Author's Note - It's a Saturday update!
I hope everyone is having a lovely March, and that this update adds an extra ray of sunshine on your day (it's currently raining where I am so here's hoping the weather is nicer where you are!). Thank you for all the love for the last chapter - I really had a blast writing it! And a massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or followed this story, it always makes my day!
This chapter ties up the Quidditch World Cup but don't you worry, the drama is far from over! I especially enjoyed writing the latter half of this chapter as there is extra drama and a surprise appearance.
Hope you all enjoy - don't forget to review and follow!
We fail to say the right words, because we choose to say the wrong words! We choose to say the wrong words, because we fail to think about the right words!
- Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
August 1994
The sight of the Dark Mark sent chaos throughout the campground but surprisingly enough, it was the Death Eaters who seemed most perturbed by the sight. Many of them quickly Disapparated, leaving surprised Ministry employees to mop up the damage. The Roberts' family were quickly rescued, and some semblance of order was returned to the atmosphere, though it was still tense. As the Dark Mark floated higher and the screams intensified, Maggie found Charlie's arms to be comforting – almost like a security blanket wrapped around her.
They exchanged shocked glances before Charlie muttered something indistinguishable and his head whipped around, searching for the rest of his family. He cursed and it was at that moment, that Maggie felt absolutely useless. If she hadn't have gotten hurt, Charlie would be at his family's side, instead of having to guide Maggie round like an invalid!
Together, the pair managed to find their way through the chaos and back to their tents – Charlie half-carrying Maggie as she hobbled along. All the while, they both scanned the campsite, searching for their friends and family. They walked in silence; the heavy atmosphere left neither one of them wanting to speak.
Eventually, they found their way back to the Weasley tent. Thankfully, all three tents remained intact, a stark comparison to further down the campsite, where many tents had been reduced to ash. Maggie gave a cry of relief when she saw Tonks stood in front of the tent, alongside Bill and Percy. Tonks' hair had turned to her mundane mousey-brown – something it only did when she was worried.
"Maggie!" Tonks exclaimed when she saw the pair. She rushed forward, her body slamming into Maggie's as she brought the small witch into a tight hug. "What the hell?"
"Merlin, Nymph, let a witch breathe, why don't you?" Maggie tried to laugh but it came out hoarse.
Tonks pulled away, staring at Maggie with annoyance. "How many bloody times are you going to get hurt? I swear we should just book a bed for you at St Mungo's!"
"And you'll be in the one beside me," Maggie said with a wink, having chirped up slightly. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," Tonks said quickly before looking over her shoulder. "Listen, I've been called in – this whole thing's chaos and they've pulled everyone in," Tonks' gaze flickered towards Charlie. "Are you okay staying with the Weasleys? It's utter chaos and I don't know when I'll be off shift-"
"Nymph, it's fine," Maggie interjected before her fellow witch got too wound up. "I'll heal this when I get back to the tent – I don't have nearly the correct supplies with me though - and apparate home -"
"You can't apparate on that leg!" Charlie's exclamation was a surprise and both Maggie and Tonks turned to look at the wizard, in a mix of confusion and curiosity. The tips of Charlie's ears turned red as he realised his outburst was louder than he had intended, and he quickly continued.
"Apparating on a broke leg, even if it is healed, isn't a good idea, you could do some serious damage," Charlie pointed out as the witches continued to stare at him. "We've got a portkey – you can floo back from the Burrow and it won't strain your leg."
Maggie blinked as Charlie's words sunk in. Dumbfounded for a moment, she looked over at Tonks, who appeared deep in thought. After a few moments of silence, the mousey-hair witch spoke up.
"It's not a bad idea," She said slowly, looking over at Maggie. "At least you won't be alone?"
Maggie shrugged her shoulder and gave a small smile. "You're needed at work. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
Tonks bit her lip before turning to face Charlie. "If anything happens to her, I'm coming after you," She said, her tone playful yet serious.
"Of course," Charlie nodded.
Tonks exchanged a hurried goodbye, pulling Maggie into a tight hug before sprinting off into the crowd, which was more controlled by this point due to the presence of ministry officials. After a moment, Charlie suggested they head inside which Maggie fervently agreed to. His arm wrapped around Maggie's waist as he helped guide her into the tent and they made a beeline for the kitchen, where Bill and Percy was sat.
