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ღchapter twenty eight ( death eater havoc )
"DON'T TELL YOUR mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
"Don't worry, Dad," Fred exclaimed gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."
Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.
They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns.
When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed.
Hermione, Ginny, and Jules made their way over to their own tent, changing into their pajamas, scrubbing their faces clean, brushing their teeth, and clambering into the one bedroom.
From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.
Jules, who was on a top bunk above Hermione, Ginny taking the bottom bunk of the opposing bed, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Moran's more spectacular moves.
She doesn't exactly know when she fell asleep, but she stirred at loud screaming; Mr. Weasley was shouting. "Get up! Girls- Ginny, Hermione, Juliet, come on now, get up, this is urgent!"
Jules sat up quickly and the top of her head hit canvas. "What happened?" she asked, rubbing her head. Dimly, she could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed; the singing had stopped, she could hear screams, and the sound of people running.
She slipped down from the bunk and reached for her clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, girls- just grab a jacket and get outside- quickly!"
Jules did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Ginny and Hermione at her heels. She'd tugged a pair of trousers on and her leather jacket, to make the silk nightgown she was wearing look less vulgar.
