Immediately after Bill and Charlie had finished greeting Harry and I, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than I had ever seen him. 

"That WASN'T FUNNY, Fred!" He shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything." Fred said, with another evil grin. "I just DROPPED it ... it was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr Weasley roared. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -"

I sniggered at the memory of Dudley's parents forcing him to take a diet after the nurse from his school telling them he was overweight.

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

We all roared with laughter again.

"It ISN'T FUNNY!" Mr Weasley shouted. "That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons -"

"We didn't give it to him because he was a Muggle!" Fred said indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a git and he stole Softpaw's charger!" George said. "Didn't he, Softpaw?"

"Aye, he actually did." I said. 

"That's not the point!" Mr Weasley raged. "You wait until I tell your mother -"

"Tell me what?" A voice said behind us.

Mrs Weasley had just joined the server. 

"Oh, hello, Daisy and Harry dears." She said, spotting us and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me WHAT, Arthur?" 

Mr Weasley hesitated. I could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then Hermione and Ginny appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs Weasley. Harry grinned at Ginny, which made her go scarlet. I tried not to giggle - I really did.

"Tell me WHAT, Arthur?" Mrs Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly." Mr Weasley mumbled. "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -"

"What have they done this time?" Mrs Weasley said. "If it's got anything to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes -"

"Why don't you show the twins where they're sleeping, Ron?" Hermione said from the doorway.

"They know where they're sleeping." Ron said. "Harry's in my room, Daisy in the twins' -"

"We can all go." Hermione said, pointedly. 

"Oh." Ron said, cottoning on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come, too -" George said.

"You stay where you are!" Mrs Weasley snarled.

"You go on ahead, I want to watch this." I whispered to Harry, sniggering quietly.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and Hermione and Ginny followed. I heard their voices fading -

"What are Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked.

I heard Ron and Ginny laughing.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room." Ron said. "Great long price-lists for stuff they and Daisy've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that ..."

"I - well, the boys ..." Mr Weasley started nervously explaining to Mrs Weasley what had happened. 

I smirked at the twins, and they subtly flipped me off.

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually MAKING things." Ginny said. "We thought they just liked the noise - like them and Daisy last year."

"Weird, I've been hearing small explosions from our room at the Dursleys when Dudley and I weren't in there." Harry said. I imagined him frowning in thought.

"Only most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous." Ron said. "And, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burnt all of the order forms ... she's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.Ls as she expected."

"And then there was this big row." Ginny said. "Because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop ..."

Their voices faded out as Mr Weasley finished his explanation. "But I've dealt with them -"

But Mrs Weasley let out a stream of rage in the form of shouting and screaming, and I couldn't stop laughing behind my hands.

Later, there wasn't enough room in the kitchen for all of us to eat, so we had to go outside. Bill and Charlie were making two battered tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred, George, and I were cheering; Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang, and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and we all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor (third floor for you Americans).

"Will you keep it down?" He bellowed.

"Sorry, Perce." Bill said, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?" 

"Very badly." Percy said peevishly, and he slammed the window shut again. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely into the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg, and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

After the banterful evening, Mrs Weasley was hurrying us up to bed. "... Should be in bed, the whole lot of you, you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Daisy, Harry, if you leave your school lists out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hope it does this time!" I said enthusiastically.

"Same!" Fred and George chorused.

"Well, I certainly don't." Percy said sanctimoniously. "I SHUDDER to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" Fred said.

I broke out in laughter. "Dragon dung?! Lmao!"

"What are you, twelve?" Percy said grumpily, going very red in the face.

"Yeah, on a scale of one to ten!" I said brightly.

"Anyway, that was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!" He said. "It was nothing PERSONAL!"

