“Don’t tell your mother you’ve been gambling,” Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as we all made our 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. 

Good choice.

Make a list of things that are irritating me right now:

-Annoying headache

-Throbbing head

-The pain in my brain

-Pulsing in my skull

-The fact that I can’t think of another way to describe my headache.

-Harry’s questions.

-Failure to find a reason why I am making a list in my head.

I’m a bit weird...just a little bit.

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! I made a funny. I’m a little bit weird...I’m so full of crap.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to our campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns.

“Llama. Llama. Alpaca. Sheep. Lemon. Fruit. DEMON PIGS!” I said as we walked.

When we finally reached the tents, nobody- but me - felt like sleeping, and given the level of noise around us, Mr. Weasley agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

I told everyone I was nearly dead, and so I went to the other tent, changed and I climbed into my bed.

From the other side of the campsite I could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang. 

I lay in bed, unable to sleep despite the fact I had wanted to all night, and stuff ran through my mind.

I think I can finally let it all go.

My Father – Lucius Malfoy I mean – and all of the hell and misery he put me through. I think I will actually be able to move forward in my life.

Wow. I actually feel a bit better. Which is like an amazing amazement.

I’m really not good with words.

And...well...I think I’m in love with George.

That’s it. I’ve said it.

I don’t know if it is some iffy teenage love thing, but I don’t think it is. I think this is real.

Of course, every teen love story the girl thinks she is really in love, but the guy is faking it and breaks her heart....

But what if it is the other way around? What if I’m too indecisive and I end up breaking his heart? Could I live knowing I crushed his heart? He will probably break my heart if I pour it out to him right? Or we will both be so deeply in love that the world stands still...

I watch too many movies.

Now, I must sleep.

I must have drifted off into sleep, because I heard Mr. Weasley’s voice.

“Willow, get up! Ginny, Hermione, come on now, get up, this is urgent! Willow, come on!”

I rolled out of bed and onto the floor.

Divine skills.

“What’s up?” I asked sleepily. But I knew something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I could hear screams, and the sound of people running.

Upon standing up I realised my headache was still there. Perfect. I hurried out of the tent, Pulling Hermione and Ginny with me. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward us, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. 

Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward me; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

I was scared...A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. I tried to identify them, but they didn’t have faces. They were hooded, and wearing masks.

I think they’re Death Eaters...I have a feeling about who they are...High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. 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 I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder – rebounding in my eardrums – making my head throb.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and I recognized one of them: 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. 

I felt like throwing up.

“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…” 

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

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley 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. The rest of us followed but something went all fuzzy and I saw no more.

*** *** ***

I wrenched my eyes open.

I seemed to be just into the woods, but I don’t remember walking to there. My head was still throbbing, and I could still hear screams.

I was alone. All alone in the woods.

Or was I?

I had that haunting feeling of being watched.

I peered around and saw the silhouette of a man.

I knew that silhouette. I had seen it in the doorway of my former prison far too many times.

“We meet again.” Lucius Malfoy snarled cruelly at me, walking into a patch of light.

Fear shot through me. I am strong. I am powerful. I am more awesome than him. I am strong-

“Liar” A voice called in my mind.

“So we do.” I said sounding stronger than I felt. “I’ll be going now...” I stood up and attempted to leave, but a swish of his wand and I was pushed up against a tree, completely immobile.

Well shit.

“Not. So. Fast.” He growled at me. “I wanted to teach you a lesson for being-“

 “No, piss off!” I snapped. “I’m sick of all this shit you do! Just because Voldemort-“ he cut me off. Good thing too, I didn’t know what to say.

“BITCH DON’T YOU SPEAK HIS NAME! YOU SQUIB!” Lucius screamed.

“I’m not a squib, we’ve been over this.” I said sounding somewhat bored. I was actually scared out of my wits, but my emotions do as they please.

“You stupid insolent child.” Lucius Malfoy glowered. “I will-“

“You can’t hurt me anymore!” I shrieked. “YOU WILL NEVER HURT ME!”

 “Really?” he said. He walked over to where I stood and ran a finger down my cheek. “I will ruin you.” A tear escaped my eye as my emotions kicked in.

On another note, I will say how shitty my emotions are. They are weird and never happen at the right time.

Just saying.

“Bull shit. This whole time you have been crapping on about ‘I will’ but what have you done? Nothing!” I said sounding annoying.

WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

“Crucio!”

Damn, I thought he was bluffing.

I had almost forgotten how this pain felt. I felt as though knives were being sliced into every part of me possible. The pain was unbearable. I was on fire, I was going to explode, I was miserable and all of my happy memories were gone. Everything was dead. Death.

George. Hermione. Harry. Ron. Everyone I had loved was dead.

I had never had this kind of pain before...I hadn’t been tortured since I had family.

It was shit.

I like the word shit, it explains stuff nicely.

Emotionally, I felt like that ten year old girl again. The one in the basement; unloved and friendless.

I had grown over the last three years. I became someone. A friend, a sister...but now...now I was stuck back as that petrified little girl. The manipulated and insecure ten year old me.

“NO YOU CAN’T HAVE ME! I WONT LET YOU!” I screamed into the night.

Suddenly the pain stopped.

I wasn’t forced against a tree anymore.

“How-?” Lucius asked in utter confusion.

Stupid shit.

In years to come, I would never be able to explain my actions. I will never ever be able to tell anyone why I did what I was about to do.

“Go.” I told him. “Go, I won’t say anything. You know me. You know I won’t. Just go.”

He looked at me in a kind of – no it couldn’t be – thanks...then was gone.

I think he will always be able to manipulate me.

Shit. I’m such a lemon.

