"He has nothing to do with this. Can we move on, please?"
Fudge peered at her from over his glasses. "Miss Guerrero, we must rule out the implication of revenge in this case. What happened to your brother- "
"-has absolutely nothing to do with this case." Willow gripped the sides of her chair with white knuckles. "Please, don't reopen old wounds. My brother has been out of the picture for years."
"But the fact of the matter remains that Orion- "
"-is not a part of this investigation. End of story." Willow's foot tapped the floor uncontrollably. "For the love of God, can I just give you my version of the story? You'll see that Orion has nothing to do with any of this."
"Minister," Dumbledore said calmly, "I believe it would be most beneficial for the defendant to state her testimony."
Fudge's face purpled slightly, as if he had counted on talking about Orion, but he eventually let out an exasperated exhalation. "Fine. Let the defendant state her case."
Willow stared down the Minister of Magic as she launched into her story. Her defiant eyes never wavered from his stern, cold gaze. She told him about the torture of her mother–of course, after the Minister had so conveniently left the room–and the mistreatment she'd received in the dungeons. She spilled her guts out about the effects of having her memory searched. She masterfully described in vivid detail the brainwashing her mother had and was still receiving from her own family. There was no error, no pause for breath, no stumble over words; Willow let them have it. She ended up on her feet, preaching to the rows of no-longer-stone-faced judges, telling them exactly the hell she'd been through. And somehow, through it all, she never once mentioned Frodi or Deandra Terrell.
The Minister's mouth twitched from a frown into a sober neutrality. He didn't appear nearly as affected by Willow's speech as the rest of the jury, but she'd made a dent in his view of her actions. Something about her candid words and raw, emotional tone had gotten through to him. Willow plopped back into her chair, glaring pointedly at Fudge.
"Happy now?" she said. "Orion was in no way a part of this. Until you brought him up, I'd finally managed to forget about him for a little while, so thanks for digging that up."
Fudge reddened. "Revenge motive has been set aside for now. We call to the stand Paige Adams. You may have a seat, Miss Guerrero."
Shooting Paige a pained glance at the mention of her former last name as they traded spots, Willow took a seat beside her friends. They crowded around her, asking all sorts of questions, especially about who this Orion person was. She hardly heard them. Each mention of her brother was another mallet swing to her heart. She felt like a piece of spider-cracked glass, only the slightest of touches away from shattering completely. When it got to be too much, she simply got up and moved to an empty section of benches. Her friends didn't follow.
Willow hardly paid attention to the rest of the trial. While her friends were called up one by one to be cross-examined, her mind drifted further and further away from the room. Memories invaded her brain: running in the rain, sledding down the side of a snowy hillside, long walks through nature preserves, and countless starry nights spent laughing until dawn. Willow desperately closed her eyes and tried to force them out, but the harder she tried, the faster they pressed in.
All of a sudden, like someone had thrown a bag over her head, Willow was enveloped by a powerful, piercing sadness, accompanied by the most livid anger she'd ever felt in her life. Why did Fudge have to bring up Orion now, after so many years spent forgetting about him? Why did he have to bring him up at a time when she couldn't afford to be vulnerable? How could he possibly be so cruel? She couldn't afford to let one of the biggest weaknesses in her life bring her to her knees, not now!
Willow could feel her steel will slowly bending to the sheer power of the memories. Her heart throbbed. Her head pounded. Her skin burned. She could feel herself gradually breaking, and her internal strength falling to its knees. Willow gripped the sides of her head tightly, digging her nails into her scalp in a last-ditch, frantic attempt to keep herself in the present. But it didn't work. Sensory memories overthrew her, and without warning, she was tossed haphazardly into the past.
The splash of small feet; the metallic tang of well water; the whistle of the wind between pine trees; the heavenly aroma of red velvet cupcakes; the sweet twittering of colorful birds; the burn of a skinned knee; the swish of the sprinkler turning on; the crisp first snowfall of the year; the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot; the delicate touch of a gentle hug; the taste of homemade shepherd's pie; the constellations winking down at them; the warmth in those grey-blue eyes–
"The accused are cleared of all charges," Fudge suddenly barked, hammering his gavel.
Willow peered around the room to see everyone exiting. When she saw her friends clearly moving toward her, she wanted to scream at them to stay back. She could feel her sadness and anger seeping into every fiber of her being, enhancing the destructive capabilities of her powers. She needed to leave, now, before they saw her like this.
"Willow, wait!"
"Where are you going?"
Heart breaking at their cries for her to stay, Willow hurried out of the room. She snatched her wand back from a Ministry official, then pulled her hood up over her head, purposely mixed in with the crowd, and jumped into a nearly full elevator right before the door shut. Her enhanced ears picked up the calls of her friends and family as she ascended to the main level. Shutting her senses down as low as she could, Willow numbed herself to the outside world. She darted out of the elevator the moment the doors opened, and within seconds, she disappeared into the flood of witches and wizards exiting the Ministry.
Minutes later, Willow was walking down the streets of London, hands shoved into her pockets, face downcast and grey as the weather. When it began to pour rain, she didn't even try to take shelter; on the contrary, Willow purposely walked right through the deluge, hardly caring about the cold liquid seeping through her t-shirt. The sun came out ten minutes later, seemingly mocking her with its hopeful warmth. Her dripping clothes dried in less than a quarter of an hour.
Willow had hoped to remain in the cold.
When she was cold, the memories stayed away. Her mind went as blank and numb as she felt in the crip air. But now, as the sun renewed the warmth in her body, the tide of emotional trauma could hardly be stemmed as it flooded over its barriers. Willow wanted to scream at the group of smiley, happy teenagers she passed; the atmosphere itself was mocking her with its positivity! Why couldn't she feel the same? Did she not deserve to feel at least some form of joy?
