The next morning, Isabella and Bridgette were allowed to return to their tents. Patrick and Warren's tent had been completely destroyed, but the girl's tent was untouched. "Odd I thought they would be back by this time. Where could they be?" Mr. Weasley muttered, scratching his head in confusion. "Children, stay here for a bit. I'm going to see where those men have gone to. Bill, Charlie, you boys are in charge while I'm gone."
Mr. Weasley hurried away to find Patrick and Warren. Bridgette went inside her tent and found that someone had been in there. The evil wizards were looking for something but hadn't found it. Isabella noticed that her bed had been ripped to shreds, along with her favorite stuffed bunny. Its head was chopped off. She'd had the bunny since she was only three. There was a shiny object sticking out of the doll's severed neck. It appeared to be an old key to something. Isabella stuck the key in her pocket, but didn't tell anyone about it. "It doesn't look like this was a random attack," Charlie commented.
"They tore my autograph from Viktor Krum!" Bridgette gasped, picking up a few scraps of paper. She sifted through some other wreckage and discovered her father's wallet. That didn't make sense. Why would his wallet be in her tent unless he has been there? Things weren't adding up right. Isabella noticed the strange things as well. Nothing had been stolen and nothing valuable was broken (besides Isabella's bunny), which seemed strange. It was almost like Patrick and Warren were looking for something in particular, but what did they want? Neither girl carried an object of importance.
Isabella went back outside when she heard voices near the tent. There were three men, quite possibly all three fathers. The shock of red hair signaled the return of Mr. Weasley. "Hello Isabella, did you sleep last night? Patrick asked after him and Warren Apparated. Mr. Weasley, who'd been talking with two other wizards, jumped back in surprise. "Arthur! I didn't mean to spook you. Those horrid wizards left once they saw the Dark Mark."
"The bad news is that the Ministry of Magic needs us at work. Apparently, there's quite an uproar going on and we've got to meet Cornelius Fudge down at the Ministry. However, the girls can't be left alone," Warren sighed. He never once noticed that his tent was completely trashed. That made Isabella suspicious. Bridgette emerged from the tent and groaned. Her father was the last person she wanted to see at the moment.
"I wouldn't mind letting the girls stay in my house. School starts in a week and your daughters could spend time with their new friends," Mr. Weasley suggested. Patrick seemed a little hesitant about letting his daughter stay with a wizard he didn't know too well. Isabella made a comment that she and Bridgette could stay in Diagon Alley. Warren knew the girls wanted to explore Knockturn Alley, which was strictly forbidden. He discussed the situation with Patrick for a moment. The two realized it was best for the girls to go with Mr. Weasley. "Don't you worry about them. My wife and I will take care of Isabella and Bridgette."
Patrick and Warren said their good-byes before Disapperating to the Ministry. Mr. Weasley ushered all nine of the younger witches and wizards to find the Portkey. Bill was the first one to spot it. They were going to use an old tire to get to Stoatshead Hill, where the Weasleys lived. "We're in for a bit of a walk," Ron warned as they began the journey to the Burrow. Bridgette groaned upon hearing that she had to do more walking. "Just so you know, the Burrow isn't the fanciest place in England, but we call it home. You'll like it once you're there."
"I'm sure we'll love it. Ron thanks again for letting us stay with your family. We owe you one," Isabella said. She wished her father had been less vague as to why the Ministry in England needed the American Minister of Magic. Another part of her missed her dragon. Bridgette gasped when she saw the Burrow. It was rundown, but it looked beautiful. She and Isabella lived in New York, which was a concrete jungle. The Burrow was surrounded by an endless field of lush, emerald grass. "We really should come to England more often. I don't see why my mother left this place."
Isabella's mother, Marigold, lived in Liverpool, England her entire life. She went to Hogwarts as a young witch and was in the Ravenclaw house. After leaving school, she worked for the Ministry of Magic as an Ambassador. On a visit to America, she met Patrick and they got married. Marigold's parents still lived in England, but her father had disappeared nearly fourteen years earlier. Mabel, Isabella's grandmother, claimed her husband had died. The whole family accepted that, even though there wasn't a funeral. "Girls, welcome to our home!" Mr. Weasley announced, bringing Isabella back to reality.
A plump woman, also with red hair, came flying down the short lane when they reached the house. She bawled as she hugged the twins, apologizing for yelling at them before they'd left. Each child received a hug, including Isabella and Bridgette. "Wait a moment, who are you two? I don't believe we've ever met before," the red headed woman commented, eyeing the girls closely. She stepped back to get a better view, but still didn't know who the two girls were. "Arthur, who are these girls that you've brought home? Are they friends of the kids from school?"
"Molly, this is Bridgette Welch and Isabella Scott, whose father is the American Minister of Magic. Their fathers have been asked to aid the Ministry in the investigation of last night's incident. I offered to let their daughters stay with us until they leave for Hogwarts," Mr. Weasley explained. Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily. That didn't sound like a good sigh.
