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"Surprise!"
Lyra let out a startled laugh as Daphne threw her arms around her in a tight hug, a maybe too tight hug.
"Daphne, I can't breathe," she wheezed, though she couldn't help but smile widely.
Daphne pulled back, her grin as radiant as ever. "I don't care, I've missed you!"
Lyra's laughed. Despite the lingering sadness in her life, Daphne's energy was infectious. "I missed you too. And you look amazing, as always."
"Oh, I know," Daphne quipped, flipping her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder. "But look at you. Absolutely stunning, as usual. Every year you turn prettier and prettier."
Astoria stepped in, her lips twitching into a playful smirk. "I agree, Daph. But seems like you have the same problem, only the other way around."
Daphne shot her sister and angry look, and they were already at each others throats, bickering back and fourth like siblings do.
Draco groaned dramatically from the back of the group. "Merlin help me, will you guys quit?" He groaned, like a little spoiled child.
"Yeah Draco, because you make the situation so much better," Lyra shot back sarcastically, her mood lightening even more with every teasing remark.
The group settled into the luxurious tent, which had been decked out with plush seating, ornate decorations, and even a small chandelier hanging from the center.
Plates of food and drinks were laid out on an elegant table, as if they were attending a banquet rather than a Quidditch match.
Theo Nott strolled into the room with his usual cool demeanor, raising an eyebrow at the lively chatter. "Looks like the party started without me."
"Theo." Lyra greeted warmly. "It's good to see you. Thank you for inviting us."
He gave her a small, genuine smile. "Of course. It wouldn't be the same without you lot."
Draco clapped Theo on the shoulder, muttering something about the tent being as excessive as he'd expected, and the two boys exchanged smirks. Meanwhile, the girls began catching up, their laughter filling the space.
Soon enough, Lucius Malfoy entered the tent, clearing his throat to gain everyone's attention. "It's nearly time to head to the stadium," he announced. "Let's not dawdle."
The group gathered their things and made their way out of the tent, excitement buzzing in the air. Lyra walked beside Daphne and Astoria, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.
Her friends presence was exactly the distraction she needed, and for the first time, she allowed herself to let go of her worries, if only for a little while.
As they approached the stadium, Lyra couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of it. The towering stands seemed to touch the sky, and the atmosphere was electric with anticipation.
The sound of cheers and chants grew louder with every step, and she could feel the energy thrumming through her veins.
"This is going to be incredible," Daphne said, her eyes shining with excitement.
"It better be," Draco added, smirking. "Father pulled a lot of strings for these seats."
Lyra rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. As they climbed the stairs to their box, she looked out over the massive stadium, taking in the sea of fans waving flags and cheering for their teams.
For the first time in weeks, Lyra felt something close to joy. This was her world, her people, her escape. And for a little while, she allowed herself to be swept away by it.
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As Lyra followed the group up the stairs, her attention was barely on the beauty of the stadium or the growing excitement in the air. Rather, a couple of oddly familiar voices came from above them.
The voices were laughing and joking, like there wasn't a care in the world.
"Blimey, Dad, how far up are we?" Ron's voice was unmistakable, tinged with admirement.
And just like that, the entire family came into view. Alongside with Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.
Lucius Malfoy, walking ahead of Lyra, turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Well, put it this way if it rains, you'll be the first to know."
Draco snickered at his father's remark, his arrogance shining through as he took a step forward, looking up at the group.
"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself," Draco added smugly, glancing back at the group below. I caught Daphne's eye, and we both rolled our eyes.
"Don't boast, Draco. There's no need with these people," Lucius drawled, his tone cutting. But as they were about to leave, he raised his 'pole', stopping Harry Potter in his tracks.
"Do enjoy yourself, won't you? While you can."
Lyra smirked quietly by the awkward exchange, and she could feel her father behind her shooting daggers towards Arthur Weasley. The Arakan's and the Weasley's had never gotten along great.
She stifled a laugh as she looked Draco up and down, he looked awfully offended by his fathers remark.
But as the group slowly left, a pair of familiar hazel eyes caught her eye from the group above them.
Her heart had seized in her chest the moment her eyes landed on a familiar head of bright red hair.
Fred Weasley.
He stood a few steps behind his family, leaning casually against the railing with George close beside him.
Fred's expression was one of mild amusement as he listened to Ron complain and silently curse to himself, but his eyes flicked up, and then they locked onto Lyra.
Time seemed to slow. The terrible noise of the stadium, the Malfoys' barbed comments, even Daphne's voice as she tried to get Lyra's attention. All of it faded into the background.
Fred's face lit up with that signature grin she knew all too well. He nudged George, who glanced up at her too, but Lyra barely noticed.
Her focus was entirely on Fred as he pushed himself off the railing and took a step forward.
"Well, well," Fred called out, his voice teasing and warm, carrying easily over the noise. "If it isn't Miss Arakan. Fancy running into you here." He remarked as he leaned himself on the railing, looking down at her from above.
