Victoria watched with a small smile on her lips as Ron climbed a table, eager to defend his opinions considering the game of the Irish against the Bulgarians in this Quidditch World Cup.

His twin brothers, Fred and George, circled him, their Irish flags functioning as capes in this particular instance. The duo ran around the table, shouting the name "Krum," in various tones, but mostly violently, as if they meant to drown out their younger brother's voice.

By now, Victoria didn't even know who was yelling the name and who was trying to imitate some sort of Irish music with their voice.

"There's no one like Krum!", Ron announced to those gathered.

Now the twins halted, looking up at their younger brother and asking in ridiculous voices "Krum?"

"He's like a bird the way he rides the wind!"

Victoria couldn't hold back a chuckle as the twins now began waving their Irish flags like they were wings, trying to imitate birds now.

"He's more than an athlete-"

Ron was shortly interrupted by one of the twins throwing his Irish flag over him, as if to stifle his words. But the youngest male Weasley didn't let himself be thrown out of his groove by that.

"He's an artist!"

"I think you're in love, Ron."

Victoria felt a kick against her shin and turned to see Harry almost falling off his chair from laughter. Oh boy, and the fun hasn't even really started yet.

"Viktor I love you," Fred began.

"Viktor I do-", George now followed.

"When we're apart, my heart only beats for you," the rest joined in on the twins' song dedicated to Ron's love of Viktor Krum.

And afterwards, nobody could hold back their laughter, Harry falling off his chair and pulling Victoria with him on the way down, the laughter of everyone else now loud enough to drown out the Irish outside.

"Sounds like the Irish got their pride out."

"Stop! Stop it!"

In almost an instant their laughter died down as Arthut Weasley came running in, grabbing everyones attention at once.

Fred lent Victoria a hand and pulled her to her feet, all their gazes fixated on Arthur, all noticing the slight look of panic on his face.

"That's not the Irish. We've got to get out of here."

They barely had the time to let those words sink in, when they all were ushered out of the tent, not even having the time to grab any kind of belonging.

As they came out of the tent, one by one they could see what kind of chaos had fallen across the camp.

This was clearly not the work of some Irish people who decided to celebrate their victory.

Victoria paled at the sight of the burning tents, the screaming people trying to get away as quick as possible.

"Get out, it's the Death Eaters!"

This one shout was definitely enough to put Victoria on edge. If Fred and George weren't by her side right now, holding her hands to not lose her already, she would've lost herself.

"Get to the portkey everybody and stick together!", Arthur ordered, wand already in hand, ready to fight.

"Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility, now go!"

The twins left the brunette's side only for a second to get their sister, but it was enough for her to already get shoved away by the crowd.

She cursed under her breath as she pushed her way back towards her group, the first person she got a hold on being Harry.

"Harry!"

He whipped his head around towards her, his eyes wide.

If there was one thing the two of them shared, it was panic.

Harry grabbed her hand tightly in his own, dead-set on not losing her in this crowd. They were told to stick together and if he could at least stick to one of them, he would sure try his hardest to do so.

While the two of them tried to somehow follow the Weasleys and Hermione through the crowd, they had to come to the realization that they had lost sight of them.

Victoria could feel her heart beating up her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. Panic was slowly beginning to eat her up as the only thing grounding her was Harry's hand holding hers, showing her he was there and that she wasn't alone in this crowd of mass-panic.

As the duo tried to fight their way through the crowd, they were, bit by bit, being pushed into wrong directions.

It didn't take long for them to lose complete orientation of where they were and where they were going.

As the young Snape was struggling to find some air to breathe, she found her focus fraying from the subject at hand - trying to get to the portkey.

And when Victoria lost hold of Harry's hand, the hope she had for safely making it out of here and surviving this night dissipated into thin air.