(GoF) CHAPTER FIVE: Setting Up Camp
They did their best to settle into some degree of normalcy over the next few days. Fred stopped pushing the subject of romance, and Ellie stopped allowing herself to fall asleep next to him on the couch, no matter how good it felt to do so. Before long, Molly and Arthur announced that Harry's aunt and uncle had accepted their request to pull Harry out of their home early to take him to the Quidditch World Cup, and it was time for them all to travel to Harry's via Floo powder to collect him.
Ellie considered pointing out to them that the typical Muggle wasn't quite accustomed to large families of wizards showing up in their fireplaces, but decided it would be more fun to let it happen. It wasn't the entire family, anyway; Molly was staying behind with Ginny, Percy, Bill, and Charlie.
Unfortunately, when Ellie showed up in Harry's fireplace, she found herself faced with a boarded up, brick wall.
"Blimey," said Arthur from next to her. "Never had this happen before. Harry, are you there?"
"Mr. Weasley?" shouted Harry back from the other side of the wall. "Mr. Weasley, is that you?
"It's boarded up," Ellie explained to Arthur as the rest of their group started to pop in. It was already close quarters, and becoming closer by the second. "We're going to have to blast our way through."
"Right," said Arthur, as if he'd known it all along. "Right. Stand back, then, you lot."
"That goes for you, too, Harry!" Ellie shouted through the fireplace. "Stand back!"
She closed her eyes as Arthur performed a nonverbal spell to blast through the fireplace. She opened them as soon as he was done, eager to finally see the infamous Dursleys.
They looked terrified, of course—terrified and furious.
"So sorry about that," said Arthur cheerfully as he, Ellie, and the rest of the Weasleys stepped into Harry's living room. "I'll clean up after us, of course—naturally. Ah—you must be the Dursleys. Arthur Weasley, at your service."
Ellie made eye contact with Harry for the first time at that. He looked horrified—though no more horrified than his aunt, uncle, and cousin. When he saw Ellie, though, he seemed to relax—at least, until he took in her appearance.
Did she really look that different, she couldn't help but wonder as he stared at her like she was some sort of foreign creature? It had only been a few months, after all.
"We'd better be going, then," Arthur was saying—finally seeming to sense the revulsion the Dursleys were feeling towards him. "So sorry, again, for the trouble with the fireplace. As I said, we'll be fixing it up. Go on, then, Harry—say your goodbyes."
"Right," said Harry, forcing a grim smile in the direction of his extended family. "See you."
But not one of them said anything back to him.
"Pardon me," said Arthur, rounding back on the Dursleys. "But surely you mean to say goodbye to your nephew?"
Harry and Ellie exchanged an amused look at that; clearly they had no intentions of doing so. But, to Ellie's amazement, Arthur spewed into a rather impressive speech about how Harry deserved a goodbye and they weren't leaving until he got one.
"I'll Apparate back to the Burrow after I've mended this," he told the kids after Harry finally got his goodbye. "You lot go on ahead."
"Wow," Ellie whispered to Harry as they stepped into the fireplace. "Who knew Mr. Weasley was so tough?"
Despite Harry's initial reaction to seeing Ellie's changed appearance, he returned to normalcy quickly with her. They had loads to catch up on, and Ellie shared every tidbit of information with him as eagerly as she had with Fred, save for one, particularly painful and embarrassing subject: Aleks.
Hermione arrived at the Burrow a few days later, which really settled them into their usual routine. The quarters in Ginny's room certainly felt tight with all three girls sleeping there, but they were all such good friends, no one seemed to mind.
Finally, the day of the World Cup was upon them. They woke up absurdly early—well before the rising of the sun—at the insistence of Arthur. Ellie grimaced at the sight of her reflection in the mirror—quite deprived of sleep, with bags under her eyes—as she pulled her hair into a high, messy ponytail, shoved on some shorts and a tank top (another insistence of Arthur's: they were all to dress like Muggles), and headed down the stairs.
"You know," said Fred in amusement when he saw her, "for someone who got even more ridiculously beautiful this year, you certainly don't seem to put much effort into your appearance."
"Would you prefer I go back to the Stupid Girl phase?" she grumbled as she accepted the cup of coffee he handed her, trying not to let his choice of words, even more ridiculously beautiful, get to her.
"Definitely not."
"Oh, stop your flirting," grumbled Ginny as she trudged down the stairs behind Ellie. "It's way too early for all that."
Ellie and Fred exchanged amused glances at that as the rest of the family—plus Harry and Hermione—headed down the stairs.
"Right, then," said Arthur when they had all conglomerated. "We've got a long walk ahead of us. Follow me."
"Mr. Weasley," Ellie said as they started the journey on foot away from the Burrow. "Where are we walking to, exactly?"
"There are thousands of families attending this year's World Cup," Arthur explained gleefully to her. "In order to try to limit the amount of families arriving by Floo or Apparition at the same time and frightening the nearby Muggles, they've released time slots to groups of wizarding families in which they're to arrive via Portkey."
"Portkey?" repeated Harry curiously, echoing Ellie's own confusion. "What's that?"
"It's a sort of magical transportation device," explained Charlie. "Looks like an everyday object, mind you, so the Muggles don't get too curious about it. When you touch it, it takes you to a predetermined location."
"Wicked," breathed Ron excitedly. "Dad, did you say 'groups' of wizarding families?"
