Harry Potter: Alex Fletcher: the fighter, champion and hope.

The fire and sea of black

-Alex's Perspective-

The Irish won in the end. A strong victory.

Because even though Krum caught the snitch, which normally wins you the game, the Irish had out ruled it with the mass amount of points they gained from normal scoring.

Fred and George where happy about that. Teasing Ron the whole way back to the tent.

I sat with Ginny and Hermione laughing at the two twins in front of us that where now performing an Irish jig, with the flag wrapped around them, making the music up themselves by pretending to blow on fiddles.

I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. But I couldn't help but notice the screams outside. They seemed to be screams that didn't match to the game.

Mr Weasley had the same idea, he went out to investigate.
I tried to put my thoughts at ease but couldn't. My right arm began to sting as if fire and knifes where slicing and burning it.

I put my hand over it, seizing up almost and taking a sharp intake of breath. Wincing as the pain was only at one point if my body, and by God did it hurt.  

I ignored the boys teasing of Ron as he seemed to be in love with Krum, the Bulgarian seeker.

"Victor I love you!" The twins sung "Victor I do!"

The pain began spreading like a searing heat all down the inside of my arm. I had the pain before nightmares. But even in the darkest times it had never pained this much.

"When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" The rest of them chorused after.

A scream and loud crash sounded out and shook the whole tent. They where all laughing at the sing along they had started.

"Sounds like the Irish have got there pride on." Laughed George.

"It's not the Irish." I whispered mostly to myself because I didn't feel brave enough to say it out loud.
But Hermione heard me and looked at me confused and slightly concerned as she took in my state.

A thin layer of sweat across my forehead, a trembling right arm held tightly by the left.
Her mouth opened to say something but instantly was cut off as Mr Weasley burst through the tent door.

"Stop, stop it!" He cried running at Fred who was hitting Ron with a pillow. "It's not the Irish." He held George's arm in his grip, his tone the one he used when he had explained the Malfoys to me. He walked past everyone to Ginny, holding her arm tightly. Everyone's face confused.
"We've got to get out of here. Now!" He barked

And with that everyone leapt up from their seat Hermione watched me with a face that was concerned but also sort of scared.

We made a scramble to the door and everyone realised why we needed to leave immediately.

Peoples screams ones that the others mistook for joy and partying were screams of terror and pain, the loud crashes and bangs, that in there minds where fire works and drunk hooligans, were fire balls of destruction.

Screams between families looking for each other as people dived across walk ways and paths. I saw Ron's eyes enlarge as he noticed what was happening.