Chapter Six
"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 like he might ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know. Nessa smirked down at the ground — she didn't quite blame him personally. They'd use it for their shop, she was sure, but what precisely they'd use it for, she didn't plan on asking either.
The two of them were practically skipping in delight, and not all of their excitement was because they'd won the match. Tori and Ginny had looped their arms with Nessa and were skipping down the lantern-lit path, all three of them singing loudly with the thousands of others filling the wood. Leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, no one felt like sleeping at all, 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. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match — sans Hermione and Nessa, who had taken to discussing other things as the more Quidditch savvy of the group debated around them. Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep at the tiny table that Mr. Weasley insisted that everyone go to bed.
Hermione, Ginny, Nessa, and Tori went to the next tent. They changed into their pajamas and clambered into their bunks. Ginny was out before her head even hit the pillow and Hermione followed soon after. Nessa, however, found it rather difficult to fall asleep. The entire day had felt like a dream, and the giddiness was hard to ignore as flashes of it appeared behind her eyes. She loved being in the Wizarding world so much after a summer with her relatives. Not even their brief run in with the Malfoys could disturb the happy bubble in her chest.
"Nessa," Tori whispered from the bunk above her, clearly unable to sleep herself.
There was still a great deal of noise from the other side of the campsite, raucous singing still ringing in the night and the odd echoing bang.
"Yeah?" Nessa whispered back.
Tori didn't respond at the sound of her whisper, and the shadow of her legs hanging down beside her was Nessa's only warning before she moved into the bed next to her. Nessa scooted back so that her back rested against the wall behind her as Tori grinned at her in the dark.
"So?"
"It feels like a dream," Nessa responded quietly, grinning.
Tori sighed dreamily, as if she couldn't quite believe they'd really watched the match and she could still picture it all clearly in her head.
"I've got to learn to play like that. I mean, did you see Mullet," she said, her hands reaching up and moving in a way that was clearly meant to mimic the movements of the famous Chaser. "I'd sell my soul to play like that."
Nessa snorted and the two of them froze immediately when the sound made Ginny shift on the bed across from them. When they were certain she wasn't going to wake, they looked back at each other and grinned again.
"Krum was interesting to watch," Nessa said. "Though I don't know why he caught the Snitch so early."
"He knew they'd never catch up," Tori said dismissively. "The Irish Chasers were too good. He's an excellent player. Bit of an ugly bloke though, isn't he?"
Nessa snickered into her pillow.
"I don't think you're supposed to say things like that out loud, you know."
"Why?" Tori said indignantly. "You're the only one that can hear me anyway. Probably a good thing they lost — Imagine what the boys would have done if the veela started a victory dance."
Nessa giggled, the sight of her brother looking ready to jump off the box flashing before her eyes.
"They do remind me a bit of sirens," she said. "Except they dance instead of sing. It's got to be some form of magic they have that is so distracting to men, isn't it?"
Tori made an annoyed noise.
"Not just men," she corrected. "They affect anyone who is attracted to women. It's irritating the way men ogle them."
Nessa smirked in the darkness.
"Men or Fred?"
Tori went so still next to her that Nessa rolled her eyes. Honestly, the fact that Tori thought she was being secretive about the whole thing should have been embarrassing. Even if Fred hadn't told her what had happened between them last year, she'd still have guessed something in their dynamic had changed. They were very obvious about the entire thing.
"Why should I care who Fred is leering at?"
Nessa laughed so hard at her disgusted tone that she had to bury her entire face in her pillow until she could get herself back under control.
"I'd hardly call it leering," Nessa gasped once she'd calmed down. "And, please don't pretend like I'm stupid, Victoria. It's very obvious something's different between you."
Tori was eyeing Ginny in paranoia, as if she suspected Ginny might have orchestrated being asleep in order to listen in on them.
"Did Fred tell you something?" she said eventually.
"No," Nessa lied. She'd never lied to Tori before, and doing so now made her entirely uncomfortable, but she didn't want to betray Fred's confidence either and Tori had a tendency of overreacting. "The two of you just — I mean, it seems a bit obvious. You've always been different with each other. To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't notice it earlier."
Tori huffed.
"Yeah, well, I never really gave it much thought before he went and snogged me last year," she said as if the entire thing was irksome to her. "I mean, what did he have to go and do that for, Nessa? Now I can't —"
Tori stopped talking abruptly as if realizing she'd said too much.
"Can't what?" Nessa said curiously. Tori remained silent, so Nessa pressed again, "What is it? Do you think he's ugly or something?"
"What? No, of course not!" she whispered immediately. "That's not — that's really not the issue, you know." And then she muttered to herself, "The snogging certainly made that very clear."
"What's that mean?" Nessa said, the smirk evident in the tone of her voice. Tori winced upon realizing she'd heard her. "Was it good?"
"It was…different."
"What the hell does that mean?" Nessa snorted.
Tori sighed heavily.
"It means that he's a great stupid prat is what it means," Tori said, the frustration evident in her voice. "I snog a lot of blokes, okay. I've shagged a fair few too —"
"Yes, I know," Nessa said, waving a hand dismissively. She knew very well of Tori's escapades, despite the fact that Nessa had not a one to speak of herself. Tori was not shy in general, but she wasn't shy about sharing with her either, and Nessa had far more interesting things to talk with her about the moment. "Get on with it."
"Well, it's just — I don't know how to say it," Tori said, growling in irritation. "You know, they all have this — this expectation that they're in control or dominant or whatever you want to call it. I've always sort of had to pretend to be more passive than I really am, pretend to be a little less of who I am with most blokes. They all say they like strong, independent women until they have one, you know? Then we're just obnoxious and rude and demanding and cold. But Fred, he — well, I was so surprised he was kissing me that I didn't put much thought into the whole thing and he didn't seem to care all that much is what I'm trying to say."
Nessa found this a bit surprising, truthfully.
"Fred seems like the dominant type, to be honest," she said before she could stop herself.
Tori snorted.
"He is," she said. "The fact that I know that is very irritating. But I'm saying that he wasn't all hot and bothered that I am too. It's very hard to explain, you know."
Nessa snorted, but she got the gist. The two of them had always been fighting for dominance in the majority of things they did — Quidditch, arguments, witty comebacks. She didn't suppose that their relationship would change that aspect just because they added kissing to the mix. Although, Nessa severely hoped it would cut down on their nonsense bickering. For George's sake, at minimum.
"Okaaaay," she said slowly. "And the fact that he's okay with you being yourself is….a bad thing."
Tori huffed again.
"Yes," she said. "No. It's complicated."
Nessa rolled her eyes.
"So un-complicate it."
