Mrs. W was throwing a fit over the boys. She wasn't her usual self, but her usual self angry. All her actions were jerky and unpredictable, and a bit dangerous if I do say so. After Ginny nearly got her eye taken out she calmed down enough to cut the food properly. (With Ginny hiding in her room from her mum for the remainder of the time in which her Mrs. Weasley was holding a knife.) I didn't exactly fancy being near her while she was so angry, AND she had access to a sharp object either.
Ron and Harry ran outside to help Bill and Charlie. I ran back up the stairs to take cover with Ginny.
From the window, we watched Bill and Charlie have a table fight. It was quite the spectacle, until one of the tables was roughly demolished, and Ginny and I cheered loudly.
"Go Bill!" Ginny hollered from the window.
"You show that table who's boss!" I shouted after her. They looked up at us and waved, Mrs. Weasley's anger, the hostile mood everyone was in forgotten temporarily in the light of momentary fun.
Percy, of course, was the one to try and ruin our fun by telling us off. Prick.
"Why are you up there?" Harry asked goodnaturedly, looking from Ginny to me.
"We're obviously waiting for you to climb the balcony and start reciting that one sonnet from Romeo and Juliet!" I replied. Harry snapped his head to the side so he was no longer making eye contact with Ginny. "Ginny, is the sun…"
"Stop it you!" she laughed, hitting me hard on the arm. Harder than I thought such a frail little thing could hit. I guess growing up with five older brothers would toughen anyone up.
Percy doesn't count. He's more of an older sister.
We had all seated around the table, acutely aware of the tension between Mama Weasley and the twins. Soon it had melted away though, and everyone was arguing about something. I was talking to Charlie, Fred and George about the Quidditch World Cup.
"It's got to be Ireland." Charlie declared, mouth full of food, much like Ron. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals."
"Bulgaria's got Viktor Krum though," Fred contradicted. I nodded eagerly.
"I hope it's Bulgaria!" I said excitedly. I had always liked Bulgaria. Maybe it was the way I liked saying the country's name (Bulgaria. Say it out loud, it's fun! BULL-GARE-EE-AH!) or maybe it was just that I liked to contradict society, but I was routing for the Bulgarians. Бългapия за победа! (A/N: That is pronounced Bulgaria za pobeda, and means "Bulgaria for the win." No, this is not off some website either. It is from my mind.)
Maybe it was just in my nature to route for the underdogs.
"Krum's one decent player. Ireland has got seven! I wish England had got through. That was embarassing, that was." said Charlie, so I stuck out my tongue at him.
The food was delicious, and tasted better than even the Hogwarts feast after everything I had been forced to endure at the Dursley house for months. One would think living off of birthday cake and sweets would be good, but it actually made me sick. I never wanted to touch birthday cake again.
Mrs. Weasley sent us up to bed with one last glare at Fred. It blew my mind that the match had gone on for five days the year previous. How could the players not collapse after five days of flying? It was astounding.
I lay in bed, excited about the Cup. Ginny had insisted that she was not helping me in my quest to spread Bulgaria supporters, so I was gicing her the cold shoulder until later that night when we whispered excitedly about our plans for the cup, and our prediction. Neither of us wanted to bet, though. I was saving every penny for useless merchandise I was sure to buy, and Ginny, while it was a touchy topic, really didn't have much money to waste. We finally shut up and went to bed when Hermione threw her pillow at us and threatened to hex us if we didn't let her go to bed.
Embarassing as it was, I didn't like my odds of getting in a fight against Hermione.
We were shaken awake by Mrs. Weasley in the early hours of the morning, the boys already downstairs, everyone groggy, myself the sole exception. I had always been a morning person for some reason: maybe it was just that I was naturally cheerful most days. Why would I be unhappy on a day like this, when I was about to go to the Quidditch Cup? It seemed impossible to be cranky. Yet Ginny had been very clear that if I kept being so perky within five feet of her she would rip my hair off. Sweet girl.
I skipped down the stairs for breakfast, feeling awful for Mrs. Weasley, who undoubtedly had to get up much earlier than anyone else and still wasn't complaining. She just took the abuse of everyone else giving her grief for waking them up.
