Chapter 7: VACATION FROM PRIVET DRIVE
After arriving at the Burrow, which took an extremely long time because they had to come using normal roads, they ate dinner. Hermione was there as well. Harry spent the next few hours practicing on bending a fork without a wand, even if all he could do was make the tip move a tiny bit.
Mr. Weasley was speechless Harry managed to do anything without a wand and was even more at a loss for words when he was finally able to a prongs bend in half just before they had to go to bed. Harry decided, with Raides' approval ("MY GOD, THE THING TRANSFORMS?" Mr. Weasley bellowed when he first saw Raides become a lion), to just use his wand since he wouldn't get enough practice without it. Him, Ron, Raides and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting in the kitchen, Harry holding a fork before him.
"I'm going to lose my wand," he assured them. "I just know it."
"Don't be so cynical, dear," Mrs. Weasley said comfortingly.
"I don't go looking for disasters," he replied. "They go looking for me."
Raides glared at him, pointing her scarlet tail at him threateningly. She shared Mrs. Weasley's point of view.
"Ah, what am I making a big deal out of it for," she said finally, dropping her tail and resting her head on her paws. "But I still want you to try to do magic without a wand at school whenever you can."
Harry put the fork back in the drawer and nodded at Raides.
"Now get some sleep, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, standing up. She cleaned all the dinner plates with a wave of her own wand and magicked them all back into the cabinets. "We have to get up at the crack of dawn to be there for pre-game talks and practice."
Harry, fully satisfied he would be able to catch Spiked Snitch without some extravagant episode, along with "good lucks" from Ron's two older brothers, Bill and Charlie, had a good night's sleep. Ron's third oldest brother, Percy, who worked for the Ministry of Magic, had kept himself boarded up in his room ("I'm working but yes, I'll come. Just leave me alone!"). Harry didn't think much of it; Percy had always been a hard worker, if a little hard to talk to.
"How are we getting there?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley the next morning over breakfast.
"Well, Bill, Percy and Charlie are all Disapparating but as -- you three," he added, noting Ginny's late arrival, "haven't -- er -- passed your test, this year they set up a fire and connected it to the Floo Network. We'll be using that."
Harry thought longingly of the day he could Disapparate.
"When do we learn how, anyway?" Ron asked Mr. Weasley.
"They take seventh years down to Hogsmeade during Charms a few times to practice. I daresay, some students don't do so well on the first try," Mr. Weasley said grimly.
Just then, Raides came trodding down the stairs, looking for her morning breakfast, which included everything from spiders to troll heart soup.
"Over there next to the sink," Mrs. Weasley told her. Then Mrs. Weasley sat frozen in her seat while the seven foot lion propped her front paws on the counter, clamped her powerful jaws around the bowl of troll heart soup and set it carefully down on the floor, not spilling a drop.
Sipping it as peacefully as a cat drinking milk, she paused for a moment, yawned, and said, "If you want, I could Disapparate all of you to wherever you have to go."
Ron looked at his mother with a sparkle in his eye. "Can we, mom?"
Harry kept eating his toast and felt Mrs. Weasley's eyes on him.
"All of us?" she said, her voice rising to a squeak as she spoke.
Raides took one more sip of her soup, paused for a second and then said, without the slightest change on her beautiful, golden face, "Honey, if you think the mark of ancients was powerful, you ain't seen nothin' yet," and went back to eating.
Ron looked at Harry eagerly.
Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron and said, "Only if Harry doesn't mind." She didn't pay much attention to how eager Ron was to Disapparate. Harry then looked at Ron.
"I don't mind," he said, grinning.
"Okay, but that only gives us another hour or so," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. And then, to everyone's relief she smiled. "No, Arthur, we don't have to get up when it's still dark out now."
Mr. Weasley turned slightly red and excused himself from the table.
"Come on, Harry," said Hermione pointedly and standing up. "You will wanna see what Fred and George are working on." Ron was pointing his head at a hallway, evidently trying to give Harry a hint he didn't understand.
Just then, a voice in Harry's head came. "Ron's got a point. Better go upstairs."
Listening to Raides' advice, Harry followed Ron and Hermione through the hallway and up the zig-zagging, rickety stairs, leading to the Burrow's many upper floors. From the outside, the house looked so oddly shaped that the only way it could ever stand without falling was because, Harry suspected, it was held by up magic.
"Dad's been getting up early so often now because of Voldemort," Ron told Harry. "Been giving him a hard time because he has to stay for so long these days..."
They approached Percy's room. Percy, upon hearing them coming up, snapped the door shut with a wave of his wand.
"They're giving Percy a run for his money, too," Ron said as they approached his room. "I'd like to see Voldemort come after you with that staff! Ha!"
The sound of breaking china and repeated yelling echoed up the stairs from downstairs.
"Mom's not getting on too well," Ron explained. "Dad's barely home. Having a grand old time covering up all of the stuff with Voldemort. He also said they wouldn't even let you play Fire Quidditch if we didn't find Raides."
"That's okay," Harry told Ron. "I wouldn't want to."
Ron's room was a shocking orange color. It was covered with posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, all of them moving and showing the players at their best. One poster that startled Harry was of the Seeker: she jumped off her broom to catch the Golden Snitch.
"Oh!" shrieked Hermione suddenly, making Ron and Harry jump. "I forgot all about it. Ron, tell him what you heard!"
They sat themselves separately on one of each of the five beds placed in the room. It was rather cramped.
"What?" Harry asked curiously.
"The Tri-wizard Tournament! Ron overheard his dad talking about it to his mom!"
"Didn't they have enough trouble with that last time?" Harry groaned flatly, a dull look in his eye. Ron's eyes, however, were twinkling. "Oh, no," said Harry, cottoning on. "No way..."
"See, Ron," said Hermione who was glaring at the side of Ron's head. "I told you he wouldn't want to, didn't I?"
Ron turned to look at her, his smile slowly ebbing away. "Wasn't there a bit of a fight the last time you said 'I told you so?'" he retorted.
Harry successfully stifled himself from laughing as Hermione tutted.
"I'm leaving. Where's Cho and Ginny?" said Hermione, not noticing Harry's great internal struggle.
"I don't know," said Ron hotly. "I don't have the mind of a girl."
Hermione stood up, did an about face and marched out of the room.
"I'm glad you finally came," said Ron. Harry could hear the loud slamming of a door that could only be Ginny's. "She's UNBEARABLE. Fleur stopped talking to me and Hermione said she knew it would happen. But then I laughed when Viktor stopped talking to her and she's been upset at me ever since. So how are you and Cho doing?" he added, forcing his face to a smile.
Viktor Krum was a world-famous Quidditch player for Bulgaria. Only eighteen when Harry first saw him play, Krum was easily the best player Harry had ever seen and was something of an idol to Harry's friend, Ron. Krum played Seeker, the same position Harry played for Gryffindor.
"Oh, great," Harry said, avoiding Ron's eyes and turning slightly red. "And I haven't blown my aunt up yet, either."
Ron chuckled. "So how about that Fire Quidditch match tomorrow, eh?" Harry watched as Ron's eyes turned from a sullenness to happiness.
For the rest of the day, each time Ron and Hermione ended up in the same room, a few words were exchanged and Hermione would stomp out, waiting for Ron to do so first. Only a few years ago had they gotten into such a big arguement. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, had been framed as having eaten Scabbers, Ron's old rat that wasn't really a rat, but Wormtail, disguised for many years. Wormtail faked his own death (again) by biting himself and leaving the blood on Ron's bedsheets. Ron immediately pointed the blame on Crookshanks. It wasn't until Hermione found Scabbers hidden in Hagrid's cabin, which rested on the front grounds of Hogwarts near the forbidden forest, that their friendship was repaired.
Ron and Hermione separately coached Harry, with Raides overseeing Harry's progress, on bending the prongs of a fork. Harry eventually gave up.
"Look, forget it," he said dismissively. "I can't get any farther than making one prong bend in half. It's just not happening."
Harry was looking straight at Hermione. He could see something very odd: her lips were becoming thinner and she raised her hand. Hermione then did something Harry never thought she was capable of: she slapped him. Immediately after, however, she looked positively mortified as Harry rubbed the red spot her hand had left on his cheek.
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she apologized, covering her mouth with a hand. "It's just... well... I mean, Ron and his -- I just want to see you do it..."
"It's okay," said Harry, "really. Cheer up, Hermione. You two'll be friends again in no time," he added, not believing a word of it.
Hermione was slightly warmer to Ron after this but Ron kept his "never talk to me again" stance.
Harry spent the rest of the day going between Ginny's room with Cho and Hermione and Ron's room where, after lunch, Fred and George stopped by and annoyed Ron by Apparating in.
"They've never stopped ever since they passed their test," Ron whispered to Harry longingly as Fred and George went to their room to get something.
"You ever ask them to show you how to do it?" Harry asked.
"My mom won't let them show me," said Ron, a dull look in his eye. "She said Fred splinched himself once and doesn't want me to do that."
The first time Harry heard the word splinched, he had absolutely no idea how horrible splinching oneself could be. He since learned that it meant to leave part of your body behind while attempting to Disapparate.
"George was going on about it for weeks, he just couldn't stop laughing. Fred said nothing ever hurt so bad and didn't Disapparate for two weeks." Feeling thoroughly jealous of Fred and George, Ron picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans sitting on his desk and began to eat them.
Fred and George came in just as Ron sat down again carrying something that Harry immediately frowned at.
