47. Moonlight

Harry jogged merrily as his arms were filled with all manner of international magical items.

"Harry slow down this instant. The stands aren't going anywhere", Hermione scolded as she attempted to catch her breathe.

Ron came to a stop just behind her. Unlike Hermione, he was preoccupied with stuffing his face.

Hermione huffed at how her male friends were hopelessly absorbed by the atmosphere of the Quidditch World Cup. If it wasn't Ron trying to eat his weight in food, Harry was snatching every magical trinket and souvenir or chatting with any magical race that would give him the time of day.

Harry was having quite a time. He made a note to get Mr. and Mrs. Weasley a gift for inviting him. Times like this made him wonder if this what a family outing was like.

"Harry, you seem to be having a bit of a situation", Hermione pointed out politely. Her attention was on Harry's hair. At the moment, it was wavering as though blown by the wind.

With an annoyed look, Harry willed his hair to cease its movements.

"You alright, buddy? You've been having bouts of accidental magic lately", Ron said as he put away his food.

Unlike their concern, the last Potter shrugged faintly. "It's nothing serious." Even as he said that, he found his senses flooded with all the magic of the area. It was like looking at fireflies bumbling together. Something inside of him told him that he could pluck any of them at any time. There were a fair bit of the light that seemed corroded and sickly.

Taking his eyes from the unpleasant sight, he continued, "I'm trying some new things."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously, "Does this have something to do with that spell book of yours?"

Her ire, and curiosity, only grew from the smile her friend gave. At times she worried if that book had some kind of lasting effects on Harry, at others she was too overwhelmed by the spells that he could use. The chants were unusual and varied.

"Does it make a difference? Not everything is about school", he said in boredom. This conversation was not a new thing. Good friends as they may be, Harry and Hermione's view on magic clashed like raging tides, usually leaving Ron to drown in the midst of it all.

"Knock it off you two. This is the World Cup not a ruddy debate." Ron narrowed his eyes, seemingly displeased with being the voice of reason in any topic or situation. To his delight, they let it go.

The merriment of the night came to a halt as panicked cries reached their ears. Turning around they gasped at the sight before them. Taking the moonlight as an invite, hooded wizards and witches marched across the field. As though their goal was to knit pain and fear into the hearts of the partiers.

Harry didn't so much see as he felt their delight in their actions. All the misery and panic was a meal to the robed one's egos. Trails of fires and explosions left the tips of their wands. Children cried in terror as parents picked them up and ran.

Even now, the monsters took this as invitation to incite further mayhem.

As the ground shook from further spells, the three raced to find the other Weasleys. "Down!" Harry roared as he leapt at his friends. As they crashed to the ground, they saw an arc of red burn tents ahead of them.

Seeing that they were now being targeted, he pulled out his spell book. Seeing this, Ron leapt to his feet and started using binding charms, Hermione provided defense with shielding charms. The masked and hooded figures became more fervent in their assault.

With glowing green eyes, Harry cut through the noise of the chaos to chant, "It is through reflection that we discover imperfection (Shield of Vengeance)." A green sphere surrounded the ill intent witches and wizards. Every dark curse that they blasted rebounded off the shields and struck their casters down. A number of them fell to the might of killing curses, some to fires and others suffered the force of explosions.

Reaching out with his senses, Harry could feel the magic that lingered upon the Weasleys. "Ron your family is that way", he cried as he pointed west. "For the one left behind, I must go forth (Terabithia's Bridge)." A golden bridge erupted from the ground and the new end submerged just before the rest of Ron's family, bypassing a lot of the stands and wreckage.

The trio ran upon the bridge. Just as they reached halfway, the green sphere dropped and the remaining enemies charged. Their wands were raised.

"Ron! Throw your food down!" Harry cried.

Without a second thought, Ron tossed every bit of food he had on his person.

Just as food hit the ground, Harry chanted once again, "Clear of bewildering dreams, I have become something monstrous (Metamorphosis)." Each of the morsels warped into giant grotesque roaches and beetles.

Startled the pursuers screamed as they came face to face with such creatures. Ron looked positively green from the display and Hermione looked like she was going to blow a blood vessel.

"Children!" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley cried out. The three friends raced to the end just as the bridge fell causing the frightful attackers to fall with giants insects descending upon them.

A single man that had averted the collapse of the bridge lunged at them with his wand high. His eyes were alight with madness that was reserved for true fanatics. Pale and freckled was his skin and fair was his hair. His teeth were almost fangs as he cackled at his target, "For the Dark Lord! Die POTTER!"

"If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear (Genesis of the Colossus)!" Heeding his chant, a large moss covered stone hand swatted the mad wizard away. Harry could hear the bones crack as the man tumbled.

His fellow conspirators held the fallen wizard as they disappeared in pops. Even as they fled, a magical stream originated from the nearby forest and reached the sky. Now illuminating the sky was the image of a smoky green skull with a snake in its mouth.

When the older generations saw it, a few people shook. A few people were silent. Most people were weeping. The mark heralded terrible things and bravery was dealt a mighty blow.

As the moonlight cast upon the faces of all there, Harry turned his back upon the mark. As his head dress swayed from an absent breeze, the mark was harshly washed away from the night sky by his very will.

The others soon left with him.