CHAPTER TWO
✧
-: fourth year :-
── IN WHICH THEY SET OFF
FOR THE CUP
. . .
MRS WEASLEY WAS FURIOUS. Hermione was quick to come up with reason to escort herself, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Emily away from the row between the mother and the two teens, and the five of them began up the winding stairs up to Ron's room at the very top of the house.
"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they walked slowly upwards. Ron, Ginny and Emily let out a laugh. Hermione didn't, however, and looked quite disapproving.
"Oh, it's wonderful, Harry." Emily shook her head. "They've been writing to me about it all summer."
"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," Ron told the boy quietly. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that... Fred said you gave them the idea for the fake wands."
"If you wave them the right way then they make red sparks." She informed him. "It wasn't really my idea though, I was watching telly and my mum was looking through some of my old books to give away to a friend and when they asked I thought it would be nice for some of their younger future customers. You know, kids." She shrugged.
"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," Ginny shrugged, looking slightly proud of them, something which was contrasted in its entirety by the look on Hermione's face."We thought they just liked the noise."
"Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," Ron said with a frown, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it and burned all the order forms... She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected."
"And then there was this big row," Ginny said, "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop."
They had come to a natural stop to listen to the pair as they recounted the major disagreements of the Burrow that summer. Just then a door on the second landing opened, and another ginger-haloed face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.
"Hi Percy," Harry noticed the older brother first, and they turned to look at him.
"Oh hello, Harry," Percy greeted. Behind the glasses, eyes flickered over to the unfamiliar head of platinum hair. "Emily." He added, with a curt nod. "I was wondering who was making all that noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know - I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when some people keep thundering up and down the stairs, shouting about trunks and-"
"We're not thundering," Ron scowled. "We're walking. So sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."
"What are you working on?" Emily asked. She didn't know a lot about the Ministry of Magic, really, and as much as she didn't care much for it after such an aggressive campaign against Sirius and the limitations it put on poor Professor Lupin, but it was more of an attempt to satiate Percy's annoyance. It was evident that he was mighty proud of his job there and after knowing him at Hogwarts, she knew exactly the type of person he was. Perhaps, she hoped, it would help them bypass his anger.
"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Percy replied with a certain smugness; Emily had been right, he was more than pleased to begin talking about his job, and for a moment he calmed down. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year-"
"That'll change the world, that report will," Ron's voice was dripping with heavy sarcasm. Emily elbowed him, but he only continued. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."
Percy went slightly pink. "You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger-"
"Yeah, yeah, all right," Ron cut him off, and he started off upstairs again and the others followed him upwards. Percy slammed his bedroom door as they left and the five made their way up a further three flights of stairs. As they reached the landing just outside Ron's attic room, more, louder shouts came from the kitchen below. It appeared as though Mrs Weasley had found out about the toffees, and from what Emily had just heard from Ron and Ginny, the upset wouldn't just end there. With nothing they could do about it but wince and move on, Emily reached for the door handle and pushed it open.
She had been in Ron's room a couple of times before and it had seemingly remained the same; Chudley Cannons and Gryffindor posters on the wall, including an old banner from their first year that Dean had drawn, red duvet covers printed with tiny brooms, a fish tank on the windowsill with one rather large frog within. However, as familiar as it was, Emily had never seen it quite so full. Four mattresses and camping beds had been set up on the floor and covered the entirety of space with little room to edge between them all. And she hadn't seen the tiny grey owl in a cage before, twittering madly and hopping around the cage on top of Ron's bookshelf.
"Shut up, Pig," Ron murmured, still annoyed, as he began to edge between some of the beds to make way to his own. "Fred and George are in here with us as well, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," Ron explained the busyness. "I don't know how on earth Mum figured that you should be in her as well, Em, but Ginny's room is too small to get anyone else in. Somehow, it's been worked out that you get the bed."
"I should hope so." Emily joked, scanning the room and finding a pile of Chudley Cannons merchandise shoved under one of the camping beds, besides which was his chest of drawers and on top of that, her altar. "If I have to deal with all you lot for a night then I deserve the bed."
"I reckon Mum agrees then," Ginny commented.
"There was no arguing about it, I tell you." Ron shook his head, disappointed. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."
"Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked him, changing the topic.
"Because he's being stupid," Ginny shook her head. "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon."
"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that." Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. Ron was lying; there was a fondness in his eyes similar to that used to be how he looked about Scabbers, who he complained endlessly about.
"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked.
