Delilah felt as though she had barely lain down to sleep in Ginny's room when she was being shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley.
"Time to go, Delilah," she whispered, moving away to wake Ginny and Hermione.
Delilah sat up. It was still dark outside. Hermione groaned lightly as Mrs. Weasley roused her, but still got up.
"Is it time already?" Ginny said groggily.
They dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning slightly and stretching, the three of them headed downstairs into the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as the girls entered and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.
"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito — do I look like a Muggle, Hermione? Delilah?"
"Yeah," said Hermione, smiling.
"Very great," Delilah added through a tired grin.
"Where're Bill, Charlie, and Percy?" said Ginny.
"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" said Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."
Delilah immediately felt jealous. She knew that Apparating meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another, but had never known any Hogwarts student to do it, and understood that it was very difficult.
"So they're still in bed?" said Ginny grumpily, pulling her bowl of porridge toward her. "Why can't we Apparate too?"
"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And where have those boys got to?" She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.
"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Hermione asked.
"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves."
Everyone around the table winced.
Delilah had heard that splinching meant leaving parts of themselves behind, making them stuck. Unable to move either way.
"Were they okay?" asked Delilah.
"Oh yes," said Mr. Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms — slower, but safer."
"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"
"Charlie had to take the test twice," said Ginny, grinning. "He failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"
"Yes, well, he passed the second time," said Mrs. Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.
"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said Ginny. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can. Stupid really."
There were footsteps down the passageway and the boys all came into the kitchen, looking pale and drowsy.
"Why do we have to be up so early?" Fred said, rubbing his eyes and sitting down at the table.
"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr. Weasley.
"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"
"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup —"
"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.
"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!"
"Don't you lie to me!"
Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"
Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.
"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"
The scene was unpleasant. The twins had been trying to smuggle out as many toffees as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find almost all of them. Unbeknownst to her, Delilah had the majority of the toffees and a few of their other products. The night before she had agreed to help them sneak their products out.
"Accio! Accio! Accio!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.
"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.
"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"
All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.
"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer.
"I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Delilah, and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George. It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer.
Delilah sped up to catch up with Fred and George.
"That was a success," she whispered. "Do you want to do it again when school starts? I can give them to you on the train afterwards."
Fred turned and grinned at her.
"Yeah, that'd be great."
Delilah saw George shoot Fred an eyeroll. That was unusual, they almost always got along. She must have imagined it. They seemed just as friendly to each other as they always did.
They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Delilah's hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.
They didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tufts of grass. Each breath Delilah took was sharp in her chest and her legs were starting to seize up when, at last, her feet found level ground. She made a silent vow to try and work out more.
"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time — we've got ten minutes. . . ."
Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.
"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big. . . . Come on . . ."
They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.
"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"
Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.
"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.
Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.
"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
Cedric Diggory was the Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Delilah also noticed that he wasn't that bad looking.
"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them and giving a small, friendly wave.
Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. Probably because Cedric had beaten Gryffindor in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.
"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"
"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still... not complaining... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, it looks like I got off easy...." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Delilah, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"
"Oh no, only the redheads, minus Delilah" said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children, then Delilah. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron — and Harry, another friend —"
"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Er — yeah," said Harry awkwardly.
Honestly, you'd think people would get used to him and learn not to gawk like idiots at the sound of his name.
"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . You beat Harry Potter!"
Delilah rolled her eyes. She agreed that Cedric was good at Quidditch, but the only reason Harry had lost was because of the Dementors. Cedric seemed to feel similarly. His cheeks were flushed and he looked down.
"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you... it was an accident...."
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman... but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"
Before Delilah could point out that it wasn't exactly fair, due to the fact that one was being attacked, and the other wasn't, Mr. Weasley changed the topic. Probably smart, due to the way almost everyone was glaring at Mr. Diggory.
"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"
"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off.... We'd better get ready...."
He looked around at Harry, Delilah, and Hermione.
"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do —"
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the ten of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.
They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. Delilah suddenly realized how strange this would look if a Muggle walked up here now... ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting....
"Three..." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two... one..."
It happened immediately: Delilah felt as though a hook just behind her back had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Fred and George on either side of her, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her finger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and then—
Her feet slammed into the ground; George staggered into her and they both fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near her head with a heavy thud.
Delilah looked up. Only Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everyone else was on the ground.
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.