A/N: I'll be honest; this chapter took me forever to write. I knew what needed to happen, but I couldn't quite figure out how to go about getting from Point A to Point B. Thank you for your patience, and I dearly hope by the end of this chapter you, as readers, will feel the wait was worth it! As always, reviews are welcome.


Chapter 4

Although the prospect of attending the Quidditch World Cup filled Draco with eagerness, the same could not be said about the Muggle clothes they had to wear before entering the campsite. Despite his father's attempts, he couldn't secure a permit to Apparate directly to their site. No, they had to do things by the book.

Narcissa, of course, had paid somebody to supply proper Muggle clothing for the occasion. To Draco's dismay, this included a pair of Muggle jeans that felt more restricting than his clean, pressed trousers; a pair of horrendous white sneakers; a far-too-casual t-shirt; and a drawstring jacket that he highly doubted would keep out the chill as effectively as his traveling cloak.

"Why on earth do Muggles wear these things?" he grumbled to Carina as they walked to the entrance of the campsite, tugging on the belt loop of his waistband as though it might loosen the garment a little.

"At least you have proper pockets," she shot back in disgust. "Look at this! I can barely fit a third of my hand on these front ones, and this one is a fake pocket! Who on earth designed these? You can barely fit anything inside them!"

Draco snickered a little at the ridiculous lack of depth and shoved his hands into his own pockets just to watch Carina's face darken in envy.

Once they reached their site, their father wasted no time in summoning a house-elf to set up their tent. Billowing swaths of black and white cloth, accented with Bulgarian red, burst forth from nothing at the snap of the elf's fingers. The final product resembled their mansion from home on a much smaller scale, with only three floors instead of their familiar five and two lower levels. Shortly after, the house-elf vanished with a distinct pop!

When the elf returned moments later holding the leads of four large, white peacocks, Draco shared a pained look with Carina. One of them let out a high shriek as it studied its new habitat and Draco cringed at the noise. He'd have to ask Carina to put a Silencing Charm around his quarters in the tent if he wanted his ears intact before the Quidditch Cup.

Throughout the day Narcissa hosted tea parties in the tent parlor for her social acquaintances and Lucius invited a few select individuals to the tent for other business. Draco could tell that Carina itched to be listening at the door, but since her debut, there had been a painfully obvious tension between her and their parents. Lucius had taken to placing Silencing Charms around his study during these meetings, and it drove Carina mad.

So Draco convinced her to explore the field with him, studying the newcomers as they flooded the space. Their tent was at the epicenter of Bulgaria's supporters, but the divide between the seas of green and red was obvious. The closer the Cup came, the more people pressed into the field and the less Draco could breathe outside of their tent.

As the match grew nearer, Lucius held a decidedly exclusive meeting in his study. Even Narcissa had been included, while Draco and Carina were explicitly instructed to remain on the ground level. Carina had argued, but ultimately she complied when the first of her father's guests arrived. Grumbling, she joined Draco in the lounge.

"It's ridiculous!" she burst, practically flopping onto the couch. "I'm an adult, and I know something is going on, but they treat me like a child."

Draco snorted and she tossed a glare at him.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're seventeen, Carina," he said. "You may be of age now, but you still have an entire year of school left."

She groaned, rolling onto her back and covering her face.

"Good thing Mother can't see you," Draco taunted, raising the pitch of his voice to imitate Narcissa. "I didn't realize I was raising a Muggle child."

Carina stifled a laugh and sat up. The humor fled her features though as she peered longingly upward.

"I wish they'd trust us enough to tell us what's going on," she said quietly.

Draco frowned, sobering. "You don't think it has something to do with what happened at your debut, do you?"

Carina shook her head slowly. "No, I… I'm not sure. Father seemed pretty upset about that, but with this he seems more determined."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe it's nothing," he suggested.

Carina sighed and stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Want to come?"

He considered for a moment. "Might as well. I've got nothing better to do right now."

"I feel like they're planning something," Carina confided as they strolled into the sunlight.

Draco blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted, then noticed Carina had stiffened next to him. Glancing up, he saw why. Making their way through the Bulgarian camp were three figures he knew all too well.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger wandered through the camp, completely awestruck at their surroundings. All three of them wore Muggle clothing, though unlike most other witches and wizards they'd seen on the field today, the three of them seemed comfortable in their attire. Weasley swung a bucket in one hand, and Draco assumed they'd been on their way to the line at the water spout. As they walked, they laughed and smiled, and something hard formed in Draco's stomach at the sight of them.

