It was shortly after the tearful reunions had ended, when Mrs. Weasley's sheer joy that her family was alive and well, while bright, seemed to fade in the face of the darkness that had befallen the World Cup. The group sat around the Weasley family table, where just days ago they had been cheerfully eating and laughing, eagerly awaiting the spectacle of the Quidditch World Cup, and looking forward to the new Hogwarts term. The mood instead was somber, as their eyes fell upon the newspapers strewn across the table, headlines shouting out.
"Horror at the Quidditch World Cup!"
"Campgrounds Ablaze, Muggles Tortured!"
"The Dark Mark Seen Over England Again."
At the very top, on the front page of the Daily Prophet, a picture of the eerie symbol danced across the picture frame.
"Dad…"
Ron broke the silence with a quiet question.
"Why… is everyone so worried, so scared of the Dark Mark? It's just a symbol in the sky, like a firework."
Mr. Weasley sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"I had hoped that I would never have to talk to you about that mark, but it seems I have no choice. It was a time of war, Ron. Maybe not as outright, as easily visible on a battlefield like in muggle wars, or on a chess set. But that made it all the worse. The battlefield was our cities, our towns, our homes. And we weren't winning. It felt like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could strike us anywhere. Some of our most powerful allies, struck down in their sleep, attacked in their homes. Nowhere was safe. And that damned mark… The Death Eaters put it up whenever they killed someone, whenever their attacks succeeded."
The older man drew in a shaky breath, clutching his wife's hand close to himself.
"When you saw that mark, you knew. That someone you loved was gone. Dead, or worse. You knew your life would never be the same. I knew people… who couldn't bear to find what lay in the smoking husks of their homes, that cursed green skull and snake hanging over the bodies of their wives… their children. It wasn't uncommon then, for people to turn their wand on themselves… It was too hard to live with the pain. It's not just a mark, not just a bit of light in the air. It's a death sentence. I never thought I would have to see that mark again."
-line break-
The scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express pulled smoothly out of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, smoke filling the air as the train full of students bound for a new school year sped away. The muffled goodbyes and figures waving slowly faded away as the last carriage left the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny walked through the hallway of the train, looking for an open compartment. Spotting some friends from her year, the younger girl gave an apologetic, but not quite contrite grin, and bid farewell to the trio.
As they neared the end of one carriage, they saw a familiar round face through the sliding doors leading to the adjacent car.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione! I was just looking for you!"
The boy opened the door, and held it open so that they could pass through.
"I've got a compartment at the end here, come on."
"You're an absolute legend, Neville, thank you."
Ron thanked the shorter boy as he walked passed him.
Neville opened the door to his compartment, and the group filed in. Inside, reading a newspaper that was clearly upside down, was a familiar blonde haired girl. She looked up, and smiled at the newcomers.
"Oh, Harry, Hermione, Ronald. It's very nice to see you again."
Neville looked at tad nervous, looking between Harry and Luna.
"Ah… you know her?"
Harry nodded.
"Yep, we met up with Luna at the World Cup, she actually lives quite near the Weasley's house. Did… you not know her, Neville? You're in the same compartment after all…"
Harry trailed off, curious. Neville flushed, mumbling under his breath.
"There weren't any open compartments, and she was kind enough to let me in so…"
Hermione smiled.
"Well it's nice to see you again Neville, and you Luna. Neville, I hope you had a good summer? And Luna… what are you reading?"
Neville looked over to Luna, who was happily humming while continuing to read her flipped newspaper, seemingly oblivious to Hermione's question. Seeing this, he answered.
"Well my summer's been alright, homework was annoying of course… I'm really not looking forward to potions. I think this'll be the year Snape finally snaps and kills me. But, I heard you three were at the World Cup? Crazy things happened, huh. I really wanted to go, but my gram wouldn't get tickets. Although honestly, after I saw some of that news, I did feel a little better about not going."
Harry grimaced.
"It was pretty scary, although I really enjoyed most of it. The match was absolutely incredible, and the atmosphere was even better. But I think you might be right… what happened after… I don't think I can ever forget. No matter how much I want to."
Neville shuddered, face paling, seeming to shrink into himself.
"Death Eaters…"
He whispered, his eyes downcast. Ron patted him on the shoulder, nodding solemnly.
