Salazar, I was fucked.
I woke up the next day with the most daunting of realizations. Something that I should have foreseen. Something that made too much sense and that, really, explained everything. Something that was terribly terrifying to admit.
I fancied James.
There was nothing revolting about James. No, on the contratry, everything about him was great. But... me fancying someone was... disgusting.
I always thought that I'd be excused from having to deal with romantic feelings and emotions, but apparently, I had fallen victim to it this whole time.
This whole time, I fancied him.
And I was such an idiot that I didn't even realize that that was what it was.
I thought I was just a nervous person. I thought I was just intimidated by the fact that he was two years above me.
But I fancied him. Outrageous. Dreadful. Appalling.
I was already anxious enough when I didn't realize I fancied him, but now that I knew, there was no way I could possibly stand in the same room as him... Or hangout with him one-on-one.
I did not return to the shop this week, despite still being grounded. I was very adamant about staying home, and surprisingly, my parents allowed me. My father must have told my mother about what happened in the backstore because it was very odd of her not to insist that I go. She wasn't even upset with me for running away in the middle of a thunderstorm.
I hated that my father was right there when it happened. I hated that I didn't even know what to say. I kept telling myself that I wouldn't have ran away if my father wasn't there, but I wasn't so sure anymore.
James owled me about a group meet-up, but I said I got ill and couldn't go. Obviously that was a lie, but I wasn't ready to face James after what had just went down in my parents shop.
I saw Daphne and Tracey a few times throughout the month, but I avoided the topic of James, or any other S4, like the plague. And by the time the month of August rolled around, James had stopped owling me to hang out.
Maybe I was a terrible person.
And when it was time for the quidditch world cup, I was lucky enough to get good tickets thanks to the Malfoys.
Well, the truth was, they got tickets in the same box as the Minister, and Draco was allowed to invite one person. And for some unknown reason, he picked me. Maybe he just wanted to torment me.
Even though I wasn't that crazy about quidditch, I did feel very fortunate for the opportunity, so I accepted, and before I knew it, we were already at the campsite for the Quidditch world cup. Apparently, it had been thirty years since England hosted, and it took months and months of preperations. Tickets were also hard to come by, and wizards from all over the world were attending.
When it was time to go, Lucius guided Draco, Narcissa, and I to the Minister's box. My parents also got tickets, along with Aiden, just not with the Minister.
Our seats were at the very top. We had to climb all the way up the purple-carpeted stairs.
My eyes bulged out of my eye sockets when I saw who was up there. Harry... Ron... Hermione... And all the other Weasleys.
"Ah, Fudge," said Lucius Malfoy. He held out his hand when he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco? And this is Draco's friend, Maeve."
"How do you do, how do you do?" said Cornelius Fudge, smiling and bowing to Narcissa. Of course, Draco and I, the two "children" weren't given any particular attention. Not by the Minister, at least. The Weasleys, along with Hermione and Harry were staring at us wide-eyed. I could feel Malfoy's smirk radiating next to me. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
Of course, they did. We could practically feel the animosity burning between them. Clearly, the two had bad history.
"Good lord, Arthur," Lucius said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
My jaw dropped. This was far from funny, but Draco was snickering next to me.
Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
"How — how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile. I would also struggle to smile if Lucius had just insulted me like that.
No other words were exchanged before both parties went their separate ways.
Draco shot Harry, Ron, and Hermione a contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and me on the seats. I tried to give the Gryffindors an apologetic look, but they just glared back at me.
Great. Now I had lost all of my Gryffindor friends. I knew the Malfoys weren't the kindest of folks, but come on, who would turn down a good quidditch seat like this one? My family was settled down much further down to watch the same match. The view here was the best, and we were next to the Minister of Magic, for Merlin's sake.
"Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
Flags waved, spectators cheered and clapped, and the black board sign changed to indicate: BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
Mr. Ludo Bagman, the announcer, introduced the Bulgarian national team mascot. They were veela!
Hundreds were now gliding out into the field. They were women, very beautiful women, except that they weren't exactly human. Their skin shone moon-bright, and their white-gold hair fanned out behind them without any wind.
The music started and I suddenly found myself not worrying about anything at all. The veela danced, and my mind just went blissfully blank. I couldn't keep my eyes off the veela. I didn't want this moment to end. They just kept dancing faster and faster.
Then, the music stopped and I blinked, assessing my surroundings. Draco was standing up, and I was at the edge of my seat, about to stand up with him. Narcissa was holding down Lucius in his seat.
Damnit. I thought veela only affected men.
I didn't dwell on that fact for too long, however, as now was the time for the Irish team's national mascot. A comet shot into the sky and blew up into rainbow fireworks. Then, there were leprechauns soaring through the sky. They showered the stands with gold before settling themselves to the side with the mascots from the other team.
Ludo Bagman then called the players for each team (Krum had particularly more cheering, which I totally understood why). And before we knew it, everyone was wrapped into the match, cheering and chanting, enjoying the mesmerizing displays of skill and talent of the famous quidditch players.