At the sight of Bill's profusely bleeding arm and Percy's bloody nose, Maggie went into instant Healer mode. Charlie helped her to a chair, grabbing another to prop her leg up.
"Accio bag," Maggie whipped out her wand and quickly muttered. The bag zoomed into the room and Maggie began to pull out various bottles and bandages. "Right, Bill first. Sit there where I can reach," Maggie gestured to the empty chair beside her.
"Are you mad?" Charlie exclaimed. "You should be checking your leg before anything - don't worry about him!"
"Thanks, Charlie. I feel so loved," Bill drawled dully but Charlie quickly waved him off.
"Maggie can't even stand up; she shouldn't be healing your arm before she's even looked at her own injury!" Charlie argued.
"She has a name?" Maggie interjected with annoyance. "And for your information, I am perfectly fine."
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Yes, because the human leg is supposed to be that colour. A very lovely shade of purple!"
"I can fix Bill's arm in a heartbeat!" Maggie snapped as she grabbed a roll of gauze. "It'll take all of two minutes."
"If it'll only take two minutes, you can leave it till later," Charlie pointed out, crossing his arms.
Maggie was about to retort when Bill spoke up.
"To be fair, Maggie, your leg does look pretty sore," He reasoned, his eyes darting between Maggie and Charlie as he spoke almost cautiously. "Mine's not too bad, I'd rather you sort yourself out before you worry about me."
At Bill's words, Charlie turned to Maggie with a triumphant grin. Maggie's eyes narrowed but she agreed to Bill's terms and turned her attention towards her injured leg. She pulled out her wand and muttered a spell that would check for any broken bones, hissing when she discovered multiple fractures in her ankle.
Using magic when possible, Maggie tried to fix as much of her leg as she could, though it was difficult as she did not have all the potions she needed. She reasoned that she could get the potions she needed from home the following day – the major one being Skel-Gro – but in the meantime, Maggie had to make do with setting the bone the muggle way and hobbling around.
"Right, I've done all I can," Maggie said, turning to face Charlie. "Before you say anything, it's not fully healed – I've not got everything. So, can I start helping other people now?"
Charlie snarked out a quiet reply before Bill spoke up and took the seat next to Maggie. As she worked to heal Bill's arm – admittedly, it took longer than she originally reasoned – Fred, George and Ginny entered the tent, looking shaken but unharmed. Charlie busied himself by making tea, and despite their frosty interactions, Maggie quickly excepted the mug.
Once Bill was mostly healed – he still needed the bedsheet to mop up the blood – Maggie gestured to Percy who took Bill's vacant seat. A broken nose was easily fixed, and Maggie quickly used a simple 'episkey' charm to heal his broken nose. He quietly thanked her just as Mr Weasley entered the tent, followed by Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Did you get them, Dad?" Bill quickly asked as Maggie turned in her chair to hear Mr Weasley's response. "The person who conjured the Mark?"
"No," Mr Weasley shook his head. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."
"What?" Maggie's voice joined in as she and the three elder brothers looked between Mr Weasley and Harry in shock.
The trio helped Mr Weasley to tell the story of what had happened in the woods; explaining how the house-elf of a Ministry Official had been found with Harry's wand, which had been used to cast the Mark. Throughout the explanation, Percy's expression grew more baffled at the idea and even Maggie had to admit, the story was hard to believe.
"Well, Mr Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" Percy exclaimed indignantly. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry...how would that have looked, if she'd been had up in front of the Department of Regulation and Control..."
"She didn't do anything – she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked fairly taken back.
Maggie had to agree with Hermione – the poor elf had no doubt been terrified at the surrounding events and had done the only logical thing. It was rum luck that she had ended up in the position that she had. Maggie felt pity run throughout; the poor house-elf, she had only been trying to escape the chaos!
The conversation turned away from Crouch's elf and onto the topic of the Dark Mark. Neither Ron or Harry knew what it stood for, and Maggie reasoned there were a few others in the tent who didn't either.
"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," Mr Weasley explained. "The terror it inspired...you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside...Everyone's worst fear...the very worst."
