Ireland—170

Bulgaria—160

The Twins were ecstatic, Ron was not.

Laughing and talking about the outcome of the match, Talia and Isabella made their way out of the stadium, following behind the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. There was a lot of green going around since the Ireland Quidditch team had won, and the Bulgarian fans were wearing glares and keeping to themselves. It was an interesting game, to say the least. Isabella had no idea of what had been going on half of the time, only knowing when a team was in the lead whenever their fans screamed the loudest, but because it was the Quidditch World Cup, it was an experience that Isabella would not forget.

Thank goodness she hadn't placed any bets. The Twins were going around collecting their dues, and Ron begrudgingly gave them all of his allowance. He'd been so sure that the Bulgarians would win, and was now feeling himself a fool. So much for Viktor Krum…

As the group walked back to the tent, Talia was telling her mother how Hermione and Arthur had to keep Harry in his seat when the Veelas walked onto the pitch before the match had officially begun, dancing and attracting the attention of every male present with their charm and magically enhanced beauty. It made Isabella laugh, and she remembered the time when an Italian transfer student had gone to Hogwarts for about a year—the girl had Veela blood running through her veins. She'd gotten the attention of every male student she'd bat an eyelash at… even Remus, and a reluctant Severus. Oh, Isabella had been so mad whenever Remus would stop and stare at the other woman, but he always made up for it by giving Isabella kisses and telling her how much he loved her.

The funny thing about the whole ordeal had been, out of all the male students, Sirius—Sirius Black of all people (Hogwarts biggest flirt), hadn't even spared the Veela a glance. Oh, the irony had been laid down thick that year.

"I want you in bed after you take a good long shower and get some food in you, understood?" Isabella told her daughter as they entered the tent.

"What kind of food will I be given?" asked Talia skeptically, looking up at her mother.

Isabella rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten how picky her daughter was when it came to food.

"Well, that depends on what I find in the kitchen, or what I can buy from the vendors outside."

"If you end up buying food, there's this American stand that's selling chili cheese burgers and something they call curly fries. Can you get me some of those? With extra cheese?"

Isabella chuckled and ruffled her daughter's hair, nodding her head and shooing her off towards the small bathroom that was in the corner of the tent.

Isabella was about to turn and head for the kitchen when Hermione walked up to her, an uneasy expression on her face. Isabella offered her a smile as Hermione began to fidget with the sleeve of her jumper.

"Um, I was wondering, if it wasn't too much to ask for, "said Hermione slowly, "could you possibly make me something to eat too? I'm not overtly fond of what the vendors are selling…. And uh, I don't really trust Mr. Weasley's cooking."

"Oh, of course love," Isabella chuckled, but then she noticed that the uneasy expression was still on Hermione's face. Softly she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"It's all new to me," Hermione said quietly, "the wizarding world, that is. I know it's also new for Harry but he's got this reputation that… cushions it for him, I guess. He's adapted so well but I… sometimes I can't. My parents… I love them dearly, but I've tried to talk to them about it and they just don't understand—they look at me funny sometimes whenever I talk about magic and spells and things like that. It makes me feel different. I'm living in the muggle world and the wizarding world and I don't know where I'm going to end up. I don't know what I'm going to do, or who I'm going to be…"

Isabella stared down at Hermione for a moment, before placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her over to sit on a couch. Kneeling before the girl, Isabella said softly, "You're not the only one who feels… different. I'm going to use this as an example and I hope you tell no one, but Remus… he struggles with what he is. He thinks himself a monster, and he hides it well, but I know that he's not always alright. He grew up in this world and yet he feels as if he doesn't belong. But you know what I tell him?"

"What?" asked Hermione softly.

Isabella grinned, before saying, "I say, Remus, you can't change your past, but you can change your future."

"I… I can understand how that can work, for him that is, but—"

"Sweetheart," Isabella cooed, patting Hermione's knee. "You've got the best of both worlds. You can't change the fact that you're the first witch in your family, but you can decided on what you make of yourself. Go wherever you wish to go, be whatever you wish to be. If you want to be a muggle teacher, then be a muggle teacher. Just because you're a witch, that doesn't mean that you can't explore."

