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Four: The Dark Mark

The trek back to the tent was quick and full of happy Irish supporters, celebrating their win. Once we reached our tent Mrs. Finnigan relit our fire and Seamus pulled out a pack of fireworks he’d purchased just for the occasion. We let off fireworks one by one, recapping the game and adding to the noise of the night. Tiny leprechauns zipped through the air above us, laughing and dropping gold dust wherever they went. All around us was the echo of songs being sung in drunken stupor.

My heart hammered into my chest as I danced with Seamus both of us attempting to entertain Mrs. Finnigan and Dean. We acted as though the kiss had never happened, like it had just been imagination, but I knew that it had, I just wish it hadn’t stopped. Late into the night as celebrations continued on, Ministry men stormed through the grounds, stifling cheers and songs, confiscating fireworks and other magic means of celebration. Before they could reach us Mrs. Finnigan sent us to bed, demanding we get some sleep so that we could leave early the next day.

~

It seemed as though I barely got a chance to close my eyes before I was rudely shaken awake by Mrs. Finnigan who peered between the railings of my bunk, “Up! Wake up! Hurry; grab your wands, up! Forget your things, quickly now, get to the woods!” she was saying, her face was distraught and contorted with horror and fear.

I sat up slowly, my mind was trying grasping the whole situation, as Mrs. Finnigan ran from the room I could see Seamus and Dean already on the ground pulling on jackets and grabbing their wands. Outside the tent there were sounds of people running by, their songs of celebration had changed to screams of terror and distress as they fled the unknown danger outside our tent walls. Feeling the urgency, I grabbed my wand and stumbled to the edge of the bunk reaching out for Seamus to grab me and help me down. He quickly grabbed me by under the armpits and pulled me from the bunk, shoving my jacket into my hands.

“Hurry Sophia!” Seamus said, barely giving me time to pull on my jacket before he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the tent.

Outside the world radiated a horrific shade of red and orange as tents were shot from their spot and set aflame. I followed the blast of one tent and my eyes landed on a large mass of wizards, and wearing their black robes with masks hiding their faces, they marched forward laughing insanely and shouting to one another. Their wands pointed to the sky, only occasionally falling to blast another tent out of way.

I screamed and pushed Seamus toward the woods, running as fast as I could, and shouting for Dean to stay close behind. The run to the woods seemed like forever, fear crept up my throat and sat there, making everything feel as though it wasn’t going fast enough. We didn’t stop running until we reached the dense cover of trees, and moved as deep as we could into the woods, surrounding ourselves by people but still keeping the horrible scene in sight.

I looked back to the campgrounds, unable to resist the urge to look up and see what they were poiningt at. Hovering high above their heads was a muggle family, the parents still conscious but the two children were not, one spun like a bottle top, his head lolling back and forth pathetically. My stomach lurched and I bent over to puke, what on earth was going on? Who would do that to a child? My heart ached as I watched the scene, unable to pull my eyes from it. A sudden shout of laughter and glee split through the group of wizards, above them the muggle women flipped over, her panties went on display for the whole world to see. She struggled hopelessly to cover herself; all I could do was stand and watch.

Tears began running down my cheeks, and for the first time I was aware of how cold I was as they burned a trail to my chin. I turned away from the parade of wizards and to Seamus, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, sobbing hard as his arms wrapped protectively around me, who could do such a thing to a family who had no means of protecting themselves? They were defenseless to the means of magic.

“Who are they?” Dean whispered to Seamus.

“Death Eaters.” Seamus’ throat shook as he answered.

The name echoed through my head, His followers, and the ones who did all of His dirty work. The witches and wizards who returned back to us, begging that they were forced to do it. They lived among us every day, working in our Ministry, selling us our groceries, our neighbors. Our friends even. Give them one event, give them some liquor, and watch them go wild, reminiscing the good old days when He was feared.

“What are Death Eaters?” Dean’s voice asked, sounding closer to me than before.

“They’re You-Know-Who’s followers.” I answered, turning my head just a bit so that I could see Dean, never letting my head leave Seamus’ body.

A look of fear shot through his eyes, “That’s not right! He’s dead! Why are they still here? Shouldn’t they all be in Azkaban?” Dean stammered.

I felt sorry, he had more to fear than any of us, he was muggle born, and if the group there knew he was here they’d probably do something horrible.

“Some of them claimed to have been forced into work, so they're still here, they’re probably all just drunk, having a fun the way they did in the dark days.”

Suddenly there was a blast from deeper in the woods, causing people to scream. The whole forest lit up an eerie green, casting long shadows that reached for you, wanting to steal you away. My eyes shot to the sky, and my heart started to race faster. A cold sweat broke over me and I screamed in fear, my throat stung as I screamed, unable to control myself. Above us shimming green against the black sky was the Dark Mark, a broken skull with a deadly serpent slithered through and around it, coming from the open mouth like a tongue. All through the woods shrieks and cries could be heard, the feeling of fear turned to one of dread.

“The Dark Mark, it’s His sign.” Seamus said to Dean, pulling me closer.

Dean looked from the sky, and then back to the campground, “Then why are the Death Eaters scattering?”

I watched as the pieces began fitting themselves together in my head, “They were once Death Eaters, but they didn’t admit to being followers You-Know-Who when he fell, if he was really back they’re not going to be in good shape. They’re scared of him.”

“SEAMUS? DEAN, SOPHIA?!” the shout of Mrs. Finnigan reached us.

Dean raised his hand and waved behind us, “Here!”

Suddenly I was wrapped into a hug, “Oh thank goodness! I thought I’d lost you three!” she pulled away and clutched her heart, “No worries though, it’s been cleared to go back to camp, a man said everything was fine – I think not!” she gasped, ushering us back toward our tent which luckily remained untouched.

“What happened to the muggles?” I begged, looking around the camp ground, realizing that people were walking to their tents, and a group of Ministry wizards at the edge of the woods were discussing how to get rid of the Dark Mark.

“The Ministry’s got them.” She huffed, pulling us into the tent. “Go to bed. All of you, we’re taking the first portkey out of here.”

~

The next morning we were up before the sun again, and we were the second in line for a portkey home. By the time we landed in the field next to the cottage, the sun was up and a slight chill had settled throughout the land.

“Sophia, you best send you mother an owl. I’m sure she’s read all about last night’s events in the Daily Prophet.” Mrs. Finnigan said, leading the way to the back door.

Dean and Seamus brought up the rear of our tiny party; barely keeping their eyes open long enough to reach their room to fall asleep. As soon as we were inside, the boys disappeared and I sat down at the kitchen table next to Mr. Finnigan who was, as always, reading the paper. Sitting in front of him was the Daily Prophet, sure enough the top headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP! Below an image of the Dark Mark glittered, easily catching anyone’s gaze.

A cup of tea, parchment, a quill and an ink bottle was set before me. I sighed and wrote Mum a note saying I was fine and what happened, then I finished my tea and retired to my room for a well needed afternoon nap after sending Harper home with my letter. My eyes burned as I crawled under the covers, images of yesterday’s events danced through my head.

I wonder what will be said at Hogwarts about the World Cup?