The room grew silent as they took in the gravity of Mr Weasley's words. Though she was raised in the Muggle world, Maggie was no stranger to the fear that the Dark Mark inspired. Having started Hogwarts only a few years after the fall of You-Know-Who, Maggie had seen the fear it incited – classmates terrified by anything remotely resembling the Mark.
"Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it," Bill spoke up, his voice breaking the silence. "It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses' before they hit the ground though. They're having their memories modified right now."
As Harry asked who the Death Eaters were, Maggie's mind flashed back to earlier that night. She had in fact, unmasked a Death Eater, though part of Maggie wished she hadn't. Scaboir was the same age as her, meaning he had been too young to join the Death Eaters during the War. That left only one explanation; had the Death Eaters planned this? It would explain Scaboir presence – of course, he would join any pureblood supremacy society. His beady snake eyes haunted her thoughts and for a moment, Maggie was sixteen again, staring down Scaboir before he hexed her and the world turned dark.
Maggie stared down at the table, almost despondent. A hand rested on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Eyebrows knitted in confusion, Maggie looked up to see Charlie stood beside her, a sympathetic smile stretched across his features. As her brown eyes met his blue, it felt as though Charlie knew exactly what Maggie was thinking. Strangely enough, his presence was soothing at help put her mind at ease – she responded with a small, grateful smile.
"So... whoever conjured the Dark Mark...were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters or to scare them away?" Hermione's question drew Maggie's attention back as she pondered the theory.
"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr Weasley tiredly.
"But I'll tell you this... it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now...Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened, she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try to get an early Portkey out of here."
As everyone headed to bed, Maggie sat for a moment as Mr Weasley turned to face her. She was aware that Charlie was still behind her but at least his hand was gone from her shoulder.
"Dad, Maggie's ankle is broken, and Tonks has been called in. She can't apparate with her bad leg so I said she could catch a Portkey with us and floo back from home?" Charlie explained as Maggie's gaze darted from the red-headed wizard to his father.
Mr Weasley gave a small smile and nodded. "Of course. Would you mind sleeping in the girls' tent? I don't want them to be alone with everything that's happened," He asked, and Maggie nodded.
"Of course," She replied, grateful that she wouldn't be alone. "And thank you, Mr Weasley, I'm sorry to be a pain."
"It's no bother, Maggie," Mr Weasley insisted. "Thank you for earlier and thank you for looking after the girls."
Hermione and Ginny appeared, and Mr Weasley explained that Maggie would be sleeping in their tent. The girls offered to help Maggie into the tent, but Charlie spoke up.
"I got it," He said before scooping Maggie up in his arms. Once again, Maggie's cheeks flushed from embarrassment – or it may have been due to the physical closeness – and Charlie carried Maggie into the other tent, Hermione and Ginny trailing behind him. He gently placed Maggie on the couch, before hurrying off to grab her a pillow and blanket, despite Maggie's protests.
"If you need anything, just shout," Charlie said as he handed Maggie a thick blanket. "Good night."
"Hey, Charlie?" Maggie called as Charlie headed towards the door. He turned on his heel and looked at Maggie with a confused expression. "I just wanted to say thank you – for before. And, well, for everything really."
"It's fine, Maggie," Charlie began but Maggie cut him off.
"No, seriously, I mean it," Maggie insisted, meeting his gaze. "You've got a habit of being there when I find myself in a fix."
"Is it a good or a bad habit?" Charlie asked with a grin and Maggie smiled, tilting her head in thought.
"I haven't quite decided yet," Maggie replied, her smile growing. "I'll let you know when I figure that part out."
Charlie chuckled before the pair wished each other good night. As Maggie reached to turn the light off and rested her head against the pillow, she could not help but feel alone. She wondered what Joe was doing, and whether he knew about all the chaos that had ensured.
As sleep slowly overcame her, the image of Joe in her mind slowly changed to Charlie but she was too tired to question it.
Maggie drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. In her dreams, images of Scaboir's snake-like eyes were always watching, while Charlie carried her through into the eerie darkness, only to look up to find herself in Scaboir's arms, unable to move ...