"They're selling like hotcakes, Harry," Fred said. He held out his hand and sitting in it was a miniaturized version of Harry wearing his Hogwarts robes clutching an even smaller Staff of Cybele. "They don't do anything, they just sit there."
"I made one just to see if I could do it," George explained. "Fred said stick it in the front window. All of a sudden we get hundreds of requests." He grinned. "Can't deny the public what they want, Harry," he added, noting the redness in Harry's face.
"Just don't expect to sell me one," Harry said.
"We're trying to make an edible version," George went on, still grinning, "that puts a scar on your forehead temporarily but the best we can do is make your forehead hurt a little -- shame, really."
Harry wasn't listening to a word of it.
"Can you -- er -- show me how to Disapparate?" he asked George cautiously. "Your mom won't let you show Ron but what's stopping you from showing me?" said Harry, smiling innocently.
"But you already know how, don't you?" George asked. Harry looked at him funny-like. "The mark of ancients. Didn't you -- ?"
"With the mark, I could just think of doing magic and it would happen," Harry said. "I didn't have to do much of anything..."
"Oh, so in that case, well, Professor Flitwick always said concentrate hard on where you want to end up and picture yourself there. You better close your eyes and get a good picture because you don't want to end up splinching yourself, right Fred?" George said cheerily.
Fred shot George a quick, fake smile.
"Honestly, Ron, don't try it until Professor Flitwick starts doing it. Just ask Fred how much getting splinched hurts! Harry's got a better shot at it than you do."
Harry turned slightly redder.
"Just try doing it across the room, Harry," said Fred. "Put your arms at your sides and point your wand down."
Harry brought back the memory of the time he Disapparated with the mark of ancients to Azkaban. Sirius had been recaptured after he had escaped Azkaban once and was sent back before anyone except Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore knew he was innocent. Harry had attempted to free him, which worked -- for the most part...
He closed his eyes and pictured himself three feet ahead of where he was standing.
"Do I have to say anything?" he asked, eyes still closed.
"It's one of the more complicated Charms, actually," Fred said. "But most people end up able to do it without words. Wave your wand and say 'Deliquesco.' Just make sure you're concentrating hard because getting splinched hurts..."
Harry took a deep breath, waited a few moments and shouted "Deliquesco!" waiting any moment for a lot of pain. For a split second, he suddenly felt like he was traveling at the speed of light, feeling very cold. He heard the familiar popping noise which stopped the speeding sensation as suddenly as it started.
"ON YOUR FIRST TRY?" Ron thundered.
Harry opened his eyes. He was exactly three feet in front of where he just was a second ago.
Fred and George grinned at him. Ron frowned.
"Now try it without your wand?" Fred suggested.
Harry walked to the corner of the room and closed his eyes again, this time picturing himself standing at the door. He stood there for a good minute, wishing himself to Disapparate, but nothing happened...
"Well, I would have given you a free month's supply of Harry Potter models if you did it without a wand on the first try, too," said George.
Harry clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. It worked! For a split second he felt the intense sensation of speed... but something wasn't exactly right. During the entire split second, another intense feeling was growing, one of horrible pain around his mid section.
Harry had Disapparated but only his top half had moved. His body was sliced diagonally down the middle, thankfully not exposing his insides, just a slab of skin stretched across the separation. His upper body fell to the ground at the door and his legs and lower body were standing weirdly without the rest of itself. Ron was about to lose his lunch.
Harry let out one long, continous scream that easily filled the house as Ron clamped his hands to his ears.
"George, quick, get Raides," said Fred, a grave expression on his face.
George bolted out of the room as Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed up the house. "What are you doing up there!"
Still howling, now Hermione, Cho and Ginny having entered the room, Harry clawed his way towards his lower body. Raides entered not a moment to soon when Harry was about to pass out from the stabbing pain.
"Harry, what the hell?" said Raides as if nothing was wrong. "You can fix that yourself --"
"I DON'T CARE AT THE MOMENT! I'M HURTING A LOT, IF YOU DON'T MIND!" he roared.
"Someone stick me in his hand," said Raides, having transformed back into the grandeur Staff of Cybele. Ron did so. "Repeat after me, Harry... Adiungo haec --"
"ADIUNGO HAEC --"
"Corpus semel denuo."
"CORPUS SEMEL DENUO!"
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had just entered the room as a golden glitter escaped the crystal ball of the staff and surrounded Harry's separated body. His lower body fell down and the golden glitter turned into a white glow. Harry felt himself being dragged along the floor (his eyes were closed and they were tearing madly). When he had been cleanly reattached, the pain stopped and the white glow disappeared back into the crystal ball.
Raides transformed back into the great, golden and scarlet lion.
Mr. Weasley stuck his hand out for Harry to grab onto and Harry pulled, standing himself up. Mrs. Weasley looked from one guilty face to the next and Harry thought her lips were so thin that they were going to disappear. He wished he hadn't bothered to ask how to Disapparate as he rubbed the tears of great pain out of his eyes.
"I'm not going to ask," she said loudly and sharply. "You just be glad Raides is here." Mrs. Weasley was struggling to find more incriminating things to say but her mouth was moving without any sound -- it was rather like watching a silent movie. "Get ready for dinner," she said at last. "And now you know, good at it or not, getting splinched hurts," she added matter-of-factly, turning on her heel and leaving Ron's room.
Harry rubbed the area where, just a minute ago, his body had been split in two. It still stung a little. Harry, Ron, Fred and George all exchanged glances and nodded in agreement: that was dumb. Hermione looked like she was about to say "I told you so," but kept silent at the look on Ron's face (but he was still clearly horrified at seeing someone get splinched).
By the time dinner was ready, even if she still had words to say, Mrs. Weasley kept them to herself so they could have a nice, peaceful dinner. She kindly asked Harry to use the Staff of Cybele to conjure one long table into the garden as she knew the nine weasleys plus Harry, Cho and Hermione would not fit in the kithen. One white glow of the crystal conjured a long, wooden table out of thin air. A second glow, this time a grayish, made an equally large table cloth shoot out of the crystal tip and cover the table neatly. Then a third and fourth glow of the crystal had conjured chairs, napkins, plates, knives and forks.
After finishing, Raides joined Hermione's cat Crookshanks in chasing gnomes around the garden. No bigger than a tomato but certainly hard for a small cat to catch, they were considerably more scared of Raides than the comparably tiny, ginger cat with a squashed face that was Crookshanks. Part of the reason, everyone joked, was that Raides was seven feet long with teeth to match... Out of boredness, Raides picked Crookshanks up by wrapping her long, powerful, scarlet tail around Crookshank's mid-section. She dropped him right on top of a gnome and, getting help or not, Crookshanks was happy: he sank his teeth into the gnome's finger and it scampered away. To Harry, Raides was rather like the pet dog or cat that he never had. Sure, he had Hedwig, but she couldn't talk. On second thought, Harry realized, Raides was a wizard's pet and not a Muggle's. He would still be just as warm to Hedwig when he saw her again; they had been too good of friends for too long to stop now. He wished Hedwig didn't have to stay at the Burrow while Aunt Marge was infesting Privet Drive...
The very first thing that Harry noticed the next morning was that Ginny was actually talking to Cho and not making strange faces at her. That either meant that Cho had told Ginny that she no longer liked Harry or some kind of ancient magical miracle had been performed while he had been asleep. To find out for sure, Harry cornered Hermione as she left the table and asked her which one was it.
"Neither," Hermione whispered to him. "Cho and Ginny are just starting get along, that's all, but all they've been talking about is you and -- no offense -- it's been driving me absolutely bonkers."
Harry felt himself go red as Hermione walked away, Cho and Ginny running up to her. There was not a doubt in his mind that they were asking her about what he had just said.
"Nothing," said Hermione irritably to them.
Harry hid himself back in the kitchen, out of view of Ginny's eyes.
The second thing Harry noticed that morning was that Hedwig had turned up. Harry happily gave her some bacon to munch on and opened her cage door, which she flew into immediately and, her eyes droopy, looked like she was going to stay there for a week.
Mrs. Weasley turned on the radio for Witching Hour with the famous singing Sorceress Celestina Warlock while everyone in the Burrow dashed this way and that, trying to find clothing.
"Better pack a small bag this time," Mr. Weasley was saying. "I reckon with two Spiked Snitches, it might last more than a day."
"I hope it doesn't," Harry called out from Ron's room.
In the living room, Mrs. Weasley was packing up small suitcases with clothing. Harry went back upstairs to Ron's room where suitcases for Harry, Hermione and Cho (who had already packed hers before she left with Harry) were sitting. Mrs. Weasley took the time to wash all of Harry's clothing overnight, insisting that he not go play without clean socks. Harry had gotten several pairs exceptionally dirty in several rough games of Quidditch at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley had to wash them with her own mix of a powerful cleaning solution to get the packed mud stains out.
Cho was carefully folded Harry's Quidditch robes and was just about to stuff them in the suitcase when Harry noticed that someone had done a bit of knitting. He swiped it out of her hands and turned, frowning at the back of it.
"All of the players last year -- and the year before -- had it on their robes. You were the only one without!" Cho said.
"That's nice," said Harry sarcastically, placing it on Cho's outstretched hands. She had knit Harry's last name in gold on the top of the back of his Quidditch cloak.
"Raides helped me," Cho admitted, smiling. Harry rolled his eyes and turned away as Cho re-folded it stuffed and it into the suitcase. All Harry cared about was making sure that he took his Order of Merlin necklace and Phoenix Bracelet, both of which he was wearing so there was no problem there.
