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"I'll have you know, Black, that…" And like that, everything went to hell. First it was a loud sound, as if an explosion had been set off at the campsite. Then it was screaming and the sound of people screaming and running. More explosions. The easygoing atmosphere in the tent evaporated in the blink of an eye as wands were drawn. Sirius and James exchanged a look and walked out the tent, their auror training kicking in. Severus and Remus were after them in a second, followed by Arthur and his two eldest sons. Lily and Molly moved in front of the teens protectively; Harry would have never thought that Molly Weasley could look dangerous, but there you had it.
"Stay." Severus ordered over his shoulder as the remaining members of their group nodded at the clear command in his voice. Harry held onto his wand tighter. This couldn't be good. Not good at all. The panicked noises seemed to be multiplying. Was one small respite so much to ask? Harry thought, his eyes closing as he sighed. He could feel a hand falling on his shoulder in a comforting manner and opened his eyes. Neville was standing by his side, wand in hand and a decisive look in his eyes. He was ready to stand by him no matter what. Harry nodded and turned to look at the entrance of the tent, preparing himself for the worst. What was going on?
"What's happening?" Hermione asked, looking pale, her voice trembling.
"I'm not sure." Lily said. "Whatever happens, try not to panic. And you have permission to use your wands." Suddenly, Mr. Weasley entered the tent, his eyes wide and frantic, his demeanour dark.
"Grab your jackets and run! Out now!" He exclaimed as everyone bust into motion.
"Why? Dad, what's happening?" Ron asked as he hastily put on his jacket.
"No time for that now!" Arthur exclaimed. "Keep your wands at hand and run! We're moving towards the forest! Quickly!" James stepped in the tent to speed up the process.
"Move, now!" He turned towards Lily. "Lily take Adrian and run towards the woods!"
"Why?" Lily asked even as she grabbed her eldest and protesting son and walked towards the exit of the tent.
"Death Eaters." James stated and fled the tent. Everybody walked out in a panicked silence. Death Eaters. Voldemort's followers; Harry's brain was trying to catch up with what he had heard, finding it impossible. Death Eaters. How was that even possible? He followed Fred out the tent and looked around. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, leeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. Someone had cast the killing curse. And then Harry saw them.
A pack of wizards, twenty, maybe more, walked towards the fleeing crowds, casting any curse they could think of towards every direction. Children were running and screaming, asking for their parents, parents were running around panicked, searching for their children amongst collapsed tents. An old lady stumbled and fell at her mad dash towards the woods, only to be picked up by a woman passing by, both of them stumbling away from the laughing Death Eaters. And there, in the middle of the campsite, suspended mid-air by invisible wires, like a terrible facsimile of marionettes, were four struggling figures. Two of them were very small, Harry noted, his mind numb. Like children. And they screamed, in fear and in pain, as they floated defenceless, at the mercy of their hooded tormentors.
"Mr. Roberts?" Neville muttered. Mr. Roberts? Wasn't that the name of the Muggle who owned the campsite? So that was his family? His children?
"Harry?" Severus's voice sounded from his left. "We have to move." More Death Eaters appeared, trumping on tents and spreading terror as they went. Mrs. Roberts was turned upside down. One of her children started spinning fast, sixty feet from the ground.
"Merlin help us." Neville muttered.
"That's sick!" Ron said gasping from somewhere behind them. Harry could hear his mother urging Adrian away, James rushing forward to join the few wizards and witches that had managed to keep their wits and had started forming some sort of a resistance against the black clad wizards. And the children kept screaming, the people kept running, the Death Eaters kept laughing.
"Harry?" Severus asked tentatively. He had probably seen the signs before Harry himself felt them but felt them now he did. He was trembling and his blood was burning, rushing to his brain as the grotesque scene unfolded in front of him. Terror. Panic. This was what war looked like. This was what Voldemort would bring with him and worse. Fear. Pain. And Harry looked on, his fingers clenching painfully around his wand, nails breaking skin and drawing blood. Desperation. Horror. This was what the future would look like. The children screamed on.
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 300 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
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