The Hill of Sissyphus

By the time Ila was woken up the next morning by Mrs Weasley, it felt like she barely slept at all. Ginny grumbled, turning away from her mother, and though Hermione struggled, she was the first to get out. Ila soon followed, and they all dressed in silence, too tired and too cold to speak to one another. They went downstairs to the kitchen, and a sight greeted Ila that she thought she would never have seen. She had seen Ron and the twins in muggle clothing before but with muggle fanatic Mr Weasley…

A part of her knew that this day would come soon.

He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and an ancient pair of jeans, slightly too big and too low for him, that reminded her of all the teens that Aadit uncle hated, which was held up with a thick leather belt.

"What d'you think?" he asked anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito — do I look like a Muggle, Ila?"

"Yep," said Ila, smiling, "very good."

"You look…" Ginny smiled as she tried to develop the nicest words to tell her father, "…interesting…."

"Thank you, Ginny," he said, nodding at her before sitting back down to read the paper.

On the front cover, in bold letters, were, "SQUIB GOLD DIGGER DISAPPEARED, LEAVING HUSBAND WITH NO MONEY!" The picture next to the article was of a woman, tall, spindly, with blonde hair pulled back in a slicked bun. She wore a white dress and stared deadpanned at the camera. To her right was who Ila, assumed her penniless husband. One arm was around her waist, while the other was shielding them from the confetti and flowers thrown by fellow witches and wizards that attended the wedding.

Ila took a seat at the table next to Ron, who was so sleep deprived, he kept nodding off until he could no longer help himself and close his eyes.

And have his head land in his bowl of porridge.

No bothered him. No one had enough energy to do or say anything, not even the twins, who were usually the most energetic out of all of them.

"Why we are up so early?" George moaned, who also looked in danger of falling asleep into his porridge. Ila did wonder how Ron was able to breathe. She quickly checked to see his back slowly falling up and down before paying attention to the conversation.

"We could have just apparated there," Fred grumbled. "Could've stayed in like the others."

"That's because 'the others' have already passed their apparition test," Mr Weasley said.

"Apparition test?" Ila asked, her brain finally catching up to the conversation playing out in front of her.

"It's another form of wizards travelling," Hermione mumbled sleepily. "It's like Floo, but…not…really…."

"Essentially, you can pop in and out of places without using fireplaces. All you have to do is think of the place, and then…you're there," Mr Weasley said far too enthusiastically for Ila. "And the reason why you do a test is so that you don't end up hurting yourself or…end up going to the wrong place, think of it like having a driving license."

"How would you hurt yourself?" Ila asked.

"Splinching," Mr Weasley said. "Sometimes you turn up with an arm missing or a toe attached to your forehead."

This seemed to jolt Ila awake. "Huh?"

"Shh!" Ron said as splutters of porridge flew out of his bowl. "Too loud!"

"That only rarely happens," Mr Weasley said hurriedly. "Only for people who haven't taken the test does it happen more for them. I remember one time there was a nasty case where a wizard was trying to apparate away from his wife, but she grabbed on last second and they sort…welded into each other." A gory image of two people sewn together filled Ila's mind, and suddenly her porridge seemed like the most unappetising meal.

"And anyway, what's wrong with a bit of walking?" Mr Weasley asked.

The twins started deadpanned at him before pointing out the window. Coincidentally thunder rumbled over them, followed by a flash of lightning. For a moment, the twins were surprised, shocked by their new powers to control the weather.

"So are we going to Floo to the Cup Final then?" Ila asked, causing Mr Wealsey to burst out, chuckling.

"Ah, no, Ila, that would be too far! Besides, we'll be in the middle of a field; they don't have that many fireplaces out there, do they?"

"Maybe we'll be surprised," Fred muttered.

"We'll be going by Portkey," Mr Weasley said, ignoring Fred.

"What's a Port-"

"An object that can transport witches or wizards into…somewhere," Hermione said, making Ila feel bad for constant asking. No one else seemed to mind, mostly because the majority were sleeping while Mr Weasley was busy checking his watch.

