ღ chapter twenty five
( perfect prefect )
JULES FELT AS though she had barely gotten any sleep when she was being shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley, crowded onto a mattress on the floor with Hermione in a tangle of limbs in Ginny's room. It was what felt like the best sleep of the week or so since the wedding, when Jules had seen the woman in her room. She'd constantly seen her all over the mansion after that, and it meant uneasy sleep.
"Time to go, Jules, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered, moving away to wake Ginny, Hermione stirring next to Jules.
Too sleepy to really say anything, Jules got dressed, pulling on a fitted violet shirt and dark, loose denim trousers, slinging her leather jacket over, and lacing her boots, glancing at Hermione and Ginny, who looked equally sleepy as she felt. She let them use the bathroom after quickly brushing her teeth and washing her face, as she rimmed her eyes with charcoal black, and smudged her lips with peony pink lipstick, fastening the dainty heirloom locket her father had gifted her around her neck.
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, when they arrived in the kitchen downstairs. He looked up as the children entered, the boys filing in with the girls, and spreading 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, Harry?"
"Yeah," Harry replied.
"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" George stammered, failing to stifle a huge yawn.
"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" Mrs. Weasley sighed, 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."
Jules gratefully accepted a bowl of porridge, adding two spoonfuls of brown sugar, and some blueberries from the plate of fruit Mrs. Weasley had just set down.
"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes.
"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr. Weasley sighed.
"Walk?" Harry questioned. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"
"No, no, that's miles away," Mr. Weasley smiled. "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 sharply, 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 muttered, "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!" Mrs. Weasley raged 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!"
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!"
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," Mrs. Weasley sighed, "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."
Harry, Ron, Jules, Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley 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.
"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" Harry asked.
"It's been a massive organizational problem," Mr. Weasley sighed. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains — remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."
Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. "What sort of objects are Portkeys?" Harry asked curiously, Jules laughing as she overheard.
"Well, they can be anything," Mr. Weasley explained. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them, stuff they'll just think is litter."
They trudged down the dark 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 the deepest shade of blue. Juliet'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 tuffets of grass. Each breath Jules took was sharp in her chest and her legs were starting to seize up when, at last, her feet found level ground.
"Whew," Mr. Weasley panted, 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," Mr. Weasley sighed, 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!" Mr. Weasley smiled, striding over to the man who had shouted as 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," Mr. Weasley introduced. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts, and as the girls of her year liked to refer to him, the 'perfect prefect with enviable hair.'
"Hi," Cedric said, looking around at them all, his sharp gaze lingering on the crevices of Juliet's face for a moment. Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating Gryffindor in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos 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 three Weasley boys, Harry, Jules, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"
"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley replied, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's-, and Harry, another friend, er, and Juliet, you must know her mother Cordelia, she works with your wife."
"Merlin's beard," Amos Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter? And Juliet Black?"
"Er- yeah," Harry said at the same time as Jules. She was beginning to get used to the stares, and Harry had explained gravely that it did never get easier.
"Ced's talked about you Harry, of course," Amos Diggory smiled. "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!"
Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed. "Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you that it was an accident."
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Amos roared 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!"
"He was knocked off because of a dementor!" Jules said very quickly, her fists balled.
"Ah, I see. And how is your mother darling? She must be terrified with, er, well your father running around loose, still don't know how he managed to escape once more," Amos said kindly.
Jules held back a chuckle. "She's doing well. She'd finished auror training during the war, before she had me and switched to being a healer, since many requirements were fulfilled already, but now that I'm old enough, she's going back."
It was true, Cordelia was now an auror, on Dumbledore's orders. There had been multiple members of the Order working as aurors back during the war, and now that there were rumors about Voldemort gaining power once more, Dumbledore wanted someone trustworthy there. Plus, with Sirius supposedly on the run, they needed someone on the inside who could steer the aurors away from him.
"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley said 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," Mr. Diggory replied. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," Mr. Weasley nodded. "Yes, it's a minute off... We'd better get ready."
He looked around at Harry and Hermione, the only two who didn't know how the Portkey worked. "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. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now- ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting for something.
It happened immediately: Jules felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Ginny and Hermione on either side of her, their shoulders banging into her own; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then-
Her feet slammed into the ground; Hermione staggered into her and fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near Harry's head with a heavy thud.
Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill."
( AUTHOR NOTE )
hope you enjoyed <333