Getting an inebriated werewolf through crowds of equally drunken revellers was not any easy task for a fourteen year-old - even one that was a werewolf-animagus.
The tent city that had grown around the Quidditch stadium was divided into 'villages'. One village was designated for Irish guests while another was set aside for the Bulgarian guests. There was also a village for families and another for the VIP's (i.e. high-society Purebloods and foreign dignitaries). Sirius refused to be with the 'stodgy matrons' or the 'poncy gits'. Their tent was dead in the centre of the 'general public' village. In general it was younger magicals without children and the working class of the magical world. The place was a madhouse of drunken revellers, screams, and laughter.
Harry got Remus squared away on his bed. The older wizard was out for the night. Harry wandered outside the tent and sat in a camp chair Dobby had provided for the Marauders. The party seemed to be winding down for the night. The noise level was way down as people started wandering off for bed; their own or someone else's. Harry was enjoying the anonymity of the crowd. No one realized the teen sitting outside the tent nursing a butterbeer was THE Harry Potter. They were too caught up in their own excitement and parties to pay that much attention to Harry.
There were only a dozen or so people in sight when it started. At first it was just an increase in the noise coming from another part of the campground. It took Harry several minutes to realize there was something about these screams.
These weren't the screams of laughter and parties he'd been hearing all night. These were screams of terror.
The revellers around Harry, the more sober ones at least, also recognized there was a problem. A few tried to Apparate away but found there were wards in place. This caused the first signs of panic in the area. Some tried to grab their drunken mates to flee on foot. Others tried to find hiding places inside the tents. One grizzled old wizard was physically throwing his friends into his tent two sites down and across the 'street'. He then stepped inside, gave Harry a small nod, and closed the tent flap. No sooner had the flap been zipped and the whole tent disappeared to be replaced by an old stump surrounded by some largish rocks.
Harry didn't have time to think about the old wizard's actions. Through the opening left by the disappeared tent, Harry saw flashes of light just a few rows over. Twenty seconds later a mob of screaming, panicked people came running down the village 'street'. Blinded by their panic and probable intoxication, the witches and wizards never even thought of defending themselves with their own wands. The only thought to get through their alcoholic haze was to run away.
Harry froze for a moment. Sirius was still out there and Remus was passed out in the tent. As an underage wizard Harry wasn't supposed to even be carrying his wand over the summer. Sirius said that was stupid and to keep it on him at all times. But only use it in an absolute emergency. That emergency was getting closer but it wasn't here yet.
Harry opened the tent door and left it looking like someone had run out in a panic. He knocked over the camp chairs and small table to add to the image. Finally, he placed his father's Cloak over the sleeping form of Remus Lupin.
Leaving the tent, Harry climbed up the small oak tree next to the tent. Dobby picked this site as the tree provided some shade to the tent. Now its leaves could serve a different purpose. While it lacked mobility options, it gave him good visibility and not a likely target for curses. It was also the best he could come up with in the time he had.
In any case, he didn't have to wait long before trouble arrived.
The tent across the street erupted in fire as three figures dressed in black robes with white masks approached. Several people ran screaming from the tent only to be met with curses and hexes. Then Harry saw the same green light he'd seen the year before in the memories brought out by the dementors.
The Death Eaters stopped in front of the tent.
"It looks like to Blood-traitor coward and the Potter brat ran but check inside," one man called out. "Kill anyone you find, then burn it down." They probably wouldn't find Remus under the Cloak but the fire certainly would.
One of the wizards entered the tent while the other two stood outside keeping watch and cursing any targets that presented themselves. Screams and explosions from other parts of the campground told Harry theses three weren't alone and help wouldn't be coming soon.
A fourteen year-old wizard dropped out of the tree and a werewolf landed in his place.
Harry took the first Death Eater out on his blind side. The werewolf's wickedly sharp claws easily sliced through cloth and skin to the soft flesh beneath. The man had no time to scream before the world went dark.
.....
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