"Out in the garden, I expect," Hermione replied.. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before. My mum doesn't really like him running around our back garden, left a mouse on the doorstep once and she's never forgiven him, poor thing."
"The mouse or the cat?" Emily asked, the girl signalling the latter. "Well it's only natural for cats to hunt... we have far too many running about the cottage but if you put a collar on him - and I know he'll hate it - but it'll stop him from catching anything." She shrugged. "Easy."
"We tried that, but he managed to get it off within five minutes." Hermione despaired.
"Percy's enjoying work, then?" Harry said, staking a claim on one of the beds and sitting down on it, eyes drifting between the moving Chudley Cannon posters - their Seeker was circling over a pitch, looping around - and Emily, as she clambered over onto Ron's bed where he sat as well, grumbling about how he had to give it up that evening.
"Enjoying it?" Ron repeated. "Understatement of the century. I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr Crouch.... as I was saying to Mr Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion... Mr Crouch was telling me... They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." His speech was punctuated by an exaggerated tone and intense rolling of eyes, and Hermione shook her head.
"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" Hermione redirected the question, because as much as it seemed people would agree with Ron that Percy's obsession with his boss was annoying, after the encounter in the hallway it was easy to see that the topic at hand got Ron more riled up than necessary. . There was no need for her to ask Emily; they had seen each other twice over the months they were apart and had exchanged enough letters to make up a book or two. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"
"Yeah, thanks a lot," Harry nodded. "They saved my life, those cakes." Emily-Anne had spent half her summer baking and coming up with ideas of food to send to Harry and had enjoyed it immensely but hated that it even needed to be done in the first place. It was nice seeing Hedwig so often then, and whilst Sirius was staying with them he had managed to sneak an extra letter in amongst the biscuits and loaves of bread Emily had made him.
"And have you heard from-?" Ron began, but with a look from Hermione and Emily reaching, not quite discreetly, to kick him gently, he fell silent.
"I think they've stopped arguing," Hermione strained to listen through the multiple floors of the house in an attempt to cover the awkward moment because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry and Emily. "Should we go down and help your mum with lunch?"
✧
Hours later and they found themselves helping Mrs Weasley with dinner. They were eating outside, because there simply wasn't enough room for twelve to eat within the Burrow and despite the mother's best efforts to stop Harry, Hermione and Emily from doing too much, they all managed to find jobs to do, whether that was helping with the cooking, setting the table or helping Bill and Charlie actually set up the table. Emily had abandoned her's in due time; Crookshanks had resurfaced from his day-long hunt of gnomes in the long grass surrounding the home and instead sat within him on the doorstep as people rushed by, a hand lazily stroking between his ears until she was called to help carry out the dishes; chicken and ham pie, mashed potatoes, and varying pots of vegetables.
Despite the arguments that had shaken the Burrow right through to its bearings earlier that day, dinner was a miraculously harmonious affair. Fred and George slunk down behind Percy, making faces as they mimicked him talking about his cauldron problem, and sat on the other end of the table to their mother, to try and ensure no more clashes. Percy continued to spew information about his job, his father enduring the brunt of it all, managing to defer the line of conversation instead to opinions on Ludo Bagman and how he helped them score such good tickets to the match. Interestingly enough, this led to Emily listening in on his recount of Bathilda Bagshot's disappearance and, furthermore, a top-secret international event that Percy was obviously dying for someone to ask about, just so he could reassert his power as a Ministry worker above them.
Unwilling to do just that, Emily-Anne turned her attention instead to helping Bill in his campaign against his mother's wishes to cut his hair, and when Molly gave in, she became aware that to her left, Charlie, Fred and George were talking rather quickly about the outcome of the World Cup. She too, agreed that as much as she would want Ireland to win - and they did flatten Peru in their last match, Bulgaria had Krum.
It seemed, even when the food was finished and the dishes scraped empty by the large family and their guests, that there was no intention of going to bed any time soon. Mr Weasley had torn himself away from Percy's never-ending drivel about the Ministry to summon many candles from within the house and lit them with a sweep of his wand. In the growing darkness of dusk overlapping the garden, they created a warm glow to blanket them all, and, as Emily curled up on her chair, head resting on Harry's shoulder as the weariness of the day began to take over her, the topic of conversation turned to Sirus, hushed tones discussing how much he had written to Harry over the summer interrupted by Mrs Weasley sending them all up to bed; they had an early morning the next day, and they needed to pack a small bag for their overnight stay, too.