"We don't take up much space and we're willing to help out around the house. Honestly, we weren't expecting to be left in the care of Mr. Weasley so suddenly," Bridgette pointed out, hoping Mrs. Weasley would let them stay. Fortunately, she was a very kind, warm person. While walking down the lane, Bill scooped up the Daily Prophet. There were several pictures from the attacks, entitled, "Scenes of Terror at the Quidditch World Cup." Underneath a photograph of the Dark Mark was a picture of Isabella holding her wand. There was a lengthy article accusing her of conjuring up the Dark Mark. Bill noticed who wrote the article and groaned.
Rita Skeeter was a reporter who was notorious for stretching the truth a bit. She had damaged the reputations of many witches and wizards. Mr. Weasley skimmed the article before crumpling the paper into a ball. "No matter what Rita Skeeter says, I think Isabella is totally innocent. No sixteen year old is capable of conjuring the Dark Mark," Mr. Weasley muttered. Bill nodded in agreement as they stepped inside. "Molly, I'm afraid I need to go to work. There are a couple of things that need to be smoothed over."
He stared directly at Isabella, who was talking to Ginny about her home in New York. Percy decided to go to the Ministry of Magic in order to help sort things out. "I don't think she'll be found guilty for last night. Who in their right mind would accuse a young girl of such a terrible crime?" Mrs. Weasley asked, handing Mr. Weasley his robes. Bill looked up from the crumpled newspaper and shook his head.
"A person could be sent to Azkaban for life if accused of such crimes," Charlie commented. The living room fell completely silent. "It's true Fudge won't take any chances after last night. He'll send the wizard or witch he thinks is most guilty straight to prison."
"Well, won't Cornelius Fudge feel like a fool when he finally realizes that I didn't do it?" Isabella asked. She knew she was facing some serious accusations, but she didn't care. Each person returned to their own activity when Mr. Weasley and Percy left. Fire suddenly appeared in the fireplace then a person emerged. It was a woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes. Mrs. Weasley immediately held up her wand but Isabella asked her to put it away. "That's my mother, although I have no idea why she's here."
"So sorry to intrude, but when Patrick called me on the phone and told me that my daughter was here I- Molly! Molly is that really you?" asked Marigold, wiping some soot from her robes. Mrs. Weasley began to laugh when she recognized her old school mate. The two mothers were excited to see each other after so many years. "Yes, well, I was wondering if the girls could stay here for the week. I'll be back to help send them all off, but I'm not sure about Merlin. He's a bit small so he shouldn't be too much trouble. I am a trifle worried about your furniture. His claws would shred all this in a day."
"Pardon me, but who is Merlin?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Merlin is Isabella's dragon. He's about the size of a cat and he's very tame," Marigold replied. When Charlie heard the word, "dragon," his eyes lit up. The younger Weasleys begged their mother to let Isabella and Bridgette stay for the week. Mrs. Weasley agreed to let the girls and the dragon stay in the Burrow. Bill, Charlie, Fred and George were chosen to carry the trunks. Ginny pulled out her wand and started a fire in the fireplace. Some Floo powder was thrown in, making the fire green. Marigold went first, followed closely by the older Weasley boys.
A few minutes later, all five of them returned. A small cage was placed in Isabella's arms. The boys placed both trunks in a corner with several others. "Why don't you stay for a bit Marigold? I'll fix some tea with Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," Mrs. Weasley offered as a gray creature emerged from the cage. Merlin stretched his wings before sitting on Isabella's feet. He looked at the new place with curious eyes. Charlie was fascinated by the miniature dragon, since he studied dragons in Romania. Bridgette pulled out a copy of Difficult Spells for Defense, which she had almost finished, and settled herself on the couch.
The week seemed to fly by. Mr. Weasley and Percy spent most of their time at work. Patrick stopped by twice to make sure Isabella hadn't been hurt. He still didn't say much about what he was doing. The second time he came to visit, he brought Isabella a gift. "I'm afraid I can't explain the reason behind this, but it'll come in handy in certain tasks. Your mother and I will meet you at the train station to see you off. Warren is coming too" Patrick said as Isabella opened the gift. In the box was a small, silver knife. In her old school, weapons like knives weren't allowed. Somehow, this gift seemed very inappropriate.
Patrick went on to explain that something big was going to happen at Hogwarts but he couldn't tell her anything else. Before Isabella could ask anymore questions, he suddenly had to leave. She tucked the knife away in her trunk. "Bella, what breed of dragon is Merlin?" Charlie asked. He had become fascinated with her pet. All week, he'd been playing with Merlin. He even borrowed a book from Bridgette to see if the answer was within its pages.
"Merlin is a Bulgarian Smooth-Skinned Ridgeback. He was very sick as a baby, so he never really grew," she replied. Charlie scribbled a few quick notes on some parchment as she pointed out certain features on her dragon. Merlin has a series of spikes on his back which were short and rounded, along with his smooth skin. "He's a really rare breed, so some wizards want me to send him to a colony. I'm too attached to him so I can't let him go."
Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was ready. All eleven children, a fluffy ginger cat and a dark gray dragon hurried outside to the two enormous picnic tables. Bridgette took a seat between Ginny and George, who had a "special interest" in a certain American girl. Isabella sat across from Bridgette, between Charlie and Fred. "Since we're all leaving tomorrow, we're eating a big dinner. Mum always makes a big meal before go off to school," Ron warned as several dishes appeared on the table. Each dish had a different food on it. "It's too bad that Dad and Percy can't be here."
Bridgette took a long look at her choices. Some of the food looked completely foreign to her. She'd never heard of steak and kidney pie before. "George, be a dear and help Bridgette. I think she's a bit overwhelmed," Mrs. Weasley said as Charlie piled some mashed potatoes on Isabella's plate.
"I'm not George, Mum! He's George!" he shouted indignantly, pointing across the table to his twin.
"Honestly, what kind of mother are you, woman? Can't you tell one son form the other?" the other twin cried. Mrs. Weasley sighed in frustration. "Just kidding Mum. He is George and I am Fred."
Everyone had a good laugh at the prank. Bridgette nervously tried the steak and kidney pie. She didn't want to offend her host by seeming rude. To her surprise, it wasn't bad at all. George set some of his roasted chicken on the seat so Merlin could enjoy the food as well. They stayed outside as the sky turned orange. All of their problems seemed to disappear as fireflies floated around. Crookshanks, the ginger colored cat that belonged to Hermione, chased gnomes around the yard. Merlin managed to catch a gnome with his teeth and proudly presented it to Isabella. She released the frightened gnome as George commented, "That's one smart dragon you've got, Bella."
"He also knows how to roll over and play dead. I'm trying to teach him to sit but Merlin gets distracted way too easily," she replied. When the sky became black and all the stars were out, Mrs. Weasley called them all into the house for bed. Tomorrow morning, they would be at the train station, leaving for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bridgette and Isabella had to sleep in the living room because there wasn't enough room for everyone in the Burrow. Merlin curled up on the couch, smoke rings coming from his nose.
Isabella couldn't sleep because she was so nervous about going to a new school. After staring at the ceiling for a long time, she finally fell asleep, only to have a strange dream. In the dream, there was a maze. She found a shiny object which took her to a cemetery. A large group of wizards in black robes had gathered around an old cauldron. Two other young wizards were standing next to her. A strange, green light was heading towards them. The wizard on her right, who had short brown hair and brown eyes, threw Isabella to the ground. "Look out, Bella! He used Avada Kedavra!" the boy shouted as the light came closer.
Before he could get out of the way, the light struck him. Avada Kedavra was another Unforgivable Curse, one that killed a person. Very few wizards used it. Only evil wizards used the Killing Curse to murder their enemies. More people in black robes were appearing. That was when Isabella woke up, drenched in sweat. Had she seen into the future or was it just a nightmare? "Bridgette, wake up! Something really weird is going!" she whispered in a terrified voice.
"Can it wait until morning?" Bridgette groaned, pulling her blanket over her head. Isabella ripped the covers back since she had to talk about her nightmare. "Bella, it's late and we're leaving here early in the morning. Go to sleep!"
"Someone might die and I just saw how he's going to die!" Isabella hissed. Bridgette quickly sat up and listened as her friend described the nightmare in full detail. Somehow, describing the dream made it even more frightening than seeing it. When she explained about the murder, Bridgette gasped. They now had another mystery on their hands. What did Isabella's dream mean and who was murdered? "To make things even more messed up, my father gave me a silver knife and said it would come in handy for certain tasks. He couldn't tell me anything else."
Bridgette pulled her wand out and muttered, "Lumos!" She took a piece of parchment before scribbling something down. "Ok, first, our fathers start acting weird, then Patrick gives you a knife and now you're having prophetic dreams. I think these events are related somehow. From now on, if anything that can't be explained happens, write it down. We've got to solve this mystery before that boy is murdered."
The parchment was folded and tucked away in Bridgette's trunk. Neither girl could sleep peacefully. The thought of seeing someone's death really frightened them, even though they had no idea who this person was. As the sun rose, Isabella was still wondering what was going on. Undoubtedly, her father had to be involved. He had the Dark Mark on his arm, which meant he was once a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort. There had to be a connection between her father and Voldemort. "It's hard to think that my dad could be a part of an evil organization. If my mother was in it too, would that make me a Death Eater?" Isabella wondered.
There was no sign of the Dark Mark on her arms so she couldn't be a Death Eater. Surely her parents would have told her if they were involved with the wrong crowd. Isabella then made one possible connection. Maybe the wizards in black robes in her dream were Death Eaters. The boys who were standing by her were targets of the evil wizards. One Death Eaters tried to kill Isabella but the brown-eyed boy pushed her out of the way. She'd never met him before, but he knew her.
The other boy had dark hair and green eyes. He wore glasses too. His face seemed familiar for some strange reason. There was a mark on his face, a scar from an earlier injury. Isabella then realized the evil wizards were only after her and the boy with glasses. She now knew who that boy was.
Harry Potter.