Book: Courage
Chapter 44
Word Count: 4179
Mr Weasley woke the boys and girls after only a few hours sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague, "Merry Christmas."
"He'll be all right," said Mr Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while... and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."
They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"
Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.
"Arthur — I've been so worried — so worried—"
She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Layla saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"You're all right," Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive. Oh boys..."
And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.
"Ouch! Mum — you're strangling us—"
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred... George..."
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says."
When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.
"I knew it," said Mr Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security. Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace. Who wrote this? Ah... of course. Rita Skeeter."
"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans—"
"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."
"I'm mentioned," said Mr Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.
"Where?" spluttered Mrs Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"
"Not by name," said Mr Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," said Mr Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods... well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that." He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."
"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."
He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset.
"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"
"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off."
"Mrs Weasley," said Harry suddenly. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"
"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs Weasley distractedly. "No... no, there hasn't been any post at all. Oh!" she suddenly snapped out of it, turning to Layla. "Apart for you, dear. A letter arrived for you about an hour ago."
She grabbed a letter from the table, handing it to Layla, who grinned when she saw Cedric's neat scrawl.
"It's Cedric. Better go see what he said and make sure he's alright," said Layla, standing up and hurrying up the stairs to Ginny's room. She sat down on her camp bed and opened the letter.
Lay,
My father told me you were safe but I wanted to make sure myself. Are you alright? I tried to find you when it all happened but my father wanted me to get to safety.
One heck of a night, huh?
The game was alright! I won 30 galleons for betting on Ireland winning. That just means I can buy you something extra nice during our first Hogsmeade visit :)
I wouldn't want to drag you away from your friends, but I hope you will sit with me on the Hogwarts Express. I will save you a seat just in case.
See you soon!
With love,
Cedric
With a giddy smile, Layla hurried to write back.
Ced,
I was so worried about you, but I was happy when I saw your dad and he told me that you were safe. That certainly wasn't how I thought the evening would go!
You know you don't have to spend your money on me, right? I have everything that I need. You earned your 30 galleons, so use it well. I appreciate it though :)
Is that even a question? Of course I will sit with you on the Hogwarts Express. Besides, I am with my friends all day in classes. If I want to sit with you on the train, they're going to have to suck it up :)
See you soon!
With love,
Layla
Layla handed the letter to Apollo, smiling as she watched her owl fly away.
Neither Mr Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."
"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.
"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."
Mrs Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Layla liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative.
It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. 'Home,' 'school,' and 'work' were there, but there was also 'traveling,' 'lost,' 'hospital,' 'prison,' and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, 'mortal peril.'
Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the 'home' position, but Mr Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to 'work.' Mrs Weasley sighed.
"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."
"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first—"
"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs Weasley, flaring up at once.
"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"
"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me—"
"No, Mum."
Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs Weasley had bought for her, Layla, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Layla was helping Ginny mend her book, the two girls laughing and gossiping. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.
"What are you two up to?" said Mrs Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.
"Homework," said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs Weasley.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"
Everyone laughed, even Mrs Weasley.
"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.
Mr Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from 'work' to 'traveling'; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on 'home' with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.
"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs Weasley, hurrying out of the room.
A few moments later, Mr Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.
"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the fire and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."
"Mr Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.
"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr Weasley irritably.
"There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."
"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.
"If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.
"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"
"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"
"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you."
There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Layla awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as she got dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved purple top; they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.
As Hermione, Layla, and Ginny headed down, Layla could hear Mr Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the rest of the boys. The girls headed into the kitchen.
"I'd better hurry — you have a good term, girls," said Mr Weasley to Hermione, Layla, and Ginny, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"
"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."
Mr Weasley vanished.
"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now?"
"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs Weasley.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter—"
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs Weasley sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather."
"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.
"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything."
"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.
"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror — one of the best... a Dark wizard catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though... the families of people he caught, mainly... and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."
Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.
"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr Crouch is really starting to rely on me."
"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."
Mrs Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.
"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs Weasley whispered to Layla as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving seven heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare."
The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.
Layla was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. As Layla went through with Hermione, straight after Harry and Ron, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.
The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. Layla had decided to sit with her friends for the first half an hour before she would leave to find Cedric. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it... it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Layla.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Yeah, I always enjoy spending time at your house," said Layla.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but... well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with... one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting — mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules—"
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Layla, and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man's such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do."
Layla got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Layla, "and it's got a horrible reputation."
"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"
"Well, nobody knows, do they?" Hermione chimed in, raising her eyebrows.
"Er — why not?" said Harry.
"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.
"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?"
"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."
"Just you, then," said Ron. "So go on — how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"
"It's bewitched," Layla spoke again. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."
"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"
"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable—"
"Come again?"
"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"
"Er... if you say so," said Harry.
"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."
"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. Shame his mother likes him..."
The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. Soon enough, Layla was collecting her things and telling her friends that she would see them later before leaving to go find Cedric.
She eventually spotted her attractive Hufflepuff boyfriend sat in a compartment alone, practicing spells. She entered and Cedric looked over to her, grinning.
"Hey, gorgeous. I thought you'd changed your mind about sitting with me."
"Of course not," said Layla, placing her things aside and sitting down beside Cedric, greeting him with a kiss. "Where are your friends?"
"Ditched them," said Cedric with a chuckle. "You're more important. I want to spend more time with my perfect girlfriend."
"You're sweet," Layla chuckled. "But I still feel bad that you are ditching your friends for me."
"They'll get over it. Besides, I haven't had a girlfriend since second year, which lasted like three weeks, so my friends are just glad to see me so happy," said Cedric. Layla smiled at him, pressing a kiss to Cedric's cheek.
They spent the rest of the train ride practicing spells and getting to know each other better, until the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.
As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Layla said her goodbyes to Cedric with a kiss and both of them went their seperate ways to find their friends. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Layla found her friends talking to Hagrid and walked over to them.
"Hi, Hagrid!" Layla greeted.
"All righ', Layla?" said Hagrid, smiling. "See yeh lot at the feast if we don' drown!"
First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.
"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred carriages stood waiting for them outside the station, being pulled by Thestrals that only Layla and only a select few students could see.
Harry, Layla, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of the carriages, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.