I began to cry, but it didn’t even make sense. I don’t even know if I was feeling sad or happy. Like I said before. My emotions do as they please.

“I like llamas.” I said sadly. I then started laughing. But I was still crying.

I'M SO FREAKING EMOTIONAL AND IT’S NOT FAIR!

It seemed like an hour before I felt someone hit me. I was still crying. Where I managed to get the random source of water from, I don’t know. Maybe I’m like a camel...but my hump is my...I’m not going to continue that sentence.

“Willow?” it was Hermione. She’d fallen over me.

“Hi.” I said weakly.

“I thought you were with Fred and George.” Harry said in shock.

“No. I’ve...err...been chilling by this tree.” I tried to sound casual, but unless you were extremely retarded, you would have realised some shit had gone down.

“Willow.” Said four frustrated voices. “What happened?”

Damn, they’re not retarded.

“Nothing, really.” I pulled myself to my feet.

“You were crying though.” Hermione said observing me.

“No, it just rained on me.” I sounded so blasé I think I confused them. Good.

“Umm...really?” Mr. Weasley said. Him and Ron had the same expression and it made me laugh.

So now I’m standing here, in front of three of my friends and Ron’s dad, laughing like a serial killer my face fresh with tears and looking rather like someone who needs to be permanently put into the insane ward at St. Mungo’s....

“I think she’s okay...” Harry said observing me.

“Does ‘lost-her-bloody-mind’ count as okay?” Ron asked.

“This is Willow we’re talking about...” Hermione chipped in.

It seemed by a silent mutual agreement, they all decided I was fine.

That’s good. They don’t need to worry about me.

Or my lack of sanity....

I rhymed. Hehehehe.

Mr. Weasley led Harry, Ron, Hermione and I through the crowd and back into the campsite. 

Hermione and the boys informed me of what happened to them in hushed voices.

“Someone cast the Dark Mark – you-know-who’s sign.“ Ron started.

“Then all these ministry people popped up and tried to curse us, but we ducked, and then they argued, Mr. Weasley saved us.” Hermione went on.

“And he spoke sense, saying we couldn’t possibly do it.” Harry continued. “And then they found Winky – you know the house elf – in the woods, and she was holding my wand, they thought she cast the spell-“

“-But then Cedric’s dad said she’d have to learn it from somewhere-“ Ron went on excitedly.

“And Mr. Crouch assumed Mr. Diggory was practically accusing him-“ Hermione said face flushed.

They had a more impressive night than I.

“And then Hermione tripped over you, and you looked like a mental patient.” Harry added unable to keep the smirk off his face.

As we reached the campsite, it was quiet; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.   Charlie’s head was poking out of the boys’ tent. 

“Dad, what’s going on?” he called through the dark. “Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -” 

“I’ve got them here,” said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I entered after him.  Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken. 

George and I exchanged a look and he looked worried about me. I smiled weakly to show I was okay, though I really wasn’t.

“Did you get them, Dad?” said Bill sharply. “The person who conjured the Mark?” 

“No,” said Mr. Weasley. “We found Barry Crouch’s elf holding Harry’s wand, but we’re none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark.” 

“What?” said Bill, Charlie, and Percy 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.

With Mr. Weasley’s help, it actually made more sense then what they had told me, but fish don’t eat llamas anyway.

When they had finished their story, 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” 

“She didn’t do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!” Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others. 

“Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch’s position can’t afford a house-elf who’s going to run amok with a wand!” said Percy pompously, recovering himself. 

“She didn’t run amok!” shouted Hermione. “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?”  THANKYOU! I HAVE NO IDEA!

“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.” 

“And it hasn’t been seen for thirteen years,” said Mr. Weasley quietly. “Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again.” 

“I don’t get it,” said Ron, frowning. “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 silence for a moment.

Then Bill, removing the sheet 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 Roberts’ before they hit the ground, though. They’re having their memories modified right now.” 

“Death Eaters?” said Harry. “What are Death Eaters?”

“Voldemort’s supporters.” I said harshly. Almost everyone flinched.

There was an awkward silence. Everyone was staring at me, as though I was about to tell all about what happened to me. Stuff that.

“I think we saw what’s left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway.” Bill said to break the silence.

“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!”

Yeah, Ron! You’re right. Congrats! I want to give you a freaking round of applause! You said what no one else was going to say! Yay! It is the Malfoys!

I accidentally clapped and then I had a coughing fit to cover it up. Hermione gave me that knowing look. Damn it. She knows.

Hence, the knowing look.

What if she is pretending so I tell her?

Mind. Blown.

“But what were Voldemort’s supporters -” Harry began. Everybody -but me- flinched “Sorry,” said Harry quickly. “What were You-Know-Who’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 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. “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 over-pleased 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.” 

The girls and I went got back into our tent. I knew I ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, my head still pounding, but I felt wide-awake – wide awake, and worried.

I had a feeling there was something else going on that no one was telling me...Probably something with Harry. I bet he is asking questions in his head right now.

Finally, I started to count llamas and I fell asleep...at number sixty nine.

Hehehehehehe.

_______________

Hi everyone! I’m so slack with uploads lately! I’m sorry!

I am going to randomly dedicate chapters, like a Willow.

69

I Luff you all thanks for being epically awesome. Thankyou for eating French fries in the rain with me. Thanks for teaching me how to fly.

YOU DID THESE THINGS OKAY!

The name for this chapter is so boring. Just saying.

I like llamas. Did you know?

BYE AND I Luff YOU ALL!

Even you.

But not her. She’s a cow.

RAWR! LOAF! LUFF! LURVE! OLIVE!

LOVE YOU!