"I don't think that's a word," Tori said, clearly trying to derail the conversation. Nessa said her name in warning and Tori sighed. "I don't know if it's a bad thing. Sometimes I think it's a good thing, you know — he's not afraid of me when I go off and lose my head. He doesn't look at me like I'm crazy like most men do when I get pissed off, but he doesn't go running off in the opposite direction either. Which, now that I'm thinking about it, is very annoying." — Nessa snorted, but waited for Tori to explain more — "And he's not really the kind of bloke who's all disgustingly sweet and overly affectionate and gross — you know, like George —"
"Tori," Nessa warned and Tori snickered.
"Whatever floats your boat, okay?" she said with a shrug. "And he doesn't get jealous very easily which is a good thing because I like flirting. In a harmless sort of way, of course, but you know what I mean."
"Okay and the other part of you?"
"The other part of me says that this could quite possibly be the worst thing that's ever happened to me." Tori said starkly. "Fred and I, we — we've always been a bit volatile. When things are good, they're really good, but when they're bad, we could burn the world down. And he's — I just don't want to risk losing him in the fallout if it doesn't work. Because, truthfully, I don't think either one of us is the type to forgive and forget. Or at least, I'm not."
Nessa nodded into the darkness above her. She'd considered it herself, the dangerous precipice that Tori and Fred would be standing on if they took their relationship a step further. Everything about the two of them was like watching a match come dangerously close to gasoline and praying that it wouldn't ignite. Adding romance into the mix might very well be the spark that set the whole thing alight. And considering her relationship with his family, Tori stood to lose a lot more than just Fred in the fallout.
Personally, though, Nessa felt Tori didn't give her relationship with Fred much credit; they were fiery and passionate and a bit overreactive, sure, but the two of them were somehow different enough that it offset much of that volatility.
Fred did not have the patience to be with anyone who wasn't as independent as Tori. The thought of him coddling anyone was laughable and Tori was relatively low maintenance the majority of the time — she liked attention, but didn't like being smothered. Fred often put his foot in his mouth, so caught up in having a good time that he didn't always cushion the blow of his words or actions, and he always thought he was right. Tori was never above challenging him, and, while she was easy to anger, she didn't seem to take most of the stupid things that escaped Fred's mouth as anything other than him being impulsive. He was spontaneous in a way that wouldn't bore Tori to tears, and confident enough that he wasn't easily offended by Tori's own callousness.
And, unbeknownst to Tori, the man was about one step away from making himself look like a fool to make her happy. Somewhere between selling his soul and wrestling a hippogriff to prove himself — unnecessary levels of stupidly in love with her.
"So, what," Nessa said eventually, "You're just going to go back to snogging half the school and pretend like nothing happened?"
"I might, except I already tried that last year," Tori griped. "I was so irritated with Fred for being so — so — him that I tried snogging Peterson to distract myself from the whole bloody thing. And you know what happened? It was boring by comparison. I might as well have snogged a pillow for all the good it did me."
Nessa covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Snog Fred again then."
"This feels like we're going in circles." Tori grumbled. "I can't just snog Fred again. It's — he — well, the whole thing is complicated now. And it's not like I have any idea what I'm doing. I've been very careful not to land myself in this position with a man before, if you hadn't noticed. The whole thing makes me want to run screaming for the hills. And, Merlin, what would we tell Molly and Arthur? Arthur might not be all that upset about it, I guess — after a while, I mean — but Molly would have a conniption. And the whole school would be whispering about the whole bloody thing like it's a drama. And, really, I mean this wouldn't be at all like going on a first date with some cute bloke from Hufflepuff. This would be — it would be like going on a tenth date. We'd be in a very commitment-y place from the jump — one step away from getting asked when we're getting married and having babies — and, oh Merlin, Nessa, what in hell would I even say to that? No, no, no. I will absolutely take a dive right off my broomstick —"
"You're panicking," Nessa said calmly as if Tori weren't hyperventilating right next to her. Tori nodded quickly and took a deep breath.
"Right, no, I'm panicking," she said, more to herself than to Nessa. She managed to head off the panic attack quickly and released a long breath.
"Tori, why don't you just talk to Fred about it?" she said gently. "You're very clearly thinking one hundred steps ahead and I don't think that's really something you have to worry about. Or anything Fred is really interested in at the moment either. And you're ridiculous if you think anyone is going to ask you when you're getting married any time soon. Mrs. Weasley might ask you if you've both hit your head, mind —-"
"Yes, much better," Tori said sarcastically.
" — Probably scream her head off too. But I think you're years off from being nagged about marriage. You're still in school, for God's sake."
"Yes, well, the commitment part of it isn't different regardless. You can't just go about snogging your best friend — the bloke you grew up with — and not be in it for the long haul. I've never been in anything for the long haul. The closest I've come to a real relationship is that time I kissed Blakely a few times and that ended horribly."
It had. Nessa had laughed herself hoarse when Tori had told her that Blakely had insisted he was in love with her and tried to serenade her on the Quidditch pitch after one of the Gryffindor practices. Tori had dodged into loos and broom cupboards and hidden alcoves all along the castle every time she saw him looking for her in the corridors. It was the closest to unhinged she'd ever seen her.
It had been the very last time Tori had ever spent more than one meeting with the same boy and it had taken her weeks of avoiding Blakely in order to get him to leave her alone.
"You can't just go about pretending to be someone you're not when you could be with someone who clearly accepts you for who you are."
"So he says, anyway," Tori muttered to herself. Nessa opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but Tori cut her off before she could. "Say I talk to Fred and it ends in more snogging. Then what?"
Nessa rolled her eyes.
"Wear smudge proof lipstick," she offered dryly.
"That is supremely unhelpful," Tori griped. "And I always wear smudge proof lipstick, asshole."
Nessa snickered, and she was so busy laughing — and Tori so busy glaring at her — that it took them several long moments to realize the silence outside. The singing had stopped, but it still sounded like there were people outside, muttering and whispering, the sound like buzzing bees making its way across the campground.
"I'm surprised the Irish have stopped celebrating so soon," Tori said truthfully.
Nessa was just opening her mouth to respond when the screaming started. She and Tori shot straight up immediately, staring at the canvas surrounding them, hardly daring to move or breathe. The sounds of stomping feet and shadows across the tent had Tori pushing herself to a stand, swearing harshly, digging through her bag for her wand. Nessa followed suit, removing hers from her wand case.
"What the hell is happening?" Tori whispered harshly, watching the quickly moving shadows morph across the tent walls with a sort of building horror.
"Definitely not a celebration," Nessa said, moving to shake Ginny awake.
"G'way," Ginny grumbled, swiping at her and trying to turn over away from her.
"Ginny, wake up," Nessa whispered harshly, shaking her hard. "This isn't a joke! Get up!"