No, because like I said before, I don't deserve shit! I should have never told myself otherwise!
Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself? Cebba yelled. I told you, it's not-
SHUT UP! I don't want to speak to you right now!
Cebba struggled to remove herself from Willow, and when she failed to stop the spirited woman, she ducked into an abandoned alley, her hands balled up into fists as the older woman appeared before her.
"Willow, you've let this emotional baggage weigh you down for too long," Cebba said, furious. "It's destroyed you ever since- well, ever since it happened, but you have to confront your trauma at some point before it kills you!"
"Let it kill me, then, I say!" Willow spat. "I'm not talking about it. If you already know about it, then you're about as much help as my family."
"They've been trying to help you for ages, but you won't let them in!"
"Yeah, I wonder why that is? They coddle me like I'm a pathetic crybaby! I'm a teenager now, and I can handle it! I handled it back then, and I'm handling it now. I don't need or want their stupid pity party."
"You call pushing it away handling it?" Cebba said. "That's called ignoring it, Willow, and you know damn well why that's dangerous!"
"I do, don't I?" Willow said coldly. She glared daggers at her mentor. "Why don't you tell me another thing about mental health that won't make a damn bit of difference, Cebba? I'm done trying to fix myself. I'm broken, and I just have to deal with it, like every other broken person on this earth. I'm not special. I don't want people hugging me and throwing me into therapy."
"I'm not saying you need that! All I want is for you to live!"
Willow took a few deep, livid breaths, holding Cebba's gaze with a tumultuous mix of emotions. "Well, I stopped trying to do that a long time ago. There's no use trying to duct tape shattered glass."
Before Cebba could protest, Willow threw her back into her body. Cebba shouted and cursed all kinds of obscenities at her, but Willow shut her voice out. Transforming into a hawk, she took off above the sprawling city of London, not caring where she was headed. She rocketed through the clouds, allowing their cold moisture to absorb into her very bone marrow. The numbness following it finally gave Willow the bliss she'd been hoping to enjoy from the rain.
Orion's soft, playful voice tickled her ears, but she was able to toss it over her shoulder like a crumpled-up piece of paper. The longer she flew, though, the harder it became to hold her hawk form and defeat her mind at the same time. Willow shook her head and plucked out a few feathers, trying her absolute best to stay in the present, but even the wind whipping against her wings couldn't prevent her from falling. She tumbled through the air, switching rapidly between human and bird forms in an effort to remain airborne. But nothing could stop her momentum. Willow begrudgingly landed herself in an open meadow.
When she was back on two feet, she realized that the adjacent street was actually the Smith twins' street. Sarah Brown's cozy little cottage sat just down the road, a pleasant sight for Willow's bloodshot eyes. She marched towards the building not because of it comfort, though, instead desiring to see someone she knew to be inside. She nearly gave Sarah Brown a heart attack when she burst through the door.
"Willow! What are you doing back already?"
She didn't answer the poor woman. Heart wrenching at her terrible behaviour towards the kind Hufflepuff, Willow stomped into the kitchen, finding Sirius exactly where she'd left him three mornings previous. He shot to his feet at the sight of her.
"How did the trial go? Did you win? What happened with- ?"
"Can I talk to you for a moment? Please?" Willow interrupted.
Sirius shot her a look, but Willow simply turned on her heel and strode into the living room. Sirius followed her, worry etched onto his face, but Willow hardly noticed.
"You had a brother, right? Regulus? Well, I haven't told anyone this, but I had a brother, too, Orion. He was two years older than me." Sirius's jaw dropped, completely floored. "Don't look at me like that. So yeah, I had a brother, and I was trying to forget all about him, because there's a lot of emotional trauma going on there, but just as I was beginning to think my friends were replacing his bad memories with good ones, Fudge goes asking about him at the trial. He said it was for ruling out the revenge motive, but I know better! That arsehole knew exactly what he was doing! He was purposely trying to throw me off balance, asking a question like that when he knew damn well Orion had nothing to do with it!"
"Wait, so did you win the trial?" Sirius asked hurriedly.
"Yes, of course, we had Dumbledore, but I didn't really pay attention to what went down after I was done. Fudge- he- he shouldn't have asked me that question. He knew better. He was playing with me. He knew what happened. He knew! My father and uncles work for the Ministry! They report directly to Fudge half the time! He knew what went down- he knew what asking that would do to me- he knew that it would dig up memories of camping trips, and sleeping under the stars, and eating desserts in London, and vacationing in New Zealand, and- and- "
Willow felt the lump form in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes. The sadness manifesting itself on the surface only pissed her off further. She forcefully pushed aside the sorrow and transformed it into rage.
"Willow, are you okay?" Sirius asked.
"No, I'm not okay! Fudge abused his power! He was trying to get me to say something stupid, then arrest me for it! I'm lucky that you all told me exactly what to say, or I would have exploded on him! He's lucky I didn't have my wand then! I could have blasted him to bits and not felt a damn bit of remorse. How dare he bring up Orion? Does he not know how much pain hearing his name causes me?"
Sirius took a step towards her. "Willow...you're not sounding like yourself. You would never hurt someone like that."
"Yeah? Well, Fudge deserves it!" Her blood absolutely boiled. She could have superheated the room, with the amount of pure rage pouring from her soul. "That bitch called me out in front of every person I ever cared about, aside from you and Deandra and Frodi! I didn't tell them about Orion because that was private! He- he spilled out my secrets in front of everyone! He made me weak in front of everyone! I can't get that back! I can't ever get Orion back!"
Sirius closed the gap between them to a single meter. "Willow, put the wand down. Please."
Willow glanced down to see her wand aimed directly at her heart. She looked up and noticed for the first time the intense fear in Sirius's eyes, the way he stood on the balls of his feet, ready to spring on her at any moment. Willow took a few paces backwards, stuffing the wand back into her pocket.