Hermione was silent for a moment, before sniffling and giving Isabella a small smile. "Thank you. I'm… sorry for unloading all of this one you. It's just… I couldn't really find anyone to share this with, and I just needed to get it all out."

"No problem, dear," Isabella smiled gently, reaching up a hand and brushing away a tear that had managed to slip past Hermione's eye. "Whenever you wish to talk about things your mum and dad might not understand, don't hesitate to send me an owl. I consider you my daughter, sweetheart. Merlin knows Talia would kill me if I didn't."

Hermione laughed, and nodded.

"Now," Isabella said, standing up, "I want you to get a shower once Talia gets out of the bathroom. I'll have something cooked up by then, but I can't guarantee that it'll be homemade. I have no idea what the kitchen has, but I hope it's enough to improvise."

"Thank you, again," Hermione told Isabella as she stood up off the couch.

"I'm always here if you need me," Isabella smiled.

Hermione nodded and turned to walk into the girl's bedroom, but she stopped and turned back to Isabella. Softly she said, "You're good for him—Professor Lupin, I mean. I can really see how much you care for him."

Isabella said nothing, simply pressed her index finger to her lips, and Hermione nodded, understanding Isabella's silent message.

After dinner, the boys (and Ginny) had stayed sitting at the kitchen table, discussing Quidditch. However, poor Ginny had fallen asleep about an hour into the conversation, and Arthur decided to call it a night, ordering his boys, and Harry, to go off to their respective rooms and to keep the noise level down. They were all still very excited about the match, (even Percy, who didn't really look the sort to be into sports) and wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon.

Gingerly, Arthur scooped Ginny into his arms and carried her off towards the largest bedroom in the tent—the master bedroom, which Isabella had claimed for the girls. There were three single beds in the room, the biggest bed (it being a king-size bed) being Isabella and Talia's to share for the night.

"You girls decent?" called Arthur from the other side of the closed door.

Isabella chuckled. "Come on in, Arthur."

Arthur stepped into the room and quickly studied the scene that greeted him. Isabella, Talia, and Hermione were sitting on the largest bed, with Hermione sitting in front of Isabella, getting her hair braided.

They were all wearing fluffy bathrobes over their pajamas.

"Now, the easiest way to tame this mane of yours is to brush it down at least twice a day and add in a small dollop of hot oil," Isabella was telling Hermione. "The oil will make your hair smooth and shinny, and a bit more manageable. But you can't go using just any oil—there's a special type of oil that you can get at any muggle beauty supply store, and it doesn't cost much. I remember me and Talia walked into one once when we went exploring Muggle London—some of the things those muggles sell is really brilliant."

"I never knew that," Hermione mused. "I'll have to tell my mum about it. There's a beauty salon a couple of blocks away from our house—"

"Did you hear that?" Talia asked to no one in general, a teasing lit to her voice, "Hermione, not knowing something? Someone call the Daily Prophet!"

Isabella rolled her eyes and looked away from Hermione's hair to see Arthur set Ginny down on one of the beds.

"She needs some sisters, Arthur."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "Molly's got her little girl now, so no more babies for the future. If Ginny had been a boy though… I think Molly would have gone on until we'd gotten a girl."

Isabella just chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't know how you do it. Some days Talia is too much to handle, I can't even begin to imagine what you and Molly—"

Yelling interrupted Isabella, and the yelling was followed by the sound of a crash. The festivities that had been going on outside of the tent began to change; the music stopped, cheering fans were replaced with screaming witches and wizards, and after a loud explosion, all hell seemed to break loose.

"Stay here," Arthur said quickly, taking out his wand from his pocket and leaving the room.

"What's going on?" Talia asked, looking at her mother with a slight tinge of fear in her eyes.

"I don't know, but you girls better get dressed, and wake Ginny."

Talia and Hermione quickly got dressed, shaking Ginny awake and telling her to gather her things. All the while Isabella quickly changed into the outfit she'd been wearing at the Burrow. If the situation called for a fight, she did not want to have billowing robes holding her back, so after putting on her jeans and white shirt, she stepped into her boots and laced them up with a flick of her wrist.

