The Alexander Chronicles Year 4: The Return of Darkness.

Chapter 9: The Aftermath

Mr. Weasley woke everyone after only a few hours' sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible. Now there was a daylight Alex could see the damage of the night´s attack much clearer. Torches had been lit, there was bunt tents everywhere, and there was trees that had been ripped up. It looked like a warzone.

Alex and the others wasn´t the only ones who were eager to get away. Everyone were packing with a worried face, others and simply left their tents either because they were damaged or because they just wanted home.

Finally, they passed Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Happy Christmas."

"He'll be all right," Mr. Weasley said quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while… and that was a big thing they had to make him forget." However Alex didn´t really cared. It was just as he thought; a memory charm would make him all happy.

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found that there already was great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue. As he stood there Alex saw Tracey, Daphne and her family take a Portkey and vanish.

Then after some minutes, The Weasley family plus Alex, Harry and Hermione were able to take an old rubber tyre back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded, the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Alex saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive… Oh boys…" And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"

"Mum - can't breathe -"

"I shouted at you two before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred… George..."

Alex discreetly bent down and picked up the paper and flipped through the pages, it wasn´t really saying much that he didn´t already knew. It was of course also criticizing the Ministry for the lack of security.

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," Mr. Weasley said soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Alexander," he added in an undertone, "if you are done then hand me that paper. I want to see what it says."

Alex nodded and immediately handed Mr. Weasley the paper.

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, and looked at the Prophet.

"I knew it," Mr. Weasley said heavily. "Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace… Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy hissed furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires!"

"There are a million things more important than cauldron thickness," Ron muttered.

"As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"

"Do us a favour, Perce," Bill, yawned, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," Mr. Weasley said, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," Mr. Weasley said slowly as he read. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the woods expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refused to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," Mr. Weasley said in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say?"

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off…"

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry suddenly said, it sounded like he had wanted to ask something ever since they had come. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" Mrs. Weasley said distractedly. "No… no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Alex looked curiously at Harry wondering who would send him a letter. He had a good idea who it could be, but he wanted it to hear it from him.

With a meaningful look at him, Ron and Hermione, Harry spoke up, "All right I think I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah… think I will too," said Ron at once. "Hermione?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "Coming, Alex?"

"Sure," Alex said with a nod and stood up. The four of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron said, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Ron simply looked dumbstruck. Alex leaned back at the wall as he watched Ron and Hermione´s reactions, while keeping natural expression himself. Harry had told him that his scar had hurt before. It had happened at Harry´s first year at Hogwarts where Voldemort had been at Hogwarts processing at teacher named Quirrell. Could Voldemort had been at Privet Drive?

"But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scars kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?" Ron ranted.

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," Harry said. "But I was dreaming about him… him and Peter - you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now - but they were plotting to kill… someone."

Alex looked at Harry, as he was pretty sure that someone was Harry himself. But could Harry really dream about Voldemort´s plans? Sure he had a connection to him, but this was something new.

"It was probably only a dream," said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it…? My scar hurt and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't - say - his - name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"Oh please you are such a coward," Alex said in an annoyed tone. "It's just a stupid name!"

Ron responded by giving Alex a dirty look, "why don´t you just shut up Bonteri. I don´t recall that we asked you."

Alex returned Ron´s stare, "Like I need your permission, but if you are dumb enough to brush this off as a coincidence, then you are too stupid."

"Shut up for a second both of you." Harry hissed, "Don´t you remember what Professor Trelawney said at the end of my exam?"

Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. Alex knew that Hermione´s faith in their Divination teacher was non-existent. "Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?"

"You weren't there," Harry pointed out. "You didn't hear her. Yeah, I told you, she went into a trance - a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again… greater and more terrible than ever before… and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him… and that night Wormtail escaped."

There was a silence, in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," Harry said shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer."

Alex looked away, as Ron gave thumbs up. "Good idea, I bet he will know."

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.

"But we don't know where Sirius is… he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" Hermione said reasonably. "Hedwig's not going to manage that journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," Harry, said, looking at Alex, as he were asking him to tell to Ron and Hermione that Sirius was in the country however Alex shocked his head.

"Look Harry." he said shortly, while crossing his arms. "I am sure that Sirius will be fine. He is on the run, so he properly just waiting for the right moment."

Harry nodded, but still had a worried look on his face, he sighed as he looked out the window.

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry," Ron said quickly. "Come on - three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play…"

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice. "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now…he's worried, and he's tired…we all need to go to bed beside what about-"

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

"Great Harry it will be great." Ron said as he gave Alex a mocking smirk, making it very clear that he wasn´t welcome. Alex sighed as he watched Hermione as she left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like "Boys." Harry and Ron left a few seconds later with Harry's firebolt, before he closed the door Ron gave Alex another mocking glance,

"Great, "Alex said to himself, "I wanted to play Quidditch too – then again not if the weasel is in on it." He walked over to the door as he continued, "I swear sometimes I rather deal with Nott then that idiotic fool."

As Alex stepped in to the kitchen he was surprised to hear that Mrs. Weasley was waiting for him, "You have a visitor."

"Huh?" Alex exclaimed, "Who?"