Mrs. Weasley, unlike the last few Quidditch games, was going to this one. As much as she didn't like to have to leave the house for an entire day, for she had become quite fond of it, Raides assured her nothing was going to break. Raides had made a deal with the ghoul that haunted the attic that, if it was good, she would show Harry how to cast the ghoul away to the nearest graveyard where it could haunt the dead in peace and he did break something, she was going to show Harry how to very painfully kill it ("Clades Ultimus," she whispered in Harry's ear). The Weasleys were grateful. Not only was the ghoul annoying -- and it had been there for as long as Harry ever knew -- but it frequently dropped something when it felt the house was getting too quiet.
"Mom, what did you do!" came Ron's angry voice.
Harry slipped down the stairs as Mrs. Weasley came half-running in the opposite direction.
Mr. Weasley was peacefully listening to the radio while the rest of the Weasleys hustled and bustled. They had still managed to be running late even though Harry would be Disapparating them with the Staff of Cybele. Mr. Weasley quietly suggested it was the fault of his wife's for suggesting they eat breakfast and get up an entire two hours later than they would have had they not been Disapparating. Mrs. Weasley liked to suggest it was Mr. Weasley's fault for suggesting they wait till morning to pack their bags. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cho, Ginny, Fred and George all agreed it was both of their faults.
"We interrupt Witching Hour for a terrible, breaking news," came the radio announcer, cutting a wonderful song from Celestina short. Everyone in the Burrow came running into the living room. "The Dark Mark, infamous symbol of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was casted into the sky for the second time in sixteen years," the announcer went on gravely. "While He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been preying on Muggles since his third coming, we now bring the news that the Dark Mark had been casted over the house of the Ministry of Magic's Head of the Department of the Courts, Vindus Diogo --"
"I should feel bad," said Mr. Weasley, staring blankly at the radio, "but for him, I just can't..." He felt himself sink into the couch behind him out of sorrow, regardless of how much resentment he had for Vindus.
Harry had met someone named Vindus -- and he could only guess that it was the same Vindus as no one had mentioned his last name -- only two years ago and he firmly agreed with Mr. Weasley. Harry had been brought before Vindus for conviction of a murder which had been done without Harry having had control of his own body. He had been under the partial control of Voldemort and had casted the most deadly spell known to wizard-kind: Clades Ultimus. This accidental spell had literally exploded the body of one Colin Creevey, a then-fourth year who idolized Harry. Harry had felt exceptionally terrible for a long time afterwards and Vindus did not make the situation any better.
"Mr. Diogo had been at work at the time," said the radio announcer. "It is known that several Death Eaters had ruthlessly killed his wife and three children... Like all that was the work of the Death Eaters, this was just random... Mr. Diogo is now staying with a close relative, as the house had been destroyed --"
"Now you're starting to see why we call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and not... well, you-know-what," said Mr. Weasley firmly, still looking at the radio. He shook his head quickly for a brief moment as if to let a bad thought tumble out of it.
"Voldemort," Ron muttered under his breath. Mr. Weasley didn't hear but Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Cho did.
It would appear to Harry that Hermione and Ron had gotten over calling Voldemort He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in their six years of knowing Harry but, it seemed, that Ginny and Cho had not.
When the radio announcer had finished his report, concluding with Vindus' enourmous yearly salary and determination to put Voldemort to rest, everyone in the Burrow slowly went back to finishing up their packing.
At long last, everyone had finished packing and confirmed with Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be spearheading Operation: Pack, that they were ready.
"Raides!" called Harry. "We're ready!"
The beautiful lion came striding out of the garden, closely followed by her new friend, Crookshanks and a terrified gnome held high in the air by her golden tail.
"You called?" said Raides.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Time to Disapparate. We're good to go."
"Oh," said Raides, sounding disappointed. "Just when I was about to teach this one a lesson," she added, waving the gnome held by her tail this way and that.
"I'm leaving Hedwig's cage open, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from all the way upstairs. "So she can go in and out as she pleases!"
"She'll be fine!" Harry yelled back. "Just make sure her water tray is full!"
Everyone, all twelve of them, grabbed their suitcases and stood in the living room. Bill, Charlie and Percy goggled at Raides as she transformed back into the Staff of Cybele and Harry picked her up, the tail wagging merrily in the breeze of the open back door. Mrs. Weasley ordered her husband to close it.
"I filled it up just this morning," she then told Harry.
The crystal of the staff disappeared and the tiny lion's mouth moved to speak. "You all have to hold onto someone else. This works just like a Portkey. Harry remembers multi-person Disapparation, I'm sure," said the staff with a grin. Harry had his first encounter with what Raides called multi-person Disapparation accidently with the mark of ancients. He had quickly learned it was ancient magic, and that no one in several thousand years had ever done it.
"Do exactly as you did when you tried to Disapparate with your wand, except don't worry about getting splinched," Raides explained.As it was the easiest thing to do, the whole lot of them held hands, Cho taking the opportunity to grab onto Harry's shoulder as one of his hands was clutching the Staff of Cybele, the other, his suitcase. "Actually, I'm not sure you need to hold on to each other, just that I think it makes doing it easier."
"Everyone ready?" Harry asked.
"Yes," said Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Percy and Hermione. "It's the wood at the moor, Harry," Mr. Weasley added.
"Deliquesco!" Harry shouted.
There was a flash of blue lightning, a hoot of Hedwig, a screech of Ginny and the last thing Harry saw before leaving the Burrow was the entire staff of Cybele glowing an ominous blue.
He felt nothing like he did when he Disapparated with his wand. It was clean, like he was simply picked up from the Burrow and dropped at the woods in the moor, like he was one place and then another, with no transition in between other than a sudden change of scenery.
There were a bunch of wizards Harry didn't know goggling at him, their eyes performing the familiar flick up to the scar on his forehead. Then, if possible, their mouths opened even wider at the sight of the Staff of Cybele.
"What," growled Raides, clearly annoyed as she transformed into the great lion. She positioned herself in front of Harry, so tall that the top of her beautiful, golden head grazed Harry's chin.
The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Cho giggled at the looks of extreme distress on the wizards' faces. Still open-mouthed, the pack of wizards strode out of the wood. Harry supposed that they would have asked for an autograph, but Raides scared them away.
"This way," said Mr. Weasley, following the distressed wizards.
They knew Harry was following them but with the sight of Raides still fresh on their minds, they didn't dare turn around. Harry giggled for the entire walk across the moor -- about twenty minutes -- populated with tents of all sizes and shapes -- literally -- until they reached a wizard in tartan robes of orange and white and a ridiculous top hat sitting in a chair with a box full of black balls and a white dot next to him. Quite a few heads turned to stare at Raides and, for once, not the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Hello, Mundungus," said Mr. Weasley.
Mundungus Fletcher was a rather strange wizard with a flair for bright clothing. Harry had met him only last year and didn't expect much in the way for change. He was a colorful character to say the least.
"Ah, such a good day it is, Arthur," said Mr. Fletcher. "Ah! Harry! So nice to see you again. And who is your rather, er --"
"Raides," said Raides in her usual growl. "Commonly known as the Staff of Cybele."
Mr. Fletcher stared for quite a while, watching Raides wave her tail merrily in the air, before Mr. Weasley interrupted him impatiently with, "Can we go find our camp site now, Mundungus?"
"Oh yes, of course, of course," he said, snapping out of it and grabbing one of the black balls out of the box next to him.
"Now we have to walk all the way back," Ron muttered.
Mr. Fletcher tapped the black ball with his wand and the white dot quickly moved around the surface of the ball, pointing in a direction. Harry knew this better as a wizard's compass. The white dot pointed in the direction you were supposed to go and when you were at your location, the white dot pointed straight up.
"My goodness, it looks like we're going to end up in the same place again -- wait, no, we're on the other side this time," said Mr. Weasley.
As far as the eye could see, there were tents decorated in the colors of each country. Of course, you couldn't tell them apart because both countries used red, white and blue. What helped to distinguish was the flag raised above several of the tents but not all. After five minutes of walking, Ginny complained of being tired. Raides happily let Ginny ride on her back.
Perhaps it was the loud cheering of people yelling themselves hoarse as Harry passed by them, perhaps it was the boos from the United States' fans, but Harry couldn't stop grinning. Excitement was flooding through him, excitement only brought on by a coming Fire Quidditch game.
This was only his third but he had made quite a name for himself in just two games. The only thing he didn't like were the few posters of his hand with a lightning bolt extending out from it to the Spiked Snitch. Last year he had disabled the blades of Spiked Snitch by accidently calling a lightning bolt through his fingers and blasting them off. The tremendous surprise, as no one had commanded lightning for thousands of years, had sent the entire Quidditch field into silence until Dumbledore had started clapping. Just the year before, he had the mark of ancients and removed the blades with a simple charm. It was the episode last year that made him most famous in the Fire Quidditch world. They all joked the entire time about how badly the United States was going to lose this year.
Arriving at their place, Mr. Weasley tossed the wizard's compass at the sign reading "Weasley" and both of them Disapparated with a pop. Harry knew that they had both gone to the nearest garbage can. Mr. Weasley tapped both of the miniature tents on the ground with his wand and at once they transformed into fully grown five man tents each. Harry also knew that these weren't normal tents, but magically -- er -- enhanced. No one was truly bothered by the extraordinary inner proportions which included a bathroom, a table fit for fifteen, three bedrooms with fluffy pillows and a kitchen.
It was only noon when they arrived and when Cyrus Stone, team manager for England, a rather happy wizard choosing to dress himself in a stylish silver cloak and white robes, turned up at Harry's tent, he complained that they were late.
