"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."
Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.
"Gosh that was the biggest rush of excitement ever!" Skylar beamed.
"I'm surprised you can still talk given all the screaming you did." Nick chuckled.
"I have many talents." She shrugged.
They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, Skylar, Ginny and Hermione went into the Weasleys second tent where the girls were sleeping. Skylar insisted on sleeping there too despite her family's tent having more than enough room, to no one's surprise.
None of them felt like sleeping, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in, being joined in the Weasleys tent by the Rosenwalds. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Everyone split, before they all changed into pyjamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.
The match played through many of their minds as one by one why all drifted off to sleep. Skylar was dreaming of the game which morphed with leprechauns and rainbows before she was suddenly being shaken awake.
"Skylar! Skylar, you need to wake up."
"Come on Ginny!"
It was her parents' voices. In the next moment, Mr. Weasley came running into the tent.
"Quickly!"
"Grab your coats!" Dominique ordered.
Skylar instantly knew everything was wrong, for one, the urgency in her parents' voices, and another, the sounds outside the campsite had drastically changed. The singing had stopped and been replaced with screams, and the sound of people running.
The girls did as they were told, pulling on their coats over their pyjamas and hurried out of the tents. The boys were all already there.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, people could be seen running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.
A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Each of them wore hoods and their faces were masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.
More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice the marchers blasted a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.
The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and revealed one of them to be Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.
"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick…"
Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.
"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves.
"Stay together." Dominique said.
"No! Wait, mum!" Skylar called worried. Nick grabbed her arm as she stepped towards her parents, also rolling up their sleeves.
"You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. We'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"
Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Dominique gave her children a strong confident look as Nathaniel was off as well, before Mr. Weasley and Dominique tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.
"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry helped Nick to grab Skylar and they, Ron, Hermione, Leon and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.
The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. Then they heard Ron yell with pain.
"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. Skylar was pulled in two directions as Harry stopped and Nick continued on. His hand slipped from her arm as she stopped with Harry. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid — lumos!"
She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.
"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.
"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.
Harry, Ron, Skylar and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.
Ron told Draco to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley
"Language, Weasley," said Draco, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"
He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly.
"Granger, they're after Muggles," said Draco. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around… they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."
"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.
"Have it your own way, Potter," said Draco, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."
"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.
"Never mind, Ron," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Draco.
"Seriously Draco?" Skylar frowned. "Are you actually enjoying this?" She asked, pointing to the scene.
Draco didn't respond, but turned back to watch it.
There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Draco chuckled softly.
"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?"
"Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"
Draco turned his face to Harry, still smiling.
"Well… if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"
"You do realise your thoughts can get your parents arrested right?" Skylar said. Draco glared at her and turned away, trying to stop her entering his mind.
"Oh come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Draco, "let's go and find the others."
"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Draco.
"Come on," Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron up the path again.
"Have fun here, by yourself." Skylar said as they left him.
"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly.
"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently.
"You know, something different about Draco." Skylar confessed. "Can't put my finger on what it is."
"He's even more obnoxious?" Harry grumbled.
"Git more like." Ron said.
None of those were right, but Skylar didn't say anything else.
Hermione was too busy looking through the trees. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"
Fred, George, Ginny, Nick and Leon were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue —"
"Er — what?" said Ron.
"Votre directrice n'est-ce pas? Désolé, nous ne l'avons pas vue." Skylar said, much to the surprise of the three around her.
"Oh…" The girl who had spoken turned her back on them, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, " 'Ogwarts."
"Beauxbatons," muttered Hermione.
"You speak french?" Ron asked.
"Mum made me take it." Skylar shrugged.
"Sorry?" said Harry to Hermione.
"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Hermione. "You know… Beauxbatons Academy of Magic… I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."
"Oh… yeah… right," said Harry.
"It's a prestigious school in France, they have a high belief on manners making better wizards. All about etiquette." Skylar said.
"What did they want?"
"They lost their headmistress, Madame Maxime."
"You know her?"
"I know of her." Skylar shrugged. "There was a point mum considered the other European schools for me, Nick and Leon. Even though we were set on Hogwarts."
Ron and Hermione weren't as interested in the idea of other schools as Harry was and so were looking around at all the huddled groups of people for their family and friends.
"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path. Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand — but it wasn't there. The only thing he could find was his Omnioculars.
"Ah, no, I don't believe it… I've lost my wand!"
"You're kidding!"
Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground while Skylar pulled hers out to light it, joining them; Harry looked all around him, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe it's back in the tent," said Ron.
"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.
"Yeah," said Harry, "maybe…"
A rustling noise nearby made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.
"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and laboured to keep running. "People high — high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"
And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.
"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"
"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby: Every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn't like, the house-elf had been forced to start beating himself up.
"If that was the case, she'd be hitting herself, not running strangely." Skylar mumbled, her forehead furrowed.
"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"
"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match… 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'… that's what she likes, being bossed around…"
"And it's not slavery, it's not the same for House-elves as it is for humans, Hermione. It's wired into their DNA to make people happy." Skylar said.
"It's people like you two," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to —"
Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.
"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, and Harry saw him glance edgily at Hermione. Perhaps there was truth in what Draco had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than they were. They set off again, Harry still searching his pockets, even though he knew his wand wasn't there.