Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's except for Jamie, Luka, and Ariana.
Chapter 4- The Portkey
The mug of hot cocoa had long since gone cold in my hands. The clock on the living room wall was the loudest thing in the house at the moment. Mr. Weasley is busy frantically pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace waiting for a call, and Mrs. Weasley is sitting on the couch next to me with her arm wrapped firmly around my shoulders.
I can't believe that this is happening. I can't believe that my rule-abiding brother has actually run away. Guilt eats me up from inside at the reminder that we had fought yesterday. I didn't think that he was this truly unhappy. It has always been just the two of us against the world. If anything I was the one who should have gone with him as well.
This was the first time that we had made a major decision without the other when at home. I wince at the reminder that we truly don't have a home anymore. We're just borrowing this one until Kingsley has the time to care for us more. "That boy… I don't know what's going on with him." Mr. Weasley says finally after a few more minutes of silence.
Mrs. Weasley and I look up at him, being the only two in the room with him. Bill had long since been sent to sleep. There is no need for him to be more exhausted then he has to be for tomorrow. Mrs. Weasley had attempted to get me to go back to sleep as well, but I am wide awake now, and will not rest easy until my brother comes back.
Besides the amount of times that I have had a sleepless night at school and then went to class the next day is impressive. "Arthur its hard to adjust…" Mrs. Weasley tells him.
"I know that Molly but we have gone over the situation with him countless times, and Kingsley has made a few visits over here this summer when he has had the time! This situations isn't easy for everyone, and has no need to go disappearing from the house." Mr. Weasley says sounding very upset. I'm rather surprised since Mrs. Weasley is usually the one to react strongly out of the pair of them.
"It was because of our fight." I say softly. The two adults turn their attention to me.
"No Jamie this wasn't your fault. Luka makes his own decisions not you." Mr. Weasley tells me.
"You're both growing up, life becomes less black and white and more shades of gray. I'm not going to lie Jamie, life has not been easy for you and your brother, and growing up comes with its challenges, but I believe that you two will be able pull through it stronger than ever. At the end of the day Jamie, Luka is still your brother and you two will be beside each other in the long run." Mrs. Weasley says.
I bite my lower lip, and try to stop the tears that want to come from falling. Mrs. Weasley pulls me into her side further. "You will always have us Jamie dear. Never forget that." She whispers pressing a kiss into my hair on the side of my head.
Before anything else can be said the fire flares from behind Mr. Weasley and a face can be seen in the flames. I recognize Kingsley after a few seconds. "Arthur." Kingsley says in way of greeting.
"Kingsley do you have him?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ask fretfully at the exact same time. Kingsley looks behind him in the fire, and then turns back to us.
"Yes he Arthur, Molly. Luka here used floo powder to get to the Ministry… he managed to talk his way to the aurors office to see me. He was lucky that I was in, a half hour later and I would have been on my way to France." Kingsley says. The three of us let out a relieved breath of air on hearing that Luka is safe.
"Thank Merlin." I mutter tuning out the Weasleys' relived cries for a few moments.
"Look Molly, Arthur, I'm going to keep Luka with me tonight. There are some things that we need to talk about. I understand that you're going to the World Cup Match tomorrow, and I will return him to you bright and early tomorrow." Kingsley says.
"Yes, that will be fine." Mr. Weasley tells him.
"Thank you so much Kingsley for finding him and keeping him safe." Mrs. Weasley says tearfully. Before they can disconnect the call I put my mug on the table, and step in front of the fire. Kingsley's gaze focuses on me.
"Luka's okay right Kingsley? I-I mean he's not hurt or anything right?" I ask him gripping my hands on my pajama bottoms.
"He'll be fine Jamie. Your brother will be back home tomorrow morning. You look tired Jame, I think its time for you to go back to bed." He tells me softly. I bite my lip hard, but allow Mr. Weasley to pull me to my feet, and hand me off to Mrs. Weasley.
"Bye Kingsley." I tell him emotion wavering in my voice. Mrs. Weasley ushers me up the stairs and back into my room, where she helps me navigate the ladder to my bed in the dark. I crawl under the covers, and burry my face into my pillow.
"Everything will be fine Jamie. I'll see you shortly in the morning." She tells me, before turning around and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. I let out a long shaky breath, and close my eyes. Growing up sucks.