Tori used the bar of Hermione's bunk to hoist herself up enough to start shaking Hermione frantically. Hermione was quicker to rouse and was asking hurried questions and jumping down from her bunk, her wand already in her hand.
"Ginevra, wake up right now, or I swear to God, I will tell Harry all about those doodles you have in your Potions textbook!" Nessa snapped. "Mrs. Ginevra Potter —"
"Alright, I'm up, I'm up!" Ginny said hastily, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. "What's going on? Who's screaming?"
"How should we know?" Tori said, her anxiety clearly devolving into irritation. "Grab your wand."
She was digging through her backpack and threw a sweater at Nessa before pulling one on herself. They were clearly old Christmas sweaters of Fred's, a deep blue color with a large red F on the front. Nessa pulled it over her head and was not at all surprised when it fell to below her knees, covering up her sleep shorts completely, the sleeves hanging down to the tips of her fingers, and one of the shoulders falling down so that her tank top strap could be seen underneath. Tori was a great deal taller than her, so she looked a little less ridiculous, but the sweater still covered most of her own sleep shorts. Ginny and Hermione were rifling for jackets to throw over their nightgowns.
"Stay here, alright?" Tori said to the two of them. "Me and Nessa will go check with Arthur to see what's happening. And stay quiet."
Nessa looked at them one last time, both of their faces anxious, as they pressed together as far back from the entrance to the tent as possible. Before she and Tori had taken more than two steps forward, the tent flap was opening, and Mr. Weasley was rushing through, looking harried. He paused in surprise at the sight of Nessa and Tori standing in front of Hermione and Ginny, wands pointed directly at his chest.
Nessa breathed a sigh of relief and lowered her wand at the sight of him.
"Good, you're awake," he said, waving at them hurriedly to follow him outside. "Come on, now, quickly, quickly!"
"What's going on?" Tori said, rushing after him.
The boys were already gathering outside their own tents, all looking sleepy and disheveled. The noise was so much louder out here, and it was a struggle to even walk the few feet to the boys' tent with all of the people tramping through the campsite toward the woods. There were very few fires still burning, but she could see something that was moving across the field toward them, 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 before them.
"Who the hell is that?" Tori whispered, her voice shaking with horror and disgust.
A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. There was something horribly ominous about them, something that made Nessa's heart race as she stared at them so hard that she nearly tripped over Harry when they finally managed to fight their way through the crowd toward them. The wizards didn't seem to have faces — no, they did, but they weren't human looking at all. Their hoods were pulled over their heads and the masks they were wearing were silver, so brightly silver that they looked almost metallic and looked more like a skull from this distance. They were walking in some odd formation, stomping together as one, and clearly enjoying themselves and the screams of everyone around them.
"Those are children," Tori whispered brokenly, staring above the group of wizards above them. "Those are Muggle children!"
Hermione took a shuddering breath, biting her lip to keep from crying and Ginny looked away in disgust. Nessa couldn't stop watching it, something dark and ugly and horrible unfurling in her stomach at the sight of the four struggling figures floating in midair high above them. The wizards below were using their wands to contort them into grotesque shapes as though they were puppeteers and the people above them were human marionettes being pulled by invisible strings. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled as the marching crowd swelled. Some were blown away by marchers; some caught fire. The screaming grew louder and the crowd was running away from the march as if their very lives depended on it.
Their running enraged Nessa nearly as much as the men who were torturing the Roberts family above them — they outnumbered the marching wizards a hundred to one, but no one was doing anything to help. One of the wizards 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. Nessa cried out in alarm when another of them used his wand to make the smallest Muggle child spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side.
"Nessa, don't!" Tori said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back when she made to shoot forward.
"They could kill him, Victoria!" she said, her voice high-pitched and desperate. "His head…why is no one doing anything?"
She hated it. Hated everything about it. She knew — had known since she'd been introduced to this world — that there were wizards who had no respect or regard for Muggles, who thought them weaker and a waste of space. But hearing it and actually seeing it in front of her was an entirely different kind of evil. It made her want to cry and be sick and scream in rage all at once, imagining the absolute fear that the Muggles above them must be feeling, faced with something they didn't understand and watching their children be toyed with as though they were merely dolls.
"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted above the noise, rolling up his sleeves, looking determined. Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent behind him, rolling up their own sleeves, fully dressed and wands out. "You lot — get into the woods and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"
Nessa grabbed Charlie's arm as he went racing past, pointing up at the smallest child, who was looking horribly limp now.
"Help him first," she shouted over the din, ignoring the crowd that was coming ever closer. "Be careful with his head and make sure the mediwizards check his head and neck for injury immediately. They were shaking him too hard."
Charlie nodded resolutely and tore off in that direction, pushing his way through the crowd running in the opposite direction. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble, but Nessa didn't have time to watch to see if Charlie managed to do as she'd asked. Tori was tugging on her sleeve, forcing her toward the wood. The eight teenagers turned back once they reached the cover of 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 center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.
Nessa swore violently as she was pushed hither and thither by panicked people whose faces she could not see, tearing her eyes from the horror unfolding at the campsite. The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. The darkness surrounding them mixed with the anxious atmosphere, the clear sounds of panic around her, made her heart pound in her chest as it constricted and she tripped on something that felt like a tree root in her panic. She caught herself on a tree and shoved herself against it to avoid the fighting bodies around her.
"NESSA!"
Tori's panicked scream derailed her panic a little and she took a breath through her nose.
"Over here!" she yelled back.
There was a mad scuffle, Tori's vigorous swearing coupled with the swearing of people that she was surely pushing around in an attempt to reach her. She heard one of the men say something inappropriate in a leering yell and heard Ginny telling Fred to just ignore it. There was a scuffle that sounded again and Tori appeared before her first. Fred, George, and Ginny were behind her, George and Ginny dragging Fred behind them.
"Don't do that!" Tori scolded immediately, hitting Nessa on the arm. "You scared me half to death! It's hard to see you over all these people."
Nessa tried to laugh, but there was still so much noise happening around her and her heart was still racing.
"Did you take your potion this morning?" Tori asked, narrowing her eyes at her suspiciously.
"Forgot," Nessa gasped with a grimace. She waved the others away when they started swarming her, tutting like mother hens. "I'm fine, would you relax? I just need a minute. All these people are making it hard to breathe."
She was just getting herself under control when she looked around at the four of them in front of her completely.
Four of them.
"Where's my brother?" she demanded, straightening immediately.
They all whirled around and the twins swore profusely.
"Are you kidding me?" she said angrily. "How could you lose them?"