"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- you don't need to see me like this- I need to go- "
Willow sprinted out the back door and into the garden, blindly heading towards the weeping willow. She crashed through the swishing branches and collapsed at the foot of the tree, gripping the trunk for support. No matter how hard she tried to stop it, the sadness welling up in her chest overwhelmed the anger. She took great, gasping breaths in an effort to calm herself, but it was no use. The memories invaded her mind at a pace she'd never know, and at long, long, last, Willow Guerrero completely shattered.
The tears flooded down her face. Her entire body shook. She could see Orion's playful, mischievous eyes in the back of her mind. The feel of his hand in hers as they stomped across the puddle-strewn sidewalk; the sound of his famous belly-laughs after he pranked Grace; the taste of chocolate chip cookies that he "made" with heavy help from Abuela; it all came flooding back, and the emotions with it as they cascaded down Willow's face. Everything she'd worked so hard to bury over the past five years was ripped up in the blink of an eye.
"Willow! What is going on?" Sirius questioned, brushing past the weeping willow branches.
"Go away! I'll- I'll blast you to the next continent."
"Like hell you will."
Through Willow's blurry vision, she saw Sirius lean against the tree trunk. He brushed her hair out of her face. Even though she drew her wand on him, Sirius stayed put, less than a meter away.
"I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this. Get out!" Willow shouted.
Sirius pushed the tip of her wand away. "Willow, I'm not letting anyone else suffer like I did in Azkaban. You're not the only one who lost a brother. Just let me help."
Willow wanted to kick herself. Of course she'd forgotten that Sirius had lost Regulus. "I- I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's okay, you didn't upset me." Sirius paused. "If...if you're not going to talk, will it help if I will?"
"I don't know."
Sirius sighed. "I'll talk. I don't know how it happened for you, but I found out about Regulus's death in the obituary section of the Daily Prophet, one night in Azkaban. It was like someone had taken my world and flipped it upside down, then twisted it inside out. Regulus was the only family I had left that was at least decent to me. Merlin, even if he was horrible to me all that time, there still would have been a gaping hole in my life. Learning that the only brother I'll ever have died...I can't compare any number of hopeless situations to it. For the longest time, all I thought about was his final fight with me, and how I'd- how I'd never get to tell him that I loved him before the end."
Willow peeked her head up, hearing Sirius's voice catch. She wiped her face only to see that he was crying, too.
"I had a row with him, the last time I spoke to him," Sirius said. "I was trying to convince him to leave behind all this Dark Magic. He was drifting towards Voldemort and his Death Eater goons faster than I could stop him. Then the whole Harry situation happened, and I couldn't stop him. I left him. My little brother, left to his own devices by his older brother, the one who was supposed to protect him, even if that meant protecting him from himself."
Sirius looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. "It took a long time to forgive myself, but eventually, I came to terms with the fact that his death was not my fault. I'm not responsible for the choices anyone else makes, not even my little brother. All I can do is hope; hope that he was good in the end, and that it was over quickly."
Willow sniffled. "Sirius...I'm so sorry. I never realized it happened like that."
"It's okay. It's been a while, so I've gotten over it for the most part."
Willow swallowed hard, coming to a painful decision. "Sirius, I haven't told anyone this, either, but since you talked, I better reciprocate...my brother was murdered right in front of me."
Sirius gasped. "Oh my God...that's awful. How old were you?"
"I was nine. He was eleven."
Sirius put an arm around her. "I'm so sorry, Willow. No one should ever have to go through that. Merlin...how have you not told anyone that? You've kept that inside you all this time, and somehow managed to keep living. I think I have an idea now of how you thrived with that prophecy hanging over your head."
"Yeah, I think I'm pretty much invincible after something like that."
They fell silent for a long time, simply there for one another, allowing the emotions to seep out of them. Eventually, Sirius let out a mirthless laugh.
"This world is pretty messed up, isn't it?"
Willow nodded. "It really is..."
Over the course of the next five days, Willow spent her time in a haze. She refused to go home, though Carlos had sent her thirteen owl messages begging her to come back, and even Oliver's pleas couldn't get her to leave. Sarah Brown kindly allowed Willow to stay after the Gryffindor apologized for her rude behaviour. She couldn't bring herself to face her family after such an emotional breakdown. It had been nearly two years since she'd last cried, and even longer since she'd crumbled in front of her family. She couldn't let them see her vulnerable, especially since she'd convinced them that she was over Orion's death. They would be livid at her for lying.
Willow struggled to sleep for fear of dreaming about her past, so she lived each day in an exhausted blur of sitting in the garden with Sirius, practicing soccer, making small talk with the Smith twins, and eating a small portion of Sarah Brown's dinner. The nights were long and lonely. Every time she thought she might drift off to sleep, Willow's mind found yet another would-be wonderful memory and dredged it up for her to feel all over again. She broke her own heart hour by hour, sitting alone in the dark, reminiscing over golden times that had long passed into grey.
Every morning, without fail, Iris and several other owls would rush through the open windows and drop off countless parcels. Willow knew that her friends were trying to contact her, but she didn't open a single letter. She feared the questions that lurked inside the sealed envelopes, the possible heartfelt messages to soothe her aching heart. She didn't want any of it. She didn't want sympathy, but she didn't want them to turn their backs on her, either.
Willow just wanted to be left alone.
Her creatures sensed her sadness, especially Fidget, who stuck to her chest pocket like glue nowadays. Griffin and Phoebe always insisted on cuddling her to death at night, but unlike human touch, they didn't seem to coddle her, so Willow didn't mind. She cheered herself up a little each day by looking into their innocent eyes and remembering that there were much worse things in the world than her sadness, such as disappointing her magical creatures. It would do her a whole lot of good to pick herself up and get living again– mainly so her creatures wouldn't have to make fools of themselves for her to laugh.