What feels like ten minutes later, the light is turned on in the room, and Mrs. Weasley's voice is heard from the doorway. "Rise and shine girls. Time to get up and at 'em." She says going to the camp bed and shaking Hermione for sleep before coming to me.
She shakes me as well, and as soon as I open my eyes she moves on to waking up Ginny who is always a bear when she wakes up really early in the morning. Trust me, I tried it one time and I almost lost my hand for the trouble. It is still dark outside.
"'S' time already?" says Ginny groggily. We dress in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, the three of us head downstairs into the kitchen. When we arrive there I'm instantly awoken by the slumped figure of my brother sitting at the kitchen table.
Mrs. Weasley is stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr. Weasley is sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. Luka sits up as he sees us come into the kitchen. His eyes lock onto mine instantly. I can tell by the earnest gaze that he wants to talk.
He flicks his gaze to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley uncertainly. Mr. Weasley is looking up from the tickets to us. He nods his head slightly in the direction of the living room, and we take it. As soon as we're far enough away for a modicum of privacy my brother turns to me.
We stare at each other in silence for a few seconds. I can feel the eyes from everyone in the kitchen on us. "Look Jamie I'm really sorry about yesterday. I-I shouldn't have said some of those things to you. I-I do know that you care about our family. Merlin, you do half the crazy ass things that you do for family." Luka tells me.
I release my lower lip from its hold. Man do I have to stop doing that. "Luka…" I start but he holds up his hand to let him finish.
"Kingsley talked with me last night for a while, and he told me a lot about what happened between the two of you. He explained everything that I didn't know before, and about how he stills loves you, and about how you love him. Family fights… I know that, and sometimes… family just can't be together." He says.
I stare at him for a few moments. "Luka you're not the only one that needs to apologize. I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't care anymore. In fact I do care, I care so much that sometimes it hurts to breathe, but havin you, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione make it bearable. I will never be alone, and this is thanks to you and those people in the kitchen." I tell him.
"As long as the two of us are together and on the same page, we'll make it through brother, I promise you that." I tell him starting to choke on the emotion that I'm feeling. Luka grins at me sadly, and embraces me in a crushing hug. I hold tightly to my brother. We're going to be okay. It's going to take some time but I believe that we'll make it.
We break apart and I look at my brother a second before rearing back and punching him hard in the arm. "OW! What was that for?" Luka cries.
"That was for making me worried last night, and taking away time that I could have been asleep!" I glare at him turning around and stalking back into the kitchen. Feeling justified and pleased with my punch.
As the boys file into the kitchen I take a closer look at what Mr. Weasley is actually wearing. He is wearing what appears to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.
"What d'you think?" he asks anxiously. "We're supposed to go incognito — do I look like a Muggle, Harry?"
"Yeah," says Harry, smiling, "very good."
"Where're Bill and Charlie and Per-Per-Percy?" says George, failing to stifle a huge yawn. Luka is sitting beside me and whispering about what his punishment is exactly. He can still go to the match but he has to stay at Mr. Weasley's side the entire time, and when we get back the burrow he's grounded for a month starting then. That sucks for his grounding is definitely going to carry over into winter break, or the next time that we come back here for break.
"Well, they're Apparating, aren't they?" says Mrs. Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."
"So they're still in bed?" says Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge towards him. "Why can't we Apparate too?"
"Because you're not of age and you haven't passed your test," snaps Mrs. Weasley. I can see that she's still upset with them from yesterday. Truthfully I wonder if Mrs. Weasley isn't just perpetually angry with Fred and George.
"You have to pass a test to Apparate?" Harry asks. Sometimes I forget that Harry doesn't know everything about the wizarding world still. Maybe Hermione can get him a book on that for Christmas.
"Oh yes," says Mr. Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. "The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a license. It's not easy, Apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and Splinched themselves."
Everyone around the table except Harry winces. That is not something that I ever want happening to me.
"Er — Splinched?" asks Harry.
"They left half of themselves behind," says Mr. Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. "So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind. . . ."
I blanch at the thought and stare down at my breakfast suddenly losing my appetite. "Were they okay?" Harry asks, startled.
"Oh yes," says Mr. Weasley matter-of-factly. "But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer brooms — slower, but safer."