"All of our faults," said Hermione hastily before Mr. or Mrs. Weasley had a chance to say anything.
"Yes, well, I need to borrow -- galloping gargoyles, what is that?" he said, his eyes wide open and pointing at some space to the left and behind Harry. Everyone immediately knew that he had spotted Raides.
She stepped out from behind Harry, making herself more visible and introduced herself to Mr. Stone who didn't believe a word of it until Raides transformed herself into the staff. Harry grabbed the staff, threw a rock as hard as he could, high into the air and casted a levitation charm on a twig, smashing the two together. The end result was the twig exploding the rock into a thousand pieces, showering a place some one hundred feet down with very fine dust.
"Sh -- she'll be coming with you, then?" said Mr. Stone cautiously. Harry nodded and Raides transformed herself back into the great lion. "Take your broom, Mr. Potter."
"We have a sightly different team this year, you might guess," Mr. Stone went on as they walked back through the woods to the Quidditch field, only slightly less intimitaded with the presence of Raides. The usual boyish cheer in his tone had gone missing and Harry and Raides knew very well why. He hadn't forgotten why Raides was with him in the first place and given the sheer volume of heads turning to do double and triple takes, he felt considerably safer. "We're keeping Wood. Great Keeper. He's been playing on a reserve team all year, practicing his butt off for this game. Miss Johnson, Miss Spinnet and Miss Bell are also still with us but obviously we have two new beaters, Madelyn Melfina and and Gregory Jungalavingi. Both top notch, excellent! Wouldn't have picked them unless they were."
Mr. Stone went on for the entire twenty-five minute walk about various things including strategies and that everyone was now riding a Dragonback which didn't surprise Harry. He also said that their player backlist (affectionately known as the Injured Players' Replacement List) was full and that negotiations have been made with Paladin Hayden's International Magical Hospital for any impending injuries. He told Harry that they had a reserve Seeker on the list, one Callum McClay, that Harry hoped they wouldn't have to use. Halfway to the Quidditch field, Mr. Stone was back to having that old bounce in his step. Raides walked behind them for the rest of the way.
When they did finally arrive at the enourmous Fire Quidditch field -- and Harry could never recall it rising so high in the air -- the golden glow from the stands themselves gleamed his eye through his glasses. Last year it seated five hundred thousand witches and wizards and this year was not likely to be any different.
"The Quidditch World Cup stadium took five hundred to build," Mr. Stone said, noting the awestruck look on Harry's face.
"I know," Harry told him. "Mr. Weasley told me. How many for this one?"
"I believe it took two thousand. They had a hell of a time finding wizards to work on it!"
As they approached the eleven gold and scarlet blurs in the sky, the team, including the five people on the backlist, were already at the Quidditch field. Just as last year, they weren't allowed to practice with the Fire Quidditch Bludgers, Quaffle and Snitch. They did, however, throw up four Bludgers and two Golden Snitches.
When Harry joined them, it was pandemonium. Up in the air on his Dragonback, Harry had a hard time dodging Bludger after Bludger. Now that there were four of them up in the air, they seemed much more capable of knocking him off his broom. About fifteen minutes into practice, Raides made her voice heard, calling Harry back down. They had both completely forgotten that Harry was to ride her like his broom instead of his Dragonback.
Switching from broom to staff, Harry soared back into the air, not feeling much of a difference except that he could turn much, much sharper. This gave him a much easier time dodging Blugers and after two hours of near misses with Bludgers to various parts of his body including a close call with his nose, the Golden Snitch beat it wings helplessly against Harry's fingers.
"Wow, Harry," Oliver Wood, their Keeper, yelled from across the field astonished. Oliver had been a Keeper at Hogwarts for three years and a most enthusiastic captain for Gryffindor's Quidditch team, Harry thought. "Usually you get it much faster than that."
"I know," said Harry, "but these stupid Bludgers are making it harder."
"Just watch your back in the game because --"
"I know, I know," Harry groaned. "All four of them will be tailing me when I'm chasing the Snitch. I've been practicing this time, though."
And then Harry remembered something that he had cleanly forgotten about: he didn't practice a way of disabling the fiery Bludgers. This was no comfort but he told Oliver regardless that he had a way to take the blades off the Spiked Snitch. Maybe he could just try to avoid them as best as possible? But there were four of them...
"Excellent weather they're saying for tomorrow," Mr. Stone was saying fervently. It would appear that since he had been talking himself silly, he had talked Raides clean out of his head. "A breezy day in August tomorrow. Couldn't ask for more!"
Harry was extremely glad to see that Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson had been as excellent Chasers as they had ever been. They took the time to tell Harry that after having graduated from Hogwarts, they played in a regional team all together, replacing the three Chasers already on that team. Mr. Stone had spotted them during his travels around England and immediately asked them to try out for England's Fire Quidditch team. They happily accepted, fully confident that with Harry as the Seeker, they weren't going to lose.
Mr. Stone joined them in the air, commentating on what they were doing. He repeatedly kept cheering as goal after goal, Oliver had a hard time blocking Quaffles soaring past him into the fifty foot high golden hoops. Harry had expressed his concern that Oliver was just losing his touch. It was then that Oliver insisted Harry take the Quaffle.
After fifteen minutes, Oliver had caught every last throw Harry made. He was satisfied -- Angelina, Katie and Alicia were just that good. They took a half hour break for lunch and went back into the air. The practice wasn't stressing, it was just so they could coordinate themselves with one another.
Sirius arrived with Ron and Hermione at his side with an hour of practice to go. Harry and Sirius took a good five minutes to say hello and when Ron kept staring longingly at Harry's Dragonback, Madelyn let Ron take her spot. She said it was because she was tired. Harry knew better. Sirius showed Harry the Daily Prophet from last summer in which there was a picture of Harry and Ron that someone had sneakily taken. Getting the Staff of Cybele was no easy feat and involved getting the front end of a Clades Ultimus, which the staff handily prevented from killing Harry and Ron. Ron had shared the spotlight with Harry for quite a few good months and it would appear he still was.
Flying around on Harry's Dragonback, Ron tried to show off a few moves he had been practicing since before Harry arrived at the Burrow. This included knocking Bludgers into one another (which he only managed to do once). By accident, he managed to whack one Bludger with his club into another Bludger, which careened into a third Bludger which sent that one flying off into the direction of the fourth Bludger which by some miracle hit the Quaffle that Katie had mis-passed to Alicia and sent it through one of the golden hoops. For a full ten minutes, Ron didn't stop staring at his club like it had been bewitched and it nearly costed him an unfractured arm.
Mr. Stone insisted that Madelyn take her position back in the air. She and Gregory tried for dear life to try and knock Bludgers into other Bludgers or into the Quaffle but simply couldn't; it was just a skill of Ron and the other Gryffindor team Beater, Kylie Randal. Kylie had a thing for Ron. She always giggled around him and Ron thought she treated Harry like a kid. To Ron's pleasure, Kylie graduated Hogwarts last year.
It was practically sundown when Mr. Stone let them go. Sirius immediately walked over to Harry as he landed with a soft thump on the hard ground. He took one look at Raides as she transformed into the great, seven foot lion, opened his mouth to say something, made a squeaking noise and then closed it.
"I get a lot of that," Raides told him. Sirius looked taken aback that she could talk.
"You'll get used to it after a while," said Harry, grinning. "That's the Staff of Cybele. Her name is Raides. She can transform into a lion but the only thing is that, well, she can't use magic unless she's the staff."
While they were walking back towards the tent, Sirius sloppily cleared his throat and managed to say, "Many people at the camp site are saying they think someone's gonna get hurt what with more Bludgers now."
"I know how I'm going to get rid of the blades on the Snitch but I -- er -- didn't find a way to get rid of the Bludgers..." said Harry quietly so only Sirius, Ron and Hermione could hear.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Sirius assured Harry, patting him genially on the shoulder.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry replied nervously.
"You could always try what you did two years ago, you know," said Raides, which startled Sirius. Harry shot her a quizzical look and she raised her golden-furred eyebrows in a superior fasion. "Remember how you shot a shard of ice at them?"
"But I had the mark of ancients... I tried that last year and it wasn't strong enough... ?" Harry said, confused.
Raides grinned gleefully at the trees just ahead of her and then turned to look at Harry for a bit, still grinning. She was apparently proud of herself for something.
"You're starting to sound like Albus Dumbledore," Harry told her. She laughed, her voice echoing loudly throughout the woods.
Raides didn't speak a word when Harry asked her what she meant but he had this strange feeling that, as always, what he needed to do would come to him at the last minute. He tended to trust his instincts more and more lately.
Back at the tent, Mrs. Weasley told Harry that Cho's parents had come to pick her up to stay at their tent. Slightly downtrodden that Cho wouldn't be able to see him just before he left tomorrow morning, Mrs. Weasley pointed out that the Changs' tent was no more than fifteen feet away from their own. Harry looked in the direction Mrs. Weasley pointed in and saw a rather mean-looking wizard glaring at him before disappearing inside the tent decorated with lightning bolts.
A witch no older than thirteen had come running up to Harry with a quill and one of those miniature models Fred and George had made. She asked him to sign it but Harry laughed as Ginny shot her a very contemptuous look and she scampered away. Ginny's mother was about to scorn her but she seemed to think better of it when she saw even Percy painfully trying to hide a snigger as well (everyone seemed to think it was funny).
"Told you, Harry," Fred sneered. "Like hotcakes."