It was still dark when Maggie awoke but it was slightly lighter in the tent, signaling that dawn was near. After lying still for a few moments, trying to push away her dreams that still circled her mind, Maggie heard Mr Weasley enter the tent and quietly tell the girls it was time to go. From the adjoining room, she could hear Ginny and Hermione's quiet mumbles as the pair slowly rose.
Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Maggie threw the blanket off her form and winced when she noticed the state of her leg. While it was no longer bleeding, her ankle was a patchwork of red, blue and purple, and there were clear signs of swelling around the joint. With a sigh, Maggie tried to stand but the burning pain from her ankle as she put pressure on her foot sent Maggie collapsing back onto the couch, wincing in pain.
Thankfully, Ginny appeared by the couch and carefully helped Maggie to change the dressing that bound her ankle. After vanishing away the old, bloody bandages, Maggie grabbed her hoodie and managed to shimmy on a clean pair of cropped denim jeans which were thankfully less revealing than the pair of shorts she previously wore. Her shoes were another matter however, as the swelling of her ankle meant that her Doc Martens were unwearable. Ginny managed to find a battered pair of old flat pumps in the bottom of Maggie's rucksack which were easily slipped onto Maggie's feet.
With the help of Ginny and Hermione, Maggie managed to hobble out of the tent, leaning on the two girls for support. Once outside, Mr Weasley hurried them along as he quickly used magic to pack up the tents, handing Maggie Tonks' tent for safekeeping. Eyes still dazed from tiredness, the blonde witch did not notice Charlie's presence until he appeared beside her.
"Here," He said, gesturing to Hermione and Ginny. "I'll take her – it'll be easier."
"I'm not a total invalid," Maggie muttered as Charlie slinked an arm around her waist for support.
Charlie chuckled. "I know. Don't worry, I'll send you a bill for my services," He joked, and Maggie cracked a smile.
Once the tents were packed away, the group left the campsite as quickly as they could. Maggie and Charlie brought up the rear – Maggie's injured ankle meant that she had to limp along at a slow pace, despite using Charlie for support. She hissed in discomfort when her ankle buckled as she accidentally leaned on it, sending a throbbing pain throughout her leg.
"This isn't working," said Charlie as they stopped for a moment to let Maggie recover.
"I'm fine, honestly," Maggie tried to argue. "I just need a minute."
"We're going to fall behind if we go on like this," Charlie pointed out. "Here, I've got an idea. And before you say anything, there's no point being stubborn about it, you'll only damage your ankle even more by walking on it."
Maggie frowned as Charlie whistled Bill over, instructing him to support Maggie for a moment as his arm slid away from her waist. Frowning, Maggie watched in confusion as Charlie turned away from her and crouched down.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her tone wary.
"Isn't it obvious?" Charlie replied, looking up over his shoulder with a wide grin. "Piggyback."
"You've got to be joking," said Maggie incredulously.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Charlie grinned as a flicker of amusement flashed through his eyes. "Now, hop on."
"No way!" Maggie exclaimed, shaking her head vehemently.
"It is a good idea," Bill pointed out with an amused smile. "It means we won't be slowed down anymore.
"Oi!"
"You two were falling behind," Bill said, holding his hands up in defence. "Dad's already quite antsy, we don't want to make it worse by getting lost."
Maggie bit back a sigh. As much as she hated to admit it, Bill had a point. The Weasley family were already helping her out – she didn't want to put any more pressure on the family because she was too slow to keep up. With a defeated sigh, Maggie nodded.
"Fine," She conceded, looking at Charlie warily. "But if you drop me, I'll hex to all the way back to Romania."
Charlie playfully rolled his eyes. "You have no faith in me!"
While it was awkward at first, Maggie had to admit that this idea was better. Bill helped her to manoeuvre her way onto Charlie's back and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he slowly rose. Her legs fell around Charlie's waist and the wizard carefully looped his arms round them, securing Maggie in place.
They were quick to catch up with the rest of the group – Charlie seeming unaffected by carrying Maggie's weight. The blonde witch's cheeks burned red once again, from both embarrassment and that annoying feeling that flowed through her body. Once again, she cursed her earlier injury and tried to push away the rouge thoughts that circled her mind. Being so close to Charlie didn't help either – she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the supple firmness of his muscles, even the musky smell of his cologne...