It wasn't their fault. Rationally speaking, she knew that. But she was about one hundred steps beyond rational at the moment, not made at all better by the sound of a blast like a bomb coming from the campsite behind them, momentarily illuminating the trees around them in green light. A memory flashed behind her eyes, threatening to send her spiraling into another panic, but she pushed it down, eyes scanning the wood for any sign of her brother.
This always happened to her. One moment of weakness and he slipped through her fingers, probably off doing something stupid or dangerous or —
"Look, we've got to get moving," Fred said, stopping her spiraling thoughts. He was looking at the campsite behind her with a growing unease. "We're too close still and I don't want them near Ginny —"
Ginny rolled her eyes and huffed at him.
"I'm not a baby, Fred," she said in irritation.
"Fred's right, Gin," George said firmly, giving her a hard look when she glared at him. "We need to keep moving. There's no telling what those lunatics will do next —"
"That's comforting, thank you," Nessa said sarcastically.
"We'll find him, love," he said, patiently. She winced at the gentleness in his tone because it was a clear indication that he was used to this sort of irritable anxiety from her, and she hated that too. "He's got a wand and Ron and Hermione are with him, yeah? Come on, they couldn't have gotten that far."
She loosed a heavy breath and nodded, biting her lip anxiously. She jumped this time when a bang came again from the campsite behind them, this one louder than anything they'd heard previous. Several people nearby screamed and Tori swore loudly, and they all took that as a sign to start walking again. They were careful to follow closely behind each other, as people were still shoving and running as fast as possible from the campsite.
Fred spotted a gap between some trees and pulled Ginny with him in that direction. The others followed silently. The wood broke into a small clearing, packed with people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. There was a group of teenagers arguing loudly in a language she didn't understand. A family was huddled in the center, whispering to each other fervently and debating whether they should risk Apparating their children out of the wood. There was no sign of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Let's just wait here until we get the all clear," Fred said decisively. Seeing Nessa's anxious expression, he amended, "Don't want to get too far and it'll be easy for Harry and the others to spot us."
Tori snorted and gave him a condescending look that he bristled at, but Ginny spoke before they could start arguing.
"Who do you think those wizards are?" she said anxiously. "And what's with the weird masks?"
Tori sighed heavily and took a seat on the ground, leaning back against a tree and crossing her legs. The others followed suit.
"Probably some pureblood supremacists looking for a good time," she said derisively. "Disgusting."
"Probably couldn't ignore the fun with all these people around to watch," George said, shaking his head angrily.
"Do you think they'll be alright?" Ginny asked. "The Muggles?"
The four older teenagers looked at each other silently for a long moment. There was another loud bang from behind them that made Nessa jump again.
"I'm sure they will be, Gin," she said finally. "They'll find a way to get them down somehow."
"And they won't remember a thing," Tori added.
Ginny nodded, looking back through the trees, even though she couldn't see anything. She seemed slightly mollified by these words, but Nessa found them disturbing somehow. Obliviating them wouldn't erase their body's reaction to the situation. That kind of adrenaline and anxiety couldn't be smoothed over with a memory charm, even if the memories no longer existed.
She couldn't decide which was worse — to remember the experience and know that there were people in the world who had the power to hurt you; or to forget the entire thing entirely and drive yourself mad trying to figure out why your brain and body are telling you to fight for your life.
No matter the choice, Muggles got the short end of the stick.
"Mad to do something like that with the entire Ministry here," Fred said. "Seems a bit stupid, if you ask me. There's no chance they get away with it."
"Maybe they're drunk or something," Tori said with a roll of her eyes. "Merlin knows it wouldn't be the first time a wizard got drunk and hexed a Muggle. To do that to children though — there's a special place in hell for them."
Nessa was opening her mouth to say something when something large, sparkling, and green shot across the sky and caught her attention.
"What is that?" Tori said, leaning forward to look at it through the gap in the trees.
Suddenly, it was no longer a green line shooting across the sky, but was taking shape high above them. It was a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald smoke, distorting as if it were a flag flowing in the wind. There was a serpent weaving in and out of its mouth like a tongue and it continued rising higher and higher in the sky as though it were a new constellation.
Nessa was on her feet with her wand held aloft before the screaming started.
"HARRY!" she screamed so desperately that her voice cracked.
The twins and Ginny jumped up immediately at her panic, looking around frantically.
"Nessa, what —"
"HARRY!"
But there was no chance he could hear her through everyone else's screaming.
"We're going back right now!" she said desperately.
"Are you mad, we can't —"
She whirled, her wand pointing directly at Fred's throat and he swore. Based on the way they all took a step back from her, she knew she must look deranged and out of control, but she couldn't bring herself to care through the panic closing in.
"We are going back." she snarled.
"Bloody hell, what is going on?" Fred snapped, looking imploringly at George.
"Love, tell us what's happening, and we can —"
"It's the Dark Mark, George!" she said, the panic swelling so much that the words ended on a sob. "Voldemort's sign — do you understand? We're going back until we find Harry."
They were looking up at the mark in the sky again, but their faces had paled now and they didn't seem to have the words now to argue.
"Alright, come on," Ginny said resolutely. "We stay together though, alright?"
The twins didn't look like they much liked the idea of bringing Ginny with them at all, but the alternative was leaving her or letting Nessa go alone, and neither of those choices seemed any more likely. Swearing, they nodded, but Fred was looking around in confusion before his gaze landed on Tori.
She hadn't moved, her body completely frozen with horror, her gaze locked on the skull above her, illuminating her face in an ominous sort of way. Her entire face had gone pale and she didn't look like she was breathing.
"Tori, are you alright?" George said, touching her shoulder in concern.
She jumped so hard that George swore again and jumped away from her.
"I — sorry, I — I'm fine," she said, shooting to her feet and keeping her gaze determinedly away from the sky above her. Her wand was shaking in her hand and she stumbled a little as she stood. "Harry — we need to find Harry."
Nessa might have found her behavior more disturbing if she weren't so laser focused on finding her brother. Before any of them could pester Tori for what had caused her sudden shift in emotion, Nessa was racing back toward the campsite at a sprint and the others were forced to follow her or risk being left behind. She broke through the wood a moment later to utter silence on the campground.
Tents were crumpled and aflame, belongings strewn across the ground haphazardly. The people who had not yet made it out of the campsite had stopped so suddenly that everyone behind them was tripping over them in their haste to stop their momentum. The wizards in the center of the field, including the Ministry wizards, were eyeing the symbol above them in horror. And then people started Disapparating by the hundreds, so many at once that the normal soft POP rang in her ears.
It was not lost on Nessa that the wizards in masks were the first to disappear. Ginny screamed when the Muggles they'd been holding began freefalling now that their puppeteers were no longer holding them aloft. And then a handful of Ministry wizards disappeared as well, Arthur Weasley among them.