"I didn't think the Weasleys could afford tickets," he muttered to Carina. She nodded her head minutely in agreement.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger paused a few meters in front of their tent, gawking at their peacocks. Granger's mouth had dropped open a little at the sight of their tent and the bird, but she snapped it shut upon spotting him. Potter, however, narrowed his eyes at Draco. He wrinkled his nose in response.

"I thought I smelled something foul," Draco taunted.

"Must be your birds," Potter shot back. Granger, predictably, reached out to seize both boys by the arms.

"Harry, leave it," she warned quietly. Draco smirked.

"Better listen to your girlfriend, Potter," he suggested. "She's the only one with half a brain between the three of you."

Granger's cheeks pinkened as she dragged her friends away, telling them that it didn't matter.

Beside him, Carina sighed. "Must you provoke them?"

Draco knitted his eyebrows together as he stared after the trio. "Why not? It's true, isn't it? Granger's the only one with anything resembling cleverness. Besides, they should know their place."

Carina didn't answer. Glancing sideways at her, Draco realized that she was no longer listening. In fact, she seemed fixated on something in the distance. He peered into the pandemonium of the match-goers, but couldn't decide what she was looking at. Instead, he pulled up his sleeve to study the little inked ship. A breeze had been kicked up, and gentle waves lapped the sides of it.

Draco raised his head and stared into the crowd of people as they milled about, then turned his gaze to Carina. His tattoo displayed her excitement, but her expression was completely focused.

"What are you looking at?" he finally asked.

Carina jumped and a pink tint colored her cheeks.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I was just wondering about Lyra. Her father was able to get tickets."

Draco rolled his eyes at the obvious excuse. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

Carina huffed indignantly and set off in a random direction. "Are you coming or what?"

Though her avoidance bothered him, he quickened his pace to catch up.


That evening, Draco accompanied his parents and sister to the Top Box, where the Minister of Magic greeted them eagerly. His eyes raked over the luxurious purple and gold seats reserved specifically for the Minister and his guests. His mood instantly soured when he saw who they would be sharing the space with.

Eight green-clad Weasleys, with Potter and Granger were seated together, just in front of a pitiful little house-elf covering its eyes with its enormous ears. The whole lot of them reminded Draco of a great, misshapen green clover that had been stamped on too many times. Draco narrowed his eyes in a hateful glare at Potter and his two friends. The boys glared back while Granger studied them with a decidedly guarded expression.

While his father and Mr. Weasley pretended to make nice in front of Fudge—the man was ridiculously oblivious to the tension between the men—Carina leaned over.

"Isn't it odd how we've switched colors?" she whispered in his ear, motioning subtly to the Irish merchandise.

Draco laughed under his breath as he glanced at his sister and realized that the two of them were, indeed, decked out in scarlet in support of Bulgaria. There were the Weasleys, Gryffindor to the core, drenched in Slytherin green while he and his family sported a close match to the Gryffindor scarlet. He never thought he'd see the day. The tense moment broke as Draco and Carina followed their parents to their seats.

"Did you notice that the Bulgarian Prime Minister was speaking to one of the Aurors in English earlier when the Minister's back was turned?" Carina asked when they'd taken their seats. "Apparently Fudge has been miming to him all day. I don't know that I've ever seen a man so clueless!"

This time Draco laughed outright.

"I do pity the poor man," Lucius added dryly from Carina's left. "Favors the Weasleys far too much."

Draco glanced back at his Gryffindor classmates, who seemed to have already forgotten about him as they turned around to talk to the house-elf behind them. Somehow, he felt strangely irritated that they paid more attention to the elf than they did to him.

"You're pouting," Carina murmured beside him. "Stop it. They're announcing the teams soon."

Sure enough, Ludo Bagman eagerly bustled into the Top Box, bright yellow and black robes nearly blinding in their brightness.

"It'll be quite a close match," he was saying jovially. "Ah, Draco, my boy! You wouldn't be interested in making a wager, would you? The Weasley twins have placed quite an interesting bet. They think that Victor Krum will catch the Snitch, but Ireland will win the match! They were so certain that they bet their life savings! Quite unusual, yes…"

Draco exchanged a look with Carina as Bagman carried on, both declining his offer to place any bets. Even without their father's stern gaze on them, Draco knew gambling was less than proper. Instead, he took solace in knowing those obnoxious Weasley twins would ultimately lose every coin they possessed with their ridiculous wager. It couldn't have been more than five Sickles.

A few minutes later, the team mascots were introduced. Draco recognized the white-gold hair and slender bodies of the Bulgarian mascots almost immediately, and when the Veela began to dance, Draco's mind began to drift.

