Oh god, I just saw this - this post in tumblr about recasting the whole HP characters, and it completely ruined my view of them! I can't imagine them any other way. If you wish to see them, I posted the link in my account.

Shout out to AmyRoxx123.

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley told Fred and George as we made our way down the steps of the Top Box.

"Don't worry, Dad, we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated," said Fred gleefully.

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what did he mean, but wisely decided to not know.

In the end, Ireland had won by ten points, with Viktor Krum having finished the game on his "own terms" as Harry put it. The crowd couldn't stop singing their happiness as we made our way out of the stadium, and the leprechauns had again risen to the skies, dancing merrily as they waved their lanterns. When we arrived to the tents, no one seemed tired enough to go and sleep and Mr. Weasley allowed us to at least have a cup of cocoa, saying that we would tire when the exhilaration wore off.

The twins were dancing around the tent in crouched positions, singing what sounded like an Irish song. Loyally, Ron jumped on the small table in front of me and started to murmur, chanting Viktor Krum's name as if it were sacred.

"There's no one like Krum," he said, lowly.

Having caught the solemn tone of their brother, the twins merely continued moving, this time saying, "Dumb Krum!"

"He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind," Ron continued. "He's more than an athlete… he's an artist!"

My eyebrows raised involuntary. "I think you're in love , Ron," I said, smirking slightly.

He gaped. "Shut up!" he said, glaring.

Unfortunately for him, I had encouraged Fred and George further with their teasing.

"Viktor, I love you!" said George, joined by Fred who hugged him and said, cheekily, "Viktor, I do!"

Then Bill joined them, taking me by surprise as he hauled me to my feet and make me whirl on the spot.

"When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" he sang, and I burst out laughing.

They continued doing the same for another hour until Ginny suddenly spilled her chocolate all over the table and Mr. Weasley, who had been speaking with Charlie, insisted for us to go to bed.

Hermione, Ginny, and I, were the only ones that left. I changed my clothes for an old yellow t-shirt and a pair of gray cotton pajamas, and I climbed to my bunk. Uncertain, I decided to place a pair of boots I had taken with me at the bottom of the bed. When my head fell on the single pillow, my eyes instinctively closed, and soon, I was swimming in the darkness.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. The so familiar screams of fear were a constant occurrence in my nightmares, and so accustomed to them, I didn't realize that something was wrong. But I began to suspect when, one, I was running through the dark misty forest, and two, I couldn't hear the mad cackling of my father's murderer.

And suddenly, almost imperceptibly, the smell of smoke reached my nostrils.

My eyes instantly snapped open and I jumped to my feet. I still couldn't see clearly, but blindly, I groped for my boots and put them on.

"Hermione!" I shouted. "Ginny! Wake up!"

Shadows danced from outside the tent, people were running in panic, and then there was a loud explosion.

Hermione, who had gotten up groggily, jumped from her bed, realizing the danger we were in. I ran at Ginny's bed and hauled her to her feet, ignoring her protests.

"Girls!" it was Mr. Weasley. He too, was wearing a pair of red pinstriped pajamas but had pulled on a pair of jeans over them. "We need to leave! There's no time to change clothes!"

He made that we came out first, lingering briefly on the tent before he was running after us.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward us, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

When I finally caught sight of them, I froze, and wide eyed, I let Mr. Weasley grab my arm and led me to the others.

The group of wizards walked steadily through the chaos, fire dancing at their feet, their black cloaks billowing behind them. Although hoods concealed their faces, I caught a glimpse of what they hid.

And I saw masks. Masks that looked all too much like skulls, made of steel. They were pointing their wands straight upward, and high above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes.

I screeched to a halt, stopping beside Harry, who was watching with the same dismay I felt.

More wizards joined the group, laughing and pointing at the figures above them, one of the cloaked men blasting a tent on his way. One of the newcomers made one of the figures float upside down. With a pang of horror, I saw that one of the floating persons was Mr. Roberts, the man from before, and the rest were probably his wife and children. The woman, who looked like she couldn't breathe from her position, was trying to cover her undergarments, and the crowd hooted and catcalled in glee.

"That's sick," said Ron in disbelief, watching as the smallest Muggle child spun from sixty feet above the ground, his head lolling from side to side. "That is really sick…"

"This can't be happening," I whispered. Before I thought it, I started to run at them, but I was stopped from behind.

"No -" I struggled, "We have to help them!" I yelled, trying to pry off the pair of arms around my mid-section. The scars on the forearms confirmed him to be Charlie.

