Amisty tapped the wolf on the head, throwing the crumpled piece of parchment into the bin as she watched the the tiny glass wolf transform back into the shiny wooden box.
She tucked it away in her pocket, walking with Hermione up to their shared room.
"Mrs. Weasley got all our supplies for us, all your's is on your bed," The brunette informed her, still slightly peeved with the argument downstairs.
They set to work, unwrapping everything in the bags and tucking them away into their trunks. She took care in wrapping up her new quills and ink, not wanting them to break on the way to Hogwarts.
Just as she was about to pack up her potion supplies, Mrs. Weasley knocked on the door and walked in with a pile of folded laundry and a package.
"Here's your Hogwarts robes," She smiled at them, separating the clothes into two piles and setting them on their beds. "Hermione, I know you've already bought your dress with your parents. Amisty, your father sent yours this morning."
"What?" Amisty asked, looking up in confusion.
"Your dress. It was your mother's," Mrs. Weasley replied gently, pressing the package into her hands.
"Oh..." Amisty's voice was faint, she couldn't entirely process what was happening.
Mrs. Weasley gave her a tight, reassuring hug before excusing herself to go give the boys their robes.
"Am, are you okay?" Hermione asked hesitantly, looking over her stack of books at her raven-haired friend.
"Never better," Amisty beamed, staring down at the paper-wrapped package in her hands.
-=+=-
The next morning was rather gloomy, rain pounding against the windows as the girls changed into casual clothes.
Amisty did a last minute check of her trunk before hurrying downstairs, her stomach grumbling when --
"Arthur! Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs, looking stressed. Mr. Weasley flew past, his robes on backward as he raced toward the kitchen.
She hesitantly followed after him, walking into the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley tearing through the drawers and Mr. Weasley leaning over the fire and talking to... the head of Mr. Diggory.
"I've got a quill here somewhere!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed from where she was standing.
"...Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems -- please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there -- " Mr. Diggory was speaking, his voice very fast.
"Here!" Mrs. Weasley shoved a piece of parchment, quill, and bottle of ink into Mr. Weasley's hands.
" -- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it. I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off -- if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur -- "
"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" Mr. Weasley asked, quill poised to begin taking notes.
"Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins," Mr. Diggory replied, rolling his eyes.
"What did the dustbins do?" Mr. Weasley asked, the sound of the quill scratching feverishly reaching Amisty's ears.
"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell. Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up -- " Mr. Diggory continued.
Mr. Weasley groaned, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "And what about the intruder?"
"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye. Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot gets their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it -- think of his record -- we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department -- what are exploding dustbins worth?" Mr. Diggory rolled his eyes once more.
"Might be a caution. Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window, but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties," Mr. Diggory sighed.
"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley got to his feet, shoving his notes into his pocket and running upstairs.
"Sorry about this, Molly, bothering you so early and everything... but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night..." Mr. Diggory rambled.
"Never mind, Amos. Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?" Mrs. Weasley waved him off with a hand.
"Oh go on, then," Mr. Diggory nodded as best he could, being a floating head and all.
Mrs. Weasley picked up a pair of fire tongs and secured a piece of buttered toast in them before moving it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.
"Fanks," His voice was muffled as he spoke around the toast, and then his head disappeared with a pop. Mr. Weasley was calling his goodbyes to everyone and was back downstairs and running a comb through his hair.
"I'd better hurry -- you have a good term," Mr. Weasley smiled at them, fastening on his cloak. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"
"Of course I will. You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine," Mrs. Weasley reassured.
"Did someone say Mad-Eye? What's he been up to now?" Bill asked, walking into the kitchen with Charlie.
"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," Mrs. Weasley informed him.
"Mad-Eye Moody? Isn't he that nutter -- " George began, spreading marmalade on his toast.
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," Mrs. Weasley scolded, hands on hips.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he? Birds of a feather..." Fred mumbled as Mrs. Weasley left the room.