Maggie was grateful that they reached the spot where the Portkeys lay, as she was having a hard time trying to ignore her infuriating thoughts. No matter how many times she convinced herself to ignore Charlie and focus on Joe, her mind was brought back to reality and the wizard who was currently carrying her.
By the time they managed to secure a Portkey, the sun had partly risen, casting a dull light over the campground. Crowds of people eager to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible were all around, clambering to get a Portkey away from the nightmare.
In the morning light, Maggie caught a better look at the damage inflicted the previous night and her stomach rolled at the sight. They past Mr Roberts – the campsite owner – on their way past, appearing dazed, and he waved them off with a mumble of 'Merry Christmas'.
"I hope he's alright," Maggie said quietly to Charlie, leaning closer so that he could hear. "Him, and his poor family. They didn't deserve that.
Charlie shook his head. "No, it was wrong place, wrong time and they drew the short straw," He replied, his voice low and sober.
"I hope they catch whoever did it," said Maggie, her eyes flickering to the ground.
"As much as I do too, I know they won't," Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "The Death Eaters last night were no doubt the ones who lied and bribed their way out of prosecution after the war – they'll most likely do the same again."
Maggie remained silent, Charlie's words ringing true in her ears. Thankfully, before anything else could be said, Mr Weasley beckoned them over. The group gathered round an old rubber tyre. Charlie gently placed Maggie down, his arm wrapping round her middle to support her once again. They quickly grabbed the Portkey and despite her injured ankle, Maggie managed to remain standing when they were pulled away from the campground in a whirl of colour – a small achievement that Maggie accepted.
Charlie once again offered to carry her back to the Burrow and despite her earlier protests, Maggie accepted his offer as her ankle began to throb from the Portkey travel. They arrived at Stoatshead Hill – Ginny helpfully informed Maggie where their Portkey was going earlier that morning – as the sun began to rise, signaling the early hour.
Charlie quietly explained to Maggie that the village they trekked through was called 'Ottery St Catchpole' and was the nearest muggle village to his childhood home. The early hour meant that no one else was around, leaving the group in silence as they walked through the village, exhausted. Eventually, the village led off into open fields and a single-track road, at which point they rounded a corner in the lane and a building came into view.
Nested amongst rolling hills and green meadows, The Burrow was clearly a wizarding house – it was several stories high and there was undoubtedly numerous charms in place to prevent the crooked house from toppling over. Oddly enough however, it looked homely and cosy, with multiple chimneys emerging from the cobbled roof and sash windows decorated the walls.
"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"
A cry rang through the air and Maggie's head snapped away from the building before her. A short, plump woman with flaming fiery red hair and warm brown eyes came running towards them. Maggie reasoned this to be Charlie's mother, Mrs Weasley. It was clear that she had been worried sick about her family – her face was pale and strained and she wore bedroom slippers as she hurried towards them. If Maggie had to guess, the woman had been waiting anxiously for her family to return, no doubt having heard about the chaos at the World Cup from the newspaper, which she had clutched in her hand.
She flung herself into Mr Weasley's arms, dropping the paper as she did. From her vantage point, Maggie recognised the newspaper to be The Daily Prophet. The headline screamed the words 'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE WORLD CUP', and Maggie found herself feeling grateful that her father was a muggle – he would be happily oblivious to the events of the previous night until Maggie told him.
"You're all alright..." Mrs Weasley muttered as she turned her gaze towards her children. "You're alive...oh boys..."
She seized Fred and George and pulled them into a tight hug, and from the shocked expressions on the rest of the Weasleys' faces, Maggie guessed this was unexpected.
"Ouch! Mum, you're strangling us!"
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley began to sob, pulling the boys in tighter. "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. ? Oh Fred...George..."
"Come now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr Weasley, soothingly rubbing his wife's shoulder as he prised her from the twins. "Bill, pick up that paper, I want to see what it says..."
Mr Weasley began to herd everyone indoors which was a tricky feat as Mrs Weasley began to hug each of her children as they entered the house, Harry and Hermione included. Charlie hung back as Maggie was still on his back and the blonde witch's stomach did somersaults at the awkwardness of the situation. It was only when Mrs Weasley turned to hug Charlie, that the elder witch noticed Maggie's presence.