"But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?" Harry questions again.
"Charlie had to take the test twice," says Fred, grinning. "He failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?"
Okay now that is hilarious! I snort into my pumpkin juice at hearing that. I am so going to remember that in case I need blackmail material.
"Yes, well, he passed the second time," says Mrs. Weasley.
"Percy only passed two weeks ago," says George. "He's been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can." What an annoying git he is doing so. He popped up right behind me, and made my porridge fly in the air, luckily hitting him though, and not me.
"Remind me again why we have to be up so early?" Ginny asks sleepily rubbing at her eyes. I grab a piece of toast and hand put it on her plate to make sure that she's eating.
"We've got a bit of a walk," says Mr. Weasley.
"Walk?" I cry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?" I am so not doing that.
"No, no, that's miles away," says Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup —"
"George!" says Mrs. Weasley sharply, and we all jump. This can't be good.
"What?" says George, in an innocent tone that deceives nobody.
"What is that in your pocket?"
"Nothing!"
"Don't you lie to me!"
Mrs. Weasley points her wand at George's pocket and says, "Accio!" Several small, brightly colored objects zoom out of George's pocket; he makes a grab for them but misses, and they speed right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.
"We told you to destroy them!" cries Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what are unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"
And there goes a lot of hard work and most of my summer down the drain. It is an unpleasant scene; the twins were evidently trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it is only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley manages to find them all.
"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouts, and toffees zoom from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.
"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouts at his mother as she throws the toffees away.
"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieks. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"
Luka and I share a glance with each other. This is really different from what we are used to.
All in all, the atmosphere is not very friendly as we take our departure. Mrs. Weasley is still glowering as she kisses Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who have each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walk out without a word to her.
"Well, have a lovely time," says Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley says to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luka, and I set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.
My brother is walking directly beside Mr. Weasley I notice keeping strict to the new rule set forth on him. I keep a nice pace with Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. There's no need to talk to the twins when they're in a malevolent mood. Even I am not safe from them then.
It is chilly and the moon is still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right shows that daybreak is drawing closer. Harry, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding toward the Quidditch World Cup, speeds up to walk with Mr. Weasley and we come along with him having nothing better to do.
"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" he asks.
"It's been a massive organizational problem," sighs Mr. Weasley. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand."
"A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains — remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."
Wow, I didn't know that all of that went into planning the logistics to even get to the World Cup. Mr. Weasley points ahead of us, where a large black mass rises beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Okay so we do have quite a walk to complete.
Ginny starts lagging behind claiming the defense of still being half asleep, so I grab her hand to drag her along with me, so she doesn't get left behind. Ginny loves Quidditch just as much as I do if not more, so there's no way that I'm going to let her be left behind to miss this.
We trudge down the dark, dank lane towards the village, the silence breaks only by our footsteps. The sky lightens very slowly as we make our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. My hands and feet are freezing except from where I'm holding onto Ginny. Mr. Weasley keeps checking his watch.
We don't have breath to spare for talking as we begin to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath I take is sharp in my chest and my legs are starting to seize up when, at last, my feet find level ground. Merlin, and I thought that I was in shape!
"Whew," pants Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time — we've got ten minutes. . . ."
Hermione comes over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. "Now we just need the Portkey," says Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big. . . . Come on . . ." We spread out, searching. We have only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout goes into the still air.
"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"
Two tall figures and one smaller figure are silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.
"Amos!" says Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strides over to the man who has shouted. The rest of us follow.
Mr. Weasley is shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who is holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. Well that's just a great Portkey, not!
"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," says Mr. Weasley. My eyes widen though when I see the third person standing there. The very familiar of the fiery blond haired Dumbledore greets me. She has a huge blazing grin on her face, her brown eyes twinkle through her nice summer tan. I swear all Dumbledores have twinkling eyes.
"He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?" Mr. Weasley continues the introductions.
Cedric Diggory is an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He is Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. My fellow Chasers Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell seem to have a thing for him, though I don't get what its all about.
"Hi," says Cedric, looking around at them all. Everybody says hi back except Fred and George, who merely nod. They have never quite forgiven Cedric for beating our team, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.