"Moody was a great wizard in his time," Bill replied.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore, isn't he?" Charlie added.
"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he? I mean, I know he's a genius and everything..." Fred pointed out.
"Who is Mad-Eye?" Harry asked finally.
"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry. I met him once when Dad took me in to work with him. He was an Auror -- one of the best... a Dark wizard catcher. 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. Sees Dark wizards everywhere," Charlie explained.
He and Bill would be coming with them to Kings Cross, Percy was staying behind.
"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment. Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me," He explained after an excessive amount of apologies.
"Yeah, you know what, Percy? I reckon he'll know your name soon," George replied, sounding entirely serious.
Mrs. Weasley had gotten three ordinary Muggle taxies to drive them to the train station.
"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us. But there weren't any to spare..." Amisty heard Mrs. Weasley whisper to Harry as she helped them load the trunks into the taxis. "Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"
Once they were all crammed in, it wasn't comfortable whatsoever.
Pigwidgeon was screeching noisily, and when Fred's trunk sprang open there was a loud bang as his Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks went off.
The poor driver's leg was clawed up as Crookshanks jumped. By the end of it all, they were all covered with scratches.
Amisty nearly jumped out of the taxi, not caring that she was soaked in the five seconds she was outside as she dragged her trunk into the station.
They leaned against the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters, falling through and being greeted by the familiar scarlet steam engine.
They set off to find seats, stowing their luggage into a compartment and then jumping off to say their goodbye's to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie grinned, hugging Ginny goodbye.
"Why?" Fred asked, leaning forward slightly.
"You'll see. 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," Charlie replied vaguely.
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," Bill nodded, staring at the train.
"Why?" George asked, sounding annoyed.
"You're going to have an interesting year. I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..." Bill continued with the infuriating vagueness.
"A bit of what?" Ron was almost hissing. But then the train whistled, and Mrs. Weasley ushered them to the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione leaned out the window of the closed door.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," Harry added.
"It was really fun!" Amisty beamed.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears. 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," She smiled.
"Mum! What d'you three know that we don't?" Ron asked sharply.
"You'll find out this evening, I expect. It's going to be very exciting -- mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -- " Mrs. Weasley replied.
"What rules?" All the boys asked together.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you... Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?" Mrs. Weasley gave the twins a pointed look.
The pistons hissed and the train began its trek to Hogwarts.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts! What rules are they changing?" Fred shouted out the window.
They didn't reply, only smiling and waving as they sped away. When they rounded the corner, they all had Disapparated.
The four of them walked over to their compartment, and Ron immediately undid his trunk and covered Pigwidgeon's cage with a strange looking maroon dress.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts. At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what -- " Ron began, grumbling.
"Shh!" Amisty hissed, pointing at the open compartment door.
Draco's drawling voice was floating over toward them.
"...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 -- " Amisty cringed, "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 defense rubbish we do..."
Hermione went and closed the door, blocking out his voice. "So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he? I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Durmstrang's another Wizarding school?" Harry asked.
"Yes, and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark arts," Hermione replied.
"I think I've heard of it. Where is it? What country?" Ron asked.
"Well, nobody knows, do they?" Hermione's eyebrows raised.
"Er -- why not?"
"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," Hermione replied.
"Come off it. Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts -- how are you going to hide a great big castle?" Ron laughed.
"But Hogwarts is hidden. Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts: A History, anyway," Hermione pointed out.
"Just you, then. So go on -- how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" Ron asked.
"It's bewitched. 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," Hermione explained.
"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?" Amisty asked curiously.
"Maybe, 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 -- " Hermione shrugged.
"Come again?" Harry asked.
"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"
"Er... if you say so."
"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north. Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms," Hermione speculated.
"Ah, think of the possibilities. It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident... Shame his mother likes him..." Ron sighed wistfully.
Amisty laughed, but she couldn't help from wondering if Draco hadn't been telling the truth in his letter.