Paige appeared on the third day to speak with her aunt and grandfather, and during that time, Willow avoided her with complete success. She eavesdropped on her conversation with Sarah Brown about where the Terrels would be going. Though it piled on a mountain of guilt, she found out that they would be travelling between a series of safe houses around the world, each belonging to a trusted friend of Sarah Brown or the Guerreros. Paige would not be permitted to go with them for everyone's safety. She hugged Frodi and Deandra tight and told them not to do anything stupid without her, then floo travelled back to London, back to her crappy life with her adopted parents.
There were definitely worse things in life, Willow reminded herself.
On the fifth day, Sirius announced that he would be leaving that afternoon, before he endangered Sarah Brown or the Smith twins. They protested, guaranteeing that the Ministry wouldn't come looking for him here, but he had already made up his mind, and he had mapped out a great travel plan along the equator that was sure to keep the aurors off his trail. Willow abruptly got up and left the table following his pronouncement and strode into the garden. Sirius soon followed, finding her sitting on the edge of the koi pond.
"Willow, I'm sorry, but you have to understand, this is for your safety and mine," he explained. "If I don't go, then every single one of us will be sentenced to the same fate, and I can't have that."
Willow paused for a long moment. "When did you first come to Hogwarts?"
"Uh...Halloween, last year."
"You- you realize that you've always been a short run away?" Willow said hoarsely. "When you leave, I- I won't be able to just come and see you whenever. I'll have to contact you by owl. For the past several months, I've always been able to run right to you, and now you'll be countries away. It's just- it's just not the same."
Sirius sat down beside Willow, letting out a half-laugh. "Is this your way of saying you'll miss me?"
"Yes! You know how much you mean to me. I mean, you're pretty much the only reason I survived those two months after the prophecy this year. If it weren't for you, I'd be in some mental hospital right now."
"Willow, you know you mean equally as much to me. Hell, you technically saved my life three times in less than a year. Not being able to see you is going to kill me. That's why I'm giving you this."
Sirius handed her what appeared to be a simple wristwatch. Willow shot him a quizzical glance. He smiled knowingly, gesturing for her to put it on. The moment she did, the digital time blinked twice, then disappeared, now replaced with a live image of Sirius. Willow's eyes widened when she recognized the same watch on his wrist.
"Oh my God, Sirius, where did you get this?"
"Those Weasley twins dropped these off one morning while you were out. They said they're some variation of the name tag prototype they created a few years back. Thought you'd appreciate the ability to contact me while I'm on the run."
Willow shook her head in disbelief. Leave it to Fred and George to create a whole slew of joke products, then cram in time to make something special for her. They had such a ridiculous way of showing they cared, but she wasn't about to complain. Willow played with some of the buttons on the watch until she got the hang of calling Sirius.
"Wow. This makes goodbyes a little easier, doesn't it?" she remarked.
"Almost. No goodbye is easy, though, is it?"
Sirius's eyes twinkled when Willow finally looked up. She could see both the sadness and the relief of leaving fighting to the surface. Even a few hours later the emotions remained strong. Wrapping him in a tight hug, Willow realized that Sirius was right on; goodbyes sucked, no matter how connected they would remain afterwards. Nothing could replace being with the jokester in real life. He would always be a spontaneous personality, and not receiving that surprise element every time she saw him would wound Willow worse than a knife– and she knew exactly how awful that felt.
"Please, Willow, go home to your family," Sirius whispered. "If not for yourself, then do it for me."
"I will," she promised.
Sarah Brown cloaked Sirius and Buckbeak with as many repelling and disguising charms as she knew, and with one final check to make sure he had everything he needed, he was off, disappearing into the afternoon sky. Willow knew he'd be back at the equator by nightfall, far beyond the Ministry's reach. He would be safe, wherever he was going, and that was all that mattered.
She still had to fight the temptation to fly after him.
Within minutes of Sirius leaving, Willow could feel herself longing to fill the hole in her heart. There was only one place to go: home. She packed up her miniscule amount of items, gathered up her creatures, and thanked Sarah and the Smith twins for their incredible hospitality. They collected all of her letters and stuffed them into Willow's pockets. At long last, bracing herself from the onslaught she'd receive, she stepped through the fireplace with her creatures and popped out into her very own living room.
Everyone was outside on the porch, watching the sunset. Willow quietly secured her creatures in the greenhouse for the night, then crept to the sliding glass door, waiting for the right moment to appear. Her family wasn't speaking, though, as they normally were. Even her uncles stared into the distance, lost in melancholy thought, worry etched into their features. Willow took a deep breath and stepped into the last light of day.
Carlos perked his head up. "Willow? Oh my God, Willow!"
Within an instant, her father had tackled her in a huge hug. Willow tentatively hugged back, shocked by his reaction. She had been certain her family would be ready to scold her for hours.
"What happened? After the trial, you disappeared, we thought you'd run off with your friends, but you weren't with them, we were worried sick!" Carlos blabbered. He brushed the hair out of Willow's face. "Then we heard from Sarah Brown that you were at her house, but that wasn't until yesterday! You scared us! Why would you run off like that?"
"I- I guess I just wanted to be alone," Willow mumbled.
Carlos gave her a sad smile. He knew that look in his daughter's eyes far too well. "I know, Willow, I know.
Abuela fussed over how skinny she looked and forced her to eat five s'mores to make up for it. Oliver cried happy tears for at least thirty minutes, telling her over and over how happy he was that she was home. Tío Cisco and Tío Leonel told Willow about the "small" prank they'd played on the Fawleys and Lucius on their way out of the trial, involving (harmless) flaming robes, synchronized owl flying, and forced singing charms. Willow laughed so hard that she almost cried again.