"Right, I think it's time," Mr Weasley said, scraping his chair loudly, causing the twins to hiss. "This'll be fun! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Fun my arse," George muttered as he and Fred got up. The girls also managed to leave the comfort of the wooden table to put their walking boots on and coats.

"Come on, Ron," Mr Weasley said cheerily. "Ron...Ron?..."

Despite what Mr Weasley thought, a few 'worst' things happened during their walk. It turned out Ron was just a heavy sleeper. For most of the walk, Ila and Hermione had to help Ron pick wet globs of porridge out of his hair and even some oats out of his nose. After that, Ila decided that it was better if she walked further up where Ginny was.

It also didn't help that it was raining so heavily that Ila gave up on wearing her glasses since it worsened her sight. Though, now looking back, that may have been a worse idea. Ila couldn't differentiate a single thing, all of it being one continuous blur. Which caused her to cling onto Ginny's arm for most of the walk until a certain red-headed girl that's bad at giving warnings forgot to tell our wonderful heroine that a branch was sticking out from the ground. Which meant said wonderful heroine didn't realise until it was too late when she found herself flying towards the floor and landing in a big pile of mud. Or at least she hoped it mud.

But that wasn't the worst. No, picking Ron's boogers or falling face-first in a pile of dog shit wasn't as bad.

It was that bloody hill.

Who even walks up hills for fun?

Murders, kidnappers, idiots who think walking up a hill would be a good exercise only for them to be kidnapped and then murdered!

But not Ila Potter. Yes, she was good at Quidditch and to be good at Quidditch, you do have to be somewhat athletic, but Ila was able to get away with that. Being a seeker meant that you only have to be short. Besides, no one sane person walks up a hill to exercise.

It was fine at first. The walk was quite gentle. Without her glasses, Ila could concentrate on the sounds of rain pattering against the leaves, the buzz of the forest and its inhabitants, the weird conversation of the twins and Ron. It was serene. Ila couldn't tell what the time was, with the dark clouds being so thick, no sunlight was going to be able to pass through, but she could hear the morning songs of birds twittering by as she sat down on a branch. Mr Weasley had decided it would be a good place to take a break. Ila sipped out of her water bottle, watching the tall trees above her. Green blurred into brown, with the occasional black and orange drifting past.

"Ila, would you rather have no elbows or no knees?" George asked. Ila could feel the branch sinking as the twins sat beside her. She closed her eyes, taking in the last moments of peace before looking back down.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked.

"A good kind of question," Fred said.

"It's essentially would you rather have no arms or no legs," Hermione said, who was resting on her backpack.

"No, it's not actually," he replied defensively, "It does you want stubby hands or stubby legs?"

"No knees," Ila said, slightly ashamed at how hard she was thinking about it. "I don't need to have legs to be a seeker, but I do need my arms. Besides, it already looks like I don't have any knees, to begin with."

"How're you going to balance?" Ginny asked. Ila patted her stomach before realising cramps formed after doing that.

"Ok, right, would you rather….er – oh! Have 100 spiders in your house or 1000…crickets in your room?"

"Crickets!" Ron said far too quickly. Everyone looked at him.

"Care to you explain, Ronald?" Fred said, a smirk playing his lips.

"Why the hell would anyone want to have spiders in their house?"

"Over 1000 crickets?" Ila asked. She knew that Ron was deathly afraid of spiders - that was made clear during their second year when they miscalculated their landing of the Flying Ford Angelina and ended up in the Forbidden Forest, surround by giant spiders. Essentially, Ron's worse nightmare. But she still couldn't help herself to ask.

"Crickets don't do anything do they?" Ron said.

"Spiders don't either," Ginny said.

"Yes, they do, they crawl all over you when you're asleep, and before you know it, you're choking on a spider in the middle of the night," Ron shuddered at the mere thought. Or from the way he was speaking, a memory.

"Oh, I have one," Hermione said. "Would you rather live one life that lasts 1,000 years or live 10 lives that last 100 years each?"

"Huh?" everyone said at the same time, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

"It's not that hard."

"You're basically asking us how we want to spend our immortality," Ginny said. "I've got a better one; if someone offered the chance for you to be immortal, would you take it?"