"We will!" said Bill, and he, along with Percy, sprinted at them.

"Don't move!" Charlie barked and followed after his brothers.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood as Mr. Weasley disappeared. The rest of us followed him and the youngest Weasley, trying to stick close. But when we reached the trees, I looked back. The group of cloaked men beneath the Roberts family had increased, and Ministry wizards tried to get through the noisy crowd, but they didn't seem to make any progress.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium sparkled and died, leaving us in complete darkness. With the moonlight, I could barely see the figures blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around us in the cold night air.

I felt myself being pushed from either side, and I pushed back with whatever strength I could muster, but I was suddenly slammed by someone, and the tight hold I had on Hermione's hand loosened and I fell to my knees with a cry. The wind was knocked out of me. Panting, I tried tostand, but more people were pushing and I was again sprawled on the ground.

I could hear Hermione yelling for my name, I could barely see the guys fighting to get back but the crowd was pushing them away, away from where I was. I curled myself on a ball and closed my eyes, waiting for the blows to stop.

It was a while, but when I heard nothing but the vague laughter from the Death Eaters, I looked up.

"Oh dear Lord," I whispered and stood up shakily whilst leaning on my hands. The entire camp had been burned to the ground, only a few tents barely managed to survive. There were a lot of fires yet to be quenched, and as I walked through the wreckage, I realized the place was abandoned. Not a single soul could be heard.

I breathed harshly, holding my bruised ribs with my arm, the other pulling out my wand from inside my boot. I kept walking, keeping an eye over my shoulder.

A few moments later I noticed I was completely lost. I didn't recognize any of the tents around me, and I certainly couldn't recognize which ones were ours as they all were the same color. Groaning, I moved on as if I knew where I was going, trying to not panic.

It wasn't working.

I cursed myself for not thinking of my wristwatch, which had been left back on the tent inside my backpack. I could've helped me now.

Then, I heard something - footsteps. I stilled, taking a few steps back and slowly moved behind one tent, which had miraculously survived through the whole ordeal.

To my surprise, it was a man singing very off-key, swaying, and for a moment I thought he was drunk. But then he stopped, his back facing me and tilted his head.

I took a step back - crack!

I gasped and looked down, stepping away from the broken branch. I raised my head and was met with a pair of piercing brown, hateful eyes.

"I found you," he said quietly. I immediately turned and fled.

Running whilst being hurt wasn't one of my brightest plans. It was either getting more hurt and bruised or getting killed by this loony with a leather fetish. Yes, even though I'm about to be killed, I did notice the leather coat and leather trousers he wore.

My foot connected with a wooden box and I fell. I quickly straightened and raised to my feet.

An arm sneaked around my waist and a hand covered my mouth. I began to squirm on my captor's hold, scratching at the arm and I tried to step on his foot. He was smarter than that and shifted, managing to avoid each stomp with swift movements. He shook my body roughly, catching me off guard.

"Stop moving!" he growled. I stopped dead, and let him drag me away. His voice sounded quite young to be the man I had seen and when we were kneeling behind a tent, looking over at the large empty space I had fallen, I took a good look on him, and was stunned to see he was my age.

Tall as Ron, the bloke could easily be confused with a twenty-year old man - who looked young. His hair was completely black, cut behind the ears but messily stood up at the ends, reminding me of a porcupine. His face was round and boyish, and he had a button nose.

The man from before ran into the clearing, turning into the spot with his wand pointing at everything. When he didn't see me, he let out a shout and ran to the opposite way from us.

We waited a few minutes before we both let out relieved sighs. He turned to look at me and I was caught off ward by his eyes. They were an astounding shiny silver.

"You alright?" he asked.

I nodded, shakily.

"Good," he said, nodding, and stood up. Without a word, he started to walk away.

"Hey!" I said and quickly caught up with him. "Where are you going?"

"With my classmates."

"You know where they are?"

"No."

"Do you know where you are going?"

"No."

I sighed, frustrated. "Do you even know where exactly we are now?"

He stopped short and turned to look around. "Ah, 'm not sure."

"Well, isn't that swell," I deadpanned.

He scoffed. "You could at least be a bit grateful, after all, I saved your life."

"I'm not some damsel in distress," I hissed. "I can perfectly take care of myself."

A flash of green light shot from the forest and up to the sky, exploding in the air and a colossal skull appeared, looking as if it was composed of emerald stars, with a serpent protruding out of its mouth.