"I didn't know it was that bad… I've heard Dad talk about the war before, but that… that was something else."
Silence pervaded the compartment, the usually boisterous and oblivious Ron deep in thought.
"When my mum died, I was quite sad."
The statement shattered the silence. In a conversational tone, Luna continued.
"But I always found that a nice sweet candy could cheer me up, even if it was just pushing away the dark for a little while."
The girl finished her sentence brightly, nodded her head towards the compartment door.
"Here comes the trolley now!"
4 pairs of eyes turned toward the door, waiting. After a moment of silence, Hermione opened her mouth, about to speak. Then, the clattering of the trolley came through the doors, followed by a knock at their door, the head of the ever cheerful witch who manned the trolley poking through.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Neville's eyebrows rose comically, as Hermione squawked in disbelief. Harry, having gotten relatively used to Luna's antics, chuckled, glad that the mood in the room had lightened. He jumped up, and walked towards the trolley, money pouch in hand.
"We'll take 5 Chocolate Frogs, 5 Pumpkin Pasties, and a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans please!"
"That will be a galleon and 4 sickles!"
The kind woman handed over the snacks to Harry, who, balancing them in his arms, made to pay. Hermione stepped in front of him, handing the money over to the woman.
"Enjoy, dears!"
Hermione smiled, and closed the door behind the departing trolley. Harry tried futilely to protest, but was shut down by a quick glare from the bushy-haired girl. With a smile, Harry began distributing the snacks, tossing them around to his friends. A chorus of 'Thank you' rang out from the compartment, as the students began opening up the goodies.
The conversation started to flow, the 4th years soon forgetting the troubles of the past, focusing on Chocolate Frog cards, with Ron in particular frustrated with another Agrippa drought, while Harry and Hermione happily built up their budding collections. The Every Flavor beans proved to be another entertaining diversion from the darkness, with Luna in particular managing to have phenomenal luck seemingly without even trying. Alas, the peaceful atmosphere was not to last, quickly broken by a true horror.
"Potter!"
The door was flung open, revealing a rather smug looking Draco Malfoy, flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at the group.
"Have you managed to drag even more pathetic little worms to you, Potter? Longbottom… snivelling like always, and oh! You've managed to get an actually crazy one, Potter, well done. Loony should fit right in."
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
Ron spat out the words, full of venom, the cheer from moments ago vanishing. Malfoy raised an eyebrow, examining his fingernails before replying.
"To ask whether Potter's going to enter, of course. Don't worry, I know you wouldn't. A Weasley isn't cut out for glory, after all."
Harry frowned.
"Enter what, Malfoy."
Malfoy looked aback, glancing over to Ron as well. Upon seeing an equally confused look upon the redhead's face, his shock turned to delighted surprise. The blonde haired Slytherin doubled over with mocking laughter. Pausing, he looked up at Ron.
"You mean to say, Weasley, that your father, and your brother both work in the Ministry, and you don't know?"
"No! I don't! What are you talking about!"
Ron snapped, clearly angry at the joy Malfoy was taking in his lack of knowledge. Blinking away tears, Malfoy smirked, replying.
"Ah well, I should have expected that. My apologies, Weasel. I should have known, people in such lowly and useless positions would hardly be told anything."
Malfoy sighed obnoxiously.
"It's going to be held at Hogwarts this year, and it's the first one in ages! I'm sure you'll find some way to wriggle in, Potter, but make no mistake, you won't be stealing my glory this time."
With a snort, Malfoy turned around.
"Let's go, Crabbe, Goyle. Useless idiots…"
With a last smirk as he closed the door behind him, Malfoy left, once again leaving the compartment in silence.
"That absolute git!"
Ron raged, fuming at the departing Slytherin.
"Although… What could he possibly have been talking about? We've already had the World Cup this year, I mean, that's a huge event…"
Harry tilted his head to the side, before shrugging.
"I have no idea, but… do you remember after your dad found us, Bill was saying something about a show, right? Maybe that could have to do with whatever Malfoy was talking about?"
Ron nodded slowly.
"Yeah, I remember. I wonder what it is though, honestly, I've had enough excitement for a year. I'd be happy to have a nice peaceful term but…"
He shoved Harry good naturedly.
"Who am I kidding, with you around there's always going to be plenty of action to look forward to."
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure there'll be an official announcement about it sooner or later, especially if it's something as huge as Malfoy made it seem."