"Stay here until I come to get you," Isabella told the girls while she tied her hair up into a bun.

"Be careful," said Talia.

"Do you have your wand?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"What's going on?" asked a sleepy Ginny.

"I've got my wand—and I don't know what's going on, but nothing will happen to you," Isabella told Ginny, and then looked at Hermione and Talia, continuing with, "you're all safe. Just stay here and have your wands out, just in case."

The girls all nodded, and after grabbing her bag, Isabella walked out into the living room.

Arthur was pacing, running a hand worriedly through his red hair. He wore a pained expression on his face, and he was pale as if he'd seen something terrible.

"Arthur," called Isabella as she strapped her bag across her chest, "what's going on?"

"We're under attack," he said, apprehensive. "There are men walking outside, wearing black robes and hoods, destroying everything—they're shouting for muggle-borns, I think."

"Death Eaters," asked Isabella softly, her face pale.

Arthur nodded.

Severus, was the first thing Isabella could think of. Was he one of those hooded figures outside the tent? Surely he would have mentioned an attack at the World Cup, or maybe even hinted at something happening, unless…. Unless he didn't know. If he knew that something was happening he would have prevented Talia and she from joining the Weasleys.

Isabella was ignoring him, that much was true, but she had told him before leaving Spinner's End that she and Talia would be going to the Quidditch World Cup, so that he'd know where they were.

Could Lucius be part of this? No, Isabella thought, dismissing the thought quickly, Lucius would never put Narcissa and Draco in this kind of danger. That man would die if anything happened to his family.

"The children," Isabella said softly, "we must get them out."

Arthur nodded, saying, "Harry is in danger more than anyone of us right now. It's him who they're really after."

"What do we do?"

"We head for the forest," said Arthur. "We'd be safest there. Get the girls while I get the others."

Isabella nodded, and then rushed back to the bedroom to gather her girls.

"We stay together, you hear me," Isabella told the three girls, leading them out into the living room.

Harry and Ron now stood with Arthur, and the Twins had their wands out, looking at the entrance to the tent with worried eyes. They were waiting for someone, and Isabella got her answer when Bill stumbled in, out of breath, with Percy and Charlie behind him.

"They're after half-breeds," Bill said, trying to catch his breath. "Anyone who isn't a pure-blood…"

"They've even brought in muggles from outside," said Percy, running a hand through his hair.

"They don't know about us, do they?" asked Talia as she grabbed onto Hermione's hand, "We're safe, right?"

Isabella didn't answer her. She simply placed a hand on Talia's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Whatever happens," Isabella said quietly, looking at all the children gathered around her, "don't let your guard down. Shoot to kill, because a Death Eater will not hesitate to kill you, and neither should you—"

A loud boom came from above the tent, followed by even louder screams. The tent walls shook violently, and with an urgent nod, Arthur and Isabella rushed out of the tent.

Arthur and Bill led the group, while all the children walked behind them in a row, and bringing up the rear was Isabella.

Percy had gone off to help Ministry officials in controlling the riot, much to his father's distaste. However, Charlie went along with him, knowing that his father would feel better if his brother didn't go off alone. Although, before running off to catch up with his brother, Charlie had grabbed Isabella's hand, an apologetic look on his face that Isabella understood. With a nod from her, Charlie went off to aid his brother, and Isabella was left with following after the children, guarding them from behind.

This is not good, Isabella thought, taking her wand out of her bag. There were children screaming, house-elves frantically trying to aiding their masters, and witches and wizards running and throwing curses. The night sky had a reddish hue from all the fires that were started, and muggles were being tortured in front of everyone, suspended in the air by dark magic, their bodies contorting in pain.

It was Hell on earth.

Quickly the group weaved in and out of the crowd, wands at the ready in case anyone decided to stop them. They were doing well for a group of their large size, with only a few stops to avoid being hit with rouge spells, and slowly but surely, they were nearing the campsite's edge.

Nevertheless, someone was bound to be left behind, and that person was Isabella.