As the wheels in his head began to turn, somebody snatched his Omnioculars from his hands and Draco seemed to fall back into his body with a heavy thump! He turned to glare at Carina, but found his mother holding the Omnioculars.

"Don't look," she instructed him sternly. "I won't have you behaving like—" She gestured to the other side of the box, and Draco glanced over at the Weasleys, Potter, and Granger. Potter was poised at the edge of the box as though he might leap over the edge, one arm held captive by Granger as she tried to pull him back down. The youngest Weasley boy seemed determined to mutilate his shamrock hat until his father plucked it from his grasp. Draco laughed at the dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," Carina snickered. "You looked just as foolish a second ago."

Draco glared at her, but she simply flipped through her program with a smug smile on her face. He settled back in his seat, determined not to let her teasing dampen his mood. After all, they had a match to watch.


Later that evening—or rather, unnecessarily early the following morning—Draco was still trying to figure out if the Weasley twins had somehow managed to get their hands on a Time Turner in order to make a winning bet. Their accuracy was certainly unprecedented, but then again, perhaps they'd borrowed a trick from Granger…

Despite having had to share a box with them, Draco had found once the match started that it was all too easy to forget about Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys. He and Carina had nearly screamed themselves hoarse in support of Bulgaria, earning them a few glares from their father. Draco thought Lucius could hardly blame him—since he joined Carina on their House team at Hogwarts, he'd gained a whole new respect and perspective on the sport. Watching the fast-paced game had been exhilarating, right up until the moment Krum chose to end the game.

Draco scowled at the ceiling, hands behind his head as he listened to the ongoing celebration of the Irish win. Once the fireworks had started, his father had ordered a house-elf to return home with the panicked, shrieking peacocks. At least that was one ear-splitting headache out of the way.

Draco checked his watch and groaned, rolling out of bed and descending to the ground level where Carina was sketching in one of her many journals.

"Don't any of those leprechaun imposters believe in sleep?" he grumbled to her. Carina looked up at him with a wry smile.

"If they hold to the Irish traditions, they'll drink the night away and probably start a few accidental fires in the meantime," she told him. Draco's eyes widened the slightest bit as the face of one of his classmates rose to the surface of his mind.

"Somebody better keep Finnegan away from all fire hazards," he muttered.

"Who?"

"Classmate," Draco explained shortly. "The bumbling idiot has a tendency toward accidental explosions. He was rooting for the Irish."

Carina nodded, laying down the bit of charcoal in her hand and stretching out her fingers. Draco peered curiously over her shoulder at the drawing and his eyebrows rose.

"Veela?"

Carina nodded. "They were fascinating to watch during the match. You know, there are rumors that the Malfoy line carries a trace amount of Veela blood." She tapped her chin thoughtfully and turned to a new page as Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Rubbish," he decided. "If that were true, we wouldn't be one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, would we?"

"It would explain our good looks though, wouldn't it?" Carina teased. She bent over the page and began a rough outline. Draco craned his neck to see, but she blocked his view with her arm.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Just wait a minute," she insisted. "It's not ready yet."

Draco dropped into the chair next to her to sulk while she worked. "Fine. Where are Mother and Father?"

Carina's lips tightened. "They said they had something to prepare for."

"No wonder you couldn't sleep," Draco commented, and she shot him a look.

"I could sleep if I wanted to. I just felt like sketching a bit tonight."

She worked for several minutes as Draco watched, and at length she turned the book around to show him the finished product. Draco blinked as he pulled it near, studying the two figures with ferocious, avian features and wings sprouting from their shoulders. Upon closer inspection, he spotted the tattoos on their arms and nearly laughed.

"You've drawn us as Veela?" he asked.

"Angry Veela," Carina corrected. "They're quite fascinating, don't you think?"

Before Draco could respond, Narcissa descended the stairs with a pair of traveling cloaks draped over her arm.

"Put these on," she instructed. "Quickly now."

Draco shared a puzzled look with Carina, but did as they were told.

"Mum?" Carina asked. "What's going on?"

Narcissa offered a secretive smile. "Just a little… late celebration."

Lucius appeared just then, draped in a dark, hooded cloak. Draco spied a mask tucked into the crook of his arm and he cocked his head to one side, excitement bubbling inside him.

"You're going out tonight, aren't you?"

A sneer crept across his father's face. "I believe it's time for the riff-raff to remember their place in this world, especially those filthy Muggles who think they run this place."

Draco shot an eager look at Carina, but her expression remained worried.

"What about us?" she pressed. "Where will we be?"