"It was." Fred whispered to me. "We sent it."

~~~

I felt as though I had barely lain down to sleep in the twins' room when I was being shaken awake by Mrs Weasley.

"Time to go, Daisy, dear." She whispered, moving away to wake the twins.

I sat up, my head spinning, then fell back down again. I honestly couldn't be fucked getting up. George muttered indistinctly as his mother woke him. 

"S'time already?" Fred said groggily.

"No, she's just waking us up for the hell of it." I said sleepily.

Mrs Weasley left, and I hid myself under the blankets again.

"Softpaw, wake the fuck up."

"Bushy, go the fuck away."

"If you don't come out, we're going to drag you out."

"Why would you do that, Red? Leave me ALONE."

I felt two pairs of hands grab me and suddenly I was on the floor, staring up at the two grinning idiots.

"I hate you guys so much."

We dressed, occasionally exchanging inappropriate insults, puns, jokes, and sarcastic comments, and occasionally flinging rubber bands at each other, then, yawning and stretching, the three of us headed downstairs into the kitchen, meeting Harry and Ron on the way down.

Mr Weasley looked up as we entered, and spread his arms so that we could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing jumper and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?" He asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Daisy, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry and I chorused, him smiling, me grinning. "Very good."

The twins and Ron facepalmed. Only the adult wizards wore robes during the holidays (and all year round), kid and teenager wizards usually wore Muggle clothes during the holidays and when we weren't wearing school robes (which were basically like Muggle school uniform only with cloaks).

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" George said, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" Mrs Weasley said. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in." 

"So they're still in bed?" Fred said grumpily. "Why can't we Apparate, too?"

"Because you're not of age and you haven't got your test." Mrs Weasley snapped. "And where have those girls got to?" 

She bustled out of the kitchen and we heard her climbing the stairs. 

"Charlie had to take the test twice." Fred said, grinning. "He failed first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"

"Yes, well, he passed second time." Mrs Weasley said, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

"Percy only passed two weeks ago." George said. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can."

"Sounds like me." I said.

There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table. 

"We've got a bit of a walk." Mr Weasley said.

"Walk?" Harry said. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?" 

"Rude." I hissed to him, and he glared at me.

"No, no, that's miles away." Mr Weasley said, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup -" 

"George!" Mrs Weasley said sharply, and we all jumped. 

"What?" George said, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?" 

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several of our Ton-Tongue Toffees zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs Weasley said furiously. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was a hilarious scene; we'd been trying to smuggle as many Toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs Weasley managed to find all that the twins had on them.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" She shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother, as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months!" She shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.Ls!" 

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as we made our departure. Mrs Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her. I scurried after them, sniggering to myself.

"Well, have a lovely time." Mrs Weasley said. "And BEHAVE YOURSELVES." She called after the twins, but they did not look back or answer. 

~~~

Once we were at the campsite, having taken a Portkey with Cedric and his dad, Mr Weasley sent Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I to get some water from a tap.

Our fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As we came level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"HOW many times, Kevin? You DON'T - TOUCH - DADDY'S - WAND - yeuch!"

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells - "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way further on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks which rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I, he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands (that would be me in the future); others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents which read: The Salem Witches' Institute. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the insides of tents we passed, and though I couldn't understand a single word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" Ron said. 

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those which had their flaps open. Then, from behind us, we heard our names.

"Daisy! Harry! Ron! Hermione!" 

It was Seamus. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and Dean. 

"Like the decorations?" Seamus said, grinning, when we had gone over to say hello. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" Mrs Finnigan said. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over THEIR tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" She added, eyeing us beadily.

After we got the water, we made our way back through the campsite. Here and there we saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver dragged Harry and I over to his parents' tent to introduce us, and told us excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next we were hailed by Ernie, and a little further on we saw Suzanne. She waved and smiled at Harry, who slopped quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back. Ron and I smirked at him.

We met Terry on the way back, and he came along with us to the tent, him and I gossiping away and Harry, Ron, and Hermione rolling their eyes at our exchanging of insults.

"You've been ages." George said, when we finally got back. "Oh, hey, Hopper!"

"Met a few people." Ron said, setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches." Fred said.

Mr Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. I certainly was - this whole Cup campsite thing was FUN!

"Oops!" He said, as he managed to light a match, and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr Weasley." Hermione said kindly, taking the box from him, and starting to show him how to do it properly. 

At last, we got the fire lit. There was plenty to watch, because our tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the pitch, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office ... here comes Gilbert Wimple, he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms, he's had those horns for a while now ... Hello, Arnie ... Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know ... and that's Bode and Croaker ... they're Unspeakables ..."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top-secret, no idea what they get up to ..."

"Hey, Hopper, want a toffee?" I tossed him one of the many toffees I had hidden all over me this morning, winking at Fred and George.

Needless to say, Mr Weasley had to shrink someone's tongue again.

Ludo Bagman came to join the banter, and soon enough we were betting.

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred said, as us Insurgents quickly pooled most of our money, "that Ireland win - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr Bagman rubbish like that -" Percy hissed, (he and his brothers had Apparated just after we had lit the fire) but Bagman didn't seem to think our wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter. 

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!" 

