After a few hours of sleep, Mr Weasley woke them up. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and as he waved them off, he said, "Merry Christmas."

At Eva's horrified look, Mr Weasley said, "He'll be all right. Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while…and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

"I wish I can forget that, too," Eva said, shuddering.

Hailey cringed, not wanting to know what Eva was going through. She frowned, "Hey, how did they get you, anyway?" Mr Weasley went to have a discussion with Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys. However, it looked everyone wanted to leave as quickly as possible, not that Hailey blamed them.

"I just went outside, because I was having trouble falling asleep," Eva said. "There was a series of bangs and I ran to get Mr Weasely. I ran out to wake you all up, but it looked like someone got lost and I went to go see what was going on, but then—" She trailed, choking back tears and Hailey figured that she shouldn't ask Eva anymore questions on the subject.

Mr Weasley had gotten an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill and Hailey noticed that the sun was rising.

They walked back through Ottery St Catchpole and back up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, not talking very much. Hailey was thinking of what happened the previous night and thinking of breakfast.

When they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view:

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley had been waiting in the front yard for them and came running at them. She was still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face was pale and looked strained. She was clutching a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet. "Arthur—I've been so worried—so worried—" She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck and the Daily Prophet fell out of her hand and onto the ground.

Hailey couldn't help but look down at the newspaper and saw the headline:

SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP

There was a black-and-white photograph of the twinkling Dark Mark floating above the treetops of the wood.

"You're all right," Mrs Weasley said distractedly, released her husband and staring around at the others with red eyes, "You're alive…oh, boys…" She seized Fred and George, pulling the both of them into a very tight hug, causing their heads to bang together.

"Ouch! Mum—you're strangling us—" they both said.

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh, Fred…George…"

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr Weasley in a soothing manner, prying her off her sons.

"Except me," Eva muttered, but she wasn't heard as Mr Weasley led his wife back to the house.

Mr Weasley said something to Bill that Hailey couldn't hear, but Bill picked up the fallen newspaper and they all went inside the Burrow.

They crammed inside the tiny kitchen and Hermione started making Mrs Weasley very strong tea. Mr Weasley poured a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey in Mr Weasley's tea, while Bill handed him the newspaper. Mr Weasley examined the front page, while Percy read over his dad's shoulder.

Glinda flew in through the open window and dropped a letter and the Daily Prophet right in front of Mandy. Mandy opened the letter first, "My parents are worried for me." She grabbed the Daily Prophet and left the kitchen, to Ginny's room, so she can send a reply to her parents.

"I knew it," said Mr Weasley heavily. "Ministry Blunders…culprits not apprehended…lax security…Dark wizards running unchecked…national disgrace…Who wrote this? Ah…of course…Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampire! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans—"

"Do us a favour, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs Weasley, choking on her spiked tea. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr Weasley. "Listen to this:

'If the terrified witches and wizards who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.'

Oh, really," said Mr Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods…Well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that."

"Well, people always clamber for anything with a story. Even if it's false," Michael said.

Mr Weasley sighed, "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr Crouch will need all ands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person." He bustled out of the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

An owl flew into the kitchen, dropping a letter right in front of Michael.

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off…"

Michael took the letter and Eva went to stand beside him to read it too.

"Mrs Weasley," said Hailey, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs Weasley sounding distracted, "No…no, there hasn't been any post at all, except for Michael and Mandy, right now."

Ron and Hermione looked curious as they looked at Hailey. Hailey looked at the both of them and turned to Ginny, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ginny?"

"Yeah…" Ginny replied, confused.

"I think I will put my stuff in my room," Ron said. "Hermmione?"

"Yes," Hermione replied quickly and three of them left the kitchen. They went up the stairs to the attic.

When they entered the room, Ron closed the door. "What's up, Hailey?"

Hailey wasn't sure how to phrase what she wanted to say. "There's something I haven't told you. On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Hermione gasped and started suggesting a number of reference books, and to write to everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse.

Ron looked dumbstruck and asked, "But—he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean—last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"

"I'm sure he wasn't there," Hailey said. "But I was dreaming about him…him and Peter—you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill…someone." She wanted to say 'me' but she didn't want to make Hermione look more horrified than she already was.

"It was only a dream," said Ron, "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" Hailey pointed out and looked out the window to see that daylight was coming. "It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and three days later, the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't! Say! His! Name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Hailey went on ignoring Ron, "At the end of last year?"

Professor Trelawney was their Divination teacher at Hogwarts. Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. "Oh, Hailey, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?"

"You weren't there," Hailey pointed out again. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance—a real one. And said the Dark Lord would rise again…greater and more terrible than ever before…and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him…and that night, Peter escaped." She couldn't use Peter's old nickname because that was what he was referred to when he was still friends with her dad, before he betrayed them and got them killed by Voldemort. Peter didn't deserve to be referred to by his old nickname.

Ron fidgeted with a hole in his Chuldey Cannons bedspread. "Does Mandy and Michael know about the dream?"

"Yeah," Hailey said. "They looked through some books to try to help."

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Hailey?" Hermione asked. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," said Hailey, shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer."

"Good thinking!" exclaimed Ron, his troubled expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Hailey almost to herself.