"You and your brother will go to the forest," Narcissa said. "We need you to stay safe."

"Are you going too?" Draco asked, puzzled.

Narcissa shook her head. "No. I'll be staying here to pack up the tent."

Draco frowned at that, but nodded.

"How will we find you?" Carina spoke up again, and Draco noticed her clutching the journal tightly in her hand.

Narcissa reached for her hand and pressed an old, tarnished silver key into Carina's palm.

"Keep that with you," she instructed quietly. "Your father and I will be able to Apparate to you wherever you are."

Carina gave a solemn nod and closed her fingers around the key.

"Go now," Lucius ordered. "Keep to the forest, and stay safe."

Draco grinned at his parents, raised his hood over his head, and followed Carina quickly out of the tent and into the darkness. They moved quickly along the softly illuminated paths, ignoring the occasional leprechaun whizzing by overhead. He peered around the campsite, which looked a little eerie as they moved further from the Irish supporters and through the ghostly-still tents of the Bulgarian supporters.

"Keep up," Carina whispered over her shoulder, and Draco realized he'd fallen behind. He lengthened his stride to keep up with her swift gait and noticed her stiff movements as she walked.

"You look like you've been hexed," he told her. "Relax, would you? Nothing's even happened yet. Besides, none of Father's associates would hurt us."

"I'm not worried about us," Carina retorted quietly. "I'm worried about Father getting caught. They've taken an insane amount of security measures for this event."

"That's what will make this so brilliant," Draco boasted, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Death Eaters have slipped in right under their noses, and there's nothing the Ministry can do about it."

"Be quiet!" Carina hissed, whirling around to grab his arm. She lowered her voice even lower as she spoke in his ear. "People might still be awake. Do you want Father to get caught?"

Draco scowled and shook her off. "Alright, alright. Relax. He'll be fine." He brushed past her, heading for the tree line.

A few minutes passed in silence as they picked their way through the campsite and finally found refuge in the forest. As Draco leaned against a tree facing the site, Carina paced anxiously between two others.

Just then, a distant glow grew in the distance, followed by a few solitary screams and another flare of light. Draco watched as the chaos began to spread—slowly at first, then more rapidly as the entire camp awoke. He watched a flurry of disoriented figures spill from their tents in a panic, running about in sheer confusion.

"Look at them all," he said, snickering. Carina paused beside him and her expression darkened.

"I don't like this," she said, resuming her pacing.

Draco glanced at her. "Why not? Father's putting that Muggle family in their proper place, and the Mudbloods too."

At first Draco thought she'd simply chosen not to answer, but over the distant ruckus he realized her pacing had halted. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Carina had gone rigid.


She creeps down the hallway that feels too long in the dark. The unpleasant voices fade into distant nothingness as Daddy's friends take their leave of the Manor. Her baby brother sleeps all too peacefully in the room Mummy told them to share tonight. They share this room more nights than not these days. She misses sleeping alone and she's come to tell Mummy so.

Footsteps thump along the carpet in Daddy's study and she freezes, waiting to see if the voices coming from the door standing ajar are friendly.

"Lucius," Mummy says. Carina likes the way she says it better than Daddy's boss, the handsome man who visits with dark robes and even darker eyes. She creeps forward again

"All is well, my love," Daddy answers. "The Dark Lord is pleased with us. More pleased than with that pitiful excuse of a man who brought us false information from the Order."

Carina peers around the door. Mummy stands next to Daddy in front of his fireplace. Her back is turned, but Daddy's face is illuminated by the glow of the fire. He's happy about something and laughs, but something about it is wrong, somehow. She doesn't like this kind of laugh and notices how Mummy freezes.

"What's happened to him?" she whispers. Carina leans forward to hear.

"The Dark Lord has, ah, put him in his proper place, as all traitors ought to be. He has entrusted me with a precious and powerful artifact."

Daddy holds something up, and Carina presses her eye to the small opening to see it better. She frowns. It doesn't look powerful, she thinks. It's nothing but a small, black book…


Like icy rain sluicing down her back, voices jolted her back to the present. She clenched her fists to ban the memory of the book, trembling. Draco jostled her shoulder as his words became clearer in her ears.

"Carina? What's going on?" he asked, worry evident in his voice. Carina stared back at him, shaken by how similar his words had been to her father's from so very long ago…

Put in their proper place.

She slammed her eyes shut against the abrasive memory, and Draco's grip on her shoulder tightened.

"Carina, talk to me," he hissed, barely concealing his concern. Footsteps approached on the path, whispers filling the woods around them. Carina drew in a long breath, then opened her eyes. People were everywhere now, spreading through the woods as they fled a riot that had broken out in the camp, but none were close enough to be privy to their conversation.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "It's nothing."