Harry scowled.
After arriving at the Burrow, which took an extremely long time because they had to come using normal roads, they ate dinner. Hermione was there as well. Harry spent the next few hours practicing on bending a fork without a wand, even if all he could do was make the tip move a tiny bit.
Mr. Weasley was speechless Harry managed to do anything without a wand and was even more at a loss for words when he was finally able to a prongs bend in half just before they had to go to bed. Harry decided, with Raides' approval ("MY GOD, THE THING TRANSFORMS?" Mr. Weasley bellowed when he first saw Raides become a lion), to just use his wand since he wouldn't get enough practice without it. Him, Ron, Raides and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting in the kitchen, Harry holding a fork before him.
"I'm going to lose my wand," he assured them. "I just know it."
"Don't be so cynical, dear," Mrs. Weasley said comfortingly.
"I don't go looking for disasters," he replied. "They go looking for me."
Raides glared at him, pointing her scarlet tail at him threateningly. She shared Mrs. Weasley's point of view.
"Ah, what am I making a big deal out of it for," she said finally, dropping her tail and resting her head on her paws. "But I still want you to try to do magic without a wand at school whenever you can."
Harry put the fork back in the drawer and nodded at Raides.
"Now get some sleep, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, standing up. She cleaned all the dinner plates with a wave of her own wand and magicked them all back into the cabinets. "We have to get up at the crack of dawn to be there for pre-game talks and practice."
Harry, fully satisfied he would be able to catch Spiked Snitch without some extravagant episode, along with "good lucks" from Ron's two older brothers, Bill and Charlie, had a good night's sleep. Ron's third oldest brother, Percy, who worked for the Ministry of Magic, had kept himself boarded up in his room ("I'm working but yes, I'll come. Just leave me alone!"). Harry didn't think much of it; Percy had always been a hard worker, if a little hard to talk to.
"How are we getting there?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley the next morning over breakfast.
"Well, Bill, Percy and Charlie are all Disapparating but as -- you three," he added, noting Ginny's late arrival, "haven't -- er -- passed your test, this year they set up a fire and connected it to the Floo Network. We'll be using that."
Harry thought longingly of the day he could Disapparate.
"When do we learn how, anyway?" Ron asked Mr. Weasley.
"They take seventh years down to Hogsmeade during Charms a few times to practice. I daresay, some students don't do so well on the first try," Mr. Weasley said grimly.
Just then, Raides came trodding down the stairs, looking for her morning breakfast, which included everything from spiders to troll heart soup.
"Over there next to the sink," Mrs. Weasley told her. Then Mrs. Weasley sat frozen in her seat while the seven foot lion propped her front paws on the counter, clamped her powerful jaws around the bowl of troll heart soup and set it carefully down on the floor, not spilling a drop.
Sipping it as peacefully as a cat drinking milk, she paused for a moment, yawned, and said, "If you want, I could Disapparate all of you to wherever you have to go."
Ron looked at his mother with a sparkle in his eye. "Can we, mom?"
Harry kept eating his toast and felt Mrs. Weasley's eyes on him.
"All of us?" she said, her voice rising to a squeak as she spoke.
Raides took one more sip of her soup, paused for a second and then said, without the slightest change on her beautiful, golden face, "Honey, if you think the mark of ancients was powerful, you ain't seen nothin' yet," and went back to eating.
Ron looked at Harry eagerly.
Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron and said, "Only if Harry doesn't mind." She didn't pay much attention to how eager Ron was to Disapparate. Harry then looked at Ron.
"I don't mind," he said, grinning.
"Okay, but that only gives us another hour or so," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. And then, to everyone's relief she smiled. "No, Arthur, we don't have to get up when it's still dark out now."
Mr. Weasley turned slightly red and excused himself from the table.
"Come on, Harry," said Hermione pointedly and standing up. "You will wanna see what Fred and George are working on." Ron was pointing his head at a hallway, evidently trying to give Harry a hint he didn't understand.
Just then, a voice in Harry's head came. "Ron's got a point. Better go upstairs."
Listening to Raides' advice, Harry followed Ron and Hermione through the hallway and up the zig-zagging, rickety stairs, leading to the Burrow's many upper floors. From the outside, the house looked so oddly shaped that the only way it could ever stand without falling was because, Harry suspected, it was held by up magic.
"Dad's been getting up early so often now because of Voldemort," Ron told Harry. "Been giving him a hard time because he has to stay for so long these days..."
They approached Percy's room. Percy, upon hearing them coming up, snapped the door shut with a wave of his wand.
"They're giving Percy a run for his money, too," Ron said as they approached his room. "I'd like to see Voldemort come after you with that staff! Ha!"
The sound of breaking china and repeated yelling echoed up the stairs from downstairs.
"Mom's not getting on too well," Ron explained. "Dad's barely home. Having a grand old time covering up all of the stuff with Voldemort. He also said they wouldn't even let you play Fire Quidditch if we didn't find Raides."
"That's okay," Harry told Ron. "I wouldn't want to."
Ron's room was a shocking orange color. It was covered with posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, all of them moving and showing the players at their best. One poster that startled Harry was of the Seeker: she jumped off her broom to catch the Golden Snitch.
"Oh!" shrieked Hermione suddenly, making Ron and Harry jump. "I forgot all about it. Ron, tell him what you heard!"
They sat themselves separately on one of each of the five beds placed in the room. It was rather cramped.
"What?" Harry asked curiously.
"The Tri-wizard Tournament! Ron overheard his dad talking about it to his mom!"
"Didn't they have enough trouble with that last time?" Harry groaned flatly, a dull look in his eye. Ron's eyes, however, were twinkling. "Oh, no," said Harry, cottoning on. "No way..."
"See, Ron," said Hermione who was glaring at the side of Ron's head. "I told you he wouldn't want to, didn't I?"
Ron turned to look at her, his smile slowly ebbing away. "Wasn't there a bit of a fight the last time you said 'I told you so?'" he retorted.
Harry successfully stifled himself from laughing as Hermione tutted.
"I'm leaving. Where's Cho and Ginny?" said Hermione, not noticing Harry's great internal struggle.
"I don't know," said Ron hotly. "I don't have the mind of a girl."
Hermione stood up, did an about face and marched out of the room.
"I'm glad you finally came," said Ron. Harry could hear the loud slamming of a door that could only be Ginny's. "She's UNBEARABLE. Fleur stopped talking to me and Hermione said she knew it would happen. But then I laughed when Viktor stopped talking to her and she's been upset at me ever since. So how are you and Cho doing?" he added, forcing his face to a smile.
Viktor Krum was a world-famous Quidditch player for Bulgaria. Only eighteen when Harry first saw him play, Krum was easily the best player Harry had ever seen and was something of an idol to Harry's friend, Ron. Krum played Seeker, the same position Harry played for Gryffindor.
"Oh, great," Harry said, avoiding Ron's eyes and turning slightly red. "And I haven't blown my aunt up yet, either."
Ron chuckled. "So how about that Fire Quidditch match tomorrow, eh?" Harry watched as Ron's eyes turned from a sullenness to happiness.
For the rest of the day, each time Ron and Hermione ended up in the same room, a few words were exchanged and Hermione would stomp out, waiting for Ron to do so first. Only a few years ago had they gotten into such a big arguement. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, had been framed as having eaten Scabbers, Ron's old rat that wasn't really a rat, but Wormtail, disguised for many years. Wormtail faked his own death (again) by biting himself and leaving the blood on Ron's bedsheets. Ron immediately pointed the blame on Crookshanks. It wasn't until Hermione found Scabbers hidden in Hagrid's cabin, which rested on the front grounds of Hogwarts near the forbidden forest, that their friendship was repaired.
Ron and Hermione separately coached Harry, with Raides overseeing Harry's progress, on bending the prongs of a fork. Harry eventually gave up.
"Look, forget it," he said dismissively. "I can't get any farther than making one prong bend in half. It's just not happening."
Harry was looking straight at Hermione. He could see something very odd: her lips were becoming thinner and she raised her hand. Hermione then did something Harry never thought she was capable of: she slapped him. Immediately after, however, she looked positively mortified as Harry rubbed the red spot her hand had left on his cheek.
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she apologized, covering her mouth with a hand. "It's just... well... I mean, Ron and his -- I just want to see you do it..."
"It's okay," said Harry, "really. Cheer up, Hermione. You two'll be friends again in no time," he added, not believing a word of it.
Hermione was slightly warmer to Ron after this but Ron kept his "never talk to me again" stance.
Harry spent the rest of the day going between Ginny's room with Cho and Hermione and Ron's room where, after lunch, Fred and George stopped by and annoyed Ron by Apparating in.
"They've never stopped ever since they passed their test," Ron whispered to Harry longingly as Fred and George went to their room to get something.
"You ever ask them to show you how to do it?" Harry asked.
"My mom won't let them show me," said Ron, a dull look in his eye. "She said Fred splinched himself once and doesn't want me to do that."
The first time Harry heard the word splinched, he had absolutely no idea how horrible splinching oneself could be. He since learned that it meant to leave part of your body behind while attempting to Disapparate.
"George was going on about it for weeks, he just couldn't stop laughing. Fred said nothing ever hurt so bad and didn't Disapparate for two weeks." Feeling thoroughly jealous of Fred and George, Ron picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans sitting on his desk and began to eat them.
Fred and George came in just as Ron sat down again carrying something that Harry immediately frowned at.