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Cheers." George said, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully.

~~~ 

Later, when the match had ended, with much screaming from the Insurgents, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, Fred, George, and I scrambled over the backs of our seats and stood in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on our faces, our hands outstretched.

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling." Mr Weasley implored Fred and George, as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad." Fred said 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.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to our campsites. Raucous singing was borne towards us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all and, given the level of noise around us, Mr Weasley agreed that we Insurgents can go and dance with Terry, then come back and join the others in one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

We shot off to Terry's tent, skipping around, dancing and screaming at the top of our voices. We all linked hands in a circle and leaped up and down, grinning and singing.

"Le Irish won, Bushy!"

"I actually can't believe it! What are the damn odds?"

"Krum though!"

"We got so much money from that! THANK YOU GODRIC -"

It was only when Aaron and Morgan Boot shooed us out, grinning, that we left. I stopped by Draco's tent for a quick cheer and a kiss, then Fred, George, and I skipped back to our tent.

We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbling 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 went to bed. We changed into pyjamas and clambered into our bunks, Harry and I treating our bunk (I had bagged the top, and Harry was left with the bottom, as usual) like a throne. From the other side of the campsite we could still hear much singing, and the odd echoing bang. 

"Oh, I am glad that I'm not on duty." Mr Weasley muttered sleepily. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

I lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, exchanging inappropriate comments with the twins to everyone else's amusement (Bill, Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Ginny) or frustrated sighing (Percy, Mr Weasley, and Hermione), watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves. I was itching to get back on my own Firebolt and try out the Wronski Feint ... somehow Oliver had never managed to convey with all his wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like ... I saw myself in robes that had my name on the back, and imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Lee's voice echoed throughout the stadium, "I give you ... POTTER!"

I didn't know whether I had actually dropped off to sleep or not - my fantasies of flying like Krum and having myself, Fred, George, and Harry on the English team for the World Cup might well have slipped into actual dreams - all I knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr Weasley was shouting. 

"Get up! Ron - Daisy - come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit canvas.

"S'matter?" Harry and I chorused.

Dimly, I could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I could hear screams, and the sound of people running.

Hurriedly, we all changed out of our pyjamas and into our clothes, not giving any fucks. We stuffed our pyjamas into our bags, then stuffed the rest of our things into them, and took off. 

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field towards us, something that was emitting odd flashes of light, and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting towards us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. 

A crowd of masked wizards were marching across the campsite towards us, their wands pointing up into the air at four Muggle people. 

"That's sick." Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick..."

Terry came dashing over to us, a panicked look on his face. "Mum and Dad's gone to help out - I'll just join you guys, then -"

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr Weasley shouted over the noise, rolling up his sleeves along with Percy, Bill, and Charlie. "You lot - get into the woods, and STICK TOGETHER. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away towards the oncoming marchers; Mr Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction towards the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Muggle family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon." Fred said, grabbing my hand and starting to pull me towards the wood. The others followed. We all looked back as we reached the trees. The crowd beneath the family was larger than ever; we could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the family fall.

"Daisy!" A familiar voice called breathlessly, and I turned to see Draco running towards us. "I'm so glad you're safe - oh my Godric, I think my parents are in those masks, too -" he flew into me, hugging me so tight I couldn't breath, "- and - HEY. Get off."

He glared at Fred, who still had a hold on my hand. Fred glared back, dropping it.

"I was just dragging her to the trees, no need to get possessive, man. I had no idea you think you OWNED her." He said in a tone that suggested he wanted to start a fight. Fred's eyes flickered to me and back, a small smirk on his face as Draco growled.

"Look who it is." A drawling voice cut into our conversation from behind us.

We all turned sharply. Floppy was standing alone nearby us, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene on the campsite through a gap in the trees.

"Go fuck yourself." Ron said.

"Language, Weasley." Floppy said, his dark eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like HER spotted, would you?" 

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione said defiantly.

"Granger, they're after MUGGLES." Floppy said. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around ... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch." Harry and I snarled.

"Have it your own way, Weakling." Floppy said, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are." 

"You watch your mouth!" Terry shouted.

"Never mind him, Ron." Hermione said quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step towards Floppy.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard. Several people nearby screamed.

Floppy chuckled softly. "Scare easily, don't they?" He said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're YOUR parents?" I said, my temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Floppy turned his face to me, still smiling. "Well ... if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Weakling?"

"Oh, come on." Hermione said with a disgusted look at Floppy. "Let's go."

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger." Floppy sneered. "And hide HER." This time he nodded at me.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" I said incredulously.