Draco glanced down at his arm where her ship drifted on his skin. Moonlight flickered through the leaves overhead, betraying the agitated waves she struggled to navigate. An unspoken accusation lay in his eyes when he looked back up at her. Carina scowled and swatted his hand from her shoulder.

"It's really nothing," she insisted tensely.

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but another set of voices and footsteps drawing near blessedly captured his attention. As Draco turned to survey the newcomers, Carina leaned against the nearest tree. Despite the desperate need to pick apart the flashback, she filed it away for later analysis.

She gazed back at the camp and her stomach twisted. In the center of the camp, a large knot of people had formed. Over their heads, four little figures twisted uncomfortably as they struggled against Levitation charms. Her lips tugged downward in a frown. This was too reckless…

She flicked her eyes from the forming riot to the three approaching figures, and Draco scoffed.

"Of course," she heard him mutter as Potter, Granger, and Weasley stumbled along the path in the dark. It appeared only Granger had enough sense to light her wand to illuminate the way. Potter was patting himself down, turning out his pockets in frustration.

"I must've left it back in the tent," he lamented to his friends, who frowned.

"I'm sure we'll find it," Granger told him consolingly.

"Lost something again, have you?" Draco sneered. Carina rolled her eyes. Her brother never could pass up an opportunity to poke fun at his rival. "You're as bad as Longbottom, Potter. Should I get you a Remembrall for your birthday?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Weasley spat.

Draco leaned against the tree next to Carina, appraising them. "I'm not the one in danger, Weasley. But you, Granger, might want to keep your head down."

Granger, who had looked as though she might intervene and drag the boys away a moment before, stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you know?" he drawled. "They're after Muggles, Granger."

"Hermione's a witch," Potter snapped immediately.

"Shouldn't you two be out there wearing hoods with your parents anyway?" Weasley added, glaring at the Malfoy siblings. Carina folded her arms to keep from hexing the fool, returning the glare with fervor.

"I suggest you move along before you say something you regret," she said icily.

The Gryffindors flinched at her tone. It was one thing to get into a fight with Draco, but Carina was another force entirely to be reckoned with, and she knew it. A tense moment passed, and she wondered whether she might have to draw her wand. To her immense relief, the Gryffindors exchanged glances and moved away without another word.

Once they were out of earshot, however, Draco rounded on her.

"I didn't need your help," he told her irritably. "I've been dealing with Potter, the weasel, and the Mudblood for three years."

"Don't pretend you weren't going to say something stupid to clue them in about Father," she sighed wearily. The weight of the late hour and the concerns crowding her thoughts bore down on her as she leaned more heavily against the tree.

"I wouldn't betray him like that," he muttered grumpily. Normally this would be his cue to stomp into his bedroom to sulk, but he settled for sitting at the base of the next tree over to watch the spectacle. After all, they were meant to stay together for when their parents came to fetch them. Still, Carina smirked at the usual pout settling on his face.

The next several minutes didn't exactly pass in silence as distant screams reverberated through the air, accompanied by the cacophony of pounding feet and frantic whispers. Carina fingered the silver key her mother had given her, both parts eager and afraid to delve too deeply into the flashback before she was safely at home. Draco watched the riot, not speaking after her intervention.

Abruptly, green light burst forth high over their heads and after a shocked second, screams started anew. Startled, Carina scrambled to her feet with Draco immediately by her side. They could see nothing as they peered through the foliage.

"Come on." Carina seized Draco's arm and dragged him through the woods until they came to a small clearing where the sky was visible. Carina craned her neck, and when her eyes landed on the source of panic, her knees weakened and her mouth dried.

A gleaming, hazy green constellation had taken up residence over the forest in the shape of a skull, spilling a serpent from its mouth. It glittered like emeralds, scalding Carina's insides as she clutched Draco's arm for support.

"The Dark Mark," Draco breathed reverently beside her.

Exactly twelve seconds later, twin popping noises echoed in Carina's ears and hands seized both her and Draco. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could so much as suck in a breath, the painful squeeze of Apparition cut her off. A moment later, it was over, and Carina stumbled to the floor in the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

Carina flipped onto her back, wand already in hand until she recognized the ghastly pale faces of her parents. Her father's mask fell to the carpet as he and Narcissa knelt and pulled their children into a tight, uncharacteristic hug. Carina was so taken aback by the situation that the questions spilling into the vacant spaces of her mind went up in smoke. She clung tightly to her parents, simply relieved to be alive.