Draco Malfoy's face instantly paled. He wanted to say something but couldn't.
He watched his father nod to his mother, then turn and walk away. Goyle's father was waiting not far off; the two met up, rounded a tent, and soon disappeared.
Then, Draco felt a tug on his wrist as Narcissa pulled him quickly towards the forest.
He looked up and saw his mother's face was exceptionally pale, almost glowing white in the darkness, and the hand holding his felt ice-cold.
"Mom…" Draco couldn't help but whisper, "Will… will Dad and them… kill someone?"
Draco wasn't a very brave or ruthless person. When he said "kill someone," he couldn't help but lower his voice even further, a hint of fear in it.
"No, they won't," Narcissa glanced at her son. "They won't take things that far… It's probably just… just a prank…"
Thinking back to how the Death Eaters dealt with Muggles more than ten years ago, Narcissa involuntarily shivered.
Even if they didn't kill, suffering that kind of torment was no better than dying.
But as long as no one was killed, the severity of the situation wasn't as high, and it wouldn't be difficult for the Ministry of Magic to cover it up.
"But you look scared…" Draco said, clutching her cold hand.
"You don't understand… I'm not afraid of what your father is going to do…" Narcissa said.
"Then what is it?" Draco pressed.
But Narcissa pressed her lips together, refusing to speak further, simply pulling Draco forward.
Suddenly, Draco felt his peripheral vision catch a black figure that looked almost like a bear.
He quickly turned his head, only to see a shadow slide past behind a roadside tent. It seemed to be a very large dog.
Draco opened his mouth, wanting to tell his mother about his discovery, when he suddenly saw a Leprechaun land on the clover-covered tent roof, clutching its face and struggling silently, its expression growing more distorted and pained, its body seemingly expanding.
Tonight, there seemed to be quite a few monstrous creatures in the camp.
Draco shivered, not daring to look again, and lowered his head, quickening his pace, only hoping to get as far away from the camp as possible.
Several golden or green specks of light flew straight up into the sky, then burst open. The brilliant light of fireworks scattered through the clouds, and the dark night sky became colorful.
Joyful singing filled the camp, along with a huge bonfire and crowds dancing around it. People celebrated in various ways, and even though many weren't fans of the Ireland team, they couldn't resist joining in.
Draco turned his back on the lights and merriment, following his mother, his feet steadily moving towards the dark forest.
For some reason, the forest seemed exceptionally far tonight… Perhaps when one is nervous, time seems to slow down…
Draco was thinking wistfully when he suddenly heard his mother say alertly, "Something's not right."
"What is it?" Draco asked.
Narcissa crouched down, scooped up a handful of ash, rubbed it between her fingers, then stood up, looking around in astonishment.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked nervously.
"This was forest before… We should already be in the forest…" Narcissa said, her voice trembling.
Draco's breath hitched. He looked at his mother in terror, then at the vast, flat ground around them.
What happened here? Why did this huge stretch of forest disappear?
"Let's go!" Narcissa trembled, pulling her son, and strode towards the surviving forest, her expression so taut it was emotionless, looking almost like an ice sculpture in the darkness.
...
Sirius wagged his tail, following the mother and son for a short distance. Seeing that they were no longer talking, he turned and chased in the direction Lucius Malfoy had gone.
Thanks to that family's so-called noble demeanor and style, Lucius Malfoy had also sprayed himself with perfume. Its unique scent made tracking him not difficult at all.
*CRACK!*
Something dropped onto the Grim's head, startling him.
The Grim leaped up, turned his head, and saw a Leprechaun rolling on the ground. He bared his teeth, paid it no mind, and simply stepped over the small creature.
Irish Leprechauns, like Fairies, are magical creatures of low intelligence and little danger, but they have a more irritable temperament and are not as cute. Sometimes they do things that seem very strange to humans.
Sirius perked his ears, his tail curled upwards, and his nose twitched, sniffing the air around him.
Soon, he saw the person he was looking for, abruptly stopped, and hid to the side.
Seven or eight Wizards seemed to have gathered there. They put on their hoods and masks, silently leaving the crowd and walking towards the edge of the camp.
More and more people gathered, many masked Wizards quietly joining them. They didn't speak to each other at all, but an atmosphere of frenzy and restlessness permeated the air.
They walked all the way to the stone house at the edge of the camp. A flick of a Wand, and the previously locked door opened.
Two Wizards walked in, and after a short while, came out one after another, saying in hushed voices, "The house is empty, the Muggle caretaker is gone!"
Everyone froze. Immediately, two more Wizards went in for a look, then nodded, confirming that the first two hadn't lied.
The Grim grinned, laughing silently.
"What should we do?" someone in the crowd asked naively, "Should we look for other caretakers?"
"What if those Muggles aren't in their houses either?" another person said decisively, "Let's change targets… A Mudblood would work too."
The Grim ground his teeth—even though the voice was deliberately lowered, he could tell it was Lucius speaking.
The group converged as if by unspoken agreement, discussed for a moment in place, then turned and walked towards the camp.
The celebrating crowd was still singing and dancing, but some families with children were getting ready for bed. A couple carrying their child walked towards their tent and saw the oddly dressed wizards huddled together. They immediately felt a pang of fear and quickly ducked into their tent.
"That guy!" someone among the masked wizards shouted, pointing at a passerby. "Bobby Suarez, he's a Mudblood!"
The man whose name was called was a wizard around forty years old. When he heard "Mudblood," he flew into a rage, instantly turning to curse, "F***..."
A dozen Wands appeared before his eyes.
The man was terrified. He turned and ran, then, as if pulled by invisible ropes, he was uncontrollably lifted high into the air.
"Expelliarmus!"
A spell hit Suarez, and his Wand flew out of his hand, disappearing somewhere unknown.
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