Before Mrs. Weasely could answer, Alex´s grandfather stepped in answering the question for her, "hallo Alex."

"Grandpa? I thought you were in the US?"

"I was," Fredric, said as the two of them walked into the Weasley´s living room, and sat in the couch. "Then I got news about what happened at World Cup. I wanted you to tell me about it."

Alex shrugged, "well there is not much to tell." He paused, "there was a riot some nuts Death Eaters were attacking. We all fled in to the woods. I was separated from Harry and the others. Then Daphne and I met up, and we heard some man and the dark mark was casted up in sky."

Fredric was quiet for some minutes as he looked at Alex, "you were close to him then. Did anything happen to you?"

"No not really, well they thought that I had cast it at first," at this, Fredric scowled. "Then they blamed Mr. Crouch house elf."

"That doesn´t make sense. How would a house elf know how to cast that cruse? It is only Voldemort´s Death Eaters that had been taught it."

"Yeah I know, and I don´t think they blame her anymore." Alex paused as he looked around to see if someone was near, since there wasn´t he continued in low voice, "you haven´t heard from my father have you?"

Fredric shocked his heard. "No I haven´t, but it not surprising from what he told me. He planned to go remote location."

Alex sighed, "Right, it is just that Harry sent him a letter about something. I thought he would keep an eye out, and take contact to him."

"Well even if he does, it would take time for him to get a message to you two. However I am sure he is worried about you , and he will write you soon."

"I don´t need him to write me," Alex said quickly looking at the floor. "I am fourteen. I can handle myself. It not like I want my father to hold my hand every time something happens."

"Of course you don´t, but now to the important stuff," Fredric said, "Tell me all about the Quidditch match."

Alex smiled and broke in an exciting tale about the match and how the Irish had won. After that, Fredric stayed for dinner something that Alex, but also Harry and Hermione was happy about. Hermione asked him about his company and Harry about some of duelling spells that he had thought Harry the last summer.

The following day Fredric arrived at the Burrow once again. He and Alex went to Diagon Ally in order get Alex´s School supplies, Mrs. Weasley had brought her children Harry and Hermione´s, but apparently, Fredric had called her and told her that he wanted to take him.

They quickly got Alex´s books, a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for his potion-making kit – since he had been running low on some spine of lionfish and essence of belladonna. However, Alex had been surprised when they went in to Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions in order to buy some new school robes, but according to the list Alex also had to but dress robes.

"I still don´t get why I had to get this," Alex said to his grandfather after they had gotten all of Alex´s new robes. "I mean I have some at home."

"Well I think the ones you have gotten a tiny bit too small, after all you have grown a lot."

"Yeah, but I have no need for them for now, so they will get to small as well."

"Oh," Fredric smiled, "I think you will find them useful at Hogwarts."

"Okay what it is happing at Hogwarts Grandpa?"

"Well," Fredric paused as he appeared considering to tell. "Nope can´t tell you. It is a secret."

"So what. Tell it anyway."

"It doesn´t work that way Alex. It is classified information, even if it wasn´t I wouldn't spoil your surprise."

Alex looked at his grandfather; he seemed determined to keep this thing to himself. "Just a little hint please."

Fredric smiled again, "well it will be fantastic."

…

After the shopping, Alex had spent, following week at the Weasley´s, since his grandfather would be very busy.

The week also proved to be a busy time for the Ministry of Magic, but that wasn´t really that surprising since the public blamed the Ministry from the lack of security at the World Cup. That meant that neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy had to spend most of their time at work, not that Alex really minded that Percy was gone. In fact, Alex only saw them when they left at the morning and came home at dinnertime.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly a Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" Ginny asked while she was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with a suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. Alex liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names.

There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "travelling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril. Alex wished he had one like that. It would be nice to know about his mother´s wellbeing.

Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You- Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, father must feel that he have got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first."

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum."

Alex agreed with Bill He knew about Skeeter from his mother. Skeeter had often written about the healers at Saint Mungo's Hospital, if she thought they had made a mistake, Alex hadn´t liked reading them. They were terrible lies.

Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her in Diagon Alley. Alex was also reading in his version, but also in his potions book, since there was some pretty interesting healing potions in it.

Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers; their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," George, said.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "travelling"; a second later, it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shrivelled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr. Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" Hermione said angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" Percy said. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

Alex lowered his book and looked at Hermione, paying house-elves that was new.

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you…"

Alex followed all his friends up the stairs and entered the room he was staying in. The rain sounded even louder accompanied by loud whistlings and moans from the wind. Archimedes was in his cage watching as Alex moved around the room.

"Hey, Archimedes," Alex said, moving over his owl and giving him some owl treats. Alex then moved over to his trunk and started to pack the things he had brought, beside the his school books he also made room from the extras spell books he had gotten. Mrs. Weasley had also made sure that he had clean clothes.

The last thing Alex packed was his new drees robes, "Hmm I wonder what they are for?" Alex thought as he placed them at the trunk. It wasn´t that he wasn´t used to where dress robes, in fact he had worn them on several occasions, but he never witness things getting that formal at Hogwarts.

…

Chapter end.

Sorry for the short chapter, I hope you liked it anyway. Please review, and thanks to those who those that.