Hermione pitched in with her cool headed take, heading off any more speculation about the events that were to come.
"Now come on, Luna, let's get changed into our robes, we're bound to be getting close."
The blonde haired girl lazily placed her newspaper beside her, before standing up and following Hermione out of the room. Looking over at the paper she had left behind, Ron raised his eyebrows.
"The Quibbler, huh."
While Neville and Harry started opening their luggage, Ron turned to a random page, reading it out loud.
JUST HOW FAR WILL THE VIRUS SPREAD?
Harmless Muggle Cold OR Fatal Magic Killer?
Just over a month ago the Quibbler first received word of a virus spreading in the muggle world. Contagious and deadly, the virus plunged the muggle world into chaos, sparking lockdowns, while the sight of muggles in white masks became common. Thankfully for the muggles, even without magic they were able to find a solution to their problems, researching and modifying an existing technique of preventing the spread of viruses, and applied it to the crisis at hand. When questioned, the Ministry of Magic liaison to the Muggle Prime Minister was adamant that there would be no impact on the Wizarding World.
BUT WILL IT?
Reliable sources close to the Minister tell the Quibbler that in fact many cases have been recorded in Europe, where the virus was also more prevalent among muggles. In fact, says Greg Mendax, of 23 Pine View, not only can wizards and witches get the virus, they have been for weeks now, but magical governments around the world have been hiding the cases.
"I've been inside one of them facilities," Mendax says. "They keep the sick ones in there, right next to the Rotfang gum disease patients. If you go in, you ain't coming out."
The Quibbler would like to remind its readers that the Rotfang Conspiracy, which we are currently investigating, is a potential coup d'etat plot by a number of disenfranchised Aurors and other Ministry officials who are attempting to bring about the collapse of Wizarding Britain through a nefarious set of schemes involving gum disease and dark magic. Perhaps this virus is the latest phase in their secret plans.
Regardless of its relation to the Rotfang Conspiracy it is undoubtable that the true impact of this muggle virus is yet to be seen. The Quibbler will continue updating you on the unfolding situation.
NEXT - FUDGE: CANNIBAL, CRIMINAL, ANIMAL?
With a flourish, robes thrown carelessly over his shoulders, Ron finished reading the article. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, as Hermione and Luna returned to the compartment.
"Luna, this is brilliant!"
Ron was effusive with his praise, holding out the Quibbler.
"Rotfang Conspiracy? Fudge a cannibal? I want to know more, could I borrow this for a bit?"
Luna hummed to herself, before smiling.
"Of course, Ronald. I'd be happy to set you up with a subscription if you want?"
As the two began talking rather excitedly about the Quibbler, Neville glanced over to Harry and Hermione.
"Erm… does Ron know Luna's serious, and does Luna know Ron thinks this is a joke newspaper?"
The two shook their heads. Neville nodded.
"Well… it seems to be working out just fine."
As he reached that conclusion, the train reached its own, gradually slowing down, indicating its approach into Hogsmeade station. Harry and the others began to pack up their belongings, cleaning up their seats of the wrappers and boxes from their snacks, and collecting their bags from the overhead racks. The hallway started filling up, as doors to compartments opened, and students filed outside, trying to get off. The brakes screeched slightly, and there was a gentle jolt as the Hogwarts Express came to a halt. The doors opened in unison, and students with their trunks alongside them poured out onto the platform.
As Harry made his way off the train behind Ron, he looked up, gazing at the castle rising up out of the darkness in the distance. Having crossed the lake in his first year, crashed into the Whomping Willow the second, and almost having his soul sucked out in the third, Harry had yet to fully enjoy the nighttime arrival at Hogwarts from London. Harry's shoulders slumped, as if finally at ease, releasing some of the stress that had been ever-present at Privet Drive, and exacerbated by the events of the Quidditch World Cup. He was home.
As the line of carriages slowly moved off toward the castle, the moon shining above cast its light onto the lake. Glass-like, only disturbed slightly by the small fleet of boats headed across, it gave off an ethereal glow. As the sounds of conversation and laughter petered off, a quiet peace once again fell over the town of Hogsmeade.
AN: Another chapter done! Things are pretty busy for me right now so I don't know if I'll be able to keep up the pace, apologies in advance, but I hope you enjoy!
