[Editing] Expecto Patronum: Harry Potter One-shots

18 - Escapee [ Barty Crouch Junior x Reader] Part II

"All right, children!" Arthur corralled us back into the "living room area" of the tent, his eyes fleeting past every individual as if doing an impromptu headcount, "Now, I expect each and every one of you to behave while we're at the tournament grounds. That means: no hexing, spellcasting, jinxing or otherwise messing with the natural order of things unless necessity grabs you. Am I understood?" 

I nodded obediently, my eyebrows furrowing with amusement. These words were clearly fed there by the purpose of Mrs Weasley since Mr Weasley had not an ounce of stoic authority in his body. I bit the inside of my cheek and focused on the annoying pinch-pain to restrain myself from laughing. I could just imagine Arthur being given a major pep talk to warrant such behaviour. 

"...wasn't supposed to allow you," Arthur had continued speaking, "but, since the match only starts later and the stadium only opens at six o'clock, I've decided that you can get to explore by yourselves for a while." 

My heart soared. Solitude! My dear friend! 

I couldn't stop smiling from ear-to-ear after those words. Giving us a further precautionary speech, that I didn't quite catch the gist of, he ushered us into a makeshift line and plopped little bronze pieces of wizard money into our palms. I palmed the twenty-three knuts and wondered what I would use it on. With this token, I promised myself to start paying attention to the Weasleys more often - respecting them and the like. 

"The most important rule: don't be separated from the group," Arthur said seriously. 

"Of course," We chorused, "We'll follow the rules." 

I knew it was a lie. 

- - - 

The weather was at odds with itself: the sky sneezed wisps of cloud across the skies, Quidditch enthusiasts doing elaborate tricks that made my heart pound with anxiety just to observe. Though the lines were long and undeniably tedious in which to wait, I occupied my few hours of free time by standing in a line for a coffee vendor. Their set-up was crude but the overflowing money box showed that they were clearly making a killing. I spent most of the time staring at the chalkboards and pretending to read the chalked specials, while I mainly tried to avoid the attention of a few Slytherins from school. I wasn't very popular, but I was surely infamous. 

The vendor was a portly wizard with bushy eyebrows and a milk-stain moustache fuzzing around his lips. He seemed a very shrewd man as he intently stared at me as I took my order, offering me a friendly smile as he took my money. In his position, I would have also smiled at me - he must've thought me an absolute sucker for the price he was charging for things. Despite being the most prestigious and coveted event of the season, the World Cup didn't offer much in terms of sightseeing. The stadium itself would be locked and bolted until the match started at six o'clock tonight and the energetic crowds of people did nothing for my morale, so I decided that I would seek out the quieter aspects of the tournament and go for a stroll by myself. 

The forest was lovely, dark and deep. Though the sounds of the crowded area still carried through much of the distance into the forest, the fearful cacophony was gradually muffled until I could no longer hear the discordant notes and screeches of the frothing-at-the-mouth fans. I found a nook hidden in the roots of a tree and settled there - though it did not offer much in terms of comfort and could have done with a little sprucing up, it calmed me considerably as I rested my head against the trunk of the tree and sighed. There was something about solitude that soothed me. Loneliness was never something that I particularly craved, but it suited my needs far better than the discomfort of crowds. Tracing the path of the plumes of steam wafting from my styrofoam cup with my fingers, languishing in the way the steam curled like fingers, I sipped my tea.