When the sun finally set, Abuelo tossed her a guitar and declared that she owed the family a song for being away for so long. Willow rolled her eyes, but was perfectly willing to let singing be her punishment, remembering the embarrassing punishment Carlos had once given her for storming off the soccer field. She tuned the guitar for a moment, then began to strum a few chords.
Away, away, we go away
I see the meadow's fawns...
Oliver gasped. "I know this one!"
"Then join in!" Abuela chuckled.
The grass grows along the river's edge
And the current sings its song...
Willow's melodious notes rose above her family's as they joined her in singing the happy, light-hearted song. Her mood lifted with every verse, and her voice blended beautifully with each and every person present. Their harmonious sound rose above the trees, lifted to the sky, and covered the whole home with positive, cozy feelings. By the time the song ended, Willow knew that the hole in her heart had been filled, and she would finally be okay again.
The Guerreros stayed up late into the night. At long last, Oliver yawned and began to drift off, so Abuela announced it was time to turn in. Carlos picked up his adoptive son and carried him upstairs. Willow brushed her teeth and changed into her tank top. She returned to her bedroom, only to stop in the entrance, a smile spreading across her face. Oliver had moved his bed into Willow's room while she was gone. Only the night stand separated their beds. The last time she'd shared a room with someone had been when Orion was alive, but for some reason, this felt no different. She climbed into bed and clicked the lamp off, staring at the stars beyond her window.
So maybe I have lost a brother...but now I've got one more.
Willow fell asleep smiling for the first time in ages.
"Oliver, Willow, vamos!"
"Estamos viniendo!"
Willow and Oliver grabbed the last of their green accessories and raced down the stairs. Carlos opened the front door, and they stepped outside. They double checked to make sure they had their tickets, wands, tent, and other gear in their backpacks, then made the final preparations to apparate.
"Ready?" Carlos asked.
"It's the freaking Quidditch World Cup! Let's go!" Willow cheered.
Carlos held out his arms, and Oliver and Willow each took one. They braced themselves, then suddenly were whisked away to a whole other place. Willow stumbled when her feet met solid ground. Carlos helped her remain upright, then caught Oliver when he nearly keeled over sideways. They brushed themselves off and took in their surroundings with shining eyes.
"Ah, there you are, Carlos!" a Ministry official called, hurrying up to them. "You'll be in the second field, over by the woods. Be careful when you get to the Muggle, alright? He's been needing memory charms all day..."
"Thank you, Basil," Carlos said as the official hurried off.
They made their way down a hill and to a small cottage that Willow assumed was the campsite owner's house. A Muggle named Mr. Roberts greeted them. The Guerreros were in touch enough with Muggles, thankfully, to know how to deal out paper money instead of galleons. Mr. Roberts sent them on their way without so much as a suspicious blink. Oliver and Willow ran ahead with excitement.
The biggest gathering of wizards Willow had ever seen sprawled out before them. A whole city of tents, ranging from Muggle-worthy to downright magical, formed row after row after row of magical campsites. Wizarding families with small children and grown adults alike camped side by side. Willow peered around with sharp interest in the familial campsites. She'd always been interested in how normal wizarding families operated, raising their children surrounded by magic their whole life. Toy broomsticks, pet kneazles, kid-safe potions, and so much more nurtured young witches and wizards from around the world. Willow would have felt jealous, but growing up in the Muggle world meant getting the best of both worlds, so she remained in reserved curiosity.
They found their campsite with no problem and pitched the tent. Carlos discreetly pulled out his wand.
"Capacious extremis!"
Although no visible change occurred, Willow knew better. She led the way inside the tent and grinned at Oliver's flabbergasted expression. The canvas on the outside hardly looked big enough for one person, but once inside, the tent expanded into a four-room home away from home. There were two bedrooms to their left and right– each almost as spacious as their rooms at home– and a kitchen directly in front. An open living room equipped with a couch and a TV greeted them the moment they walked in. Carlos dusted off the sink and got the water running.
"There, make yourself at home!"
Willow and Oliver raced to the bunk beds and both claimed top bunks, laughing the whole time. They tossed their bags in the corner, then made sure their wands were tucked away in their pockets, and finally emerged into the sunlit field. Apparently, their campsite was on a thoroughfare, adjacent to the widest path in the whole campground. To their left, a sea of green announced the presence of Irish fans. Shamrocks and green glitter showered every tent within a square kilometer. To their right, an equally sized area was covered in burgundy, white, and green, after the Bulgarian flag. Each and every tent within the area sported a poster of the same player.
"Who the heck is Krum?" Oliver asked as they passed by his image.
"Apparently the Bulgarian seeker. Look how he's scowling!" Willow said.
"I- I don't mean to judge or be mean, but he's rather unattractive," Oliver giggled. "The scowling makes him look even worse."
"Agreed. I'm glad we're rooting for the Irish."
They checked in with Carlos, then headed back out to explore the enormous campground. In the Irish super-fan section, they found Seamus and Dean and stopped to chat for a little while. Willow noted that the boys held each other's hand when they got excited, but she didn't say anything, not wanting to spoil the moment. She and Oliver grinned knowingly at each other and laughed all the way across the field. They travelled all the way to the edge of the thoroughfare, and even a little ways into the woods, where a sort of path continued all the way up to the edge of a moor. Willow could just make out the outline of the enormous quidditch pitch on the edge of her vision. It was bigger than any building she'd ever seen, rivalling even the wizarding section of the London Zoo.
How many people are here to watch this match?