"Good one," George said, narrowing his eyes into the distance as he thought about it.

"Would anyone that I know be immortal too?" Ila asked.

"Er – no. You're the only one that gets offered the chance."

"Yeah, why not?" Ila said, shrugged her shoulders. Everyone agreed with her.

"I wouldn't," Hermione said. "You'll be all alone and think of how much pain you'll be in for the rest of eternity, thinking of all the lost ones you've loved. You won't be able to form real relationships because you'll be too scared that they'll grow old and die!"

The group fell silent as they stared at Hermione, who looked down with the sudden attention on her.

"You alright, Mione?" Ron asked. She didn't get to answer because Mr Weasely spoke to the group.

"Alright, I think we've had enough of a break," he said, grabbing his things.

"How much longer do we have?" Ginny moaned.

"Not that far, Gin, it's only up that hill, and that's it," Mr Weasley said, pointing up the hill. Everyone's face turned to horror before groans of protest erupted the peacefulness of the forest. Confused, Ila decided to take her glasses out, wiping a few of the water droplets on her fleece. When she did, she wished she hadn't, instead of living in ignorant bliss.

"You've got to be kidding me."

It was one of the steepest hills Ila had ever climbed. Actually, scratch that, not only was it the steepest, but it seemed to be the longest. Maybe it was because she wasn't wearing her glasses; it felt like their path was going on and on for an entire eternity. At some points, Ila wondered whether it was even safe to climb up hills that steep. They had to use trees to keep them upright constantly. The twins even used long branches as walking sticks, though those didn't last long. The two got bored and ended up hitting each other until they suddenly broke.

The further they got up the hill, the harder it was to breathe. Not only was her bag weighing down her, but she felt the air itself was beginning to compress her lungs. By the time she saw the hill beginning to level out, her legs were about to give way. Thankfully, they did on the level ground.

Ila rolled over so that she was watching the sky, something she hadn't seen when she was in the forest and took as deep of breaths as she could. It was still hard, but it was better than when she was walking up that…cliffside. By now, the rain had stopped. Ila heard Hermione collapse beside her, trying to breathe through her nose but failing.

"How…on earth…do…you…you enjoy Quidditch…."

"You usually go up in the air by a broom, which is much easier in my opinion," Ila said, wiping her glasses and putting them on. She was met with an upside-down panting Ron and Mr Weasley, who looked completely composed.

"Please…tell…Portkey…here?" Upside - down - Ron said, giving up on forming real sentences.

"It's somewhere here," Upside - down - Mr Weasley, checked his watch. "We're 10 minutes early, so that will be enough time – come on, everyone, spread out and look for the Portkey."

"What exactly is a Portkey supposed to look like, Mr Weasley?" Hermione asked once she and Ila managed to gain some strength in their legs and looked through an area with particularly long grass.

"Anything really," Mr Weasley shouted back. "It has to be something that Muggles don't go around and pick up…merlin knows how disastrous that would be…anything that resembles litter most likely."

The six of them waded through the long grass, searching for anything that resembled litter.

"Is it this?" Ron shouted at a mouldy apple. Ila peered closer to see maggots crawling through it.

"Why don't you touch it?" Fred said. "You'll know it then."

Turning back, Ron saw his father hadn't heard, too caught up on a toy car that revealed itself to be a lighter when lifting the top part.

"Go on," George said.

Ron sighed before shaking himself, getting ready.

"You're not going to fight the apple," Ginny said. Ron took a deep breath before slowly squatting to the ground. He took one final look at the group above him.

"If this is it, you'll touch it too, right?" Ron said.

"Well…"

"Er -"

"You know…"

He pointed one finger at the apple and slowly moved his hand closer and closer to the apple. He hesitated when he saw one of the maggots crawl out of the apple and fall onto the ground, startling Ila.

But he continued, his finger getting closer to the rotten apple –

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" a man shouted. Immediately Ron retracted his finger and looked up to see Mr Weasley walk up to tall figures up a small hill. That was when the realisation dawned on what he would do, but everyone had already started walking away from him.