"And who are you, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, not unkindly. Maggie felt her cheeks flush as the attention was put on her and she tried her best to smile.
"I'm Maggie," She replied softly, wishing that Charlie would put her down. "I went to school with Charlie – I'm sorry to intrude but-"
"Maggie got hurt at the World Cup," Charlie chirped in, motioning to the reddish-blue bruise on her ankle. "She couldn't apparate so I send she could Floo home from ours...Dad said it was alright -"
"Of course, it's alright dear!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, her eyes flickering from Charlie to Maggie. "Come right in, follow me now -"
It was only when they were crammed in the tiny kitchen did Charlie finally put Maggie down. After sending Ron a meaningful glare to move, Charlie gestured for Maggie to take the empty seat. Ron grumbled, moving to stand near to Harry as there weren't enough chairs for them all to sit. Maggie tried to protest but both Charlie and Mrs Weasley waved away her words.
While Hermione busied herself with making Mrs Weasley a cup of tea – Mr Weasley suggested pouring in a shot of Firewhiskey to calm the witch's nerves – Mrs Weasley took the vacant seat beside Maggie, offering the girl a kind smile. Bill handed his father the newspaper and the elder wizard began to read it, while Percy scanned the words from over his shoulder.
"I knew it," Mr Weasley said tiredly. "Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended...lax security...Dark wizards running unchecked...national disgrace... Who wrote this? Ah...of course...Rita Skeeter."
As Percy rambled about Skeeter's vendetta about the Ministry, Maggie grimaced, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the sound of the vile woman's name. Skeeter had torn Joe to shreds in her article about his accident – not to mention, completely misspelled Maggie's name! Though she was too tired to voice her opinion, Maggie found herself disagreeing with Percy's opinion. Skeeter didn't have a vendetta against the Ministry – she liked to stir the gossip on any platform, as long as it got people talking.
"Do us a favour, Perce," Bill yawned. "And shut up."
"I'm mentioned," Mr Weasley said suddenly, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Where?" Mrs Weasley spluttered, choking on her tea. Some liquid splashed on the table, so Maggie quickly spelled it away, earning a kind smile from the elder witch. "Thank you, dear. If I'd seen that, Arthur, I would have know you were alive!"
"Not by name," said Mr Weasley before he read aloud the extract. Once he'd finished, he 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," Percy said importantly, holding his head up high. "Mr Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my report in person."
Maggie caught Charlie's eye from across the table and she stifled a giggle when Charlie rolled his eyes at his brother. Percy did not notice however as he quickly bustled out of the kitchen.
"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "This hasn't got anything to do with your office, surely they can handle this without you?"
"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr Weasley as he rose to his feet. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off..."
As Mr Weasley left the kitchen, Harry spoke up, asking Mrs Weasley if any post had arrived. Maggie's eyes flickered down to her watch and when she realised the time, she reasoned she'd better head off. From across the table, Charlie noticed and with a small smile, rose to help her up.
"I'll manage," She insisted, hopping towards where the fireplace stood. "It's only a few feet."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay for a cup of tea?" Mrs Weasley chirped up, appearing beside Maggie. "Or a spot of breakfast? It's still early – Merlin knows with all that happened last night, you're bound to be famished."
"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley. I've intruded enough," said Maggie, with a small smile.
"It's no bother dear, you should be resting with your ankle in that state -" Mrs Weasley began but Maggie hurriedly cut her off.
"Honestly, Mrs Weasley, I really can't," Maggie said, her eyes flickering towards Charlie with a pleading look. "I should be getting home, Dad will be worried sick..."
Though she appeared slightly dejected, Mrs Weasley finally accepted Maggie's answer.
"Alright, dear. Perhaps another time?" She said softly and Maggie quickly gave a hurried nod.
She managed to hobble over to where the fireplace stood, Charlie beside it. She offered him an amused smirk and Charlie playfully shook his head.
"I'm sorry about that," He said with a chuckle. "Mum's not one to shy away from people – she's got a habit of taking in people and mothering them."
"I can see where you get it from then?" Maggie said playfully, cocking her head in an impish fashion. "What is my bill, then? Let's settle it now."