The stranger gasped. "The Dark Mark." My eyes widened at his remark. Although I hadn't seen any pictures of it, I knew what the dark mark was meaning to represent.

"What was your name, again?"

I shot him a withering glare. "Its Anya! And I never told you!"

"Well, Anya," said the stranger nervously, ignoring my jest and backed a few steps. "I propose we do some vigorous running!"

There was a loud bang, and I too, backed along with him. "I reckon you're right," I gasped, and both of us turned away at the same time to run.

"So!" he panted. "What is a girl like you doing in the woods alone?"

"Is it really the right time to ask?!" I shouted, peering at him from the corner of my eye.

"I thought that it would be a little impolite not to ask!" he said, his arms moving from side to side.

"We're about to be attacked and probably murdered!"

He grinned, jogging ahead and turned to shot me a grin. "Isn't that exciting?!"

"No, it isn't! Are you barking mad or what?!"

"Probably!"

We eventually came to a stop and slowed down, panting. The boy doubled over in fatigue and leaned his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths. I was in no better state: wheezing, I held my arm around my stomach and winced, remembering that by now, bruises must have started to appear.

"Who are you?" I wheezed.

He got himself together and straightened. The boy offered me his hand with a silly smile.

"'M James."

Frowning, I hesitantly took it, squeezing it tightly. He didn't even wince.

"Right then James," I puffed out a cheek. "Are you always this suicidal?"

"Not on Mondays, no. Just a bit when its Sunday though: nothing ever happens on a sunny Sunday."

I shook my head and didn't bother to conceal my snort.

"Lets just forget I even asked," I said, waving my hand. He chuckled and carried on in silence. Oddly enough, I didn't feel uncomfortable with him

"The cloaked men," I started. "Were those Death Eaters?"

"Yes."

"Was it the man from before one of them?"

"The one with the leather fetish?" asked James. "Probably. He was in the camp, alone - it could have been him who conjured the Dark Mark. Or maybe he was only a nutty."

"You certainly don't beat around the bush," I said to myself, shaking my head. "I got separated from my friends, what 'bout you?"

He smiled. "Same. I came here with my school, but with all the ruckus going on, we all went in different ways. I was looking out for them but I saw you," he sighed and stretched out his arms, "and the rest, you already know!"

I eyed him. "You're weird."

"So I've been told. And you're kind of blunt. Scary and bossy too."

I chuckled. "This is actually the first time someone has told me anything more than scary."

My ears suddenly perked and I threw out my arm, stopping him.

"Someone is coming," I said quietly. Without a word, James took my hand and pulled me behind one of the trees. Curious, I held onto the trunk and craned up my neck to see around the tree. James did the same on the other side.

A thin shape walked over the wreckage without a care in the world. My hands tightened on the bark, the knuckles turning white. I gritted my teeth as Malfoy swaggered past us with a smirk on his face.

"Asshole," said James once the peroxide blond was out of sight.

"His father must have been involved in the riot," I muttered hotly.

"I wouldn't be surprised," said James, shooting his eyes upward. "Last time, dear old Lucius Malfoy didn't end up in Azkaban by claiming he was under the Imperius Curse."

Soon enough, we reached the edge of the woods and saw a large crowd of wizards looking ill-frightened, whispering among each other. Thankfully they ignored us and we walked back into the campsite. Mr. Weasley's borrowed tents had miraculously survived through the fire unlike the ones around it, some of them still smoking.

"I think this is where I leave you," said James.

"Yeah," I nodded. "It was nice to meet you, James."

"No, it wasn't," he said, smirking.

I shook my head. "No, it really wasn't. Hope to meet you when you're less..." I wiggled my finger at his head.

"Barmy?" he offered. At my nod, he chuckled. "I doubt it. See ya, then."

He looked at my face and I shivered, the intensity of his silver eyes making goosebumps appear on my skin. James lingered there for a moment but turned around abruptly, disappearing through the mess of tents.

Biting my cheek, I stared after him. His odd and yet, helpful appearance, was fishy. Not to mention he was bordering on psychopath. But James didn't ring any bells of danger inside my head, not at all. It seemed only my paranoia was getting the best out of me again.

I shook my head and turned to head into the tent. Poking my head inside, I said to the expectant audience full of Weasleys, "Did I miss something?"

I was harassed with questions, and as I spoke of my tale, I didn't tell them about the man in leather nor about the strange boy that had rescued me from him.

R&R please!