"They're selling like hotcakes, Harry," Fred said. He held out his hand and sitting in it was a miniaturized version of Harry wearing his Hogwarts robes clutching an even smaller Staff of Cybele. "They don't do anything, they just sit there."
"I made one just to see if I could do it," George explained. "Fred said stick it in the front window. All of a sudden we get hundreds of requests." He grinned. "Can't deny the public what they want, Harry," he added, noting the redness in Harry's face.
"Just don't expect to sell me one," Harry said.
"We're trying to make an edible version," George went on, still grinning, "that puts a scar on your forehead temporarily but the best we can do is make your forehead hurt a little -- shame, really."
Harry wasn't listening to a word of it.
"Can you -- er -- show me how to Disapparate?" he asked George cautiously. "Your mom won't let you show Ron but what's stopping you from showing me?" said Harry, smiling innocently.
"But you already know how, don't you?" George asked. Harry looked at him funny-like. "The mark of ancients. Didn't you -- ?"
"With the mark, I could just think of doing magic and it would happen," Harry said. "I didn't have to do much of anything..."
"Oh, so in that case, well, Professor Flitwick always said concentrate hard on where you want to end up and picture yourself there. You better close your eyes and get a good picture because you don't want to end up splinching yourself, right Fred?" George said cheerily.
Fred shot George a quick, fake smile.
"Honestly, Ron, don't try it until Professor Flitwick starts doing it. Just ask Fred how much getting splinched hurts! Harry's got a better shot at it than you do."
Harry turned slightly redder.
"Just try doing it across the room, Harry," said Fred. "Put your arms at your sides and point your wand down."
Harry brought back the memory of the time he Disapparated with the mark of ancients to Azkaban. Sirius had been recaptured after he had escaped Azkaban once and was sent back before anyone except Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore knew he was innocent. Harry had attempted to free him, which worked -- for the most part...
He closed his eyes and pictured himself three feet ahead of where he was standing.
"Do I have to say anything?" he asked, eyes still closed.
"It's one of the more complicated Charms, actually," Fred said. "But most people end up able to do it without words. Wave your wand and say 'Deliquesco.' Just make sure you're concentrating hard because getting splinched hurts..."
Harry took a deep breath, waited a few moments and shouted "Deliquesco!" waiting any moment for a lot of pain. For a split second, he suddenly felt like he was traveling at the speed of light, feeling very cold. He heard the familiar popping noise which stopped the speeding sensation as suddenly as it started.
"ON YOUR FIRST TRY?" Ron thundered.
Harry opened his eyes. He was exactly three feet in front of where he just was a second ago.
Fred and George grinned at him. Ron frowned.
"Now try it without your wand?" Fred suggested.
Harry walked to the corner of the room and closed his eyes again, this time picturing himself standing at the door. He stood there for a good minute, wishing himself to Disapparate, but nothing happened...
"Well, I would have given you a free month's supply of Harry Potter models if you did it without a wand on the first try, too," said George.
Harry clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. It worked! For a split second he felt the intense sensation of speed... but something wasn't exactly right. During the entire split second, another intense feeling was growing, one of horrible pain around his mid section.
Harry had Disapparated but only his top half had moved. His body was sliced diagonally down the middle, thankfully not exposing his insides, just a slab of skin stretched across the separation. His upper body fell to the ground at the door and his legs and lower body were standing weirdly without the rest of itself. Ron was about to lose his lunch.
Harry let out one long, continous scream that easily filled the house as Ron clamped his hands to his ears.
"George, quick, get Raides," said Fred, a grave expression on his face.
George bolted out of the room as Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed up the house. "What are you doing up there!"
Still howling, now Hermione, Cho and Ginny having entered the room, Harry clawed his way towards his lower body. Raides entered not a moment to soon when Harry was about to pass out from the stabbing pain.
"Harry, what the hell?" said Raides as if nothing was wrong. "You can fix that yourself --"
"I DON'T CARE AT THE MOMENT! I'M HURTING A LOT, IF YOU DON'T MIND!" he roared.
"Someone stick me in his hand," said Raides, having transformed back into the grandeur Staff of Cybele. Ron did so. "Repeat after me, Harry... Adiungo haec --"
"ADIUNGO HAEC --"
"Corpus semel denuo."
"CORPUS SEMEL DENUO!"
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had just entered the room as a golden glitter escaped the crystal ball of the staff and surrounded Harry's separated body. His lower body fell down and the golden glitter turned into a white glow. Harry felt himself being dragged along the floor (his eyes were closed and they were tearing madly). When he had been cleanly reattached, the pain stopped and the white glow disappeared back into the crystal ball.
Raides transformed back into the great, golden and scarlet lion.
Mr. Weasley stuck his hand out for Harry to grab onto and Harry pulled, standing himself up. Mrs. Weasley looked from one guilty face to the next and Harry thought her lips were so thin that they were going to disappear. He wished he hadn't bothered to ask how to Disapparate as he rubbed the tears of great pain out of his eyes.
"I'm not going to ask," she said loudly and sharply. "You just be glad Raides is here." Mrs. Weasley was struggling to find more incriminating things to say but her mouth was moving without any sound -- it was rather like watching a silent movie. "Get ready for dinner," she said at last. "And now you know, good at it or not, getting splinched hurts," she added matter-of-factly, turning on her heel and leaving Ron's room.
Harry rubbed the area where, just a minute ago, his body had been split in two. It still stung a little. Harry, Ron, Fred and George all exchanged glances and nodded in agreement: that was dumb. Hermione looked like she was about to say "I told you so," but kept silent at the look on Ron's face (but he was still clearly horrified at seeing someone get splinched).
By the time dinner was ready, even if she still had words to say, Mrs. Weasley kept them to herself so they could have a nice, peaceful dinner. She kindly asked Harry to use the Staff of Cybele to conjure one long table into the garden as she knew the nine weasleys plus Harry, Cho and Hermione would not fit in the kithen. One white glow of the crystal conjured a long, wooden table out of thin air. A second glow, this time a grayish, made an equally large table cloth shoot out of the crystal tip and cover the table neatly. Then a third and fourth glow of the crystal had conjured chairs, napkins, plates, knives and forks.
After finishing, Raides joined Hermione's cat Crookshanks in chasing gnomes around the garden. No bigger than a tomato but certainly hard for a small cat to catch, they were considerably more scared of Raides than the comparably tiny, ginger cat with a squashed face that was Crookshanks. Part of the reason, everyone joked, was that Raides was seven feet long with teeth to match... Out of boredness, Raides picked Crookshanks up by wrapping her long, powerful, scarlet tail around Crookshank's mid-section. She dropped him right on top of a gnome and, getting help or not, Crookshanks was happy: he sank his teeth into the gnome's finger and it scampered away. To Harry, Raides was rather like the pet dog or cat that he never had. Sure, he had Hedwig, but she couldn't talk. On second thought, Harry realized, Raides was a wizard's pet and not a Muggle's. He would still be just as warm to Hedwig when he saw her again; they had been too good of friends for too long to stop now. He wished Hedwig didn't have to stay at the Burrow while Aunt Marge was infesting Privet Drive...
The very first thing that Harry noticed the next morning was that Ginny was actually talking to Cho and not making strange faces at her. That either meant that Cho had told Ginny that she no longer liked Harry or some kind of ancient magical miracle had been performed while he had been asleep. To find out for sure, Harry cornered Hermione as she left the table and asked her which one was it.
"Neither," Hermione whispered to him. "Cho and Ginny are just starting get along, that's all, but all they've been talking about is you and -- no offense -- it's been driving me absolutely bonkers."
Harry felt himself go red as Hermione walked away, Cho and Ginny running up to her. There was not a doubt in his mind that they were asking her about what he had just said.
"Nothing," said Hermione irritably to them.
Harry hid himself back in the kitchen, out of view of Ginny's eyes.
The second thing Harry noticed that morning was that Hedwig had turned up. Harry happily gave her some bacon to munch on and opened her cage door, which she flew into immediately and, her eyes droopy, looked like she was going to stay there for a week.
Mrs. Weasley turned on the radio for Witching Hour with the famous singing Sorceress Celestina Warlock while everyone in the Burrow dashed this way and that, trying to find clothing.
"Better pack a small bag this time," Mr. Weasley was saying. "I reckon with two Spiked Snitches, it might last more than a day."
"I hope it doesn't," Harry called out from Ron's room.
In the living room, Mrs. Weasley was packing up small suitcases with clothing. Harry went back upstairs to Ron's room where suitcases for Harry, Hermione and Cho (who had already packed hers before she left with Harry) were sitting. Mrs. Weasley took the time to wash all of Harry's clothing overnight, insisting that he not go play without clean socks. Harry had gotten several pairs exceptionally dirty in several rough games of Quidditch at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley had to wash them with her own mix of a powerful cleaning solution to get the packed mud stains out.
Cho was carefully folded Harry's Quidditch robes and was just about to stuff them in the suitcase when Harry noticed that someone had done a bit of knitting. He swiped it out of her hands and turned, frowning at the back of it.
"All of the players last year -- and the year before -- had it on their robes. You were the only one without!" Cho said.
"That's nice," said Harry sarcastically, placing it on Cho's outstretched hands. She had knit Harry's last name in gold on the top of the back of his Quidditch cloak.
"Raides helped me," Cho admitted, smiling. Harry rolled his eyes and turned away as Cho re-folded it stuffed and it into the suitcase. All Harry cared about was making sure that he took his Order of Merlin necklace and Phoenix Bracelet, both of which he was wearing so there was no problem there.
