get back to the portkey everyone, and stick together!" Mr. Weasley ordered.
Fred, George, Sara, and Ginny took off immediately, pushing through the crowds back toward the hill where their portkey was. They maneuvered around a corner and were met with a pair of hooded figures. The figures moved to raise their wands, but Sara and George were quicker.
"Stupefy!" they yelled at the same time.
The red jets of light hit the cloaked figures, sending them flying backwards and out of their path. The four hurried on and finally reached the edge of the campground. They cautiously stepped over the hill and found Cedric and Mr. Diggory waiting on the other side.
"Glad you kids are alright," Mr. Diggory said breathlessly.
"What happened?" Cedric asked.
"It… It looked like death eaters," Sara murmured.
"Where are the others?" Cedric queried.
"We got separated," Sara explained.
They waited in silence for more than twenty minutes. The sounds on the other side of the hill began to die down. Sara wrapped her arms around herself as the chill night air hit her. George noticed and pulled her against him.
"Do you think they're okay?" she whispered, looking up at him with a worried expression.
"They always have been," George replied, trying to comfort her.
A loud sound similar to an explosion echoed through the air and Sara jumped in George's arms. A green flash of light burst through the darkness before erupting in the sky. The green light took the form of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. Mr. Diggory gasped.
"The dark mark," he blanched.
"So it was death eaters?" Cedric asked.
His father nodded vigorously, seemingly captivated by the mark in the sky. They waited for a long time before Mr. Weasley, Hermione, Ron, and Harry trudged over the hill.
"Arthur, what happened?" Mr. Diggory asked.
"We're not sure. It seems as if death eaters swarmed the campsite. All of the tents were burned down, and Harry saw one of them release the mark. That's all we really know," he explained, sounding exhausted.
"Well, at least everyone's safe," Mr. Diggory sighed.
"We might want to get back," Mr. Weasley said, gesturing toward the portkey.
They all gathered around a rusty tin can and once again spun wildly around it. It was dark, and now they couldn't see their surroundings change. Sara and Cedric seemed a bit flustered and stumbled to the ground while Mr. Diggory and Mr. Weasley floated down gracefully and everyone else fell rather ungracefully. Sara bade farewell to Cedric who headed the opposite direction with his father. The twins hooked their arms around Sara's and walked back to the Burrow in silence. When they entered, Mrs. Weasley immediately rounded on her husband and began prying him for answers. She had obviously heard about what had happened. Everyone took this as their cue to head upstairs.
"That was… Just-" Fred mumbled.
"-unreal," George finished.
"This is awful," Sara murmured, dropping down onto the cot Mrs. Weasley had set up for her. "And I'm sure dad's going to be working himself to the bone on this one too. Imagine all the Muggles who must've seen…"
"What was that thing? The… dark mark?" Fred asked, leaning against their dresser.
"The dark mark is You-Know-Who's symbol. His supporters, Death Eaters, put it up in the air when they kill," Sara explained.
"And they don't know who did it?" Fred asked.
"Fred, I was with you the entire time. Your guess is as good as mine," she sighed heavily, lying down on the cot.
"What does it all mean?" George asked, sitting down on his bed across from her.
"For his supporters to be back in full swing, it means he's getting stronger," Sara murmured.
She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Fred sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. There was a minute of heavy silence. Sara was in one of her deep thoughts.
"We should get some sleep," Fred suggested, squeezing her shoulder.
She nodded and grabbed pajamas out of her bag that she'd left on the floor before heading off to the bathroom. When she returned, both of the boys were changed and climbing into their beds. Sara flicked off the flights before tucking under her own blankets. She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. The sound of Fred's rhythmic breathing led Sara to believe he was asleep. She considered whether George might be asleep too when he answered her question.
"Are you worried?" he asked in the darkness.
"Yeah," she replied, sighing heavily.
Another long silence followed, then…
"You know, I realize that I should say something to try and make you feel better. 'We'll be okay' or 'Don't worry.' But I think I know you better than that. I don't know if we'll be okay, and you might need to worry. But you're not gonna be alone."
Sara didn't say anything for a few minutes. It was George's turn to wonder if she had fallen asleep. Then he heard the creak of springs and saw her dark outline stand up. His bed groaned and he felt her sink down onto the mattress next to him. She snuggled against him and sighed, this time more a sigh of contentment.
"Thank you, Georgie," she whispered into the darkness.
He was grateful for the darkness that surrounded him. An intense blush was spreading across his face. Still, he wrapped an arm around her and heard her breathing fall into a pattern almost matching Fred's.
"Good night," he whispered after she'd been asleep for nearly an hour before dozing off himself.