It felt like you two were running for ages, going in an endless circle. People were screaming around you and running towards every directions they could to save themselves, making you dizzy. You looked at Fred who was running still holding your hand. Fred was panting, you could tell he was tired.
"Fred?" You said, waiting for him to stop. He didn't.
"Fred!" You called out again, no response. He didn't stop running.
"Fred, look at me!" You yelled and stopped, making him stop in front of you. He held your hand tighter, as he turned around to look at you. You could see his chest rise and fall with every deep breath he took, the sweat dripping down his forehead. With your free hand, you held his cheek in your hand, wiping off any hairs from his face. "Let's stop for a second. I'm exhausted and I know you are as well." He looked down to the ground, opening his mouth to speak but you stopped him. "Please?" He looked at you before nodding slightly and seating you both down between two tents. It felt like the safest place you could be right now.
He held your hand the entire time, not wanting to let go as if you were about to disappear. His hand was bigger than yours but somehow, your fingers interwinded perfectly. You put your head on his shoulder and he put his on top of yours. Even if it felt like the world was ending, you felt safe and comfort with him. He smelled like fireworks, cinnamon and burning wood, his scent filling your nostrils completely and you felt good. Every now and then he would rub his thumb on the top of your hand, "drawing" small circles on it. You smiled slightly, you were happy.
After for what felt like seconds, the crowd disappeared completely. Everything was silent. The only thing you could see was a big green face of a skeleton, its mouth opening, revealing a snake instead of a tongue. The Dark Mark, You-Know-Who's mark. It dawned you that those people in masks that were following you and everyone else earlier were Death Eaters. You went closer to Fred, slightly afraid, thoughts running over your head. Is everyone okay? Is Harry alright? Was he taken to the Dark Lord? Fred, without thinking, put his arms around you, so now your head was laying on his chest. If Fred wasn't there, you probably would have gotten yourself killed either from a Death Eater or from your thoughts. You sat there for a while, Fred brushing your hair with his fingers -something he always loved to do to you-, and rubbing your back, making you feel safe, making you feel like you're home. The only thing you could hear was yours and Fred's breathing, not the screams of death around you anymore.
You both decided it was time to stand up and look around. You couldn't see anyone when suddenly a figure of a tall, skinny, ginger-haired man. You squinted, trying to see clearer, until you finally realised who it was-Bill. The feeling of relaxation washed over you and all the tension that was built on your shoulders left your body as you watched the red haired come closer to you. You smiled and ran up to him, hugging him tightly, he returned the hug and smiled.
"Bill! Oh Merlin! You don't know how happy I am to see you!" You squeezed him. Bill was probably the only one who acted like a big brother to you. He cared for you like an actual sister and couldn't be more happier to see him.
"It's alright, (Y/n/n). Everything's alright." He looked at Fred, not letting go of you. "Where is everyone?"
Fred shrugged "George is with Ginny, they ran towards the forest. I'm sure they are well. But Harry, Ron and Hermione..." He paused, looking down for a second and back up at his brother. "we don't know. We didn't see them at all."
Bill looked you and sighed. "I'm sure they are fine. Let's go back to the tent, shall we?" He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you took Fred by the hand, not wanting to make him feel alone. Fred squeezed your hand and smiled a bit.
You made your way to the tent and saw everyone there. Your eyes fell immediately to Harry. He looked at you as well and smiled widely - Harry wasn't know to smile that big, he usually was a little awkward, especially around girls. You both ran up to each other and crushed each other into a hug.
"Don't you ever do that again!" You whispered burying your head into his shoulder and with one hand, grabbing his head like a mother would. "Don't you ever run off like this!"
"I didn't do it on purpose, you know. It seems like everything wrong is coming my way." He joked, pulling away and smiling slightly. Harry Potter made a joke? Unbelievable!
"I hate you, Harry Potter." You smiled, pulling away as well. He chuckled. Then went on to hug everyone else so it wouldn't be too awkward. Mr. Weasley decided to call it a night and to wake us up very early to take the port-key back at the Burrow.
-
On the walk back to the Burrow, everyone was talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As you all rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. "Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried -" She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, you saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing
Mr. Weasley and staring around at you all with red eyes, "you're
alive. . . . Oh boys . . ." And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.
"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred...George..."
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back towards the house. Everyone else followed except for Mr. Weasley and Percy who decided to go to the Ministry and have a little "chat" about what the Daily Prophet had written on their newest article.
-
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders." You heard Percy saying but didn't give enough attention to the conversation and turned to the twins again.
Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred, George and you were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. It was about their products and new orders- you decided to help them with any new ideas or names and in exchange, they would let you work in their joke shop, once it opens after you three leave Hogwarts.
"What are you three up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes
on the twins and you.
"Homework." said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday." said Mrs. Weasley.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late." said George.
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re-starting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George, (Y/n) and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?" Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again. Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen. "Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.