Nessa took off at a run for the wizards in the middle of the field. They'd managed to catch the Robertses before they hit the ground and mediwizards and Ministry officials were swarming them, trying to pull them away from the others. Charlie Weasley was holding the youngest boy, speaking frantically to one of the mediwizards and gesturing at his head and neck.
Bill and Percy looked up to see the five of them running toward them and broke away from the group.
"What are you doing here?" Percy said angrily, holding his shirt to a bloody nose. "Dad told you —"
"Harry," Nessa gasped desperately. "Have you seen Harry?"
"No, he was supposed to be with you," Percry said pompously.
She heard Ginny snap at him for being so insensitive, but Nessa didn't have the time to deal with Percy's superiority complex. She whirled, looking back at the woods beyond them and her entire stomach dropped out.
Oh, God, she'd left him. If he was the one who was dead…
Bill was beside her in the next moment, his arm bleeding profusely.
"Dad apparated directly there, Nessa," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort. She was crying, she realized, staring so hard at the mark above her that her eyes were burning. Ministry wizards were disappearing, running off in all directions to take care of what was left of the situation, leaving the group of them alone in the middle of the campsite, but all she could see was that Mark above her. "They'll get whoever it was, and everything will be fine. C'mon, let's go back to the tent and —"
"Looking for your brother, Potter?" said a drawling voice from her left.
She turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone, his face holding a sick sort of awe as he looked up at the Dark Mark shimmering above them. It made her want to vomit, seeing that sort of respect for something that represented something so sick, but he moved to grin at her. The grin might have been worse.
"Sod off, Malfoy," George snapped from behind her.
Malfoy ignored him, his eyes glittering with delight.
"I saw him in there, you know," he said to her gleefully. "Yeah, I reckon it wasn't far from where that mark was conjured —"
"Liar," she snarled, her wand hand shaking so hard that she was surprised she didn't drop her wand entirely.
"Personally, I hope whoever it is killed him on the way out —"
Nessa was on him immediately, her wand tip poking at his throat so hard that the skin around it went white and bloodless. Malfoy tried to rear back, cowering in fear and looking as though he were tempted to start crying.
Tori's hand, still shaking from whatever had caused her to freeze up earlier, encircled her wrist and squeezed hard.
"You can't use magic outside of school, Potter," Malfoy spluttered, looking behind him for help that wasn't coming. "You'll be expelled."
"They'll have no way of knowing I used magic at all," Nessa snarled. "There's too many wizards around to tell the difference between me or Bill or Percy. But a pureblood like you, surely already knew that, didn't you?"
"My father —"
"Your father can burn in hell," she spat. "He's a great, disgusting coward with his head so far up the Minister's arse that he doesn't know which way is forward. And, unfortunately for Daddy dearest, the Potter name holds quite a bit of sway in the Wizarding world. I'd like to see him take a shot at me, Draco — who do you think would win in the end? Would you like to bet on it?"
Malfoy snarled at her, but she pushed her wand tighter against his throat and he choked, pulling himself as far away from it as possible.
"Where is my brother?"
"I — I don't know!" he exclaimed desperately. "I saw him near the Mark, but the Mudblood —"
"Watch. Your. Mouth."
" — Granger dragged him away. I don't know where they went after that."
He wasn't lying. She could see it in his eyes, no longer alight with haughty glee, but fear that she wouldn't believe him. She lowered her wand immediately and took a step back from him, her desperation to find her brother hardly diminished at all. Malfoy sagged in relief, glowering at them all.
"Not a word, Malfoy," Tori warned quietly. "Run off to daddy if you know what's good for you?"
"Where is daddy?" Percy said suspiciously. "I didn't see him helping us with the Muggles."
Malfoy smirked at them.
"I don't see what business that is of yours, Weasel," he drawled, looking over each of the Weasleys with clear disgust. "If you spent as much time working as you did worrying about your precious Muggles, I expect you could —"
"Draco!"
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were racing toward them, shooting wary glances back at the wood, and carrying what looked to be all of their belongings. Lucius Malfoy looked more haggard than Nessa had ever seen him, his robes crooked and hair in disarray.
"Draco, we told you to wait for us!" Narcissa said in a clear, cold voice, though she was looking her son over with worry as if she'd expected to find him in pieces. "What are you doing with this filth? What will people think if they see you with them?"
The Weasleys glared at her, but Nessa merely raised an eyebrow.
"Leaving so soon?" she drawled, eyeing their bags pointedly.
"Well, we can hardly leave our son in such an unprotected location, can we?" Narcissa replied, looking down her nose at her as if she were a speck of dirt on her clean linoleum. "The Ministry has no regard for the safety of wizards. Look at the riff-raff they've allowed in."
She nodded pointedly at the Weasleys and Tori, who growled at her in warning.
"Always good knowing that you're threatened by Muggle-borns and their sympathizers, Mrs. Malfoy," she said coolly. "You should be, considering how easily one of them beats your son in every one of his classes."
"I daresay, she'll be learning quite the lesson this evening," Lucius Malfoy purred. "I'd check on her if I were you. You never know what could have befallen her in such a dangerous situation."
Nessa glared at him and took a step closer.
"You know what I think, Mr. Malfoy?" she said dangerously, her anger spiking so suddenly at his veiled threat that one of the tents exploded behind him. The Weasleys swore in surprise. "I don't think you're running from those masked wizards at all. I think you're running from that."
She pointed at the Mark above her and his eyes flickered up to it quickly and then returned to her face, his usual sneer still in place.
"Are they not one in the same, Miss Potter?"
"No, I don't think so," she said. "See, those masked wizards — they disappeared rather quickly when they saw it, wouldn't you say? Death Eaters, do they call themselves?" She smiled dangerously at him as he continued glowering at her. The others had gone silent and still, watching Mr. Malfoy carefully at her taunting. "Well, I don't see why you would — they, so sorry — why they would do that unless they had reason to be running from Lord Voldemort, do you?"
The Weasleys flinched behind her, but she kept her gaze trained on Mr. Malfoy, who's face contorted with rage.
"You dare speak his name? You insolent foolhardy —"
"What did you tell them, Mr. Malfoy?" she interrupted smoothly. "That you were forced to follow him? That he threatened your family?" she tutted mockingly and his fingers twitched around the cane that she knew held his wand. "I wonder what he'll think of that, don't you? I imagine he wouldn't be entirely pleased. I suspect all the money in the world wouldn't save you from him, would it?"
There was a long silence as he stared at her, Draco looking between them as if trying to determine why his father didn't outright deny it, some of that earlier awe he'd had being replaced with fear as he looked up at the Mark.
"Your parents were stupid fools as well," Mr. Malfoy said finally, straightening himself haughtily. "Follow in their footsteps, Miss Potter, and you'll end up just where they did. And your brother with you."