When the match was over, with a spectatular win from Ireland, we all trailed down the purple-carpeted stands and made our way back to our tents. I would have joined my parents in their tent, but there were so many people walking from the stands to the tent area that I feared I would get lost, so I stuck with the Malfoys.
Their tent was white and magnificient. Most other tents were inconspicuous, but the Malfoys didn't care for modesty. They even had a magical balcony on top, and two white peacocks were strutting by the entrance.
The inside was even more magnificent and larger than the outside. It looked similar to the inside of the Malfoy Manour with a drawing room, magnanimous chandeliers, multiple bedrooms, and just general opulence.
Soon, Lucius Malfoy's old friends, which included Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle's parents, and a few others I did not recognize, had arrived at the tent to celebrate. While the adults were drinking and reminiscing the past together in the drawing room, the rest of us (the teenagers), lazed around in the living room, waiting for something interesting to happen.
"Draco?" Narcissa said, suddenly entering the living room. She motioned for him to approach her, and he did. She whispered something to him and he nodded.
Then, he turned to me and said, "We're going, Maeve."
"Sorry?"
"Get up. Let's go," he said, waving at me to come up.
I gingerly got up, only because I didn't really understand what was going on.
"Crabbe, Goyle, you're coming too," Draco finally decided last minute when we were about to exit. Nott didn't even seem to care that he was being excluded.
"Can't go anywhere without your bodyguards, huh?" I said.
"They'll make good scapegoats, should things go south," Malfoy said simply, as if that weren't cruel at all.
"And why would things go south exactly?" I asked warily as we exited the tent with Crabbe and Goyle behind us.
"No reason," he said airily as he guided us outside.
People were celebrating everywhere. We could already smell the alcohol anywhere we went. People were entering tents, exiting tents, chanting and singing, and just generally being very rambunctious.
"Let's go in the forest," Malfoy said. I wasn't against that idea. It was too chaotic at the campsite for me anyway.
We slipped into the woods nearby, Crabbe and Goyle tailing behind us. We marched aimlessly through the woods, Malfoy occasionally looking over his shoulder as if to get another good look at the campsite.
"Why do you keep looking behind you?" I asked him after he had done it five times.
"MAEVE!"
Malfoy and I both jumped in our shoes as Wyatt Nye stormed over to us. Behind him were James, Elijah, and Isaiah. I tried not to look at James because I knew I would panic if I did. Not after that realization of mine.
"Haven't seen you in ages!" Wyatt went on. "Why have you been ignoring us this summer?"
"You've been ignoring them? That's interesting..." Draco said softly next to me.
I elbowed Malfoy and said, "I haven't been ignoring you guys. I have just been busy, you know? And erm... ill."
"Ill? Since when—"
I elbowed Malfoy again, and this time, he grunted.
"Stop doing that, will you?" he said. I gave him a "then, stop talking" look, and he rolled his eyes at me.
"What's that all about?" Wyatt asked, an eyebrow raised at us.
I quickly shook my head and said "Nothing!"
I dared one glance over at the rest of the S4 behind Wyatt. They were mostly talking amongst themselves, but James was particularly quiet.
Wyatt looked behind him.
"Oi, come over here, you three," Wyatt called. They all suddenly looked over at us.
Merlin, they were coming over. I wasn't ready.
"Hey, Maeve. You feeling better, now?" Isaiah asked me.
"Uh-huh," I hummed positively at him. "I'm well. I've just been busy with erm, my potion plans, and all, now."
Malfoy snorted next to me, and I gave him another look that said "shut up."
"Still brewing that Felix Felicis?" Wyatt asked, almost hopeful.
"Oh, yeah, I've just been busying myself with packing the right ingredients for this school year." That wasn't technically a lie because I was doing that. The lie, however, was the implication that that was taking a lot of my time.
"Don't get your hopes up, Wyatt. It's not for you," Elijah reminded Wyatt who looking an awful lot interested in what I was saying.
"How's Penny?" James said all of a sudden. I tried not to make it obvious that him speaking to me made me panic.
"She's well-adjusted. You'll see her at Hogwarts," I managed to say, despite the ball forming in my throat.
James nodded but didn't say anything else, which was odd because we usually never ran out of things to say to each other.
"Who's Penny?" Malfoy asked next to me, his nose scrunched in confusion.
"My new cat," I told him.
"Since when?"
"Since recently," I said. Malfoy hadn't come to my house in years, so it made sense that he hadn't met her yet.
"Isn't that the cat you and James found?" Isaiah asked. I nodded.
So, James had told them about Penny. What else did they know?
"Well, we have to go, now," I said rather awkwardly and abruptly. "Our parents should be looking for us, now." I squeezed Malfoy's arm before he could say anything that would contradict me.
"Right," Malfoy said through his teeth.
After a brief goodbye, our two groups went our separate ways. The moment they were out of earshot, Malfoy pulled my arm and said, "What the bloody Hell was that about?"
"What?" I said innocently.
"You — you're avoiding them, now? I thought you and Lancaster were—"
"Shut up, Malfoy. That's not true."
His eyes flickered with surprise, but he didn't say anything just yet. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
"What?" I said.
"Did something happen between you and Lancaster?"
"What? No. Of course, not."