"Amos!" Mr Weasley said, smiling as he shook the man's hand. "This is Amos Diggory, everyone; he works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory, a very handsome boy, according to all the girls at Hogwarts, was captain of the Hufflepuff team and fellow seeker. He was the sweetest guy Ila ever knew. Last year, when Hufflepuff had beaten Gryffindor, he had offered a rematch because he felt it was unfair, which it was, but that's beside the point. Ila assumed that was the only way he knew about her. What kind of sixth year wants to know about some measly fourth year?

"Hello," Cedric said, looking around at them all. When he got to Ila, he smiled softly, and she felt her heart flutter out of her chest. She smiled back softly as everyone said hello to him; the only people who didn't were the twins, who just nodded.

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

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

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still…not complaining…Quidditch World Cup wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, it looks like I got off easy…."

Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Ila, Hermione, and Ginny.

"All these yours, Arthur?" he said, confusion spreading over his face as his eyes landed on Ila and Hermione. "Good of you to adopt; merlin knows what would have happened if they stayed back in their countries."

"We probably would have enjoyed it just as much, Mr Diggory," Hermione said. "In fact, maybe we would have enjoyed it more if it weren't for people like you."

Mr Diggory scoffed, his brows raising. He was about to say something when Mr Weasley quickly explained who everyone was.

"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr Weasley said, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, a friend of Ron's — and Ila, another friend —"

"Merlin's beard," Amos Diggory said, his eyes widening. "Ila? As in Ila Potter?"

"I doubt there are many Ila Potters around," Ila said dryly. Although she was used to the constant stares, especially to her scar, it never made it any less uncomfortable when people did it.

"You're a lot shorter than I expected," he said, taking off his glasses, rubbing his eyes and then putting them back on again, "…and a lot darker than I assumed."

It also wasn't the first time she heard that one before. Though, she should have expected it from him.

"Excuse me?"

"Dad…" Cedric hissed.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," Amos Diggory said, who was completely unfazed with several glares he was receiving from Ila and her friends. "Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . You beat Ila Potter! Well, I mean, of course, anyone would, but that's still something."

Ila didn't know what to say, mainly because she was still irritated by the certain comment he made, so she remained quiet. If the Varmas were here, they would probably end up shouting or punch the man in Aadit's case. Though Ila could feel the pulses running down her arm, her brain telling her, 'Go on…do it…he's a racist, he deserves it,' she knew it would end up being a bigger deal than it was.

So instead, she just let Fred and George size the man up while Cedric looked embarrassed.

"I told you before Dad…she fell off her broom," he muttered. "It was accident…there were dementors there-"

"Ah yes, but you didn't fall off your broom did?" he roared genially, clamping a hand on his son's shoulder, "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman…but the best man – or person – won," – he laughed at his own 'joke' – "I'm sure Ila would say the same too, wouldn't ya? I mean, come on, it was going to be expected anyway…look at her. She doesn't really look like the type to win?"

Perhaps one punch would be good.

"Amos," Mr Weasley said warningly.

"What?" he asked innocently. "Everyone knows that Pakis aren't inclined towards sports like that. Devraj always goes on about cricket."

Perhaps two would be better.

"Apologise. Now."

Mr Diggory chuckled until he realised that Mr Weasley was serious. "I'm sorry…I'm sure you're breaking all those stereotypes-"

"Stereotypes that are prevalent because of people like you still uphold them," Ila said, mimicking his smile. "Oh, I'm Indian, by the way, you know…there is a big difference."

His smile wavered but carried on talking to Mr Weasley. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," Mr Weasley said tensely before checking his watch once again. "Yes, it's a minute off… We'd better get ready…." He looked around at Ila and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do —"

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

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

It happened immediately: Ila felt as though a hook just behind her navel jerk forward. Her feet left the ground; she felt Ron and Hermione next to her, an arm holding onto each of her shoulders; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically and then —

Ila looked up. Her feet slammed into the ground; Ron staggered into her and fell on top of her, with Hermione soon following and dropping beside Ila; the Portkey hit the ground near Hermione's head with a heavy thud. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

Cedric looked around and rushed over to Ila, holding out a hand to her.

"Need some help?"