"But we don't know where Sirius is…he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" asked Hermione reasonably. "Hedwig's not to going to manage that journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," said Hailey, but she was feeling worried when she looked out the window at the Hedwig-free sky.

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Hailey," said Ron. "Come on—three on three, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George will play…You can try out the Wronski Feint…"

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive tone, "Hailey doesn't want to play Quidditch right now…She's worried, and she's tired…We all need to go to bed…"

Hailey figured that playing Quidditch might ease her worries, "Yeah, I want to play Quidditch. Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

Hermione left the room, muttering something like, "Seriously?"


For the past week, Mr Weasley nor Percy were home. The two left the house each morning before the rest woke up and they came home well after dinner each night.

They were sitting in the living room with a fire going, because it was raining heavily. Ginny was sitting on the rug, trying to mend a text with Spellotap. Bill and Ron were playing chess. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Hailey was polishing the Firebolt with the broomstick servicing kit that Hermione had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers; their heads bent over a piece of parchment. Mandy, Michael, and Hermione were sitting together, reading their new text books. Mrs Weasley had bought Hermione's books at Diagon Alley. Eva was sitting on the couch, petting her pet Puffskein, Eve.

On Sunday, before they were due to return to Hogwarts, Percy told them, "It's been an absolute uproar." He sounded like he was important, "I've been putting out fires all week. People kept sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with an en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak proper on sticks."

Michael laughed at that and Mrs Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner.

The grandfather clock was completely useless if she wanted to know what time it was. It had nine golden hands, where each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numbers around the face, but there were descriptions of where each family member might be. There was "Home," "school," "work," "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and where the number twelve should've been was, "mortal peril." Eight of the hands were pointed straight at home, but Mr Weasley's hand, which was the longest, was pointed straight at "Work."

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days for You-Know-Who," Mrs Weasley said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with Head of Department first—"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs Weasley, getting anger at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, looking up from his chess game. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me—"

"No, Mum," Bill interrupted, sounding exasperated.

Mrs Weasley noticed Fred and George sitting in the corner. "What are you two up to?"

"Homework," responded Fred in a vague manner.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" demanded Mrs Weasley. "You wouldn't be thinking of reopening Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," started Fred, looking up at her. His expression was pained, "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Hailey couldn't help but laugh at that, along with everyone else. She was surprised to see that Mrs Weasley even laughed.

"Oh, your father's coming!" Mrs Weasley said.

Hailey looked up in time to see Mr Weasley's hand spun from "work" to "traveling" and then it stopped at "home" with the other hands. They heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs Weasely, hurrying out of the living room.

A few moments later, Mr Weasley came into the living room carrying his dinner on a tray, looking completely exhausted. "Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he said to Mrs Weasley. He sat in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his slightly shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeet's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr Weasley, sounding irritated. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I though we were all agreed that the elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet know how mean he is to his elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" snapped Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants—"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"How do you know if he did or didn't?" Mandy asked.

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" Mrs Weasley said, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you…"

Hailey repacked her broomstick servicing kit, put her Firebolt over her shoulder, and went back upstairs with Hermione, Mandy, Ginny, and Eva to Ginny's room.

Hailey set her broomstick down and looked at the empty cage. She was worried for Hedwig and Sirius, "It's been over a week."

Ginny and Eva were watching, probably curious, before turning away. Ginny picked up some parcels and handed it too Hailey, "Here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. She even got some gold out of your vault for you…and she's washed all your socks." She set the pile of parcels on the mattress and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it.

Hailey started unwrapping the shopping. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk, she had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for her potion-making kit—she had been running low on spine of lionfish and essence of belladonna. She was putting her underclothes in the trunk when she noticed the last two parcels. She opened the largest box to see that there was something black folded in it. She unfolded it to see that it was a black dress. It had thick shoulder straps and noticed that it looked to be about mid-thigh length. The bottom half had silver studs in a row all around it.

Eva looked confused. "Why do you have a dress?"

There was a knock on the door and Mrs Weasley walked in, holding freshly laundered robes. Hailey looked at the unopened box and opened it. She picked up two black high-top shoes and a white bracelet with black symbols that looked like arrows on it. She looked at Mrs Weasley, confused. "Why—?"

"It was on your school list, dear. You're supposed to have a dress for formal occasions," Mrs Weasley said.

Eva looked at the dress and as Mrs Weasley. "What formal occasion is that? I don't remember getting a letter that says we're going to have a formal occasion."

Mrs Weasley set the robes down. "Here you are, now mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

With that, she left the room and Hailey looked at the others. "Was that odd to you?" Hailey folded the dress and was about to put them in the box when:

"Wait," Eva said. Hailey looked at her. "Let me see the dress." Hailey held it out to Eva, who grabbed it and looked at the dress. "I think I can make some bracelets to go with this." She handed the dress back to Hailey.

"Er—you don't have to," Hailey said, putting it in the box and closing the lid. She was unsure why she even needed a dress.

"I have to," Eva said, smiling widely. "I'm envisioning the bracelets already. I think it would go great with your dress."

Hailey looked at the dress. "I don't think it suits me."

"Nonsense," Mandy said. "If you put it on, I think it'll suit you just fine."

"You better be right, because if it doesn't…" Hailey said, looking at the dress.

"Just what exactly is going on at Hogwarts, though?" Ginny wondered. "Why do you need a dress?"

Hailey was wondering that herself.