Charlie chuckled. "Let's call it quits, in light of you having the pleasure of Mum trying to swaddle you. I'd say that's probably payment enough."
Maggie laughed at his words, feeling the tingling feeling flush throughout her. For a moment, she didn't want to leave and was half tempted to take up Mrs Weasley's offer and stay for breakfast. But then an image of Joe flashed through her mind; he'd undoubtedly be worried sick, waiting anxiously for her return.
"I should get going," Maggie said slowly, her gaze flickering towards the floor. "Probably a good idea – I would murder someone for that Skel-Gro now."
Charlie smiled before grabbing a plant pot filled with Floo powder and holding it out towards Maggie. With a small, slightly sad smile, Maggie grabbed a handful before hopping into the fireplace. As she leaned against the chimney wall for support, she turned back and met Charlie's gaze.
"See you around, Weasley," Maggie said with a tight grin. "And remember – I don't want to have to go to Romania for any post-mortems."
Barking out a laugh, Charlie shook his head. "I'll be careful, don't you worry. Anyway, I might not be in Romania forever. I hope that bed's still got my name on it at St Mungo's – I might have to use it one day soon."
"Of course, it has," Maggie laughed. "You'll love the sign I made - specially reserved for Charlie Weasley, who found out dragons like the taste of gingers. I'll even make sure it's got a decent pillow."
"You look after me so well," Charlie joked, holding a hand to his chest in mock affection.
"Only the best for my patients," Maggie said with a smile. After a moment's pause, she shook her head and cried, "Flat 1, Highgate Road!"
Before the green flames engulfed her, Charlie looked as though he was about to speak, but Maggie saw the green fire flash before her eyes before she heard what he had said. Guilt trickled through her stomach as she knew she would unlikely see him for a long time.
"It's for the best," She muttered to herself as she appeared in the flat. "You have Joe."
After hopping over to the couch and tiredly sat on the couch, leaning back and resting her head against the pillows. She sighed and closed her eyes, tiredness catching up with her at once. Knowing there was plenty to do, Maggie groaned before summoning her workbag and grabbing the bottle of Skel-Gro. Though it didn't work quite as well as she had hoped, her ankle no longer felt painful when she stood. There was still an angry bruise patchworked round the joint, but Maggie reasoned it was the better alternative.
After having a quick shower, washing away the dirt that covered her, Maggie quickly changed into clean clothes. Though she debated making a cup of tea first, she finally settled on going over to Joe's first – he would want to know that she was alright. She Flooed straight over, half expecting him to be passed out on the plush sofa, asleep but instead she found an empty flat.
"Hello?" She called out, gently padding through into the kitchen. "Joe? Are you home?"
A piece of paper left on the kitchen table caught Maggie's eye. With a frown, she picked it up, finding it addressed to her. Reading over the words, Maggie let out a huff.
Hey, Maggie!
I've gone to a last-minute conference; Roger reckons it'll be good for me to put out some international connections! It's over in Berlin so I'll be gone for a few nights – I didn't want to owl and distract you from the World Cup!
I'll be back by Saturday and I've booked a table at that new Italian in Pimlico – my treat!
I hope you enjoyed the World Cup (hopefully Ireland won) and I'll see you on Saturday!
Love, Joe.
Maggie tried her best to hold back the groan, but it escaped her lips. Joe had probably written this before the match had even started. He'd probably have no idea about what had happened, especially if the Ministry was trying to control the situation. Rolling her eyes, she washed up the dirty plates that had been left on the side – typical Joe – before Flooing back to her own flat.
Tonks would still be at work and her dad would still be asleep which left Maggie to her own devices. A small meow caught her attention and Maggie could not help but smile as a fluffy grey ball of fur jumped onto the couch and curled up next to her.
"Hey, Bilbo," She smiled, stroking the cat behind his ear. "How have you been? You were worried about me, weren't you?"
The cat purred, rubbing his head against the witch's leg and Maggie let out a laugh.
"I know, it's just me and you, isn't it? But I'll tell you something; who needs company?"
The words tasted bitter on Maggie's tongue as she tried to kid herself into believing them. With a sigh, she picked up the television remote and began flicking through the channels.
All the while, she could not help but feel like she should have stopped at The Burrow.
