𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 60 - Morsmordre

"That's sick," Ron muttered as he, Harry and Arthur joined the girls. They were all watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick —"

Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Sirius emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

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

"No!" Betelgeuse roared, stretching her right arm towards Sirius. Her uncle turned swiftly and grasped her shoulders tightly.

"Betelgeuse," he called out, his voice had gained a steadfast and solemn tone that the girl had never heard before. "Stay focused. Look after them and use your wandless magic if you must. Understood, dearest?"

Betelgeuse nodded as she regarded Bill, Charlie, and Percy sprint away toward the oncoming marchers; Sirius and Arthur 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," Fred urged, grabbing Ginny's hand. He turned around, and pressing Betelgeuse to his side, he started to pull them toward the woods. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed.

They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards attempting to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The glowing lanterns that had illuminated the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were wailing; anxious shouts and panicked voices were echoing around them in the cold evening air. Betelgeuse felt herself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces she could not perceive.

She felt Fred tighten his hold on her waist, practically lifting her from her feet as George pressed himself to her back.

"Bel," Ginny feebly called, extending her hand towards the Black.

Betelgeuse looked down at the shorter girl and opened her arms for her.

She met the horror-struck eyes of Fred, recognising what they were staring at. They were not naive. The pair knew who those wizards were. What they were.

Death Eaters.

The grey-eyed witch turned her head to look back at the campsite. She thought about her kin. Her cousin would be safe; he was a Pureblood. Most likely, his father was among the tormentors of those poor Muggleborns. Her uncle, on the other hand —

Sirius. Be safe. We cannot lose you too.

As if the mere thought of her uncle had summoned his presence, Betelgeuse recognised his tall and elegant figure battle against three hooded figures, alone.

Betelgeuse knew that he was a skilled duellist; she had witnessed first-hand his ruthlessness while he practised back at Grimmauld Place with her father. But he was still one against three.

Before she could even comprehend her own actions, Betelgeuse had disentangled from Ginny and Fred and sprinted towards the other Black. She ran with nimble steps, dodging curses and hexes sent towards her. She stopped beside her uncle, turning her back to him and facing one of the three Death Eaters.