Hi, here's the second chapter- after an ages long wait. Sozzie. This chap is for my friend Bec. Yes, I know, not TheGreatFaultInFandoms. Gasp. :)
The next day, the Dursleys were getting nervous. Uncle Vernon was in his best suit. Aunt Petunia was pedantically straightening the cushions on the sofa. Dudley was quivering and looking as if something was about to come sneaking up behind him. (Well, his last encounter with a wizard had left him with a pig's tail, so I could hardly blame him.) Harry and I couldn't stand the tension, so we went upstairs and triple-checked our room for anything magical we'd left behind. "How's your scar?" I asked.
"Oh, fine. Fine." I let it go. Harry was obviously not going to talk about it. "Merlin's beard!" he shouted suddenly, making me jump. "Look!"
"What?" I cried. He pointed to his (well, our, but mainly his) invisibility cloak. It was on the floor. "Oh, for heavens' sake, Harry, don't leave that here! The Dursleys would probably chuck it away. Put it in your trunk, quick." Harry stuffed it in his trunk. "Harry, it's a quarter to 5. We ought to go down." Harry nodded, and we went downstairs. Aunt Petunia was STILL straightening the cushions. We sat on the sofa. 5 to. 5. 5 past. 10 past. "They're late." Snarled Uncle Vernon. Harry and I exchanged nervous glances. At quarter past- BANG. We all jumped. Loud noises were coming from the boarded-up fireplace. Undoubtedly Mr Weasley and Fred's voices. "Ow, Fred, no, go back, tell George…" George's voice appeared, then Ron's. "Wait!" came Mr Weasley's voice again. "Maybe Harry and Beatrice can hear us." There came a loud chorus of banging and "Harry! Bea!" from the fireplace. "MR WEASLEY!" Harry shouted. "Harry! Why can't we get out?"
"The muggles boarded up the fireplace." I explained.
"Beatrice! Boarded up the fireplace? What did they do that for? Oh well, only one thing to do. Stand back, Harry, Beatrice." I jumped back, pulling Harry with me, as the fireplace exploded, exposing a very dusty Mr, Fred, George and Ron Weasley. "Sorry," said Mr Weasley to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and then went on explaining how he'd hooked our house up to the Floo network. Fred and George offered to go and get our trunks, and I went with them.
"Bea!" They both chorused, when we were outside the door. "Where's that famous cousin of yours? We'd very much like to meet him… We have something for him." Fred grinned at me and pulled a wrapped toffee from his trouser pocket. "Fred! What's in it?" I asked, as we went upstairs. "Wait and see…" said George mysteriously. I giggled, and we went to retrieve the trunks.
When we were back downstairs, one by one we floo'ed back. Just as Fred was preparing to step into the fire, some of the toffees burst out of his pocket. He gathered most of them back up, but left one to roll near Dudley. With a wink at me, he stepped into the flames and disappeared. I was desperate to hang around and see what happened, but I had to Floo away. "Bye," I said quickly to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and stepped into the grate.
I appeared in The Burrow, where I got enveloped into a hug by Mrs Weasley. "Beatrice, dear! How are you?"
"Fine, thanks, Mrs Weasley."
A bit later (the toffee had turned out to grow Dudley's tongue to abnormal length) me, Hermione and Ginny sat in Ginny's bedroom discussing Quidditch, school and boys. Ginny and I both supported the Holyhead Harpies, and Hermione wasn't so interested in it. Gin was hoping to get on the team maybe next year. She played Chaser too. "They have that gorgeous Seeker on the Bulgaria team, Viktor Krum," said Ginny. Hermione blushed. "Hermione thinks he's gorgeous too." I said, grinning.
"Shut up!" she said, swatting me.
"Ha ha."
The next morning, we got up horribly early and walked over the fields to meet the Diggory's. Cedric Diggory was in Hufflepuff, seventh year. He was also quite handsome, but I didn't really like him. He was a bit big-headed. "Ah, there you are, Arthur!" cried a man. That must be Amos Diggory, Cedric's dad.
"Amos!" said Mr Weasley. Of course, there was the customary fussing over Harry and then we found the portkey. It was an old boot. We all held on to it and span away to the World Cup. I landed rather painfully on top of Hermione.
The Game
"Blimey Dad, how far up are we?" asked Ron, puffing, as we climbed up the many stairs to the top of the stadium. "Well put it this way," said a sneering voice, "if it rains, you'll be the first to know." We all turned to see Lucius Malfoy, and his pompous prat of a son Draco. I huffed and turned away.