She flicked her wrist at him, shouting "Everte Statum!" Tori, who had been gripping onto her wand hand still to keep her from raising it, shouted in alarm as Mr. Malfoy went flying backwards. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, drawing his wand and pointing it at her as if he had not a care that everyone in the Weasley family were pointing their wands at him to protect her from his retaliation, although none of them looked particularly happy with this turn of events.
"You won't ever lay a hand on my brother," Nessa growled at him, her eyes flashing. "Not one finger, do you understand me?"
"I wonder," said Mr. Malfoy, sweeping his arm out for his wife and son, who hurried toward him. "If your friends know what lengths you might go to in order to protect your brother. What atrocities you might commit. With a temper like that, you will be the first to die, Vanessa Potter."
And then he twisted and disapparated in front of them.
Waiting in the tent for Mr. Weasley and the others to return was almost worse than being outside and seeing the destruction left behind. The boys had laid into her immediately after Mr. Malfoy had left, telling her how stupid and dangerous it had been to provoke him, but she'd barely listened. Wasn't even entirely certain if she'd even bothered responding.
With a temper like that, you will be the first to die, Vanessa Potter.
…What lengths you might go to to protect your brother.
The words had rang in her head for far longer than she'd have liked. She'd never had someone voice them so openly to her before. Tori had always told her that she had to remember, through her rage, that her brother was a wizard and a good one at that. The twins had made it clear that she was a bit terrifying when she was on the warpath. But none of them had ever put voice to the worries now running rampant in her head.
What atrocities you might commit…
She'd had to distract herself with other things in an attempt to keep herself from thinking too hard about those words. From considering what the presence of the Dark Mark meant for the future and its relation to Trelawney's prophecy and the dream Harry had had only two days before. From worrying over and over if her brother was alive in that wood because Mr. Weasley was taking so long to get back….
The excitement from the World Cup felt like years ago now.
"That little boy is fine, by the way," Charlie said gently, as she leaned over him to look at the cut across his chest. "He had some swelling, but the mediwizards were able to get it down to normal."
Nessa nodded, waving her wand over his injury and staring harder than was necessary as the blood slowed. She'd not known what else to do when they'd gotten back to the tent other than try and help them heal what injuries they had. Bill was bleeding from a wound in his arm, trying to staunch the flow with a bloody cloth. Percy was still holding his shirt to his bloody nose. The twins were sitting on either side of an anxious-looking Ginny. Tori had been sitting at the table, arms wrapped around herself, staring off into the distance in an uncanny silence.
"You might have saved that boy's life, Nessa," Charlie said again. "If you hadn't told me to get him down first, he might not have made it."
Nessa exhaled and tried her best to smile at him, but it was wobbly and weak. The joy and relief at knowing this was not enough to cover the immense anxiety and grief that were swallowing her whole. She moved to Bill next, who hissed when she pulled the cloth he'd been using to cover his wound.
"It's deep," she said softly. "I can slow the blood loss, but I'm not familiar with a spell that will heal something this deep and I assume you don't want to lose the arm completely if I make a mistake —"
Bill laughed.
"Not particularly," he said dryly. "Dad can heal it when he gets back with the others."
"You shouldn't be doing magic anyway," Percy grumbled at her. "As a Ministry employee, I —"
Nessa pointed her wand behind her without looking and muttered the spell she'd used on Charlie to stop the blood pouring out of his nose. Percy stumbled backward in surprise and Charlie snorted.
"On Earth, we say thank you, Percy," Nessa said. "But you've lost a lot of blood, so I'll let it go."
Bill chuckled as she leaned over his arm again and muttered the spell a few times.
"Ron always made it sound like you hardly talked," he said, laughing again when she rolled her eyes. "It's making more and more sense how you wound up friends with those three."
He jerked his head at the twins and Tori across the room. Nessa was trying to think up something witty to say in response to that when they heard a commotion outside. Nessa whirled toward the entrance as Charlie raced to stick his head out of the tent to check on what was happening.
"Dad, what's going on?" he called out. "We've got most of the kids, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione —"
"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending and entering the tent.
Nessa hardly heard through the whooshing relief in her ears, nearly plowing Mr. Weasley down as she threw herself at her brother. Ron caught him when the force nearly sent them toppling backward.
"Merlin, Nessa —"
"Where. Have. You. Been?" Nessa said to her brother, cutting Ron off completely, and punctuating each word with a smack to her brother's chest. "I've been worried sick. Malfoy said that you —"
"I'm fine," Harry said, grasping her hands in his to keep her from fussing over him. She was doing an odd mixture of gentle tugging on his face and extremities to see if he had any injuries while also hitting him lightly in every place she could find. "Malfoy's just a git, Nessa, you know that."
She did, but, as unaware as some of their party may have been to the events of last year or Harry's odd dream, she couldn't stop her imagination from running rampant. And Harry, who normally found her coddling incredibly irritating, seemed to be of the same mind because he didn't even fight her when she pushed him into a seat and continued looking over every inch of him. If she saw so much as a hair out of place —
"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"
"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."
"What?" said Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Nessa together.
"Harry's wand?" said Fred.
"Mr. Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.
With some assistance from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished, Percy swelled indignantly.
"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to…embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry…how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control —"
Nessa whirled on him and nearly knocked Harry backwards off his chair. Would have if Charlie didn't have the reflexes of a snake; he caught the back of Harry's chair just as it began to teeter and pushed it back upright.
"She didn't do anything wrong!" she snapped at him, fire blazing behind her eyes. "She could have been seriously injured if she'd stayed in her tent. Or have you not seen the look of the three of you!"
She pointed at him, Bill, and Charlie.
"A wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who is going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously.
Nessa scoffed, but Hermione began shouting at him before she could say anything else.
"She didn't run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!"
"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone…Why's it such a big deal?"
Tori moved for the first time in an hour, glaring at him harshly.
"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."
The fact that this was also the book Nessa had read about it was not lost on her. Maybe she really did spend too much time in the library…
"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly.
"That's not true," Tori said, her voice dull and devoid of emotion.
"What's that?" Mr. Weasley said, looking at her cautiously.
"It's been only eleven years," she said. "There was one over our house the night Mum died. I remember seeing it when we were leaving."
Nessa flinched and Mr. Weasley seemed to pale rapidly. There was a very long silence following this information, one which none of them seemed to know how to break. Ron, however, had the social awareness of a common gnat.
"I don't get it," Ron said, frowning, his tone cautious as he looked at Tori. "I mean…it's still only a shape in the sky…"
"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired..,you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside…" Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear…the very worst…"
There was another long silence. Then Bill, removing the cloth from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."