Mrs. Weasley, unlike the last few Quidditch games, was going to this one. As much as she didn't like to have to leave the house for an entire day, for she had become quite fond of it, Raides assured her nothing was going to break. Raides had made a deal with the ghoul that haunted the attic that, if it was good, she would show Harry how to cast the ghoul away to the nearest graveyard where it could haunt the dead in peace and he did break something, she was going to show Harry how to very painfully kill it ("Clades Ultimus," she whispered in Harry's ear). The Weasleys were grateful. Not only was the ghoul annoying -- and it had been there for as long as Harry ever knew -- but it frequently dropped something when it felt the house was getting too quiet.
"Mom, what did you do!" came Ron's angry voice.
Harry slipped down the stairs as Mrs. Weasley came half-running in the opposite direction.
Mr. Weasley was peacefully listening to the radio while the rest of the Weasleys hustled and bustled. They had still managed to be running late even though Harry would be Disapparating them with the Staff of Cybele. Mr. Weasley quietly suggested it was the fault of his wife's for suggesting they eat breakfast and get up an entire two hours later than they would have had they not been Disapparating. Mrs. Weasley liked to suggest it was Mr. Weasley's fault for suggesting they wait till morning to pack their bags. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cho, Ginny, Fred and George all agreed it was both of their faults.
"We interrupt Witching Hour for a terrible, breaking news," came the radio announcer, cutting a wonderful song from Celestina short. Everyone in the Burrow came running into the living room. "The Dark Mark, infamous symbol of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was casted into the sky for the second time in sixteen years," the announcer went on gravely. "While He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been preying on Muggles since his third coming, we now bring the news that the Dark Mark had been casted over the house of the Ministry of Magic's Head of the Department of the Courts, Vindus Diogo --"
"I should feel bad," said Mr. Weasley, staring blankly at the radio, "but for him, I just can't..." He felt himself sink into the couch behind him out of sorrow, regardless of how much resentment he had for Vindus.
Harry had met someone named Vindus -- and he could only guess that it was the same Vindus as no one had mentioned his last name -- only two years ago and he firmly agreed with Mr. Weasley. Harry had been brought before Vindus for conviction of a murder which had been done without Harry having had control of his own body. He had been under the partial control of Voldemort and had casted the most deadly spell known to wizard-kind: Clades Ultimus. This accidental spell had literally exploded the body of one Colin Creevey, a then-fourth year who idolized Harry. Harry had felt exceptionally terrible for a long time afterwards and Vindus did not make the situation any better.
"Mr. Diogo had been at work at the time," said the radio announcer. "It is known that several Death Eaters had ruthlessly killed his wife and three children... Like all that was the work of the Death Eaters, this was just random... Mr. Diogo is now staying with a close relative, as the house had been destroyed --"
"Now you're starting to see why we call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and not... well, you-know-what," said Mr. Weasley firmly, still looking at the radio. He shook his head quickly for a brief moment as if to let a bad thought tumble out of it.
"Voldemort," Ron muttered under his breath. Mr. Weasley didn't hear but Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Cho did.
It would appear to Harry that Hermione and Ron had gotten over calling Voldemort He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in their six years of knowing Harry but, it seemed, that Ginny and Cho had not.
When the radio announcer had finished his report, concluding with Vindus' enourmous yearly salary and determination to put Voldemort to rest, everyone in the Burrow slowly went back to finishing up their packing.
At long last, everyone had finished packing and confirmed with Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to be spearheading Operation: Pack, that they were ready.
"Raides!" called Harry. "We're ready!"
The beautiful lion came striding out of the garden, closely followed by her new friend, Crookshanks and a terrified gnome held high in the air by her golden tail.
"You called?" said Raides.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Time to Disapparate. We're good to go."
"Oh," said Raides, sounding disappointed. "Just when I was about to teach this one a lesson," she added, waving the gnome held by her tail this way and that.
"I'm leaving Hedwig's cage open, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from all the way upstairs. "So she can go in and out as she pleases!"
"She'll be fine!" Harry yelled back. "Just make sure her water tray is full!"
Everyone, all twelve of them, grabbed their suitcases and stood in the living room. Bill, Charlie and Percy goggled at Raides as she transformed back into the Staff of Cybele and Harry picked her up, the tail wagging merrily in the breeze of the open back door. Mrs. Weasley ordered her husband to close it.
"I filled it up just this morning," she then told Harry.
The crystal of the staff disappeared and the tiny lion's mouth moved to speak. "You all have to hold onto someone else. This works just like a Portkey. Harry remembers multi-person Disapparation, I'm sure," said the staff with a grin. Harry had his first encounter with what Raides called multi-person Disapparation accidently with the mark of ancients. He had quickly learned it was ancient magic, and that no one in several thousand years had ever done it.
"Do exactly as you did when you tried to Disapparate with your wand, except don't worry about getting splinched," Raides explained.As it was the easiest thing to do, the whole lot of them held hands, Cho taking the opportunity to grab onto Harry's shoulder as one of his hands was clutching the Staff of Cybele, the other, his suitcase. "Actually, I'm not sure you need to hold on to each other, just that I think it makes doing it easier."
"Everyone ready?" Harry asked.
"Yes," said Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Percy and Hermione. "It's the wood at the moor, Harry," Mr. Weasley added.
"Deliquesco!" Harry shouted.
There was a flash of blue lightning, a hoot of Hedwig, a screech of Ginny and the last thing Harry saw before leaving the Burrow was the entire staff of Cybele glowing an ominous blue.
He felt nothing like he did when he Disapparated with his wand. It was clean, like he was simply picked up from the Burrow and dropped at the woods in the moor, like he was one place and then another, with no transition in between other than a sudden change of scenery.
There were a bunch of wizards Harry didn't know goggling at him, their eyes performing the familiar flick up to the scar on his forehead. Then, if possible, their mouths opened even wider at the sight of the Staff of Cybele.
"What," growled Raides, clearly annoyed as she transformed into the great lion. She positioned herself in front of Harry, so tall that the top of her beautiful, golden head grazed Harry's chin.
The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Cho giggled at the looks of extreme distress on the wizards' faces. Still open-mouthed, the pack of wizards strode out of the wood. Harry supposed that they would have asked for an autograph, but Raides scared them away.
"This way," said Mr. Weasley, following the distressed wizards.
They knew Harry was following them but with the sight of Raides still fresh on their minds, they didn't dare turn around. Harry giggled for the entire walk across the moor -- about twenty minutes -- populated with tents of all sizes and shapes -- literally -- until they reached a wizard in tartan robes of orange and white and a ridiculous top hat sitting in a chair with a box full of black balls and a white dot next to him. Quite a few heads turned to stare at Raides and, for once, not the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Hello, Mundungus," said Mr. Weasley.
Mundungus Fletcher was a rather strange wizard with a flair for bright clothing. Harry had met him only last year and didn't expect much in the way for change. He was a colorful character to say the least.
"Ah, such a good day it is, Arthur," said Mr. Fletcher. "Ah! Harry! So nice to see you again. And who is your rather, er --"
"Raides," said Raides in her usual growl. "Commonly known as the Staff of Cybele."
Mr. Fletcher stared for quite a while, watching Raides wave her tail merrily in the air, before Mr. Weasley interrupted him impatiently with, "Can we go find our camp site now, Mundungus?"
"Oh yes, of course, of course," he said, snapping out of it and grabbing one of the black balls out of the box next to him.
"Now we have to walk all the way back," Ron muttered.
Mr. Fletcher tapped the black ball with his wand and the white dot quickly moved around the surface of the ball, pointing in a direction. Harry knew this better as a wizard's compass. The white dot pointed in the direction you were supposed to go and when you were at your location, the white dot pointed straight up.
"My goodness, it looks like we're going to end up in the same place again -- wait, no, we're on the other side this time," said Mr. Weasley.
As far as the eye could see, there were tents decorated in the colors of each country. Of course, you couldn't tell them apart because both countries used red, white and blue. What helped to distinguish was the flag raised above several of the tents but not all. After five minutes of walking, Ginny complained of being tired. Raides happily let Ginny ride on her back.
Perhaps it was the loud cheering of people yelling themselves hoarse as Harry passed by them, perhaps it was the boos from the United States' fans, but Harry couldn't stop grinning. Excitement was flooding through him, excitement only brought on by a coming Fire Quidditch game.
This was only his third but he had made quite a name for himself in just two games. The only thing he didn't like were the few posters of his hand with a lightning bolt extending out from it to the Spiked Snitch. Last year he had disabled the blades of Spiked Snitch by accidently calling a lightning bolt through his fingers and blasting them off. The tremendous surprise, as no one had commanded lightning for thousands of years, had sent the entire Quidditch field into silence until Dumbledore had started clapping. Just the year before, he had the mark of ancients and removed the blades with a simple charm. It was the episode last year that made him most famous in the Fire Quidditch world. They all joked the entire time about how badly the United States was going to lose this year.
Arriving at their place, Mr. Weasley tossed the wizard's compass at the sign reading "Weasley" and both of them Disapparated with a pop. Harry knew that they had both gone to the nearest garbage can. Mr. Weasley tapped both of the miniature tents on the ground with his wand and at once they transformed into fully grown five man tents each. Harry also knew that these weren't normal tents, but magically -- er -- enhanced. No one was truly bothered by the extraordinary inner proportions which included a bathroom, a table fit for fifteen, three bedrooms with fluffy pillows and a kitchen.
It was only noon when they arrived and when Cyrus Stone, team manager for England, a rather happy wizard choosing to dress himself in a stylish silver cloak and white robes, turned up at Harry's tent, he complained that they were late.
