Just finished my last day of classes yesterday! Now that it's summer, I'm hoping that I can write and publish a lot more :). Anyway, on with the chapter!

Chapter 5

The Portkey

Rachel felt as if she'd barely had a second of sleep when Mrs. Weasley shook her awake.

"Wake up, Rachel dear," she whispered. "You've got to get up and get dressed, breakfast will be down in a minute… Ginny, you too, wake up…"

Rachel yawned and turned around, burying herself deeper into her pillow, wanting to go back to sleep again. She heard Mrs. Weasley wake up Hermione, who groaned with annoyance, and then she felt herself slowly nod off to sleep again.

It felt like only seconds later that Mrs. Weasley's voice was back again.

"Really, girls," she said, turning on the light. Rachel, Hermione, and Ginny groaned. "Get up now, get dressed, breakfast is ready already."

"Yes, M-Mum," yawned Ginny, and Rachel sat up and stretched out her arms, hearing her bones crack and pop from her position.

Rachel groaned and peered at Hermione and Ginny; they looked pale and drowsy. She noticed that she looked the same when she glanced into Ginny's mirror.

"Up you get," said Mrs. Weasley, and she left again.

Rachel dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to get some jeans and a jumper. Once she'd changed, she brushed half her hair before deciding she wouldn't bother with it, and she threw it up in a ponytail.

"Are we good to go?" said Ginny, who was rubbing her cheeks in an attempt to pinken up her skin.

Rachel and Hermione hummed and they headed downstairs. They heard voices in the kitchen, and saw that Harry, Ron, Lukas, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley were already downstairs with Mrs. Weasley.

"Why do we have to be up so early?" said Ginny, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table. Rachel sat down as well, leaning just about all her weight against Lukas.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr. Weasley.

"What?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "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 on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup—"

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What's that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakeably more Ton-Tongue Toffees (Harry had told them she story of how his cousin had eaten them the night before, which had made Rachel and Lukas roll on the floor out of laughter). "We told you to get rid of the lot Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It wasn't a pleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother, as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh, a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O. !"

It was quiet after that, which Rachel, who was still half-asleep, didn't mind much. She leaned on Lukas as she ate her breakfast, and he had to begrudgingly drag her off to get her out of her chair to get their rucksacks. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek. The twins, however, had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, receiving no answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday."

Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Rachel, Lukas, and Ginny sped after Fred and George in the chilly morning. The moon was still out, and there was only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to tell them that daybreak was drawing closer. Rachel kept quiet, yawning every now and then as Lukas asked Ron what Portkeys were.

"It's a thing that you touch, and it'll take you somewhere else at a specific time," Ron explained to Lukas, Rachel, and Hermione. "Ours is up on the top of Stoatshead Hill. There's dozens of Portkeys placed around Britain for the World Cup."

Ron pointed ahead of them at the large black mass that rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"Portkeys can be anything, can't they?" said Lukas curiously.

"Yes, they can," Ron nodded.

They remained quiet for the rest of the walk.

They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, their footsteps the only thing they can hear. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Rachel was cold and she wanted desperately to sleep a little more, or stop for a cup of coffee.

They barely talked as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuggets of grass. When they finally found level ground, Rachel was very thankful and rubbed her aching legs.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time—we've got ten minutes…"

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big… come on…"

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Four figures—three tall, one short—were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric, and his nephew and niece, Zaine and Amelia?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff house Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Zaine Shaw looked a bit different than Cedric, with his curly blond hair and bright green eyes, which sparkled behind his glasses when he saw Rachel.

"Rae, good summer?" said Zaine, greeting Rachel with a very tight hug. "You look very good!"

"Thanks," said Rachel, blushing. "You do too, Zaine. Hey, Amy!"

Rachel hugged Amy as Cedric said hi, looking around at them all.

Everybody said "Hi" back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? Zaine? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still… not complaining… Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons—and the tickets cost about that Mind you, looks like I got off easy…" Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, the Haney twins, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

Zaine gave a small snort beside Rachel.

"Oh, no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's—and that's Rachel and Lukas, they're twins, friends of Ron's as well—and Harry, another friend—"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er—yeah," said Harry, and Rachel could feel the awkwardness he emitted.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing you last year… I said to him, I said—Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will… you beat Harry Potter!"

Harry was quiet. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you… it was an accident…"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"It must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off… we'd better get ready…"

He looked around at Harry, Hermione, Rachel, and Lukas. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do—"

With difficulty, owing to the bulky backpacks, the thirteen of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.

They stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. Rachel felt a bit silly, touching a manky old boot in the semi-darkness.

"Three…" muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two… one…"

It happened immediately; it felt as though a hook just behind Rachel's navel suddenly jerked forwards. Her feet had left the ground, and she could feel Zaine and Ron on either side of her, their shoulders banging together. They all sped forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour, and Rachel's finger was stuck to the boot.

At last, Rachel's feet slammed into the ground and she nearly stumbled over had Zaine not grabbed her arm to help her balance. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Cedric, Zaine, and Rachel were the only ones standing, looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground. The Portkey hit the ground with a heavy thud.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.