"Death Eaters?" said Harry, looking at his sister in confusion. "What are Death Eaters?"
"It's what Voldemort's followers called themselves," she responded. Everyone, including Mr. Weasley, flinched at the name and the casualness with which she spoke it. "Some sort of warped idea of playing God, calling themselves that. Those masks are — were a symbol of their status, their power, their allegiance. It's why so many people ran for the woods rather than helping the Robertses."
"I think we saw what's left of them tonight," said Bill. "The ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."
"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.
"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"
"But what were Voldemort's supporters —" Harry began. Everybody flinched again. "Sorry," he added quickly.
"Don't apologize," Nessa said sharply, causing her brother to whip his head toward her in surprise. "It's only a name. It holds power only if you allow it to. You give him exactly what he wants when you refuse to say it."
There was a long, uncomfortable silence at these words, and there was not a single person in the tent who didn't look particularly embarrassed by these words.
"What were You-Know —" Harry caught his sister's sharp expression and cleared his throat. "What were Voldemort's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"
"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who," — it was not lost on Nessa that his eyes flicked to her when he said it — "was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.
"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"
"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill and Nessa snorted. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives…I don't reckon he'd be overpleased with them, do you?"
"So…whoever conjured the Dark Mark…" said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters or to scare them away?"
"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this…it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now…Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."
They all stood slowly and dispersed without a word, heads churning with the events of the evening. Mr. Weasley helped Bill heal the cut on his arm as Nessa gave Harry a hug before he headed off to bed. Hermione and Ginny waited for her and Tori by the door, but Tori didn't bother making her way toward the exit; instead, she took Fred's outstretched hand, mutely, and let him pull her toward the bedroom he shared with his brothers. Mr. Weasley looked as though he might insist that she sleep in the girls' tent, but instead, he sighed heavily, his eyes sorrowful, kissing Tori on the top of her head and waving her off to bed.
The Mark hadn't dimmed in the hour since they'd been sent to bed.
Nessa was sitting just outside the boys' tent, her knees pulled up to her chest and staring up at the sky above her blankly. She watched it wave as if caught in a breeze, watched the snake continue weaving in and out of the gaping mouth on a constant loop. There was no sound from the campsite, but a few tents were still smoking, the entirety of the area colored in the ominous emerald green.
She was shivering from the chill in the air, even with Fred's sweater pulled over her knees to cover her legs and her arms pulled through the sleeves and curled against her chest. The glow of it was mostly protected within their tent, but she hadn't been able to sleep knowing that it was still out there, looming overhead like a silent stalker.
What atrocities you might commit…
She swore softly and buried her face in her sweater-covered knees. The words did not help with her general anxiety or the threat that she kept looking over her shoulders for. On the contrary, it added another sort of anxiety to the entire thing. The Dark Mark ahead, coupled with Harry's dream, a Muggle murder, Bertha Jorkins' disappearance from Albania of all places, and Professor Trelawney's prediction…
All of them together were making for a horrifying pattern that she wasn't particularly interested in, and she had no chance of running from. Mr. Malfoy's words were a horrible reminder that whatever resulted from this pattern of events had the potential to turn her into a monster herself. If Voldemort came back to full power and began hunting her brother, was there anything she wouldn't do to protect him? Would she kill to protect him? Would she try to fight Voldemort herself to spare her brother from the battle — even if it meant she would die in his place? Would she betray her friends to keep him safe?
What atrocities you might commit…
She hated herself for thinking so hard about it, for having doubts about her loyalty. She hated herself for giving Lucius Malfoy the power to unseat her emotionally. She hated herself for having doubts about the lengths she would go to keep her brother safe. She'd always done so, and done so without any regard for her own or others' safety — or feelings — so long as he made it out of the situation alive and unharmed.
Maybe that was her problem — maybe she was the one who needed to be watched. Because even if she did any of those things in order to protect her brother…did it excuse them? Did it not make her just as bad — just as evil — as Voldemort and his Death Eaters?
With a temper like that, you will be the first to die, Vanessa Potter.
Nessa jumped a mile in the air at the sound of someone exiting the boys' tent. She would have tried to make a run for it before Mr. Weasley could find her out here overanalyzing like a lunatic, except her legs and arms were trapped under Fred's stupid jumper. All she ended up doing was rolling backward in a forced little ball as if she were merely an egg unable to stay upright.
"What exactly are you doing out here?" George said, walking over to stand directly over her and clearly trying not to laugh. "Is this something the Muggles taught you to do? Because I've got to say —"
Nessa huffed at him and struggled to pull her knees out of the oversize shirt she was still wearing.
"I thought you were Mr. Weasley," she said with an eye roll, finally managing to untangle her legs from the mess she'd made of her limbs under the shirt. Sighing in relief, she pushed her arms back through the sleeves and pushed herself back up to sit. George was still overly amused. "Don't start, George. What are you doing up anyway?"
He raised an eyebrow and took a seat next to her on the ground, looking up at the Mark above them and then back at her, a knowing look in his eyes.
"I could be asking you the same thing, although I suspect I already know the answer," he said casually.
One of them had been smart enough to bring a blanket with them and he offered her the other half silently. She pulled it around her shoulders, sighing in relief when the warmth enveloped her, and pulled her knees back up to her chest.
"I heard you come to sit out here," George explained finally, shifting so that they were shoulder to shoulder under the blanket. He was so much warmer than she was and the difference between his heat and the cool air made her shiver. "Your stealthiness leaves something to be desired."
She snorted.
"Noted," she said. "I thought everyone would have been asleep anyway —"
"Not with you stomping around out here, we weren't," he joked. "A hurricane would have made less noise —"
"Alright, that's enough," she said, trying to look serious, but smiling despite herself. "I've been thoroughly admonished, thank you."
He chuckled and looked back up at the sky. His smile vanished immediately.
"It could be a fluke, you know," he said, almost as if he were really hoping it were. She couldn't help but wish the same herself, even though she didn't believe it.
"There's too much happening for it to be a fluke," she responded quietly, watching his face carefully. She could see the Mark moving in the reflection of his eyes. "I don't know if I even believe in flukes anymore."
He looked away from it finally and smirked at her.
"No?" he said dryly. "No more talk of Trelawney being a barmy, old bat? Are you going to start practicing dream analysis? Because I've got a few rather saucy ones I could use some interpretation for —"
She rolled her eyes and held up one of her hands to stop him from continuing.
"I really do not want to know," she said, only half-joking. He huffed a laugh at her, as she continued, "But no, that's not what I'm saying. Just because Trelawney told one true prophecy in her — well, she's got to be at least a hundred —"
"Two hundred," he said seriously and she snorted.