Lyra's stomach flipped, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. She managed to recover, plastering on her usual smirk.
"You know this bloke?" Her father whispered beside her, keeping her eyes locked on the auburn haired boy above them.
She shrugged her father before she continued to speak.
"Weasley," she replied, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. "What a surprise. I didn't know they let Weasley's into the same stadium as civilized folk."
She taunted, and she could see from the corner of her eye her dad smirking slightly, before collecting himself.
Fred laughed lowly. "We're everywhere, it seems. You can't escape us. Not even in the biggest stadiums."
She smirked up at him, but before she managed to get another word out, Draco's voice cut through the moment like a knife.
"What are you doing, Lyra? Come along. Don't waste your time on that garbage."
But Lyra only shrugged him off, ignoring him completely. He groaned in frustration.
"Ugh. Don't tell me you're actually acknowledging him. You guys can get back to your bickering when its your turn to play quidditch."
"Don't worry, Malfoy," Fred interjected smoothly, his grin widening. "We're perfectly happy without your acknowledgment. Cheers, by the way. Lovely robes."
Draco groaned in irritation as he looked towards his father to snitch, but he was already long gone, tired of the teenagers jabbering.
Draco bristled, his face reddening. "Come on, Lyra," he snapped, grabbing her arm to pull her along.
She shrugged him off. "Don't touch me, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes, but he completely ignoring the girl.
"Uh, bye." Daphne said as she looked towards the Weasleys, before catching up with her group.
Turning back to Fred, Lyra allowed herself one last smile. "Good luck finding your seats, Weasley. Try not to get dizzy, the pressure is high up there!" She yelled out, her friends dragging her away as they all giggled.
Fred huffed, slowly walking away with his group. "Anything for you, Arakan."
With that, Lyra turned and ascended the stairs, feeling Draco's burning glare on her back.
Daphne caught up to her quickly, muttering under her breath about "complications." But Lyra barely noticed. Her heart was racing, and a small involuntary smile tugged at her lips.
Fred Weasley had that effect on her. He always had. And as much as she hated to admit it.
As the group settled into their luxurious box seats, Lyra couldn't help but drool at the view.
The stadium sprawled out before her, filled with a sea of cheering fans, waving vibrant flags in their favourite team's colors.
"Can you believe this?" Daphne leaned in close, her voice a mix of awe and excitement. "Best seats in the entire stadium."
"Only the best for the Malfoys," Draco said, smirking as he took a seat next to Theo.
Lyra rolled her eyes but said nothing, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. She glanced discreetly across the stadium, scanning the sea of faces.
The Weasleys were seated far off to the side, their box less opulent but undoubtedly filled with laughter. Her eyes sought out Fred, but from this distance, she could barely make out individual features.
But her thoughts were quickly knocked out of her head as the game began with a thunderous roar from the crowd as the players shot into the sky.
The Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum, drew immediate attention with his skillful maneuvers, while the Irish team dazzled with their coordinated plays.
Lyra found herself swept up in the excitement, cheering alongside her friends as the game grew more intense.
She carefully watched their strategies, and of course she was counting on the Bulgarians.
By the time Ireland secured the win, with Krum catching the Snitch in a dramatic finish, Lyra's voice was hoarse from yelling. The group spilled out of their box, the energy infectious as fans poured into the corridors, discussing the match and praising the players.
"That was brilliant!" Daphne exclaimed, practically bouncing as they made their way back to their tent. "Krum is amazing. Did you see that Wronski Feint? God, he's brilliant."
"Everyone saw it, Daphne," Draco muttered, though even he seemed in high spirits. "It's all anyone's talking about. I'd reckon you're in love with him."
"Show off, Malfoy." Theo grunted beside the blonde bloke, shooting him a daring glare as he went over to Daphne, placing a protective hand around her waist.
Lyra smiled at the gesture as the group left the stadium, heading towards the tent.
Back at their tent, the group lounged on the plush sofas, chatting animatedly about the match. The excitement lingered in the air, but Lyra found herself growing restless.
She couldn't help but linger on the conversation she had heard earlier that day. What did they mean by 'her mother would probably show up.'
I mean, she knew her mother was a death eater, but why would that matter now? Voldemort is gone.
At least that is what her father keeps telling her.
She sighed as thoughts kept rambling on inside her head, and enough was enough, she needed some fresh air.
"I'm going for some air," she said, standing abruptly.
Daphne looked up, puzzled. "Everything alright?"
"Just need a moment. I'll be back."
Lyra stepped out into the cool night, the distant hum of post game revelry still audible. The grounds were quieter now, with most spectators gathered around tents or heading to the celebration areas.
She wandered aimlessly, the soft glow of lanterns lighting her path.
She continued walking alongside the field, greeting students she knew from her school from all different houses.
She passed each tent as casual, until she passed a big brown one which was rather louder than the others.
