"Honestly, girls you've got to get moving!"
Suddenly the nice, dark bedroom was peirced by the orange light of dawn as Mrs. Thimbleword opened the blinds.
From somewhere amoungst the sea of fluffy white blanket, Jill groaned.
"You have to be out the door in half an hour, do you hear me?"
I opened one eye lazily.
The large, four poster bed that Jill and I were nested in stood, bathing in the glow.
The room was chilly, as it was late summer, and the thought of getting out of the cozy comforter was the least friendly thought in my mind.
The smell of coffee and cinnamon wafted up through the open door, kissing my nose.
Beside me, Jill's arms rose in a very large stretch.
"Why in bloody hell did we go to sleep at 3?"
I didn't answer. But then, she wasn't really expecting one.
With a withered, pathetic sigh, I rolled out of bed and groped groggily for my slacks.
--
By some miracle, half an hour later, I was dressed and heading out of the house with Jillian and her father.
Mr. Thimbleword was Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes at the Ministry. He had gotten the tickets to the Quidditch World Cup (to which we were now headed) from his friend, Mr. Nickelby, over at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
"Come along, girls, keep up! Good gracious!" Mr. Thimbleword huffed as we ascended a rather large hill.
I looked over at Jill. She was walking in a zombie- like manner with her rucksack lolling lazily off one shoulder. Her free hand clutched her thermos of coffee as if it were the Elixir of Life.
I lowered the brim of my beat up newsboy hat as the blinding dawn light popped over the peak of the hill and hit me square in the face.
Alot of thoughts ran through my mind, things I could say to Jill, but we both had this air of walking wounded about us.
It was too early for words.
The excitement of today was celebrated far too long into the night.
Our first Quidditch World Cup! Seeing our friends! Snogging our loves!
We had been wound up on butterbeer and Bertie Bott's every flavor Beans, till around 3 o clock this morning.
Ya know. 2 and a half hours ago.
"There it is girls! Over there!"
Jill and I lumbered over to where her father was standing, over a discarded car tire.
I raised my eyebrow.
Jill sighed out her nose, and kneeled down, putting a finger on the tire.
"Wash your hands when we get there." Her father advised, as he did the same.
Oh.
The tire was the portkey.
Gosh I'm slow this morning.
Taking the thermos from Jill and clutching it, I also put a finger on the portkey.
Immediately I felt a pulling sensation behind my bellybutton.
The Hillstop went hazy around us, and all I was aware of was the tickling sensation of falling.
As suddenly as it had started, the tickling sensation stopped, and I was flung onto solid ground with such force that the wind was knocked out of me.
"Bloody..." I groaned, trying to breathe as best I could.
Jill sat up a few yards away, whimpering and rubbing her back.
"I bet that was a waker upper." Grinned Jill's dad, who had landed perfectly on his feet.
"Shut up." Jill snapped, brushing the dirt off her pretty red sweater.
I stood shakily, and retrieved the thermos from the ground beside me, clutching it to my breast protectively.
"So...This is the World Cup?" Jill spoke for what for some reason sounded like her first words of today.
I looked out beyond us. Miles of tents. Like a small army of fat white triangles, filled with a buzz of activiy that seemed unnartural for that time of day.
I grinned.
The air was filled with the smell of campfire, fireworks, and breakfast. It seemed somehow to compliment the laughter, song, and hum of excited fans.
I looked over at Jill. She was grinning too.
"Well, we didn't come all this way just to look at it." Mr. Thimbleword said as he set off towards the feild of tents.
You could see who Jill got her patience from.
Jill rolled her eyes and pushed her hair behind her ear as we followed her father into the beehive of actvity.
---------------
Our tent was a little on the large side, as the Thimblewords were a well respected wizarding family and her father's job at the ministry left them better off.
I walked inside, expecting something a little like the Weasley's tent.
Boy was I mistaken.
I found myself walking through the flap and into what seemed to be the living room, complete with four creamy white armchairs and a black and white tile floor.