"Did you confess your love to him, and he rejected you?" he said, already amused with the prospect of that.
I shoved Malfoy's hand off me and groaned. "No."
"Then, what in Salazar's name is going on?"
"I — I don't know — I don't want to talk about this with you, Malfoy."
I shouldered past him as I decided to just make my way back to camp.
"Is it related to what happened with Astarion Lancaster?" he persisted, following me. His goons were close behind us as well. I didn't like that they could hear everything.
"No," I said, determined not to tell Malfoy anything.
"Or that cat you spoke of?"
"No!" I said once again, this time, spinning around to give Malfoy an expression of exasperation. "Stop asking me a million questions."
"Why are you being so mysterious about everything, then?" he asked.
"I'm not," I insisted. "I just don't want to talk to you about it."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneered.
"Now, I'm going to go look for my family. I'll be sleeping in their tent, tonight," I declared. Malfoy looked like he was about to follow me, so I added, "Don't follow me. I'll be fine."
Thankfully, unlike that time he found me at Diagon Alley, Malfoy listened and didn't follow me. I managed to get to the campsite without him tailing after me.
But before I could even begin to look for my parents' tent, screams filled the air, and so did the sounds of people running. The singing ceased and the joy was gone.
Something terrible was happening.
People were running away from something, pushing past me to get to the forest. They were running away from something that was emitting green flashes of light, loud jeering laughter, and drunken yells.
That's when I noticed from afar were dark figures with skull-like masks and pointy hoods on. Above them, four people... being levitated, being puppeteered, being played with like toys.
They were the muggles that rented out this campsite to us! The woman muggle was being levitated upside down so we could see her knickers. More wizards were joining the hooded group, laughing and pointing up at the floating muggles.
One of the wizards that joined blasted a tent out of his way. People screamed. Fire spread. More people pushed past me to get into the woods.
I stood by a tent, immobile. I was so terrified that I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do.
A man grabbed my arm and pulled me away into the forest, saying something about a portkey. The person kind of sounded like my father.
Oh. It was my father.
Aiden and my mother were there too. They had found me before I could go looking for them. I was a bit dazed as they dragged me through the forest, at a loss for words, horrified by what was being done to the muggles.
"We have to help them," I managed to say after a short while.
"No, Maeve. They're dangerous. Better save ourselves first—" Aiden was saying.
"But if we don't do anything, who will?"
"Darling, there are aurors for that. It's their jobs," my mother said, not sounding that bothered that there were muggles being tortured as we spoke. My father didn't comment, but I could see in his eyes that he was uncomfortable with the situation.
We returned home rather quickly after that, and when we received the Daily Prophet the very next morning, the front cover shocked even my mother.
After we left the campsite, someone had cast the dark mark in the sky. The mark of the Dark Lord. My father said it had been thirteen years since one of those had been seen, not since Lord Voldemort's downfall at the Potter's home when Harry was a baby.
It seemed that You-Know-Who's old followers, the ones who hadn't been caught, drank too much last night and reverted back to their old habits.
"It's more than just that, I reckon," Aiden said to me that evening when the two of us were sitting by the fireplace, discussing what had happened. "I think this is a sign. A sign that something terrible is to come. Voldemort's old followers are still out there, looking for him."
"Do you think that he will... return?" I said, hesitantly.
"I don't know. I mean, who knows what really happened that night thirteen years ago at the Potters' residence. Maybe he never really left."
This was one of those moments where I wasn't sure if Aiden was just trying to scare me, or if he genuinely believed what he was saying, or both. But what he was saying did seem to make sense. I just hoped he was wrong about it all.
"I just don't understand how people can be so cruel, casting those spells against the muggles," I said, pouting a little because I really was horrified by that fact.
"I don't understand how you're so surprised. You've met wizards like that. You've met the Malfoys. You and I both know that Lucius Malfoy was one of those hooded figures. I mean, how could he not be? You know how prejudiced he is against muggles."
"Now that you mention it, Mr. Malfoy was drinking with his old friends. And then, Narcissa asked Draco to bring me out of the tent."
"She knew what they were planning on doing and didn't want to expose you to it," Aiden said thoughtfully. "And let me guess, they were Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Yes. And other wizards I don't know the names of. And Nott," I added, referring to my classmates' fathers.
"All ex-death eaters," Aiden pointed out. "It's so obvious that they're behind these attacks. Trouble is, there isn't any conclusive proof. You know, they all claimed to have been put under the Imperius curse to do Voldemort's bidding, thirteen years ago. Load of bollocks."
It was nice to have conversations like these with Aiden. It was nice to be reminded that he wasn't a complete arse.
I didn't know how I felt about knowing that the Malfoys were involved in shady stuff and that I would still have to be around them because of my mother.
I wondered if she knew.
My mother was a little prejudiced sometimes, but at the same time, she was never as vocal as the Malfoys, nor as vocal about it as her parents. But all the same, she must have known something. She had been friends with Narcissa since Hogwarts — not to mention that she used to sell cursed objects at Beauxbatons...
Okay, maybe my mother wasn't exactly a Saint. But if she knew that the Malfoys were connected in any way to the Dark Lord, she would never stay loyal to them, right?