Dark Night

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

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Later that afternoon as the excitement of the final match became more tangible, Cedric walked through the buzzing crowd in search of some World Cup merchandise. He had seen people walking around with Irish and Bulgarian national flags that played the national anthems when waved, and he was intrigued at what else was being offered. He didn't have to walk very far before he came upon a bunch of salesmen, and he was momentarily distracted by the volume of merchandising for the World Cup. The flags he had seen before, but there was more. Miniature figures of the team players, squealing Irish rosettes and shamrocks, as well as scarves and trading cards, all in all, an impressive selection. He purchased a rosette that squealed the names of the Irish players and was examining his newly purchased set of Omnioculars when something whizzed by his face. He turned in surprise and realized that it was a miniature Firebolt that had zoomed past his head, closely followed by two or three more.

He managed to catch one and examined it closer. It was perfect in every detail, down to the inscription of the brand name on the handle. Unbidden, a random thought swept through his mind. Harry has a Firebolt. Just as quickly, the thought fled and took with it all logic and reason. Impulsively, he paid for the broom and collected the gift box with which it came. He left the area without looking at anything else and returned to his tent, oddly happy with his purchases.

Later that night, he accompanied his father to the massive stadium. They found their assigned seats, and as his father walked off to greet some of his associates, Cedric looked around the arena. The crowd was enormous and very jubilant, and excitement thrummed through his body. He could see the Top Box slightly above him and to his right as it filled with visiting dignitaries. He looked through his Omnioculars and noticed that the Minister of Magic had entered the box and was being greeted by Mr Weasley. Cedric clicked the zoom knob of his Omnioculars and the scene immediately became larger, the view even closer than before. He continued along the line of redheads and smiled as he realized that nearly the entire Weasley clan was there. His eyes widened when Mr. Fudge reached out and shook hands with ... Harry! Cedric looked on as Mr. Fudge spoke briefly with Harry and then introduced him to some other wizards. Cedric hurriedly fiddled with the knobs on his Omnioculars and eventually had Harry's smiling face in his entire field of view. He was content to replay the scene over again many times until he was interrupted as his father took his seat beside him. Moments later, a booming voice echoed through the stadium, and he smiled at his father as they joined in the cheers of the crowd to welcome the start of the final match.

~*~

The match proved to be absolutely spectacular with exciting plays and goals scored on both sides. After Ireland's win, despite Krum's capture of the Snitch, Cedric joined his father and some other Ministry workers for drinks in their tent. There was much hilarity and mirth and talk of the next World Cup was a hot topic when suddenly noise erupted outside the tent. His father and the other men hastened through the opening and into a melee of screaming, shouting wizards running in all directions.

Cedric was alarmed when he stepped out into the fray mere moments later and was almost thrown to the ground by the rush of running people. His nerves jangled as he stumbled back and looked around wildly for his father, who was gathering the dignitaries and their wives together. Cedric looked beyond the approaching crowd and felt an eerie surge of malevolence and bone-chilling cold. He realized the grim aura belonged to the group of hooded wizards that strode across the campgrounds a short distance away, casting destruction with every wave of their wands. He also saw Muggles suspended in the air above the hooded figures. Unconsciously, his thoughts turned to Harry and the Weasleys – where were they? Were they safe?

All around him was destruction, tents in flames and broken chairs scattered about like kindling. He returned to the tent to grab his jacket and belongings, then made his way outside again. The dark figures had passed, but he could hear sounds of battle not far away. He ran in the direction of the noise, his wand out and ready, desperately afraid, but determined to be of some use. He saw a glowing image of a skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth appear in the sky. He felt the blood in his veins run cold as an unnatural chill shook him to his core. Although he was too young to have first hand knowledge of that spectre, he knew enough to recognise the Dark Mark and to realize that it was a very bad sign.

Cedric didn't know when his father appeared at his side, but he felt Amos' fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arm. His father had his wand out and he was shouting.

'...and take this Portkey, Cedric, take it, and let your mother know that I'll be home as soon as I can. Do it now, Cedric, NOW!'

Before Cedric could open his mouth to object, his father pressed a tennis ball into his hand, and in mere moments he was in the front yard of his parents' home. Upon landing, he staggered and dropped to his knees, breathing heavily as the shock and horror of the recent events finally sank into his head. He looked around uneasily, checking to see that he was indeed safe before he caught his breath and went inside to wake his mother.

Cedric and his mother sat in the kitchen of their home and waited for Amos' return. Cedric had finally stopped shaking after his mother had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and made him a cup of strong tea. He had paced back and forth in front of their fireplace, as though the repetitive movement would somehow hasten his father's arrival. His mother merely sat at the kitchen table and watched her son's movements as she grasped her cup of tea in both hands. They waited.

After an indeterminable time, Cedric heard the door open and his father entered, looking windswept, tired and nervous. His eyes met Cedric's thankfully for a moment before he quickly crossed the floor and embraced his wife. She returned his hug tightly and then busied herself with making her husband some tea. Amos sank wearily into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands.

'Dad, what happened? What caused that sign in the sky? Who were those people?' Cedric's mind was a clutter of questions which couldn't spill from his mouth quickly enough as he moved to kneel in front of his father. Amos raised a quieting hand; he looked as though he needed time to gather his thoughts.

'Amos,' his wife enquired gently. 'Cedric told me what he saw. Do you think he's... returned?' Her voice quavered as she placed a cup of tea into her husband's hands.

Amos sighed deeply and took a sip of his tea to steady himself.

'Sheila, Cedric, the sign in the sky was the Dark Mark. The dark figures, the ones you saw, Cedric, marching with the Muggles in the air and causing destruction, those were Death Eaters.'

Cedric's blood ran cold; he'd heard enough about the history of the Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to realize that things had taken a very bad turn indeed. He felt a cold and sickly shiver go down his spine and a large knot of fear deep in his gut as he looked to his mother for her reaction. Her face showed unmistakable fear and her eyes took on a faraway look, as though she were remembering horrors of the past. He looked to his father, who was rubbing his forehead as though trying to erase the scenes he had witnessed that night. Cedric understood that reasoning completely. He had the distinct impression that his father was holding back a lot of information, but he knew better than to try to get anything more out of him tonight.

Cedric rose to his feet; he was tired and desperately needed to sleep. He rubbed his knees where they had rested on the cold kitchen floor and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. He kissed his mother goodnight, then turned and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it, almost too tired to think. He wondered if Harry and the Weasleys had managed to get out of the tumultuous campgrounds safely, and he considered the implications of the Dark Mark in the sky. He flung himself onto his bed, and was about to turn onto his stomach when he felt a fluttering in his jacket pocket. He reached inside to find the tiny Firebolt furiously trying to get free of its box. He smiled at the miniature broom and its single-mindedness of purpose, content simply to fly, fly, and fly. Wearily, he let the broom go and lay back in bed as he watched it swoop back and forth over his head, back and forth, and slowly his eyes closed until he saw no more.

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TBC

A/N: Again, snaps to my Nishie for all the ideas, and to both Jackie and Cocoachristy for their never ending help with commas ! Please review.