As she pushed past people, keeping her eyes firmly on the back of her daughter's head, she never noticed the flash of light that flew right at her from behind. It hit her back with enough force to knock her down, and a silent scream tore through her throat as a multitude of gashes ripped the skin of her back apart. Fire and spears, that's what it felt like; the fire licked at the wounds made by invisible spears, and paralyzed her for just a moment, but a moment was all it took to lose sight of Talia and the others.

I am not going to die, Isabella thought weakly as she gripped her wand tightly, I'm not going to die…

They had all been separated.

The crowd was just too much, and they had been ripped apart. However, they had been told that the forest was safe, that if they were separated that they would all meet up where the portkey had left them, and so Talia was running, panting heavily as she weaved in and out of trees in the cover of night.

However, fear was distracting her, and so she never saw the uprooted tree root until it was much too late. She tripped over it, landing on the dirt floor hard. Groaning, she propped herself up and searched for her wand, and she found it right by her hand, but it lay broken in pieces.

"Oh no," Talia whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she quickly to her knees, hovering over the broken pieces of her wand. "No no…"

A loud, nearby explosion made her forget about her wand, and she quickly got up on her feet and ran. She did not know where she was running to anymore, but she could hear screams and curses cutting through the air, and it was enough to make her go anywhere as long as she wasn't caught.

Talia wanted to go home.

I want my mum, she thought as tears ran down her cheeks, I want my—

"Petrificus totalus!"

Talia felt her whole body freeze. Her arms quickly came down at her sides, stiff as boards, and her legs locked together, sending her down to the ground face first. She could not move her arms, or her legs, or even blink, or scream. Footsteps came from her left, and then a very familiar voice cursed.

"Finite."

Talia suddenly felt her body respond to her, and she took in a deep breath. Warm hands grabbed at her shoulders, hoisting her up so that she was standing on wobbly knees. Draco Malfoy stood before her, and Talia couldn't help but to rush into him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding onto him for dear life.

"Talia," said Draco softly, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I thought you were one of them… What are you doing here? Where's your mum?"

"I don't—"Talia was interrupted by the sound of a loud, thunderous explosion in the sky. The forest was quickly illuminated by a bright green light thereafter, and as Talia and Draco looked up into the opening in the canopy, they saw clouds swirl together; forming what looked like a skull with a snake slithering out of its grinning mouth.

It was Voldemort's mark—the Dark Mark.

"We need to go," Draco said in a rush, pulling Talia in a specific direction. "My mother isn't far off. She can take us home."

"But my mum," cried Talia, pulling on Draco's sleeve, "I don't know where she is! She could be hurt!"

"I'm sure she'll be fine, but we can't stay here," Draco urged. "We need to go!"

"But—"

"I can't lose you!" Draco yelled, his face looking haunted for just a moment. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but before Talia could open her mouth, he was dragging her along behind him. "Come on—this way!"

Sitting on her front porch with her son, Adele looked up at the night sky, her sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears. It was early in the morning, around four or five in the morning to be precise, but neither she nor her son could go back to sleep after reading that disastrous letter that a certain Molly Weasley had sent them.

She could feel the fear and trepidation leave her son in waves, and it worried her to see him so pale and tense.

"I think I'm going to head inside, dear," she told her son softly as she rose from the porch swing they shared. "Are you going to—"

The crackling of air made Adele abruptly stop talking. Her son quickly stood up, and both she and he took their wands out of their pockets and looked out into the front yard of the secluded cottage they lived in.

There was a figure there that had not been there moments earlier, swaying dangerously from side to side. The figure took a step forward, but then collapsed with a pained gasp.

Adele took her son's hand, and both cautiously began to make their way towards the figure in their yard. As they drew near, they saw that the body belonged to a woman with long, black hair. She was unconscious.

"Oh my," Adele whispered, letting go of her son's hand and dropping to her knees. "She's hurt. Son, I need you to…"but her son wasn't listening. He stood frozen behind her, his hand gripping his wand tightly.

The woman on the ground smelled heavily of blood… and lavender.

Fun fact: The talk between Hermione and Isabella nearly didn't make the final cut.