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As Maggie wanders through the forest, the rest of the group isn't far behind, their voices harmonizing as they sing the school anthem

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As Maggie wanders through the forest, the rest of the group isn't far behind, their voices harmonizing as they sing the school anthem. The air around her seems to grow colder with each step she takes, sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes catch sight of something unusual behind a tree-a hand, with a familiar signet ring adorning the pinky finger.

Instinctively, Maggie manoeuvres around the tree, only to be met with a sight so horrifying that a scream tears itself from her mouth, tearing through the serene air of the forest. The scream causes her to hunch over from the sheer force of it.

The group rushes over in alarm, freezing as they stare at the body, but Fred doesn't hesitate to catch Maggie as her legs give way, gently lowering her to the ground, and enveloping Maggie in his protective embrace. George kneels on her other side, his hands reaching out to envelope the witch's trembling hands.

In a desperate attempt to shield her from the gruesome scene, Fred gently grabs Maggie's chin, trying to turn her head away from her grandfather's lifeless body. George held onto her trembling hands, unable to tear his eyes away from the horrific image before them.

Maggie's grandfather was lying on the ground, his face etched with an expression of sheer terror that seemed frozen in time. His limbs were stiff and immobile, a clear indicator that he had been struck with a killing curse. The paleness of his skin indicated he had been dead for at least an hour or two. On the left side of his face, his face had become discoloured, and red and purple blotches were on his face.

"Maggie, stop looking at him," Fred whispers, still trying to turn her head away. "It's not going to change anything"

Maggie's sobs echo through the forest as Hermione points her wand in the air, red sparks illuminating the forest like a flare.

"He did this," Maggie sobs. "He did this. It's my fault"

"Who, Maggie?" George asks.

"Maggie, stop talking," Fred hisses in her ear. "You need to stop talking"

"It's my fault," Maggie cries. "I could have stopped this"

"Maggie," Fred stares into her eyes, clutching her chin. "The Ministry will be conducting an investigation, you need to stop talking right now"

"Let's get her out of here," George murmurs. "They can speak to her once she's calmed down. Hagrid, tell them Maggie will speak to them later, she's in shock right now. The last thing she needs is people interrogating her"

"Yeah, 'course," Hagrid nods. "Look after her you two"

The twins begin to move slowly, guiding Maggie away from the tragic scene. The haunting image of her grandfather's lifeless body lingers in the air, sucking all positive emotions from Maggie's body.

As they walk away, Fred continues to murmur soothing words to Maggie, trying to shield her from the harsh reality that has unfolded. George is holding her left hand in his right, remaining quiet but his presence is enough for Maggie.

As the trio crosses the ground, the twins basically carrying a silent Maggie, they are met halfway by a clearly frazzled Professor McGonagall. The woman's stern demeanour softens as she takes in the scene before her.

The sight of Maggie, being supported by Fred and George, her eyes red and haunted, tugs at the professor's normally composed exterior. She nods at the twins, acknowledging their silent understanding of the situation.

"Come along, all of you," McGonagall instructs, her voice a mixture of authority and concern.

As they walk towards the castle, the trio follows the Professor, the weight of the recent events palpable in the air. The journey towards McGonagall's office is filled with a sombre silence, only broken by the occasional murmur of reassurance from Fred.

Maggie had said nothing since they left her grandfather's dead body. She seemed lost inside her own mind. Her face is blank as her eyes stare head as if searching for answers to questions that only she knows.

Upon reaching McGonagall's office, the door creaks open, revealing a room adorned with shelves of books, magical artefacts, and the stern yet comforting presence of the professor. She gestures for them to enter, her eyes never leaving Maggie.

"Please, have a seat," McGonagall says, gesturing towards the chairs in front of her desk.

Fred and George guide Maggie to sit, the former opting to stand behind Maggie as George sits next to her.

As they settle in, McGonagall takes a moment before addressing Maggie directly. "Miss McKinnon, I understand that this has become an incredibly difficult time for you. Your well-being is our priority now, and I will personally provide all the support you need."

Maggie's distant gaze doesn't waver as McGonagall continues, "The Ministry will be handling the investigation. I will do everything in my power to ensure you have the space and assistance necessary during this trying period. They will want to ask you questions as part of the investigation"

"They shouldn't question her until the tournament is finished," Fred says. "She's already going to be distracted, them grilling her will not help her. It will put her in danger"

"I agree with you, Mr Weasley. I will pass this idea on to Professor Dumbledore and I'm sure he will agree,"

Fred gives a tight-lipped nod, appreciating McGonagall's understanding of the delicate situation. Maggie, still lost in her own thoughts, barely registers the conversation around her. George, on the other hand, remains a steadfast presence by her side, a silent pillar of support.

"As for now," McGonagall continues, "Madam Pomfrey will be here shortly to make sure you're physically well, Miss McKinnon"

The door opens once again, and Madam Pomfrey, the school medic, enters the room with a concerned expression. She approaches Maggie and gently begins to assess her, casting healing spells to ensure there are no immediate physical injuries.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall says, turning her attention back to the trio. "If she needs anything at all, no matter how frivolous, come to my office, send a student or an owl. Anything, anytime"

"Thank you, Professor," Maggie rasps out, her throat sore from the screams that had torn from her body.

"You do not have to thank me, Miss McKinnon."

"

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