"Right, well, the point is, she's still a crackpot. And dreams are still just dreams." She looked up at the Mark again and sighed heavily. "But that — that is very real. That is something I can see —"
"Ron is right that it's just a symbol," he said gently.
"Symbols have meaning, George," she said. "We always knew he would come back eventually. Or at least I assumed he would. I just sort of hoped I'd be dead by then." She paused again. "Plus, I don't know, it's — it sounds stupid, but I just — I feel something different."
"It's not stupid," he said quietly, looking at her intently. "What do you think the person who sent the Mark up meant to do, then, oh wise one?"
She might have rolled her eyes again, but she could tell he was trying to blunt his own fear at the thought of Voldemort's return with humor, so she decided to let him. Her coping mechanism was denial; his was inappropriate humor — clearly, they were both well-rounded individuals.
"I don't know," she said. "It's hard to think they did it just to scare them off. I mean, what would be the point? You'd think they would have gone out there and terrorized the Muggles themselves. And Harry was just sitting there with no wand…they could have killed him instead of sending up the Mark, couldn't they? The whole thing feels absurd."
"Maybe that's a good sign," he said. "Maybe it means You-Know —" George stopped speaking for so long that Nessa looked over at him in confusion. He shook his head and cleared his throat, as if preparing himself to go into battle. "Maybe it means V-Voldemort's plan isn't exactly well-thought out."
She stared at him for a long moment, but he looked so tense, she decided not to remark on the fact that he'd said his name. He'd winced as it had left his mouth, and he didn't look entirely convinced that He wouldn't just appear out of thin air, but he'd said it anyway.
"I don't think that's the problem," she said instead. "Voldemort's always got a plan — they're just usually so crazy, none of us see it until it's too late."
They lapsed into silence again and she went back to staring at the Mark above her. It seemed to be fading slowly now, the green of it less blinding, but still clear enough to see the shape. She didn't have to imagine coming home to the Mark overhead to be afraid of it. She'd die happy if she never had to see it again, never had to feel this sort of dread building in her gut. Even once it disappeared from the sky completely, it would leave a horrible mark on her soul, remembering this moment and how it had felt to see it for the first time.
"You really should sleep, love," George said quietly. "You've been up all night."
She sighed sadly.
"I know, but I just — it's hard to sleep when I feel so…helpless," she admitted. "And I — I just don't think I'm strong enough for this, George."
The panic she felt, the overwhelming dread, the millions of questions and scenarios that were playing out behind her eyes…It was all so close that it already felt like Voldemort had returned in full force. It was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat at the thought of Tori and the twins dead, faces stuck eternally with their final laugh or an overwhelming horror that no one else could see. It was hard to keep breathing past the boulder on her chest at the thought of her boggart coming true before her eyes, what it would feel like to wonder if she had what it took to protect Harry. It was far too easy to imagine how empty and hollow her life would become without any one of them. It was worse to know that if Voldemort's imminent return would not keep any of the people she loved out of the crossfire — they would fight against him because it was what was right and would willingly lay down their lives to do it.
Her eyes burned as she considered it — what all could go wrong in a single moment, in the flash of an eye. How much destruction one man's backwards ideology could cause. She was not powerful enough to beat him — not yet — and she was not brave enough, not selfless enough to watch her brother risk his life to save this world. She wasn't strong enough — physically or emotionally — to deal with this and live with herself afterward.
"You're the strongest person I've ever met, Vanessa," George said firmly.
"I'm not," she choked, the fear and pain so overwhelming that the lump in her throat was growing and her heart felt like it was splitting to pieces. "I don't think I can watch you all — watch Harry — I don't think I'll ever be strong enough for this. What are we supposed to do if this is real? If this isn't just a fluke or a stupid prank? What am I willing to do to protect my brother?"
George was silent for a long moment and she tried not to wonder what that silence could mean. She tried not to wonder if it meant that he was wondering too if she would turn into something she'd hate by the time this was all over. By the time he'd turned her face to look at him directly, she was nearly at the point of no return.
"If he comes back, if it comes to that, then we'll do exactly what you told Harry we would do," he said firmly. "We'll fight — together. If this is real — not a fluke, not a prank, but real — then we'll do what we have to to keep each other safe. Whatever it takes to beat Him — because the alternative is unimaginable. You will not commit atrocities. You will not be the first to die. I won't let you."
"But what would I do in the name of keeping Harry safe?" she said. "I almost let a man die last year, George. I would have let him. It scares the hell out of me how easily I let go of myself, of my morals, just to protect him. How does that make me different from any of them?"
"They kill for the fun of it," he said. "They don't know or understand anything about love or friendship or true sacrifice. You are nothing like them just because you protect the people you love."
"But I —"
"But nothing," he said sharply. "That's it, Vanessa. Don't let him into your head. There's nothing in the world I wouldn't do to keep my family safe. I'll make my peace with that if it comes to that. So will you," He sighed heavily at the panic still in her eyes. "But none of that is happening here. None of that is happening right now. But if it does come to that — because maybe it won't — then we'll do what we have to. You are strong enough for this." When she went to speak again, he put a finger over her lips. "And if you aren't…then I suppose I'll just have to be strong enough for the both of us."
The words ripped her apart and soothed her all at once, somehow making her heart swell so much that it nearly cracked to pieces. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his and squeezed her eyes shut against the warmth spreading through her limbs.
"Don't sweet talk me, George Weasley," she choked wetly.
He huffed a laugh, his breath brushing against her face and tickling her cheeks.
"I can't help myself, sweetheart," he said, his voice lighter than it had been previously. "It's my natural charm."
She scoffed.
"I hardly think so. You've always been a brat."
"Behave yourself," he quipped, poking her in the side. "Now go get some sleep."
He leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her mouth before standing and pulling her to her feet. She shivered when she was forced to hand him the blanket back and the cold air brushed against her legs.
"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing hard.
He squeezed back, burying his face in her hair.
"Goodnight, George," she said, pulling back from him slowly.
He murmured the words back to her before turning to go back to his own tent. She'd nearly gotten inside her own when his voice made her turn back around to look at him.
"Hey, love?" he said. He was grinning arrogantly at her when she turned to face him and she gave him a wary look when he looked her slowly up and down, his eyes lingering slightly on her bare legs. "Next time you need a sweater, do me a favor and wear mine instead, yeah?"
Very long chapter, but so much is happening, and I may make the next one a little shorter than usual. Maybe. Possibly. 1) I cannot resist the urge for Nessa to start shit over Harry - especially with a Malfoy. 2) I love Tori and Fred so much. I cannot. 3) I swear to all of you that I proofread these chapters before I download them to FF. The site just loves to cut off my sentences midway. If I notice it after I post, I will try to fix it LOL.