Harry Potter with Technology System

Ch339- Ruined Legacy

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The group stood to stretch as the match officially concluded. Around them, the crowd began to filter out of the stands, a cacophony of voices discussing every goal, feint, and save in painstaking detail.

“Alright,” Selena said, brushing a strand of hair back into place, “what’s the plan now? Do we head back to the campsite or mingle with the masses?”

“Definitely not mingling,” Harry replied, scanning the dispersing crowd. “Let’s avoid getting trampled by drunk Irish fans.”

“And Bulgarian fans drowning their sorrows,” Daphne added.

“Sounds like we’re heading back, then,” Neville said, stretching his arms above his head. “Not that I’m complaining—those seats weren’t exactly comfortable.”

Fred and George appeared out of nowhere, as usual, their grins wide and conspiratorial. “We’re going to grab some food on the way back,” Fred announced, slinging an arm around Ginny’s shoulders.

“Care to join us?” George added, holding up a handful of Galleons. “We promise not to poison anything.”

Ginny rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away from Fred’s grasp. “As if anyone trusts you two near food.”

“Wise,” Blaise muttered, already heading toward the exit. “I’m not risking it.”

“I’ll come,” Astoria said cheerfully, skipping ahead to join Fred and George. “But if I find a single Canary Cream in my sandwich, you’re both dead.”

“You wound us, Astoria,” Fred replied, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “We would never prank you.”

“Not unless we were bored,” George added with a wink.

Harry stopped them with a gesture. "Let’s not separate. Follow me back to the tent," he said.

The group paused, exchanging puzzled looks. “Something wrong?” Cyrus Greengrass asked, his sharp gaze locking onto Harry. The other parents, sensing the undercurrent of caution, also turned their attention to him.

Harry gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. “Just an anonymous tip, and the Ministry seems to be taking it seriously. But, just in case, we’re sticking together.”

The anonymous tip, of course, had come from him. After subjugating Bellatrix, Harry had uncovered detailed plans from Voldemort's followers about a potential attack at the Quidditch World Cup. While he had taken extreme precautions to ensure nothing would disrupt the event, Harry wasn’t the type to leave things to chance. Having his friends and their families scattered around a massive crowd like this? Not an option.

Cyrus gave him a long, measured look but nodded. “Fair enough.” The rest of the adults seemed to accept the explanation, though their unease was evident.

Fred opened his mouth, likely to make some sarcastic remark, but George elbowed him in the ribs, cutting him off. “Right, sticking together it is,” George said instead, though his grin faltered slightly when he noticed Harry’s expression.

Harry didn’t wait for further questions. “Let’s move,” he said, turning on his heel and weaving through the dispersing crowd, the group following closely behind him.

The campsite was chaotic but under control. Ireland fans were celebrating with loud songs and laughter, raising glasses of Firewhisky in toast after toast, while neutral attendees joined in the merriment. On the other side, Bulgarian supporters drank in somber clusters, the occasional grumble of frustration breaking through their otherwise quiet discussions. Despite the buzz of victory and the haze of alcohol, no one dared cross the line. Aurors and enforcers patrolled the grounds with watchful eyes, their presence enough to keep the rowdier crowd from causing trouble.

The Ministry had changed under Amelia Bones, and it showed. The leniency and incompetence of Cornelius Fudge’s leadership were long gone, replaced with a firm and steady grip. Over the past few months, since Amelia’s appointment, laws had tightened, and enforcement became swift and decisive. This was no longer a Ministry willing to let minor infractions slide, especially in public gatherings of this magnitude.

As Harry led the group back to their tent, the festive atmosphere swirled around them. A trio of Irish witches stumbled past, arms linked, singing a raucous rendition of “The Green Broomstick Brigade,” their voices rising over the chatter. A few steps behind them, a Bulgarian wizard in a crimson scarf was arguing loudly with his friend over whether Krum had been too aggressive with his last dive.

Astoria was practically bouncing on her toes, her Ireland scarf draped over her shoulders like a champion’s cape. “Did you see their Chasers, Daphne? They were brilliant! Especially Moran—she was weaving through those Bulgarian Beaters like it was nothing.”

Daphne sighed, clearly used to her sister’s endless energy. “Yes, Tori. You’ve mentioned it. Repeatedly.”

“That’s because it was amazing!” Astoria grinned, skipping a step ahead before turning to face the group as she walked backward. “Admit it, you were impressed.”

“I was impressed they didn’t hex you for screaming in their ears the whole match,” Blaise muttered, earning a snicker from Tracey.

As Harry and his group arrived at his tent, he casually waved his arm, casting several subtle charms. The magic hummed faintly as it settled into place. One ensured the noise of the rowdy campsite was muted within the tent; another masked any disturbances from the outside world. From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem like Harry simply preferred some peace and quiet. Inside, the group moved about freely, chatting and laughing, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to erupt beyond the enchanted canvas.

Harry glanced at his watch, noting the time. The corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smirk. “Right on time,” he thought, the faintest trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. “They might be scumbags, but at least they’re punctual.” His gaze swept briefly over his group—friends and allies lounging comfortably, immersed in conversation. They remained oblivious to what was happening outside, thanks to the silencing charm he'd cast moments before.

Seeing everyone settled, Harry stood and addressed the room with a tone that betrayed nothing. “I’ll speak to Aunt Amelia,” he said smoothly. The announcement drew little attention, as most were absorbed in post-match discussions. Without waiting for a reply, Harry stepped out of the tent, ensuring the flap fell shut behind him.

Once outside, he slipped under his Invisibility Cloak. The fabric shimmered briefly before melting into the darkness, concealing him entirely. Moving silently, Harry made his way through the throng of drunken fans and oblivious families. A ripple of anticipation curled in his chest as he reached the edge of the forested area near the campsite. Just as he came to a halt, his eyes darted upward. The night sky exploded with green, a sinister symbol burning brightly against the stars—the Dark Mark.

Screams erupted almost immediately, followed by a wave of chaos as wizards and witches scrambled in panic. Parents clutched their children, dragging them toward safety, while groups of Ministry officials barked orders, their wands raised as they attempted to maintain control. Harry, however, remained perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the twisted snake and skull that marred the heavens.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Subtle, as always,” he muttered under his breath. His wand was already in his hand as he pointed it at the glowing mark. “Let’s ruin your legacy and terror, Voldemort.”

A sharp flick of his wrist sent a brilliant streak of magic into the sky. The spell struck the Dark Mark, and for a moment, the green light wavered. Then, to the horror of the masked Death Eaters hidden among the crowd, the terrifying symbol began to warp. The skull’s menacing grin twisted into a cartoonish smile, the serpent coiling awkwardly into what looked like a poorly drawn balloon animal. With another flick of his wand, Harry added a loud honking noise that echoed across the campsite.

A ripple of confusion spread through the crowd as the once-terrifying Dark Mark was reduced to something laughable. A few chuckles broke out amidst the chaos, quickly spreading into full-blown laughter as witches and wizards pointed at the ridiculous sight overhead. Even some of the Aurors on patrol couldn’t hide their smirks.

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