She stopped in her tracks. 'I really shouldn't'. She thought and continued walking.
She took a step back, and curiosity got the better of her. She took another step back and watched through the small gap in the tent, her fingers slightly opening the gap.
The Weasleys were shouting like crazy animals, teasing Ron and singing in harmony.
She scrunched her nose by the sight. Childish, was all it was.
"Enjoying the view?"
A familiar voice said behind her, breaking her out of her thoughts.
And of course, it was him.
Lyra spun on her heel to face Fred, her heart skipping a beat, from both embarrassment and surprise. "What are you doing here, Weasley?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Fred Weasley stood behind her with a knowing smirk, looking down at her pathetically. He watched her in expectance, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets.
Fred's smirk widened as he cocked his head toward the tent she'd been peering into. "Uh, returning to my tent, maybe? What are you doing here?"
She pursed her lips with furrowed brows. "I wasn't spying, if that's what you're getting at. Not my fault your family can't keep attention away from themselves. They're childish, all of them."
Fred clutched his chest dramatically, acting offended. "Ouch. That's rich coming from someone whose family gatherings probably involve sitting in uncomfortable chairs, sipping tea and discussing the latest Ministry regulations."
Lyra bristled, her arms tightening across her chest. "Better that than and acting like complete fools. And just for the record, your Father works at the Ministry as well."
Fred leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Careful, Arakan. All this jealousy spewing out of your mouth is sad to hear. Not my fault your family don't know what fun means."
"Jealousy?" Lyra scoffed, her voice rising. "Of what, exactly? I am exactly where I want to be in life, but thank you for your concern."
"Is that so?" Fred shot back, grinning. "Can't be easy, though, living in such a pristine little bubble. Your only fun involves drinking, beating up students, and trash talking third years."
Lyra stepped forward, her nose wrinkling in indignation. "And you? Is acting like a court jester your only personality trait? And I'm not the only one beating up students here."
"Collins deserved it." Fred defended himself as he straightened his back. "You just seem to pick fights for fun, guess it runs in the family-"
Lyra took a sharp step forward, her eyebrows twisted in irritation, but before she could answer, another smirk made it's way across the red heads face.
"Hold on a second... is that red face paint I see?" He squinted dramatically at her cheeks. "Didn't know you cheered for the wrong team, Arakan."
Lyra scoffed and stayed silent for a second, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. Ireland just got lucky this year. Everyone knows the Hungarians are where it's at."
Fred grunted. "You mean to tell me you weren't absolutely impressed by that Irish teamwork? That Chaser lineup was flawless."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Flawless? They were barely holding it together by the end! If Victor hadn't caught the Snitch, Hungary would've wiped the floor with them in another ten minutes."
Fred shook his head with a pitying sigh. "You poor Slytherins. Always cheering for the wrong people."
"Oh, sod off, Weasley," Lyra grumbled, turning away.
Fred grinned, falling into step beside her. "Admit it." He said as he walked beside her. "You were on the edge of your seat."
"I was not."
"You gasped when Lynch crashed."
"I gasped because he nearly died, you idiot."
Fred chuckled. "See? Passion. You care."
Lyra stopped in her tracks to take a moment to collect herself, muttering under her breath about "obnoxious Gryffindors," while Fred stopped right beside her, hands in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself.
"You know what-" She started, but before she could finish, a sudden, deafening boom echoed across the grounds, cutting through their bickering like a knife.
Both of them froze, their gazes snapping in the direction of the noise.
"What was that?" Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Fred's playful demeanor vanished in an instant. "No idea, but it didn't sound good."
A few seconds passed, and then the tent flap behind them rustled, and Arthur Weasley emerged, his face lined with concern. He gave them a brief, puzzled glance, his brow furrowing slightly at the sight of them standing so close together.
"Arakan." He greeted in a low tone, before his gaze shifted towards his son.
"Fred? What's going on here?" Arthur asked, his tone distracted, his eyes scanning the horizon.
Fred opened his mouth to reply, but another explosion ripped through the air, this one accompanied by distant screams. Arthur's expression darkened as he turned sharply toward the noise.
"Both of you, inside the tent now," he ordered, his voice firm.
"But-" They both said in harmony, only for Arthur to cut him off.
"Now, Fred!"
Lyra and Fred exchanged a glance before stepping aside as Arthur hurried inside the tent again. From their vantage point of view, they could see clouds of smoke rising into the air and faint, flickering orange glows in the distance.
Lyra turned her head one last time towards where the sound came from, and the sight left her mouth dry.
Multiple dark figures in dark robes and sharp masks walked across the camp, and people were in pure panic. Their movements quick and deliberate.
Lyra's stomach dropped as she realized what was happening.
It was true. When they said her mother could possibly show up, they meant it.
Now she was angry. Angry how her father didn't care to warn her before hand. Angry how he had lied to her all this time.
She couldn't speak, only mutter out a few lousy words, her head spinning in frustration.
"Death Eaters."
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