She began to get an idea of the sheer size of the event as the afternoon wore on. Willow saw flags from every country imaginable proudly strung up outside tents of all kinds. In one corner, couple of witches from Tanzania sat around a fire, dressed in brilliant light blue robes. In the middle of the first field, some Castelobruxo students made fun of each other in Portuguese. Willow even saw a group of at least fifty wizards from America tossing a football and grilling burgers. She'd gotten an idea of the global aspect of the wizarding world when she'd visited Uganda, but never before had she seen such a vast, global gathering of wizards. It was truly a sight to see.
Throughout their walk, Willow and Oliver talked with familiar and new faces alike. They caught up with Oliver Wood, who excitedly informed them of his signing with Puddlemere United's reserve team, and later found Angelina Johnson reading the Quidditch World Cup program. Miremba and a few of her friends from Uagadou came running up to Willow from behind. They had a great conversation about the research project going on in Kenya. Miremba excitedly explained how she, along with a handful of other students, had mastered self-transfiguring into an elephant, and now they were going into the neighboring country and studying the true effects of Muggle conservation efforts on the elephant reserves by actually communicating with the animals. Willow hoped she would get to do projects like that in her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts.
When the sun finally set, Willow and Oliver returned to their campsite for a wonderful dinner of campfire enchiladas. The Ministry officials finally gave up on preventing blatant use of magic, and sellers of all kinds of souvenirs began to apparate along the thoroughfare. Omnioculars, self-moving action figures, and accessories of all kinds for both teams that squealed the players' names demanded attention. Carlos handed Willow and Oliver some galleons and told them to have at it, as long as they got him an Irish hat. They did as they were told, then bought a pair of omnioculars, a bright green Irish rosette, and an interesting pocket book that magically flashed quidditch tips across its front cover. Willow and Oliver were having the time of their lives.
After watching a cool competition between the Irish and Bulgarians to create the biggest and brightest fireworks, Carlos announced that it was time to head to the stadium. At long last, the moment they'd waited for all day had arrived. The three Guerreros adorned their souvenirs and joined the crowd streaming towards the woods. Willow had to be yanked back by her shirt several teams to keep her from running ahead. She couldn't help it! She was so excited! Quidditch was almost as amazing as soccer to her young mind, and to watch a world cup alongside a hundred thousand witches and wizards? This was the greatest night of her life!
The Ministry witch checked their tickets, then sent them to the highest seats the stand could provide. Willow and Oliver raced to the top, nearly shredding the elegant purple carpet that had been laid across the stairs. They tied, much to their lament, but they quickly forgot about it when they saw an entire family of familiar faces. The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione sprang to their feet to greet them.
"Blimey, Willow, you didn't tell us you were going to be here!" Fred cried.
"Oliver! Wow, you look good in green!" Hermione cheered.
"How are you doing, Carlos?" Mr. Weasley said.
Willow and Oliver took their seats beside their friends. Fred noticeably shoved his twin next to Willow, but she brushed it off. She thanked them for giving her the fancy watch, then discussed Ireland's chances of winning, along with questioning their sanity for betting all their savings on Ireland winning after Krum catches the snitch. It made sense, though, considering Krum appeared about as smart as a toddler troll. She wished them good luck and turned her attention to the teams warming up.
When the Malfoys walked in, the joyful atmosphere grinded to a halt. Willow could have sworn the temperature dropped ten degrees. After exchanging an icy glare with Lucius, she made sure to positively grin at Draco and Narcissa. The Weasleys and Carlos clearly only acknowledged the Malfoys because of the presence of the Ministers of Magic from both Bulgaria and Britain. Fred and George turned their backs the moment the Malfoys sat down and made snarky comments that they knew only the snotty family would hear. Willow couldn't help but smile at their crafty words.
The match thankfully began, and Willow's attention was redirected. The Bulgarian mascots presented their team in peculiar fashion. Willow realized only too late that the mascots were veela, beautiful, silver-skinned humanoids whose dances entranced wizards in a haze of love. She suddenly felt like she had to do something, anything to impress the women; maybe she could transform into a dragon and breathe fire into the stadium? No, she had to think bigger- there had to be something more impressive-
Suddenly, Oliver kicked her from behind. "Don't you dare. They're just trying to entrance you."
Willow blinked. "What?"
"Those are veela. You know that. They're trying to make you support the Bulgarians."
"Oh- OH." Willow blushed profusely. "Dear God, I didn't need them to prove my sexuality like that. They didn't affect you, did they?" Oliver shook his head. "Wow. That's sad."
Ginny giggled. "Willow's in love with the veela!"
"I am not!"
Thanking God that the veela stopped dancing, Willow turned her attention back to the field. The Irish mascots–a mass of leprechauns–threw gold coins from atop a rainbow as they raced around the field. Willow caught as many as she could and quietly handed them to Ginny, who beamed mischievously. The teams were introduced one by one, and the crowd, one hundred thousand strong, screamed and cheered and shrieked at the top of their lungs. When the teams took their positions, the referee blew the whistle, and the match began.
Willow had never seen such an unbelievably quick quidditch game in her life. The teams worked together like well-oiled machines, passing the quaffle around quicker than she could think. Oliver used the omnioculars to slow the action down, but Willow didn't want to miss a single second. She hardly dared to blink. The Irish scored goal after goal right off the bat, and she admired the speed and precision the team used to get the ball down the field. She had light years to go if she wanted to play for a professional quidditch team.
When the Bulgarians began to fall behind, their frustration translated into a whole slew of fouls. Beaters "missed" bludgers and clubbed players in the side of the head; chasers shouldered each other off their brooms; keepers were tackled from behind with no motive other than rage. It was getting increasingly dangerous by the second, and Willow would have been lying if she said she didn't love it. The bruiser attitudes of the players riled her up and helped her enjoy the game more than ever before.
