The Potion Princess

Finally Leaving the World Cup

When she wakes up the next morning, Charlie is looming over her.

The image bears such a similarity from the night before that she scrambles backward, crying out and pointing a wand at him before her mind catches up with what she is seeing. Charlie has her by the wrists now, pointing her wand at the ground and talking in soft, soothing tones, saying it's okay, it's over and she does not have the words to tell him that nothing is okay at all. Audra thinks that the look on his face must be very similiar to the one he wears when looking at wounded animals, and she is suddenly very glad that Charlie was the one to find her; if he can tame dragons, he can calm her.

"Just hang on, hang on, everything's going to be okay, keep still now, you're hurt." The murmur keeps going, and even if she is not paying attention to the words, Audra finds the sound soothing. Somehow she ended up being huddled against him, crying into his chest, hands gathering up fistfuls of her shirt. Audra just now realizes how cold she is, and how much pain was radiating from the back of her head. She remembers the blood, and looks down to see that her hand is covered in it, and so is the ground. "Dad."

Charlie's voice, flat and grim, cut through the small group of wizards combing over the campsite. It was all Weasley's, Bill and Charlie and Percy and Arthur, wands out and a little dishevelled, but okay. If they were here, that means everyone else was fine, too. Her chest loosens a little, and it's suddenly easier for her to breathe.

"Merlin, Audra, what happened to you?" Arthur was at her side now, lowering her back to the ground. She wasn't even aware that she had stood up. "Where are you hurt?"

"Head." It's a mumble, but he seems to know what to do without any help from her. She can feel a hand probing at her wound, and then a wand tappping it. The pain alleviates some, but the bleeding starts up again. She cannot decide if it was an improvement. "There was a little girl. Needed help. Told Em and Clary to run, girl got away, I..," She stared up at Mr. Weasley, became momentarily distracted by the sun glinting off of his glasses, then got back on track, "I didn't."

Overall it was a pretty lame description of what had happened last night, the terror and the empty spaces in the masks where eyes should have been and the name of the masked man she should have known, whose identity was still at the tip of her tongue but could not find. "Are you alright?" There was a hand underneath her chin, forcing her to look up. All four men were circled around her now, probably deciding what to do. "Did they hurt you?"

"Just threw me to the ground. Didn't want to hurt the girl who's practically Bella reincarnated." There was an uncomfortable flinch that went around the circle at the mention of her aunt, who was almost as terrifying at You-Know-Who. A giggle forced its way out of her throat, a wild sound that turned quickly into a sob.

"Alright, alright, it's okay. The rest are at the tent, Percy will take you back there, won't you Percy? I'll be back as soon as I can." Audra thinks that she nods, but isn't sure. What she does know is that Percy is looping an arm around her waist, pulling her to her feet, and helps her stumble towards the direction of their campsite.

"Almost there, Audra." He muttered. Percy was bearing most of her weight now, wand held out in front of them, just in case. His expression was grim, but the arm around her waist was reassuring, as were the off hand comments he had thrown out on the slow walk over. For the first time, Audra thinks that he's truly made of the same stuff his brothers are, and realizes this is a boy who will go as far up in the ministry as he intends to. "Here we are."

At first, their arrival was met with a stunned silence. Clary's crying cut off with a sharp gasp, and George paused with a bottle of his dad's firewhiskey halfway to his mouth. Hermione was the first to move, grabbing her under the other arm and ushering her towards a chair. Clary was next, kneeling down in front of her, and then Fred and George appeared at her side. Only Harry and Ron remained sitting, staring at the group of them with thunderstruck expressions.