"They're looking for you ... it's not just me who wants to give your little power to the Dark Lord, y'know."

I flipped him off as Hermione said, "Come ON." We all set off up the path again.

"Asshole!" Fred and George shouted simultaneously over their shoulders.

"I'll bet you anything his dad IS one of that masked lot!" Ron said hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" Ginny said fervently.

"Here, let me carry that for you." Draco said, taking my bag.

"Aw, thanks babe." I said for the benefit of Ron, who was miming vomiting.

The path was packed with plenty of other people, all of them looking nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.

A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw us, a girl with thick, curly hair like mine turned and said quickly, "Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"

"Pardon - je suis anglais." I said apologetically.

"Oh..." As we walked on we distinctly heard her say, "'Ogwarts."

"Beauxbatons." I muttered.

Everyone started pulling out their wands and lighting them up. I dug in the pockets of my jacket for my own wand - but it wasn't there. The only things I could find were my Omnioculars and my phone.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it ... I've lost my wand!" 

"You're kidding?"

We passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold they had undoubtably won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble on the campsite. Further still along the path, we walked into a patch of silvery light, and when we looked through the trees, we saw three tall and beautiful Veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" One of them shouted. "I'm a dragon-killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not!" His friend yelled. "You're a dish-washer at the Leaky Cauldron ... but I'm a Vampire Hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -"

A third young wizard now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic, I am."

I snorted. I recognised him - it was Stan Shunpike again. I turned to tell Ron this, who was beside me, but his face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"

"Honestly!" Hermione said, and we marched Ron away. By the time the sounds of the Veela and their admirers had faded completely, we were in the very heart of the wood. We seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

"Y'know, I could probably help those Muggles." I said, after thinking a little. Just saying it made my hands start to glow white. 

"Daisy, no." Draco grabbed my arm.

"Well, why not?" I said excitedly. 

"Why not? You'll get killed." Terry said sharply.

"No I won't. I've got these." I said, holding up my hands.

"Exactly - you heard what Floppy said. Those guys want them." George said.

"I could STOP them! Without a problem!"

"And we need to stop you!" Harry grabbed at my other arm. "Hashtag stop Daisy Potter 1993!" He made a feeble attempt at a joke. (Is it 1993?)

"Softpaw, c'mon. We don't want you to die. I don't want you to die." Fred said with an intense look in his eyes. It seemed pretty touching, until, "I want you to be at my funeral to lower me into my grave so you can let me down one last time."

Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of us. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" He said, blinking down at us, trying to make out our faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?" 

We looked at each other, surprised.

"Well - there's a sort of riot going on." Ginny said.

Bagman stared at her. "What?"

"On the campsite ... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles..." Terry said.

Bagman swore loudly. "Damn them!" He said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop.

We stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Then, suddenly, I heard someone staggering towards our clearing. We waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt. 

"Hello?" Harry called.

There was silence.

"Who's there?" 

"MORSMORDRE!" 

A green, glittering shape shot high into the air. I peered closer ... Shit. It was the Dark Mark.

Everyone was slowly drawing away from it with terrified looks on their faces, but I started forwards, into the woods. 

"Hey, dickhead!" I called out, furious at the person who had conjured the mark of the bitch who had killed my parents and nearly killed my brother and I, more than once.

I stopped, looking around. There was nobody that I could see in the trees; darkness surrounded me, and I could hardly see anything. I listened closely; there was a slight rustling behind me. 

Must be a bird.

I turned to go back to the clearing, shrugging. I had just stepped out of the trees when everyone shouted, rushing forwards, and someone grabbed me from behind and jabbed a wand into my neck.

"Nobody come any closer!" The unfamiliar guy said, gripping my waist tighter when I struggled.

"Let her go!" Harry shouted.

"Sorry, no can do! The Dark Lord needs her, and I have to give her to him." The guy grinned from behind me. I flicked my heel up, but he caught it and forced it back down.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" I turned to glare at him.

He grinned mischievously at me. "Oh, I know, honey."

"Don't call me honey."

"Don't try to kick me in the nuts, then. Do you know how much that hurts? Merlin."

I tried to twist his arm around, but he only pulled my arms behind my back and pushed the tip of his wand into my neck more forcefully. "Control yourself, woman!"

"Just - let go of her. Please!" Terry called.

"No chance -"

"C'mon - what d'you even want? We'll give you it, just please let her go!" Draco pleaded.

"I told you, I want her." Jerk said. "Well - I don't want her - Godric no, she's a little bitch -" "Says you, asshole!" "- but You-Know-Who wants her."

I stood on Jerk's feet, putting as much pressure as I could on them, but he hoisted me up so that my feet were dangling off the ground, and his arm around my neck was tight enough to cut off my air. I puffed, tugging my hands free to claw weakly at his arm.

"Don't hurt her!" Fred shouted, his eyes glinting.

"Am I hurting you? Shit, sorry." Jerk said anxiously, loosening his grip around my neck.

"Look, c'mon mate, you seem like a halfway decent guy, just let her go." George said.

"I'm really sorry, man, but I have specific orders -" 

"Will we have to resort to violence?" Fred growled.

"I'll make sure they won't hurt her - well, I'll try -"

Everyone lunged for us, but Jerk dropped the wand and spun on the spot with me. The world dissolved in a whirl of colours, and suddenly, we were standing in the abandoned mansion that Terry and I once explored, in the room that I had had the dream about. An ugly baby-like thing with red eyes that must be the disembodied Voldemort was sitting in a chair, and Wormtail was cowering in a corner.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

Shit.