I didn't like it either, but there was nothing to be done. "And I think you all know Ariana Dumbledore." Mr. Weasley finishes. Ariana practically bounces on her way over to my brother crushing him in an elated hug, then to me. She squeezes me so tight that I think that I now have a cracked rib or two.
"I'm so happy to see you all again! Its been far too long! Promise me that we'll never go this long again Pendragon, just because you don't live with Kingsley anymore that does not mean that you get to forget all about me." Ariana says mock threateningly to Luka and me.
"Truthfully Ariana I don't think that could ever happen…er the forgetting about you part." I stutter not quite so sure what has me thrown off about her. There is just something that's changed about her, and I don't know what it is. She grins at me and pulls me into another tight hug. Ever since becoming friends with her she's been extremely touchy feely with me.
I'm not exactly against it, but it's just different for me. Hermione has been the only other girl to really do that to me before, and now I guess there's Ginny as well. All the rest of my friends happen to be guys. "That's sweet of you Jame. But that reminds me…" Ariana says switching tactics, and socks my brother hard in the same arm that I had earlier.
"I heard about you're escape act last night Pendragon. What kind of boneheaded idea was that? You could have gotten yourself killed." Ariana growls at my brother leveling him with a truly scary glare. I'm glad that I haven't been on the other side of that glare in a while for, I will have to admit, Ariana Dumbledore is one of the scariest people that I know when angry, right up there behind Mrs. Weasley.
"OW! What is it with you girls today, I happen to bruise easily you know…" Luka cries rubbing at his sore arm and pouting at us.
"Well I can't help it if you happen to have the constitution of a pixie! Oh wait sorry, that's an insult to pixies everywhere!" I jab playfully. Luka glares at me crossly, and moves back over to Mr. Weasley who had been giving him a trying look. I turn my attention back onto Ariana.
"So what brings you here and with the Diggorys?" I ask her confused about this new development.
"Well I happen to be friends with Cedric, long story, and Grandfather dropped me off at their house this morning so that I could attend the World Cup Match with them! I'm highly looking forward to the game, and it looks like we can hang out while there as well!" She tells me with a smile. I smile back at her as well.
When I look over at my friends I find Hermione staring at Ariana and me with an odd look on her face. I raise my eyebrow at her, and my best friend merely blushes, and turns around.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asks.
"Not too bad," says Mr. Weasley. "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, looks like I got off easy. . . ." Amos Diggory peers good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Luka, and me. "All these yours, Arthur?"
"Oh no, only the redheads and Jamie and Luka here, Molly and I are now their guardians," says Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children and us. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's — and Harry, another friend —"
"Merlin's beard," says Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Er — yeah," says Harry. I wince in sympathy for my friend. It really must get tiresome having people react that way to you all the time. Like I said my brother and I grew up famous and everyone already knows about us.
"Ced's talked about you, of course," says Amos Diggory. "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 Harry Potter!"
Harry can't seem to think of any reply to this, so he remains silent. Fred and George are both scowling again. Cedric looks slightly embarrassed.
"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he mutters. "I told you . . . it was an accident. . . ."
"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roars Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"
"Must be nearly time," says Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again attempting to change the subject. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"
"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," says Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," says Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off. . . . We'd better get ready. . . ." He looks around at Harry and Hermione.
"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do —" With difficulty, owing to our bulky backpacks, the twelve of us crowd around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.
We all stand there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze sweeps over the hilltop. Nobody speaks. It suddenly occurs to me how odd this would look if a Muggle was to walk up here now . . . twleve people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. . . .
I can't help but let a chuckle out at that thought. "Three . . ." mutters Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two . . . one . . ."
It happens immediately: I feel as though a hook just behind my navel has been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. My feet leave the ground; I can feel Ginny and Ariana on either side of me, their shoulders banging into mine; we are all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; my forefinger is stuck to the boot as though it is pulling me magnetically onward and then —
My feet slam into the ground; Ariana staggers into me and she falls on top of me; the Portkey hits the ground near her head with a heavy thud. Ow…
I look up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric are still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else is on the ground. That was a terrible ride. I can hear the sounds of Luka vomiting off a little ways.
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," says a voice.
"I hate travel by Portkey." I groan letting myself collapse back to the ground. Ariana chuckles from on top of me, before finally deciding to roll off. "Well at least we made it."