Atropos → george weasley

xxxvii. storm and stress

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thirty seven

storm and stress

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Ottilie was overjoyed to see the faces of her friends Ernie and Justin enter her compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Uncharacteristically, she had begun to miss human interaction after the past couple of weeks locked in her room.

They smiled at her when they sat down, and she told them lies about how her summer had not been hell.

"How was the Cup?" she asked, trying to divert attention away from her.

Towards the beginning of the summer, both boys had owled her about joining them for the Quidditch World Cup. But she had to decline.

Both the Macmillans and Finch-Fletchleys were wealthy enough that they were able to buy expensive tickets. 

Even the Weasleys, who she knew were worse off financially than her family, had managed to secure prime tickets due to Mr. Weasley's position in the Ministry.

She'd researched prices and knew that she'd only feel comfortable asking her parents for some of the cheapest tickets. And, aside from being unable to sit with her friends, the least expensive tickets wouldn't have worked because they required her to show up two weeks early, and her dad wouldn't have let her skip her grandparents' visit.

After Ottilie asked, the boys gave each other uneasy looks.

"What? Was it boring?" she asked. "Or was it a disaster?"

"More of a disaster," said Ernie.

"Not the actual game," added Justin. "The game was amazing. I've never, ever seen Quidditch players fly like that. They were incredible. You would have loved it, Ottilie!

"Ireland won!" Ernie beamed.

"But, the Bulgarian Seeker, Krum, caught the Snitch," said Justin.

"Well, that's stupid. Can the poor guy not do simple maths?"

Justin's eyes were alight, having not registered what Ottilie said. "Krum is incredible. He's one of the best Seekers in the world, but he's really young. Youngest person on either team by far."

"Wow," said Ottilie. "So, the disaster?"

The boys' faces looked grave again, and Ernie fished something out of his pocket. "I brought this in case you didn't know already." He held out a folded page from a Daily Prophet.

Frowning, Ottilie took it with a crooked eyebrow and then unfolded it. The title read SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP. Above it was a black-and-white photograph of a figure floating in a darkened sky above treetops. It was of a skull that seemed to be made out of twinkling diamonds. A snake was writhing out of its mouth like a tongue.

"Is that—?" Ottilie started breathlessly.

"The Dark Mark? Yes," said Ernie, who was looking very worried. "So, you know what it is?"

"Yeah," Ottilie said. The Dark Mark was Voldemort's symbol—the mark of a Death Eater. During the First Wizarding War, it was used by Death Eaters to signify they'd killed someone.

"Former Death Eaters were at the Cup," said Ernie, his voice low and heavy. It matched the weather. Since yesterday, torrential rain had been tormenting the earth. The skies were so dark that Ottilie reckoned they'd have to turn the lanterns on by noon. As Ernie paused, the sound of huge, icy rain droplets took over the dead air.