"... are we walking to the World Cup?" asked Harry, drawing me back into the conversation. I had been engrossed in watching Hermione's unbrushed hair: it was even frizzier and scarier to look at.
"No, no, that's miles away. We only need to walk a short way, it's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and at a huge event like the Quidditch World Cup-"
"George!" snapped Mrs. Weasley, glaring at a sheepish George.
"What?" said George in a false innocent tone, that was coated in panic. They were so BUSTED, whatever it was he was hiding.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!"
"Don't you lie to me!" she scolded, pointing her wand and muttering Accio, drawing several brightly coloured candies out of his pockets. He made a mad snatch at them, but the Ton-Tongue-Toffees were whisked out of reach and into her clenched fists.
Painstakingly, both Fred and George were forced to empty their pockets. Mrs. Weasley then went on a rampage as she summoned them from so many unusual places it wasn't funny, including the underwear of George.
"We spent six months developping those!" protested Fred. My heart broke for them. This was their dream… they had worked so hard… how could Mrs. Weasley not understand that? How could she think they would ever give up on their dream? i tried to imagine them given up, at the Ministry, and the thought sent a shiver through me.
The atmosphere was bleak as the twins hoisted their sacks onto their shoulders, angry tears in both their eyes, glaring with as much hate possible. At their family. That was what made me the saddest. Their precious inventions… in the trash…
"Have a lovely time! Behave yourselves! I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy around about midday!" she waved from the doorframe, my mind clouded with sadness, pity, excitement, and anger at her. I couldn't stop thinking about those candies…
I had to do something. Their faces were angry, and they simply couldn't stay so angry at family. Family was precious! How did they not get that, either of them?
"Mr. Weasley!" I shouted in a rush of inspiration. "I forgot my galleon sack inside! I'm going to go get it!" I sprinted inside the house, dashing past Mrs. Weasley who was still waving at the door, straight to the garbage. Keeping one eye on the door to make certain she didn't follow me, I shovelled the candies into my bag by the handful, until I heard footsteps and stopped, took out my sack of galleons which was safely in my bag, and put them on the counter.
"Here it is, dear," she said in a motherly tone, handing me my sack. "Have a good time, and try to keep the boys in line."
I sprinted back out, still clutching the bag in my hand, fighting the urge to put a hand over the place where the twins toffees hid in my bag. If the zipper were to open, or she saw the lump in my bag, it would be clear what I had done. Guilt for cheating Mrs. Weasley was overcome by pride for helping my best friends.
It was a chilly afternoon, one that had me pulling my jacket tighter around me. I waited a while into the walk until I tugged on the sleeves of Fred and George, holding them back until we were walking a good seven paces behind the group. We were free to talk.
"What?" George demanded.
"Kal, we aren't exactly in the mood." Fred said roughly.
"Fine then," I marched away. Before I got out of earshot, I said, "I guess you don't want it."
"Want what?" George asked suspiciously. His eyes flickered to my empty palms, untrustingly.
"This," I grinned and looked around, deeming it safe enough to pull out a handful of the things I had taken from the trash. One of these most likely touched George's underwear… ew... ew… ew…
"Kal!" George whisper-yelled. "How…?"
"I dug them out of the trash when I "left my galleon sack" inside!" I stated proudly. They were quick to pile onto me in a hug.
"I love you!" Fred hollered loud enough for the gang to hear.
"We all saw this coming," Ron snickered. Fred and I lunged away from each other, embarassed.
"What's going on back there?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Just excited for the game!" Fred said at the same time that George spoke.
"Fred's just declaring his undying love for Kal!"
Needless to say, I gave George a good kick before we got back on the road.
OoOoOoOoOo
Nope. Nope. Nope. I thought, still panting from climbing the hill, looking around for the port key. I didn't even know what I was looking for! This was child cruelty. Why… why couldn't I be older so I could apparate?
"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it." called a man from the other side of where I was searching. Two tall figures stood against the still starry sky, one with an arm raised towards us.
"Amos!" we all followed Mr. Weasley over to the two people. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magial Creatures. I think you know his son, Cedric Diggory?"