Emily, admittedly, slept rather well in Ron's bed, and awoke to Mrs Weasley gently shaking her shoulder. "Time to go, Emily, dearest." The woman whispered, and as she blinked awake and sat up, yawning, she saw several lumps among the beds on the floor sitting up too. As she used the bathroom on the floor below the boys changed, they packed once they returned and after the boys left for breakfast she changed - a pair of flowy linen trousers and a green top patterned with various patches of the moon and stars - and joined them below.
Mr Weasley was sat at the breakfast table wearing a very old pair of jeans and a golfing jumper and leafing through a pile of large parchment tickets, taking out three - it became evident from the discussion at hand, that Bill, Charlie and Percy were Apparating there.
"Why can't we Apparate too?" Fred groaned, stifling yet another moan. "What?" He asked when he saw Emily looking.
"I'd rather not Apparate," Emily said. "And you and George have horrendous cases of bedhead. Did neither of you look in a mirror yet?"
"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," Mrs Weasley snapped, still bitter and having not heard Emily's comments. "And where have those girls got to?" She asked under her breath, bustling out to go and find them.
"Bedhead?" George repeated with yet another yawn. "Nah, this is the latest fashion, obviously."
"Obviously."
"Come here." Emily sighed, reaching into her bag to find her hairbrush. The two twins didn't stand up, and instead shifted their chairs closer to where they were, and let her sort out the mess of ginger. "Harry, you too - how has Ron got the only neat hair? Usually, it's sticking up all over the place."
Harry stood up and took George's chair, and the latter did the same, and Emily listened with interest as he asked Mr Weasley about Apparation, and felt a little sick when the man told them all about the dangers of it, particularly what happened to a pair just the other day. Splinching sounded horrific, and it only worsened her disliking of Apparition of the side-along from the day before. It made her heart beat too fast for liking, her skin inch and sweat and her insides twist into knots, and the thought that a part of her could be left behind if it went wrong... it was too horrible to think about.
"Were they okay?" Harry asked, startled.
"Oh yes," Mr Weasley said, rather 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." Emily could find herself agreeing with this; when she had made the team her mother had put together enough money to buy her the older model of a Cleansweep Seven, and she adored it dearly, trusting it to get her anywhere.
"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?"
"Charlie had to take the test twice," Fred grinned. "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," Mrs Weasley as she marched back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.
"Percy only passed two weeks ago," said George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since just to prove he can." There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy.
"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sat down on Emily's offered lap; there weren't enough chairs for all of them, and Hermione was more than happy to take the last one..
"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr Weasley replied.
"Really?" Emily looked more awake than she had all morning, and instantly her thoughts went to bringing along a couple of pouches and collecting them as she went. She knew Ottery St. Catchpole was, whilst a primarily Muggle settlement, had quite the number of magical families living within its area, and surely there would be plenty of plants she could get cuttings of along the way. "How far?" She asked.
"What, are we walking to the World Cup?" Harry asked. He looked far more concerned than Emily did, and Ginny was giving her the look of a very tired attempt at judgement
"No, no, that's miles away," Mr Weasley dismissed, 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!" Mrs Weasley interrupted, and they all jumped.
"What?" George replied, 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 coloured 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!" Mrs Weasley held 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!" It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs Weasley managed to find them all. "Accio! Accio! Accio!" she 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!"
Not much more was said as they ate their bowls of porridge, and Mrs Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr Weasley on the cheek, and attempted to look cheery to the rest of them as she said her goodbyes. The twins had hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and left without a word to her, ignoring her calls asking to behave themselves.
"I'll send Bill, Charlie and Percy along around midday." Molly continued. "Have a lovely time, I'm sure it'll be an event to remember - and I'll send your mother a letter right away." She promised Emily, before she, Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley followed behind them. It was chilly, and she was glad she had decided to wear trousers, albeit linen ones, rather than the pair of shorts she had packed certain she would need them later in the day. The moon still hung high above them and Emily found herself looking upwards towards her far to often, ignoring the dull tinge along the horizon that meant daybreak was drawing ever closer.
Mr Weasley was telling Harry about the ins and outs of how they got around the whole Muggle problem surrounding such a large-scale event and Emily fell into step alongside the still upset twins, deciding she didn't care all too much about the staggered arrival with the tickets system, deciding that she wouldn't have minded so much if they had cheaper tickets and camped for two weeks beforehand.
"It's typical." Fred was grumbling as he and George separated, Emily slotting in between. "Charlie works with dragons, Bill's a curse-breaker but God forbid we open a prank shop."
