"Have it your own way," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."
"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.
"Never mind, Ron," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.
There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.
"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy and pony told you all to hide? What's he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?"
"Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"
Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.
"Well... if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"
"Oh come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go and find the others."
"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Malfoy.
"Come on," Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron up the path again, the rest of them following, none of them noticing I had disappeared the second I spotted Malfoy.
"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly.
"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"
The other Weasley's were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw me, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"
"Désolé de vous interrompre, mais avez-vous vu deux garçons à tête rouge et une fille à tête rouge*?" I interrupted.
"Désolé, non. Avez-vous vu Madame Maxime? Femme extrêmement grande, avec un col en fourrure**?" she replied with, once she got over her shock at me being able to speak French.
"Non, je ne l'ai pas, désolé de vous interrompre. J'espère que vous la trouverez bientôt***."
"Er - what?" Ron asked.
I turned around and saw Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Percy staring at me.
"'Ogwarts," The girl replied.
Hermione muttered, "Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," under her breath.
"When did you learn to speak French?" Percy asked, to which I replied with, "When I was about 5-6. It was an extra-curricular school project."
"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path. I dug in the pockets of my jacket for my own wand, as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Percy had lit theirs, - but it wasn't there. The only thing I could find was my Omnioculars.
"Ah, no, I don't believe it... I've lost my wand!"
"You're kidding!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground; I looked all around myself, but my wand was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe it's back in your tent," said Ron.
"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.
"Yeah," I said, "maybe..."
A rustling noise nearby made all of us jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.
"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and laboured to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"
And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.
"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"
"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Harry.
"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"
"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match... 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'... that's what she likes, being bossed around..."
"It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -"
"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, and Percy and I saw him glance edgily at Hermione. We set off again, I was still searching my pockets, even though I knew my wand wasn't there.
We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. We passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, we walked into a patch of silvery light, and when we looked through the trees, we saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.
"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."
"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron... but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -"
A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."
Harry snorted with laughter. He recognized the pimply wizard: His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus. He turned to tell Ron this, but Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"
A/N: G'day, welcome to another chapter. I don't know any languages other than English, so anything in another language was done with the help of Google translate. I apologise if any translations were wrong, I blame Google translate.
* = Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen two red headed boys and a red headed girl?
** = Sorry, no I haven't. Have you seen Madame Maxime? Extremely tall woman, with a fur collar?
*** = No, I haven't, sorry for interrupting you. I hope you find her soon.
Read your way around the world,
Miss Hourigan