Tapestries of varied shades of blue seemed to make up the sloping walls of the tent, casting everything in a faint bluish light. It complimented the small silver chandelier that had sent little reflections of light skittering across the rich fabric.
To the left of the sitting room was a small kitchen, with a breakfast nook comprised of off white benches with fluffy blue cushions.
Jillian huffed past me with a rather annoyed sounding "Ex-CUSE me!"
I pulled myself out of my awe stricken trance and followed her into our bunks.
As was the rest of the tent, the bunks were also exquisite.
Jill sat on the edge of the white scrolled metal canopy bed, roughly shoving her socks into a dainty nighttable drawer.
"You don't mind if I take this side, do you?" she didn't look up as she spoke.
"Not at all."
I flung my satchel down beside her and sat.
I dug through it and found the flashing four-leaf clover pin I had bought, and pinned it to my green sweater.
I was rooting for Ireland all the way.
Although, there was definitely something to be said for that burning hunk of manflesh, Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker.
I guess I didn't really mind who won, as long as I got to see it.
Jillian was already painting her face with red and black stripes.
She knew about as much about Quidditch as Hermione Granger, but she knew who Draco was rooting for, and that's all that mattered in her color selection.
"I wonder if Fred and George are here yet." I wondered out loud.
"Well. The Malfoys have been here since yesterday evening. They're going to be in the Minister's box with us."
My eyes widened.
"WHAT? We're going to be in the minister's box?!?!?! How?!"
"Well goodness we TOLD you we got the tickets from Mr. Nickelby."
I looked at her in confusion.
She sighed impatiently.
"He's one of Fudge's dearest friends. Honestly Sarah you are very dull."
I giggled happily and flopped backwards.
I probably should'nt tell Fred and George.
They might think I'm bragging.
BUT GOSH!
Minister's Box?
Wow.
---------------------
I emerged from the tent a few hours later, feeling much better after my third cup of coffee and some pancakes.
Now to find the Weasleys.
I looked around, sheepishly.
How do I find them?
Bugger.
I heard the sound of some firecrackers to my left. It gave me hope, and I started in that direction.
I mean, noise and the twins often go hand in hand.
Unfortunately that particular loud bang belonged to someone else.
As did the next.
And the next.
I looked around me in the sea of tents.
A little panicky, I took a soothing breath inwards to recollect my thoughts.
I am not lost. I am NOT lost.
I am so lost.
I quickened my pace a little.
All around me, little kids were racing around on brooms and yelling and laughing and jumping on my last nerve.
I wish I had a broom right about now.
"Sally?"
A voice had sounded directly behind me and made me jump about a thousand feet.
"George!" I sighed, throwing my arms aroud him. "How have you been? I was looking everywhere for you! I got lost! And the bloody little things whizzing around here and Where's Fred?"
"Good. Good. Haha. Damn them all and I dont know."
I stood back and looked him up and down.
"You couldnt possibly have gotten taller!"
"Youre too used to Fred. I always have been the taller and more impressive twin." He puffed out his chest.
"You wish!" Said Fred, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.
"Bloody Hell!" I shreiked, jumping again. "I'm going to put a collar with a bell on you two!"
"Nice to see you too." Grinned Fred.
I stood on my tip toes in an attempt to give him a kiss, but still only reached his bottom lip.
"I'll have to buy you a stool."
I scrunched my nose up in mock- offense.
"Ok. Well. Since we found you, what would you like to do?"
"You didn't find me!"
"Yes we did." George restated.
"What is there to do?"
"I thought you'd been here all day! Havent you been looking around?"
"Well...yes."
Fred smirked at me.
"You weren't lost were you?"
I looked up at him with a look of complete ablebodiedness.
"Of course not!"
Fred and George snickered.
"You were SO lost!"
"No!"
And thats when George put me in a headlock and I was attacked.
With tickles.
I hated being tickled, it really is painful when you don't enjoy it.
My hat fell off and I was shreiking in pained laughter.
Gosh, It was good to be back with my boys.