I did know Cedric Diggory. He was an incredibly handsome boy in our year. I heard Alicia had a huge crush on him. He was a phenomenal Quidditch player, but I heard he had a thing for Cho Chang. Shame.
"Hi," said Cedric, looking shyly at us all.
Everyone responded appropriately besides Fred and George, who had never forgiven him for beating Gryffindor a while back. As much as I tried to convince them that they couldn't hate Hufflepuff forever for winning a single match, they didn't listen, and they didn't like him. They gave a harsh nod.
"All these yours, Arthur?" Amos nodded at us kids.
"Just the redheads! This is Hermione, friend of Ron's, and Harry, another friend…"
"Harry POTTER?"
"Er - yeah," said Harry, being as shy as he was. To get the attention off of him, he pointed at me. "That's my sister."
"Wow, Arthur! The Potter's!" Amos chuckled. "Ced's talked about you of course, Harry. Told us all about playing against you last year, I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will… You beat Harry Potter!"
I didn't like the arrogance this man displayed, but in a way, he was right. He was also doing an awful good job of ignoring the murderous glares Fred and George were giving him.
"Harry fell off his broom, dad, I told you, it was an accident."
"Yes but you didn't fall off, did you? Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, it doesn't take a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"
After a bit more chit-chat that had my mind reeling, I realized Cedric was looking at me with a smile on his face. A polite smile.
No, I was not in the Cedric Diggory fan club (which was a thing) but his smile was super cute, and I thought he would be a good friend, so I gave my most friendly nod in his direction as we waited.
We crowded around the boot and held onto it, all of us. I tried not to laugh at how odd we must look, all of us holding a dirty old boot before six in the morning. It happened without warning. I felt a pull in my gut, a painful one, and was jerked off my feet by an invisible force, my eyes forced closed by the wind that howled in my ears. Someone was bashing into my side, someone much heavier than me, and I could feel Ginny's arms flailing around near me. I tried to latch onto something, only to grab someone by the arm.
Suddenly, my hand became unnatached to the boot so I was free falling into the ground… my fall cushioned by four outstretched arms so I didn't quite hit the ground. It was actually quite remarkable how the arms were holding me above the ground I had almost ploughed into, supporting my back so I was leaning into them to stop myself. Once the dissiness resided (good news was, my birds were back) I straightened and looked at my saviors.
Fred, naturally, was one of them, and he knew it too, since he was wearing a cocky grin. The other was Cedric.
Fred stoppped smiling once he saw that. In fact, he was glaring.
"Thank you so much!" I breathed at the two of them, holding an arm out to Fred, who was on the ground. Cedric was amazingly standing up without help. So was Harry, the smooth ass.
"Seven past five from Stoathead Hill," said a voice.
A/N:
LET ME STOP YOU RIGHT THERE, WONDERFUL READERS. There will be no Cedric/Kal relationship ROMANTICALLY at any point during this fanfiction. Let me promise you that. It might seem like it at certain intervals but it will never happen, you know why? Lemme enlighten you.
I feel bad for Cedric. He's used so often as a tool in these fanfictions. A tool to get the REAL love interest jealous. It's so convinient because he doesn't have an official girlfriend (unless you count Cho) and his relationship with Cho Chang isn't a huge part of the story anyway, so it can easily be changed. Also, he's handsome and likeable so he is easy to use as a tool for girls to like, and guys to be jealous of. Not to mention this: HE DIES. Cedric dies, so there is no mess at the end.
This is how it goes in too many fics: Cedric and girl get together. Boy becomes jealous and realizes feelings. There is either a fight or not one. Girl is happy with Cedric but wonders about boy. Cedric takes to ball. Cedric dies in third challenge. Boy cannot be angry with girl anymore since her boyfriend just DIED, and you can't be mad at a dead boy, so everything is good, but the plot has been moved along because somewhere they realize their "feelings."
POOR CED. HE'S A GOOD PERSON.
So none of that'll be happening. Maybe a little Jealousy but that is where it ends.
Review my lovelies! Stay awesome,
Forever Maria 3