All of a sudden, Krum dove after the snitch, the Irish seeker on his tail. Willow exchanged an excited look with twins; Ireland was up 170 to Bulgaria's 10! If Krum caught the snitch now, Ireland would win! The twins and Willow screamed louder than ever before for the Bulgarian seeker to catch the snitch. They were neck and neck- the Irish seeker shouldered Krum- Krum suddenly pulled ahead- the Irish seeker was crashing into the ground- Krum had the snitch!
"OH MY GOD! WE WON! IRELAND WINS! YOU WON YOUR BET!" Willow screeched.
"YEAH!" the twins cheered.
They high-fived, then executed a series of handshakes that Willow could hardly keep up with. Then, George turned to hug her, picking her right up off the ground and spinning her around. Willow laughed and cheered ecstatically. George set her down, then surprised her by suddenly pressing his lips to hers. Willow blinked in surprise when he pulled away. George apparently realized what he'd done, and his face turned beet red.
"Sorry- didn't mean to do that- "
Willow grinned and pecked him on the cheek, shooting him a wink. "Don't worry, I didn't mean to do that either."
George rolled his eyes and gently slapped her. He darted away with his twin to collect their gambling earnings. In his place came Ginny, hugging Willow and squealing, "We won, we won!" over and over and over. She put her arm around the excitable girl and watched the Irish receive their World Cup trophy. They yelled their lungs out in celebration, doing a sort of happy jig in the glee of the moment. All the way back to their tents, they skipped and laughed and cheered together, the joy flooding through their systems like a drug.
Willow only left her redheaded friends to head back to her tent with Oliver and Carlos. They watched the Irish launch celebratory fireworks and sing patriotic songs for a good two hours. Carlos made them cast-iron cherry pies, and they ate in a content silence, the night alight with enthusiasm. It was the best Willow had felt in ages. By the time she went to bed, still dressed head to toe in Irish gear, her face hurt from smiling for so long.
She was laying there for a good hour, watching the leprechauns zoom overhead, when suddenly she felt that something was wrong. Her entire body buzzed with that familiar electrical warning. Willow sat up, rubbing her sore temples. She willed her powers to enhance her hearing and listened hard into the night sounds.
That was when she heard the screams.
Willow scrambled down her ladder and poked her head outside her tent. She clapped a hand to her mouth in horror at the scene. A group of dark-robed wizards had drawn their hoods over their heads and masked their faces. They marched in a group, slowly, as if they were in a funeral procession, but with all the glee of a graduation ceremony, down the length of the thoroughfare. Mr. Roberts and his wife and kids were levitating above their heads. The dark wizards spun them around and laughed as they played with them, silencing their screams all the while. They lobbed fireballs at tents as they went by and cheered when they exploded into flames. Willow gripped her stomach, for a moment thinking she was going to be sick.
Then the anger arrived.
The sudden realization of what was truly going on released a wave of adrenaline into her system like she'd never felt before. These were Death Eaters, cowardly, sickening Death Eaters, and they were making a statement out of the Muggle Roberts family. How dare they torture those kind people? How dare they target innocent, defenseless human beings? How dare they destroy everything in their path just because they thought they were above everyone else? They were nothing!
"Carlos! Oliver! Wake up!" Willow cried, clanging two pans together. "Wake up!"
Both boys were up within seconds. Willow rushed them outside, and they took in the damage with wide eyes. Oliver began to cry and instinctively reached for his wand. Carlos gave them each and hug and kneeled in front of them.
"I have to go help those Muggles. You guys get out, and take with you as many people as you can, but don't you dare put yourself in danger, you hear me?"
Willow nodded. "Just go!"
Carlos sprinted off toward the other end of the thoroughfare. Willow placed her hands on Oliver's shoulders and looked him hard in the eyes.
"Okay, I know it's scary, but I know more than anyone that you're going to keep it together. Oliver, I need you to be brave for me. Gather up Dean and Seamus and the Weasleys and all the people you can find and direct them to the woods. Don't go anywhere near the fires and the bad guys. You have to get out of here. They're targeting Muggleborns."
Oliver nodded, wiping away his tears. He took a few deep breaths. "I can do it. What are you going to do?"
"I've got to get everyone out. Just go! Get everyone to the woods!"
Oliver gave her a quick hug, then set off towards the trees, calling at the top of his lungs for people to follow him. Willow watched him for a few moments, praying to God for his safety, then was galvanized into action by a stray fireball. The explosion missed her by mere meters. Hysterical laughter followed the detonation. Willow glared daggers at the Death Eaters. Steeling herself, she sprinted towards the mayhem, only stopping to dodge another spell.
"AAAH! Help me!"
Willow suddenly skidded to a stop. She frantically cast around for the source of the noise, but everything was fire, smoke, and screaming. She frustratedly enhanced her senses, and then she heard it: tiny, petrified shrieking, coming from the tent to her right. Willow darted inside to find two little girls trembling on the floor.
"Come on, come on! I've got you!"
The little girls ran into her arms, tears streaming down their faces. Willow waded through the smoke and finally emerged outside. She practically carried them away from their flaming tent, then shoved them towards the other end of the thoroughfare.
"Get to the woods! Run!"
The little girls took off as fast as they could, tripping over each other in their haste to get away. Willow turned on her heel and ran back into the mess. She shielded a few families from volleys of fire and directed them away, then began running into each and every tent, barely keeping ahead of the Death Eaters' pace. Countless young kids remained in their tents when their parents had already run away. Willow grabbed them by the arm, the shirt, the hood, and dragged them all to safety. A steady stream of children ran towards the woods from her actions. She was almost to the end of the thoroughfare when a ball of light exploded to her left.
Willow was thrown backwards by the impact, flying through the air for several meters, then landed hard on someone's tent. Her flaming shirt quickly lit the canvas. Willow stumbled to her feet, clutching her head, and swatted the fire out on her sleeve. But that only solved one of her problems. The tent had caught fire so fast, half of it was already enveloped in flames. It was one of those castle-tents, sprawling across several campsites, and it was beginning to collapse in the part where Willow had fallen. When a scream sounded inside, her flood froze. A family was trapped!