"She's seen how successful Zonko's is," George added. "We spent so long on those stupid toffees and for what?"
"For this, perhaps?" Emily held up the toffee she had managed to sneak away from the prank on Dudley. "It's one of a kind now, sell it for triple the price."
Fred plucked it from her fingertips as though she had found gold. "You're a lifesaver." He hummed. "Reckon we can figure out the recipe from this, Georgie?"
"I reckon we can do, Freddie." His brother had a rather similarly elated expression. "Mum made us burn our recipes when she found the order forms."
It wasn't long after Emily's saving of the Ton-Tongue Toffees that they arrived at Stoadhead's Hill, having trudged through a silent Ottery St. Catchpole as dawn began to break on the horizon. It was a diifficult climb; the hill was considerably steep, and the incline was covered in hidden rabbit holes and the tuffets of grass covered with dew, making it rather easy to slip and lose their footing. Even Emily, who had traipsed around farmers' fields and up and down her own lane for the entirety of the summer struggled and as they finally reached level ground, the twins were pulling her up and her chest was heaving, taking in quick, heavy breaths.
"You didn't mention this, Mr Weasley." She complained, feeling her heart thud in her ears.
"We all made it just fine." The father took off his glasses and wiped them on his jumper. "We've made good time as well, we've got ten minutes." Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. "Now we just need to find the Portkey. It won't be big... come on."
They spread out as instructed, and began scouring the hilltop for something that any Muggle would easily miss - a piece of rubbish, an old jumper, a glove. However, thankfully after a couple of minutes, their search was halted by a shout disrupting the huffing and puffing of them still trying to catch their breath as their eyes strained against the dark ground.
"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, the beginnings of dawn raising behind them
"Amos!" Mr Weasley smiled as he strode over to the pair. The rest of them followed dutifully behind him, watching as Mr Weasley seized the hand of the awaiting ruddy-faced wizard with the joy of a man who hadn't been awake since before the dawn. Amos beamed with similar vigour as he returned the handshake. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr Weasley told them all, "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
Emily did indeed know Cedric. Despite him being the Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and their Gryffindor's rival in every way, but that hadn't stopped the slowly growing crush that she and a number of other girls around the school had on him - he was strikingly good-looking, not even Emily could deny that, and so naturally she smiled prettily and returned his greeting with the rest of them Fred and George didn't say anything though, they had never quite forgiven him for the outcome of last year's Quidditch match again Hufflepuff.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.
"Not too bad," Mr Weasley replied. "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, looks like I got off easy..." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the group of them, looking particularly concerned - in the nicest way possible. "All these yours, Arthur?"
"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr Weasley shook his head, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, a friend of Ron's, Emily, also a friend - and Harry, another friend -"
"Merlin's beard," Amos Diggory, eyes widened. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Er - yeah," Harry said, awkwardly. He was more than used to the stares of people trying to get a good look, as though they were trying to commit his appearance to memory, scar and all, in case he disappeared right before their eyes. It made him uncomfortable, to say the least, and Emily edged towards him and nudged his arm. He nodded, discreetly, knowing what she meant.
"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!" Nobody said anything to this; the three members of the Quidditch team that weren't Harry - for he was too polite enough to openly express his displeasure in hearing this - were scowling as though they had been insulted directly.
Cedric looked embarrassed. "Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you... it was an accident... the Dementors"
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Amos roared, 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!"
"Must be nearly time," Mr Weasley said quickly, because Fred and George were looking murderous, and he pulled 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," Mr Diggory replied. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," Mr Weasley shook his head. "Yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready... He looked at Emily, Harry and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do."
With great 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. Behind them, the sun sat just above the horizon. Nobody spoke.
"Three..." muttered Mr Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two.. one ..."
As soon as the word left his mouth, Emily felt the earth pulled from beneath her feet as though it was nothing but a rug, head spinning and stomach twisting and she could feel people's shoulders slamming into hers. They sped through what seemed to be a howl of wind and swirling colours, and as much as the sensation had felt uncomfortable in the beginning, Emily began to enjoy this magical way of travel. Much more than Aparating, anyway. She clutched to the old boot with a finger and her thumb until all of a sudden her feet slammed into the ground and all of a sudden it was over.
They had left Devon far behind and, well, Emily couldn't see for the mist, but they had made it.
✧
a/n
i think there
might possibly start to
be some draco in the next
chapter, so i'm excited to
explore that - they might only
start as sightings, but
hopefully a bit more than
that soon! <33