Chapter Two: Stoathead Hill Reunions

"Alright kiddo, here you are: Stoathead Hill," Mr. Schickling said, pulling their car to a stop at the foot of the hill.

"Have fun, sweetie," Mrs. Schickling called as Rachel climbed out, slinging her overnight bag over her shoulder.

"Bye, Mum, Dad," Rachel replied as her folks drove away. As soon as they were out of sight, she set her sights toward the top of Stoathead Hill.

She'd made it about halfway up when she was hailed by shouts from behind her. "Oy! You there! Wait up!"

She turned to see a family of flame-haired redheads struggling up the hill behind her. Among them, she recognized Fred and George Weasley, beaters on the Gryffindor team. Cedric had told her about them. He'd said they were really, really good and he'd give anything to have had them in Hufflepuff. She smiled affably as they drew even with her. She knew them by reputation. "You blokes going to the Quidditch World Cup?" she asked, playfully imitating a heavy shireland accent.

"Sure thing, lass," George – or Fred, she couldn't really tell – replied with a saucy smile. "D'ye need an escort, milady? It seems a right shame to let such a pretty li'l thing gad about this countryside alone, donchee think, Fred?"

"Aye, George," Fred said, taking the cue from his twin and tipping an imaginary cap. "We can't leave 'er alone, now, can we?"

"Alright you two," Mr. Weasley cut in, "that's quite enough." He extended a hand. "Arthur Weasley, at your service. Can we escort you to the Portkey?"

"Rachel Schickling," she replied warmly, gripping his hand in a brief shake, "I'd be glad of the company."

"Ah, Schickling!" Fred exclaimed, his eyes lighting up in recognition. "You're Diggory's chum, aren't you?"

"Cedric's a good friend of mine, yes," she assented, wondering if they, too, were going to say anything about Cedric being her boyfriend. Fortunately, if they were, they didn't, and didn't have the chance to.

"Rae!" a familiar voice called. She glanced over the Weasleys' shoulders to see her best friend jogging up the hill toward them, followed distantly by Mr. Diggory. He closed the distance in a matter of seconds and swept her up in a tremendous bear hug. "How are you? Merlin, it's been forever!" Cedric exclaimed, stepping back to survey her appearance. "You look good," he said after a few seconds of appraisal.

"Ahem." One of the twins cleared his throat. When he had everyone's attention, he said, "I hate to break up this little reunion, but we're all bound for a Portkey at the top of the hill that's leaving in fifteen minutes. We really should get going, if you don't mind."

"Quite right, young Mr. Weasley," Mr. Diggory remarked as he caught up with them at last. He turned and briefly greeted everyone there. "Arthur, boys, ladies, Potter. Ah, good morning, Miss Schickling!" he ended pompously, shaking her hand vigorously.

"Good ol' Dad," Cedric muttered so only she could hear. She chuckled quietly. She really was very fond of Mr. Diggory, despite his sometimes pompous nature.

"Right," Mr. Weasley said smartly. "Alright kids, hurry, hurry!"

As they all made their way up the hill, Rachel found herself walking between Cedric and Harry Potter, with Mr. Diggory just behind. "So," she said, hoping to find out more about the famous Boy-Who-Lived, "You're on the Gryffindor team?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at her with his startlingly green eyes. Despite being almost three years younger than her, he was a little taller than she was, and looked older than fourteen. Probably from all that stuff that's happened to him, she thought somewhat caustically. It had driven her nuts that his "heroics" had continually put Hufflepuff out of the running for House Cup every year since he'd been there. Her House rarely received any glory, yet she fostered a deep-seated loyalty to it and was intensely proud of Cedric for bringing the only glory Hufflepuff had received in the time since she'd been at school.

"Youngest player in a century," Fred boasted, having listened in.

"And a thumping good 'un, too," George added.

"Except for that time Cedric beat him out," Mr. Diggory chimed in. "Potter may have been good, but he wasn't fast enough for my Ced."

"Dad," Cedric said in a low tone, his cheeks beginning to flush pink in embarrassment, "it wasn't a fair match."

"Nonsense! Don't be so modest, my boy. I ask you, is it fair when one player falls off his broom and the other stays on? Of course it is! Ced was just the better flier, isn't that right, Son?"

"Dad…" Cedric said again, almost pleadingly.

From her vantage point, Rachel could see both Cedric and Harry flush in embarrassment, while one of the twins reflexively clenched a fist in anger. She knew the circumstances of that match as well as anybody and she was painfully aware of the fact that, if it had not been for the dementors, Harry would have gotten the snitch and Hufflepuff would have lost. Much as she hated to admit it, Harry was the better flier. Before Mr. Diggory had a chance to plow on any longer, she interrupted his monologue. "Oh look! We're almost there!"

Distracted at last, Mr. Diggory broke off in mid-thought. "Merlin's beard, so we are!"

Cedric sent her an appreciative glance and bumped her shoulder gently in a gesture of gratitude. Then he grabbed her arm and smoothly switched places with her as they finally crested the hill.

"Hey, Harry," she heard him say quietly, "I'm sorry about that. I've asked him not to talk about it, but… well, you see what he's like."

"Blinded by fatherly prejudice," Rachel supplied. "It's nothing personal, Potter."

Their efforts were rewarded by a small smile on Harry's part.

"Still," a female voice said, "it was frightfully rude to go on like that. He should have been more discreet."

Rachel and Cedric glanced around to Harry's other side to see a bushy-brown-haired girl regarding them with annoyance.

"You must be Hermione Granger," Rachel heard herself saying coolly. The uppity fourth-year had been grinding on her nerves since last year with her know-it-all attitude in the library, where Rachel had spent a good amount of time prior to exams.

"That's right," Hermione said crisply.

Rachel clamped down on her tongue to avoid spilling all the things she wanted to say to this upstart little witch who had no respect for seniority. Cedric recognized the warning signs and laid a placating hand on her arm.

"Simmer down, hothead," he whispered, utilizing his teasing nickname for her, one that usually had its desired effect and got her to loosen up.

"Everybody gather around and grab on!" Mr. Weasley announced, holding up a smelly old boot.

"I'm cool, I promise," Rachel whispered back as she reached out and grabbed onto the boot. Cedric smiled and a few seconds later she felt a nauseating tug from the region of her navel.

Just so you all know, I have absolutely nothing against Hermione in real life. She's rather a favorite of mine, but, as you may have noticed, Rachel has her own opinions about things and we don't always agree. Please read and review! Let me know what you think!