UNLEASH | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 6)

[ 06 ]

It felt like Quidditch all over again; soaring to the vast skies, players zooming past at such deadly speed, dangers lurking at every angle for both teams, trying to find the one thing that will end the game and if you're not careful, you'll be pushed down and off your spot in the field by the threats. Except for this time, Aine was not a spectator watching from the sidelines... 

She was a player.

Deadly vibrant coloured sparks shot out from every corner of the skies, like lightning crashing down from the thick clouds with the intention to hurt and kill. The once peaceful night sky turned wild and the heavens became a battlefield. Instead of a simple game of Quidditch where one must find the Golden Snitch, Aine and the Deatheaters need to find Harry Potter and catch him before he escapes— The real Harry amongst the other imposters who had apparently taken a Polyjuice Potion to become him.

Who would have imagined that Aine would live to see the day when her former friend would be cloned into seven? However, as much as it annoyed Aine since now it had indeed become a game of 'spotting the real Harry', it also meant that this mission would definitely be delayed and she would definitely be back in the arms of her dear family later.

However, no one was more furious than the Dark Lord, himself. His sole nemesis had not just multiplied into seven others, but he now needed to search out which was the real one.

Just like the members of the Order and their Harrys, most of the soldiers of Voldemort's army also rode on brooms and Thestrals— Skeletal magical creatures that looked like a mixture of a bat and a horse with strong bat-like wings and eyes that swirled of nothing but whiteness. While many others depend only on mounts to manoeuvre around, Aine, Bellatrix, Cal, Snape, Voldemort and a couple of others do not. They managed to levitate in the skies using their own magic, apparating around in the air. They swooped in and out of the mist, dodging and throwing curses, and hexes at the members of the Order and the many Harrys that turned up.

"WHICH ONE IS IT?!" the Deatheaters began screaming their heads off, circling around the stars of the night as they tried to find the actual Harry.

"WHERE ARE YOU, HARRY POTTER?"

"COME OUT, BABY POTTER! COME ON AND SHOW YOURSELF!"

"LET'S PLAY, HARRY POTTER!"

"POTTER~"

Everything was in a complete mess as if a tornado had swooped in on everyone, dragging all players on sight in the game. There were almost twice the amount of players in regular Quidditch games and although the Dark Lord's side had more in numbers, the Order was doing relatively well at keeping their positions. In fact, they were doing better than Aine expected, possibly it was because there were a lot of unhinged players on her side that it became messy and uncontrollable.

Many of the Deatheaters were more fixed on wreaking havoc instead of finding Harry Potter and stopping him after all. Only a handful of Voldemort's people had stuck to the mission, doing their best to fulfil the wishes of their one true master steadfastly.

'Find him and bring him to me, daughter...' Voldemort's voice rang into Aine's ears in the middle of her apparition. From the corner of her sight through the gaps in her mask, she spotted the Dark Lord in a cloud of smoke, grinning through his ire.

Aine did not reply to him through her mind, she could only scoff to herself. As if it were that easy... 

Just trying to find the real Harry among the other six identical-looking Harrys was challenging enough, one moment they were there and the next, they weren't. Perhaps it was both a curse and blessing to have so many Deatheaters joining in the mission that night. More than half of them couldn't keep to the mission of finding the real Harry and were recklessly firing bolts left and right without much care. They just wanted the thrill of killing, the joy of watching a spark hit a body. Let alone nearing them with their guardians fiercely protecting them...