"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!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.
Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy-looking old boot in his other hand. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"
"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all. Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. "Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked. "Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"
"Excuse me" just then three figures walked out of the woods behind the Diggory's. They appeared as three young men one look around Fred and George's age another Percy's and the last looked the oldest by a few years. "Just wondering do you have the portkey" the youngest said as he flashed a small smile as he placed his rucksack on the ground. "Yes, got it right here" said Amos Diggory with a cheerful tone.
Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?" "Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -" "Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?" "Er - yeah," said Harry. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.
"Take a picture it'll last longer" suddenly the youngest of the new arrivals snorted at the elder of the Diggory's. "Excuse me!" Amos said caught slightly off guard. "You heard me" he responded with the same happy tone as he walked past the Diggory's. "Irving, nice to finally meet you, we all owe you a great debt." The youngest stretched an open had to Harry. Harry cautiously took the hand and noticed that he kept constant eye contact. Harry wasn't sure if this was to show courtesy or to intimidate, but if it was the latter his eyes certainly did the trick. Harry was entranced by these hypnotic golden orbs staring back at him.
"These are Alexander and Octavian my older brothers. And they are…" Harry was suddenly snapped back to reality. "Oh this is Ron, Fred, George and Ginny, there farther Arthur and Hermione Granger" Harry quickly stammered out. Irving walked past him toward Hermione and Ginny and with a kiss placed on each hand he said "It's always a pleasure to meet such beautiful creatures" causing the entirety of the party to turn scarlet, though some for different reasons than others.
"Must be nearly time," coughed Mr. Weasley with a slight glare at Irving. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?" He said quickly, pulling out his watch again. "No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?" "Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off ... We'd better get ready..."
He looked around at Harry and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -" With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the twelve 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 Muggles were to walk up here now ... twelve people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting...
"Three. . ." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, two. . . one. . ." It happened immediately. Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his. They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour, his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then -
His feet slammed into the ground; Ron staggered into him and he fell over, the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud. Harry looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground except Irving and his brothers.
Harry stood to see the three of them standing a few yards ahead with not but a hair out of place. Suddenly harry was taken of guard "Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.