Willow leapt through the wall of fire and tumbled into the living room. Two wizards and their daughter cowered on the kitchen floor several rooms away, warily eyeing the growing hole in their roof. Willow motioned for them to come to her.
"Come on, let's go! There's still time!"
Much too slowly for comfort, the family took her by the arms and allowed her to guide them through the tent. But when they reached the entrance, they found it already blocked by a collapsed cabinet, fire, and smoke. Willow swore loudly. She cast around for another exit. There was no back door- the tent was nearly impossible to break- the roof!
Willow bit her lip. Going through the roof would mean transforming in front of these people, but they would soon be trapped inside the collapsing tent and become consumed by the flames if they didn't move. Willow hoped to God that they'd think she was an animagus as she detached their hands from her arms.
"It's all going to be alright!" she shouted above the chaos. "I'm going to save you!"
Concentrating with all her might, Willow began the transformation. Her limbs shortened, her back sprouted wings, and scales seamlessly covered her armored body. Willow opened her eyes and no longer felt the heat against her fireproof form. The family scrambled a few paces backwards.
No, no! Willow wanted to scream. Come on, get on my back, you fools!
She tossed her head towards her back, but the family still scooted away, the terror clear in their eyes. Willow heard the crack of the wooden supports and knew they only had seconds before the whole structure collapsed. She desperately waddled to the family and kneeled down before them.
Let's go! Get a move on!
The little girl hesitantly stepped onto Willow's back, and despite her fathers' calls for her to stop, she climbed between Willow's wings. She begged her fathers to get on the dragon's back. Willow wanted to scream at them to listen to their daughter, but she remained perfectly still, not wanting to upset the progress they'd already made.
MOVE!
At long last, the wizards made the life-saving decision the climb aboard. Willow unfurled her wings and faced the hole in the roof. She shot a jet of fire at it and succeeded in creating just enough space for her to slip through. Amid the creaking and cracking of the wooden supports, Willow launched herself off the ground and took to the sky. The wizards and their daughter screamed as the wind whipped their faces. Far below, the tent groaned and collapsed completely. Willow could have sighed with relief.
They flew over the campsite and finally landed in the woods, scaring a great deal of the fleeing witches and wizards. Willow tipped her body to one side and gently set the wizards and their daughter down, then transformed back into her human self, falling exhaustedly to her knees. A crowd of wizards suddenly pressed in, curiously staring at the girl that had just been a terrifying Chinese fireball. Willow reddened when one of the rescuees kneeled before her.
"You...you saved us. You saved our daughter. What is your name?"
"Oh, Willow, but it's not a big deal- "
The wizard put his hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you so much for saving us- and our Lindie."
Willow saw the little girl peer over her father's shoulder, beaming excitedly. "Thank you, Fire Flier!"
"Oh- my name's Willow- you don't need to- "
"Let's hear it for the Fire Flier!" someone cheered.
Without warning, Willow was pulled to her feet, and the crowd jostled her around, chanting her new nickname. Willow blushed a deep scarlet and tried to tell them that she was just a regular witch, but they insisted upon calling her a hero. All the children and families she'd saved continuously chimed in with stories about her saving them. Willow thanked her lucky stars when Oliver, Fred, George, and Ginny fought their way through the crowd.
"Guys! You're safe, thank God!" Willow hugged each one of them in turn. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?"
"We're all fine," Ginny said. "Oliver found us. He helped all the people trampled by the stampede get to safety."
"Honestly, he should be the one they're chanting about," Fred commented.
Oliver blushed. "It's not a big deal."
"Bull! I'm sure they're telling the truth," Willow said.
"What happened to you? What's all this chanting about?" George asked.
"I went through all the tents in the thoroughfare and got everyone out before the fires could collapse their tents. These wizards and their daughter wouldn't leave their palace-tent thing, so I had to fly them out of there before it could kill us all. It was a last-minute decision, really, and it saved my life as much as theirs, but- "
"Make way, make way! I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet!"
Willow's blood froze in her veins. Before she could stop it, a squat man in fancy robes dragged her to where the wizards and Lindie were gathered. Willow threw an embarrassed smile on her face right as the reporter snapped a blinding flash photograph.
"That'll make the front page, it will!" the reporter said. "Nothing less for the saviour of the Head Auror's daughter."
Willow blinked. "Did you just say- ?"
"Willow! Willow, where are you?"
She flicked her head in that direction. "Dad!"
The crowd finally began to disperse, and Carlos was able to fight his way to his daughter, accompanied by Oliver, Ginny, and the twins. Willow nearly crashed into her father in her hurry to get to him.
"Why are they chanting Fire Flier? What did you do?" Carlos fretted.
"Typical Willow stuff," George said. "You know, shape-shifting, saving the Head Auror and his daughter, the usual."
"You did what?"
Suddenly, the crowd let out a horrific scream. Willow glanced around to find everyone's eyes glued to the sky. She peered upwards only to stumble backwards in terror. A misty green skull, looming over the dark forest, sprouted a ghost of a snake from its mouth. The faint sound of screaming came from further into the woods.
"Is...is that...the Dark Mark?" Ginny squeaked.
Willow swallowed hard. "Yeah." She exchanged a glance with Carlos, fear eating away at her gut. "Does this mean...?"
He held her gaze for a long, impossibly tense moment, then gave a slight nod of his head.
Willow fell to her knees, closer to throwing up than she was earlier. The Death Eaters were here, making a statement. The Fawleys had to have been there. They were planning something. They were planning something big.
And that meant Grace was caught up in the middle of it.