"Yes, I did," said Arthur. "And here's our other group right now—hallo, Amos!"
Ellie's eyes bulged when she spotted the pair of wizards approaching them—a middle-aged man she didn't recognize who must be Amos and the much younger—though still a good deal older than Ellie—boy called Cedric Diggory.
Ellie had known Cedric for several years by then—not only from Quidditch, in which she was a Gryffindor Chaser and he was a Hufflepuff Seeker, but also from the small performances she and her rock band, The Weasleys, often put on. Cedric liked to fancy himself their biggest fan, though she had her doubts about the accuracy of that statement.
Her hand flew instinctively to her messy pile of hair when she saw him. She couldn't help it; she might not have real feelings for Cedric like she did for Fred, but the guy was still undeniably handsome—quite possibly the most handsome boy she had ever seen.
"Do me a favour," Fred whispered into her ear as they approached the pair. "Try not to make this too painful for me."
His words surprised her for more reason than one. She preferred this strange sort of joking to his flat-out getting upset or judgmental with her, yet it was quite unusual for him. Had he really gone from being the ultimate coward to being just the opposite so quickly?
Not that quickly, she reminded herself as Cedric flashed his pearly whites and jogged over to hug her. It still took four years.
"You look great, Ellie," Cedric told her when he pulled away from her. They continued following Arthur further into the middle of nowhere as he continued, "How was your summer?"
The rumours must not have been all that rampant, she mused, if he hadn't heard. Or was he only being polite? "It was… eventful," she said carefully. "How was yours?"
He chuckled. "Not half as interesting as yours, I'm sure." Okay—maybe he had heard them. "But glad to be here—and in good company, no less."
"Keep an eye out, children," chirped Molly front the front of the line before Fred could grumble anything about the cheesy line. "We're looking for a commonplace artifact that Muggles wouldn't blink twice at."
There weren't exactly a lot of artifacts to choose from in those parts. Ellie spotted the boot almost immediately and pointed it out to the others.
"Very good, Ellie!" cheered Arthur enthusiastically. "Right, then, everyone—grab on."
Of all the methods of transportation Ellie had experienced thus far, the Portkey was officially her least favourite. It felt like all of them were glued to the Portkey with some sort of magical superglue, but if they weren't, they would have gone flying so hard and fast, they would have hit an alternate dimension.
Things got no less bizarre when they landed in a great, deserted moor on the other side, which housed the campsite for the whole of the Cup. Ellie and the others watched in amusement as Arthur struggled to carry on a Muggle-esque conversation with Mr. Roberts, the Muggle campsite manager from whom they were renting their space and gear. The man seemed baffled not only by them, but also by the hundreds upon thousands of other "Muggles" he'd come across that day.
"Poor guy," joked Cedric to Ellie when they left Mr. Roberts behind, gear in hand, and continued toward the camp site to set up their tents.
"Come along, Ced," said Amos Diggory to his son when Ellie's group came to a stop at their clearing. "We're a bit further down."
Cedric hesitated, looking reluctant to leave them. "Surely there's room here for one more tent, right, Dad? I wouldn't mind catching up with my classmates a bit longer."
Amos gave Ellie a bit of a sour look at that, seeming to sense that she was the reason for the change of plans. But, seeming to want to keep his son happy, he smiled and nodded. "Fine by me if it's fine by you, Arthur."
"Of course, of course," said Arthur, who seemed far too focused on setting up the tents to care much about the teen drama. "Harry, Ellie, Hermione—think you could give me a hand with this?"
Harry, Ellie, and Hermione—the three members of the group who had grown up with Muggles—exchanged amused glances as they headed over to help Arthur set up camp. To Ellie's surprise, though, Cedric appeared at her side only a moment later, looking eager to help.
"I don't know much about this sort of thing," he admitted with a handsome smile. "But I'm not one to let a lady work while I'm standing still."
A fake retching sound came from somewhere near the twins, but Ellie ignored it as she showed Cedric how to use the tools involved in pitching a tent.
When Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch showed up at their fully set up tents (magically charmed to be bigger on the inside than the outside, of course) for tea and conversation, Ellie found herself desperate to be anywhere but there. Fred seemed to notice, as he always did, but he wasn't the only one this time—and Cedric got to her first.
"I'm not particularly interested in politics, if I'm being honest," he told her with that handsome smile of his after pulling her aside. "And something tells me that, despite what they say about you having interned with Muggle politicians in Germany over the summer, you aren't, either. Fancy having a walk?"
Her eyes trailed heavily over toward Fred, who was staring right back at her. Try not to make this too painful for me, he had said to her earlier that day. Would going off on a walk with Cedric be that?
If it did, though, would it be fair? One of the things that had been the hardest for her to give was how completely he had written her off for being with Oliver last year. If he hadn't gotten past that, wasn't it better for her to know now than later?
Her mind flashed to the list of boys he'd given her on Christmas Eve when he'd thrown her dating habits in her face. He'd mentioned Cedric, despite the fact that they'd never actually dated. Was this what he had predicted? How could he have known?
She pushed all of those thoughts away as she smiled at Cedric—a boy who hadn't previously broken her heart into smithereens—and said, "Sure."
Uh-oh... is Ellie about to get distracted by ANOTHER non-Fred entity? That Cedric certainly is pretty... Only one way of finding out, and that's to keep reading! And also, you know, to review! You know you want to...
