When I'm woken up a couple hours later, I definitely know I'm sick. I can't breathe out of my nose, and it's stuffy, my head is pounding, and my throat hurts like hell. On the way back to the portkeys, I keep my head down and I bring up the rear so no one sees how unattractive I look. We manage to get an old tire as a portkey back to Stoatshead Hill. I want nothing more than to climb into bed and go back to sleep. The others are talking about breakfast, but I'm getting nauseous and just the thought of eating makes it worse. Finally, the Burrow is in sight. We hear a cry. "Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!" I'm not surprised that Mrs. Weasley is waiting for us. She's running toward us, and it's obvious that she's been crying. "Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried -" She throws her arms around her husband's neck, and The Daily Prophet falls from her grasp. "You're all right, you're alive... oh boys..."
I am surprised when she seizes Fred and George first. She pulls them into such a tight hug that their heads bang together. "Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -" "I shouted at you before you left!" says Mrs. Weasley, sobbing. "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 O.W.Ls? Oh Fred... George..." Mr. Weasley has to pry Mrs. Weasley off of them. Then, Mrs. Weasley notices me. "Dear, you don't look so good. Are you feeling alright?" she asks, making me look at her so she can examine my face. I merely shake my head no. "You go upstairs and rest, I'll make you a Pepperup Potion," she instructs. I do as she tells me to happily. When I get to Ginny's room, I change into pajamas, lay down in my bed, and fall back asleep within minutes.
Despite giving me a Pepperup Potion, Mrs. Weasley makes me stay in bed 90% of the time, which I'm okay with doing. I'm paranoid every time I get sick that it'll be the time I'll turn into a vampire. That means that the week leading up to when we go back to Hogwarts is uneventful. Mrs. Weasley is all too willing to wait on me hand and foot even though I feel back to normal by the end of the week. When September first arrives, I insist that I get my own stuff together since Mrs. Weasley has to help everyone else. I woke up feeling a bit drained, though, so it takes me a bit longer to get ready than normal. It takes so long, in fact, that by the time I'm all packed, we have to leave for King's Cross Station.
Since the Weasleys don't have a car anymore and Mr. Weasley couldn't get Ministry cars, we have to use Muggle taxis. I volunteer to get the taxis so it'll go quicker. The ride is awful because we have overexcited owls and a cat. It feels like forever before we get to platform nine and three quarters. When we get on the train, we find an empty compartment halfway along the train, and then we go back to the platform to say goodbye. "I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," says Charlie as he hugs Ginny. "Why?" asks Fred. "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." "Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," says Bill, looking longingly at the train. "Why?" asks George impatiently. "You're going to have an interesting year. I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..." "A bit of what?" I ask. Then, the whistle blows.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione says. Harry and I repeat her sentiment. "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." "Mum!" says Ron irritably. What d'you three know that we don't?" "You'll find out this evening, I expect," says Mrs. Weasley. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -" "What rules?" asks her sons together. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you... Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?" We can feel the train begin to move. "Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts! What rules are they changing?" Fred bellows out the window. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie don't answer. Then, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I go back to our compartment.
I ignore their conversation about what the Weasleys are hiding from us as I read my textbooks - lying in bed sick made me too tired to read. Then, the conversation shifts to magical schools. "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 says. "Come off it. Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?" "Hogwarts is hidden," I interject. "Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway." "So just you and Hermione then. So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" "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." I say. "So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?" "Possible. Or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it. It'll probably be Unpolottable -" "Come again?" I sigh. "They enchant it so you can't plot it on a map." I say. "But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," Hermione says. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms." "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..." says Ron thoughtfully.
More people join us as the afternoon goes on. Dean, Seamus, Neville. They don't stay for long though. Just to talk about the Quidditch World Cup. Then, my least favorite people appear. If they hate us so much, why do they always come into our compartment?" "Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," I say cooly. "Weasley... what is that?" says Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon. Next to his cage, is the sleeve of his dress robes - that are ugly as sin. Ron goes to stuff the robes away, but Malfoy is too quick. He grabs the sleeve and pulls. "Look at this! Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..." "Eat dung, Malfoy!" says Ron, although his red complexion betrays his embarrassment. "So... going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know... you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."
"What are you talking about?" snaps Ron. "Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeats. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?" "Ron heard you perfectly well," I interject. "He was asking what do you mean by 'are you going to enter'. Either explain what the hell you're talking about or go away before I make you," I say, not moving my eyes from my book. "Don't tell me you don't know? You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago... heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry... Maybe your father's too junior to know about it Weasley... yes... they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..." Laughing, they go away. Ron slams the door angrily, causing the glass to shatter. I have to fix it. Ron's bad mood continues for the rest of the journey. Then, we arrive at the school, where it's pouring rain. That means I'm put in a bad mood because within minutes of me stepping off the train, my hair is soaking wet and my makeup - that's waterproof - is coming off, making me look like a drowned rat. Angrily, I go up to the castle with my friends in horseless carriages.
It takes us a bit longer than usual for us to get to the castle due to the rain. I spend the entire carriage ride wiping my makeup off with makeup wipes I hid in my robes - since redoing it would be a complete waste of time. When we reach the steps, we get out of the carriage and I start to wring my hair out. "Blimey," says Ron. "If that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!" Out of nowhere, a large, red, water ballon drops from the ceiling onto Ron and I. I stagger out of the way as a second one is dropped. I swear loudly. My hair is soaked, my robes are soaked, and I'm freezing cold. "PEEVES!" yells an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" I don't care about what McGonagall is going to do to Peeves. It won't do any good. I march ahead of everyone else to the Great Hall.
When I get to the Gryffindor table, I'm met by Nearly Headless Nick. "Good evening," he says, beaming at me. "Yeah right," I say bitterly as I take off my shoes and empty them of water. I don't bother putting them back on as I take my seat. A few minutes later, Fred sits next to me and the other three sit on the other side. I wish I could just clean up and go to bed. I'm not hungry, I'm just cold, tired, and wet. It feels like hours have passed by the time the first years arrive. They look even wetter than we do. I'd care more if I were in a better mood. Then, the hat breaks into song.
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are skill well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hated a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
I clap not because the song was good, but because the song is over.
It might be just my imagination, but it feels like there are more students that need to be sorted this year. It could also be because I don't feel good again. I thought Mrs. Weasley fixed it? It could be the weather though. I'm still shivering and I feel really nauseous, and Fred says I look pale again. By the time the sorting is over and food appears on the tables, it gets even worse. The smell, the noise, the sight. I can feel my nausea getting to the boiling point. Out of nowhere, I gag. Without a word to anyone, I get up and sprint as fast as I'm able to the nearest bathroom.
It's about ten minutes before I feel comfortable reemerging from the bathroom stall. Even then, I don't really want to leave the bathroom. I feel as though I've done about a hundred sit ups without a break and my mouth still tastes gross. I feel sweaty and hot despite my soaked clothes. Finally, I leave the stall and look at myself in the mirror. I still have a slightly green undertone to my complexion. I'm exhausted and, if I'm being honest, I feel physically weak. I'm so out of it that I jump when the bathroom door opens. I look and see who it is, and it's Madam Pomfrey. She's looking at me, analyzing. "I saw you run out of the Great Hall and didn't come back. I think you'd better come with me," she says. Without waiting for my response, she takes me up to the hospital wing. I've been to see her so many times in the past, I give her my updated medical history before she has to ask for it. "I don't think it's the cold, then," she says. I can hear her mumbling to herself the possibilities of what I might have. She hands me hospital garb and I put it on after I take a shower. She gives me a potion for a dreamless sleep, and it works almost instantly.