"All of our faults," said Hermione hastily before Mr. or Mrs. Weasley had a chance to say anything.
"Yes, well, I need to borrow -- galloping gargoyles, what is that?" he said, his eyes wide open and pointing at some space to the left and behind Harry. Everyone immediately knew that he had spotted Raides.
She stepped out from behind Harry, making herself more visible and introduced herself to Mr. Stone who didn't believe a word of it until Raides transformed herself into the staff. Harry grabbed the staff, threw a rock as hard as he could, high into the air and casted a levitation charm on a twig, smashing the two together. The end result was the twig exploding the rock into a thousand pieces, showering a place some one hundred feet down with very fine dust.
"Sh -- she'll be coming with you, then?" said Mr. Stone cautiously. Harry nodded and Raides transformed herself back into the great lion. "Take your broom, Mr. Potter."
"We have a sightly different team this year, you might guess," Mr. Stone went on as they walked back through the woods to the Quidditch field, only slightly less intimitaded with the presence of Raides. The usual boyish cheer in his tone had gone missing and Harry and Raides knew very well why. He hadn't forgotten why Raides was with him in the first place and given the sheer volume of heads turning to do double and triple takes, he felt considerably safer. "We're keeping Wood. Great Keeper. He's been playing on a reserve team all year, practicing his butt off for this game. Miss Johnson, Miss Spinnet and Miss Bell are also still with us but obviously we have two new beaters, Madelyn Melfina and and Gregory Jungalavingi. Both top notch, excellent! Wouldn't have picked them unless they were."
Mr. Stone went on for the entire twenty-five minute walk about various things including strategies and that everyone was now riding a Dragonback which didn't surprise Harry. He also said that their player backlist (affectionately known as the Injured Players' Replacement List) was full and that negotiations have been made with Paladin Hayden's International Magical Hospital for any impending injuries. He told Harry that they had a reserve Seeker on the list, one Callum McClay, that Harry hoped they wouldn't have to use. Halfway to the Quidditch field, Mr. Stone was back to having that old bounce in his step. Raides walked behind them for the rest of the way.
When they did finally arrive at the enourmous Fire Quidditch field -- and Harry could never recall it rising so high in the air -- the golden glow from the stands themselves gleamed his eye through his glasses. Last year it seated five hundred thousand witches and wizards and this year was not likely to be any different.
"The Quidditch World Cup stadium took five hundred to build," Mr. Stone said, noting the awestruck look on Harry's face.
"I know," Harry told him. "Mr. Weasley told me. How many for this one?"
"I believe it took two thousand. They had a hell of a time finding wizards to work on it!"
As they approached the eleven gold and scarlet blurs in the sky, the team, including the five people on the backlist, were already at the Quidditch field. Just as last year, they weren't allowed to practice with the Fire Quidditch Bludgers, Quaffle and Snitch. They did, however, throw up four Bludgers and two Golden Snitches.
When Harry joined them, it was pandemonium. Up in the air on his Dragonback, Harry had a hard time dodging Bludger after Bludger. Now that there were four of them up in the air, they seemed much more capable of knocking him off his broom. About fifteen minutes into practice, Raides made her voice heard, calling Harry back down. They had both completely forgotten that Harry was to ride her like his broom instead of his Dragonback.
Switching from broom to staff, Harry soared back into the air, not feeling much of a difference except that he could turn much, much sharper. This gave him a much easier time dodging Blugers and after two hours of near misses with Bludgers to various parts of his body including a close call with his nose, the Golden Snitch beat it wings helplessly against Harry's fingers.
"Wow, Harry," Oliver Wood, their Keeper, yelled from across the field astonished. Oliver had been a Keeper at Hogwarts for three years and a most enthusiastic captain for Gryffindor's Quidditch team, Harry thought. "Usually you get it much faster than that."
"I know," said Harry, "but these stupid Bludgers are making it harder."
"Just watch your back in the game because --"
"I know, I know," Harry groaned. "All four of them will be tailing me when I'm chasing the Snitch. I've been practicing this time, though."
And then Harry remembered something that he had cleanly forgotten about: he didn't practice a way of disabling the fiery Bludgers. This was no comfort but he told Oliver regardless that he had a way to take the blades off the Spiked Snitch. Maybe he could just try to avoid them as best as possible? But there were four of them...
"Excellent weather they're saying for tomorrow," Mr. Stone was saying fervently. It would appear that since he had been talking himself silly, he had talked Raides clean out of his head. "A breezy day in August tomorrow. Couldn't ask for more!"
Harry was extremely glad to see that Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson had been as excellent Chasers as they had ever been. They took the time to tell Harry that after having graduated from Hogwarts, they played in a regional team all together, replacing the three Chasers already on that team. Mr. Stone had spotted them during his travels around England and immediately asked them to try out for England's Fire Quidditch team. They happily accepted, fully confident that with Harry as the Seeker, they weren't going to lose.
Mr. Stone joined them in the air, commentating on what they were doing. He repeatedly kept cheering as goal after goal, Oliver had a hard time blocking Quaffles soaring past him into the fifty foot high golden hoops. Harry had expressed his concern that Oliver was just losing his touch. It was then that Oliver insisted Harry take the Quaffle.
After fifteen minutes, Oliver had caught every last throw Harry made. He was satisfied -- Angelina, Katie and Alicia were just that good. They took a half hour break for lunch and went back into the air. The practice wasn't stressing, it was just so they could coordinate themselves with one another.
Sirius arrived with Ron and Hermione at his side with an hour of practice to go. Harry and Sirius took a good five minutes to say hello and when Ron kept staring longingly at Harry's Dragonback, Madelyn let Ron take her spot. She said it was because she was tired. Harry knew better. Sirius showed Harry the Daily Prophet from last summer in which there was a picture of Harry and Ron that someone had sneakily taken. Getting the Staff of Cybele was no easy feat and involved getting the front end of a Clades Ultimus, which the staff handily prevented from killing Harry and Ron. Ron had shared the spotlight with Harry for quite a few good months and it would appear he still was.
Flying around on Harry's Dragonback, Ron tried to show off a few moves he had been practicing since before Harry arrived at the Burrow. This included knocking Bludgers into one another (which he only managed to do once). By accident, he managed to whack one Bludger with his club into another Bludger, which careened into a third Bludger which sent that one flying off into the direction of the fourth Bludger which by some miracle hit the Quaffle that Katie had mis-passed to Alicia and sent it through one of the golden hoops. For a full ten minutes, Ron didn't stop staring at his club like it had been bewitched and it nearly costed him an unfractured arm.
Mr. Stone insisted that Madelyn take her position back in the air. She and Gregory tried for dear life to try and knock Bludgers into other Bludgers or into the Quaffle but simply couldn't; it was just a skill of Ron and the other Gryffindor team Beater, Kylie Randal. Kylie had a thing for Ron. She always giggled around him and Ron thought she treated Harry like a kid. To Ron's pleasure, Kylie graduated Hogwarts last year.
It was practically sundown when Mr. Stone let them go. Sirius immediately walked over to Harry as he landed with a soft thump on the hard ground. He took one look at Raides as she transformed into the great, seven foot lion, opened his mouth to say something, made a squeaking noise and then closed it.
"I get a lot of that," Raides told him. Sirius looked taken aback that she could talk.
"You'll get used to it after a while," said Harry, grinning. "That's the Staff of Cybele. Her name is Raides. She can transform into a lion but the only thing is that, well, she can't use magic unless she's the staff."
While they were walking back towards the tent, Sirius sloppily cleared his throat and managed to say, "Many people at the camp site are saying they think someone's gonna get hurt what with more Bludgers now."
"I know how I'm going to get rid of the blades on the Snitch but I -- er -- didn't find a way to get rid of the Bludgers..." said Harry quietly so only Sirius, Ron and Hermione could hear.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Sirius assured Harry, patting him genially on the shoulder.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry replied nervously.
"You could always try what you did two years ago, you know," said Raides, which startled Sirius. Harry shot her a quizzical look and she raised her golden-furred eyebrows in a superior fasion. "Remember how you shot a shard of ice at them?"
"But I had the mark of ancients... I tried that last year and it wasn't strong enough... ?" Harry said, confused.
Raides grinned gleefully at the trees just ahead of her and then turned to look at Harry for a bit, still grinning. She was apparently proud of herself for something.
"You're starting to sound like Albus Dumbledore," Harry told her. She laughed, her voice echoing loudly throughout the woods.
Raides didn't speak a word when Harry asked her what she meant but he had this strange feeling that, as always, what he needed to do would come to him at the last minute. He tended to trust his instincts more and more lately.
Back at the tent, Mrs. Weasley told Harry that Cho's parents had come to pick her up to stay at their tent. Slightly downtrodden that Cho wouldn't be able to see him just before he left tomorrow morning, Mrs. Weasley pointed out that the Changs' tent was no more than fifteen feet away from their own. Harry looked in the direction Mrs. Weasley pointed in and saw a rather mean-looking wizard glaring at him before disappearing inside the tent decorated with lightning bolts.
A witch no older than thirteen had come running up to Harry with a quill and one of those miniature models Fred and George had made. She asked him to sign it but Harry laughed as Ginny shot her a very contemptuous look and she scampered away. Ginny's mother was about to scorn her but she seemed to think better of it when she saw even Percy painfully trying to hide a snigger as well (everyone seemed to think it was funny).
"Told you, Harry," Fred sneered. "Like hotcakes."
Harry scowled.