AUTHORS NOTE :P

Hello! Here is the next chapter! Hope everyone likes it :)

Thanks for all the reviews about my broken fingers. There a bit better now, but it'll be another while before I can actually use them properly, so typing is still a bit awkward and sore, but nothing will stop me from writing this story!

Now to answer some reviews...

AnikaandAj: I would love to do Taekwondo, or Karate or any martial arts!

Arkell26: thanks :) but we lost the semi-final at school... we were playing the team that won the league last year, so really we shouldn't of been playing them, but oh well! I've still got my local club!

florafan199914: no, only Iggy and Hermione are Muggle-born. I guess I should of said that earlier... But they're the only Muggle-borns. You'll find out about the others later on in the series :D

Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and the cookies and butterbeer!

-Rach ;)

Max's POV

We were woken by Mr Weasley after only a few hours sleep. He used magic to pack everything away quickly, and to take down the tent and we left the campsite as fast as possible, passing Mr Roberts on the way out at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts looked very dazed, and mumbled "Merry Christmas," to us when we walked passed him.

"Is he going to be okay?" Ginny asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Mr Weasley said quietly as we marched across the moor. "Sometimes when a persons memory is modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while...and that was a bit memory they made him forget."

We heard loud, urgent voices as we approached the area where the Portkeys were, and when we reached it we saw a large number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, all desperate to get away as fast as possible. Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; we joined the queue and we were able to take an old tire back to Stoatshed Hill before the sun had fully risen.

I was walking around like a zombie, yawning every few minutes. No one should have to wake up this early. It was terrible. I pulled my long hair back into a messy bun before taking hold of the Portkey.

We walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow. None of us were talking that much, even Nudge was remaining silent, because we were all so exhausted and hungry. As we turned the corner and the Burrow came into view, we heard a relieved cry.

"Oh, thank God! Thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley, who had been waiting for us in the front garden, came running towards us in her slippers, her face pale and strained, a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched tightly in her hand.

"Arthur- I've been so worried-"

She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet feel to the ground. Looking down at it, I read the headline: SCENE OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a picture of the Dark Mark in the sky.

"You're alright," Mrs Weasley muttered, letting go of Mr Weasley and hugging her sons and daughter with tears in her eyes. "You're alive..."

Then, to everyone's surprise, she pulled Fred and George into back-breaking hugs.

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

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley sobbed, "It's all I was thinking about. What if You-Know-Who had gotten you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L's. Oh, Fred, George."

"Come on, now Molly, we're all fine," Mr Weasley said soothingly, prying her away from the twins and leading her back to the house. "Bill," he said, looking over his shoulder, "Pick up that paper. I want to read it."

When we were all crammed into the small kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs Weasley a cup of strong coffee, into which Mr Weasley added a small bit of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, Bill gave his father the newspaper. Mr Weasley scanned the front page while Percy read it over his shoulder.

"I knew it," Mr Weasley sighed heavily, "Ministry blunders...culprits not apprehended. Lax security...Dark Wizards running unchecked...national disgrace...Who wrote this? Ah...Of course, Rita Skeeter."

"That woman has it in for the Ministry of Magic!" Percy said furiously. "Last week she was saying we were wasting our time about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve for the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans-"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up." We all snickered.

"I'm mentioned," Mr Weasley said, his eyes wide.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs Weasley. "If I saw that, I would of known you were all alive!"

"I'm not mentioned by name," Mr Weasley said, "Listen: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry ofMagic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but reflising to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh, really, no one was hurt! What was I meant to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods...well, there certainly will be rumors now after she wrote that."

He sighed deeply. "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," Percy said importantly, "Mr Crouch will need everyone there today, you know, all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs Weasley looked very upset. "Surely this doesn't concern you! You're on holiday! This hasn't anything to do with your office!"

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

"Mrs Weasley," Harry said suddenly, "Hedwig hasn't come with a letter for me, has she?"

"No dear she hasn't," Mrs Weasley said, watching as her husband climbed the stairs. "There hasn't been any post at all."

I looked at him suspiciously, so did Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the flock. Sensing our looks, Harry said, "Alright if I dump my stuff in your room Ron?"

"Of course," Ron said, looking confused. Getting what Harry was trying to do, I said, "Yeah, we should all put our stuff away. Come on, Angel." We gabbed our bags and walked up the stairs. On the way to Ron's attic room, we put our things in our rooms as we passed them. Once Ron's bedroom door was closed, he asked, "What's up, Harry?"

"There's something I haven't told you guys," Harry said, casting a weary glance at Nudge, Gazzy and Angel. "Whatever you can tell them, you can tell us," Nudge said at once, seeing Harry's look as well.

"I know, Nudge," Harry said, smiling apologetically. "So, what didn't you tell us?" I asked.

"On Saturday morning, I woke up and my scar was hurting again."

There was a moments silence. Harry got his lightening shaped scar on his forehead when Voldemort failed to kill him. Generally, when it hurt him, it meant something bad and dangerous was close, or even Voldemort himself.

Hermione was the first to break the spell. She covered her mouth with her hands, but she was still making suggestions to read things in books I've never heard of, and talking to Dumbledore (the Headmaster of Hogwarts, who was old but awesome) and even the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey. Fang looked like he was thinking, Ron and Iggy looked thunderstruck, and Nudge and Angel looked frightened. Gazzy just looked confused.

"But he wasn't there, was he?" he asked, "Voldemort? Last time your scar hurt, he was at Hogwarts wasn't he?" Harry looked startled that the Gasman knew this, but then realized that I probably told him, along with the rest of the flock, everything.

"I'm sure he wasn't at Privet Drive," Harry said reassuringly, "But I was dreaming about him. Him and Peter- you know, Wormtail. I can't remember everything, but they were planning to kill...someone." I stared at Harry, noticing the way he hesitated, as if he was going to say something else. Beside me, Angel stifled a gasp, but after a look from Harry, she stayed quiet. You see, Angel could read minds so she probably knew what Harry was about to say before he changed his mind. I decided to question them on it later.

"It was only a dream," Ron said, "Just a nightmare." But he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Harry.

"Yeah, but was it though?" Harry said, turning to look out the window. "It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and a few days later, Voldemort's sign is up in the sky and Death Eaters are marching around."

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

Harry ignored him, and turned to look at me. "Remember what Professor Trelawney said last year?" Professor Trelawney was the Divination teacher at Hogwarts. Hermione's terrified expression changed as she let out a loud snort. "Oh, Harry, you aren't going to believe what that old fraud says?"

"You weren't there, Hermione," I said, "You didn't hear her. It was freaky. We told you, she went into a kind of trance, and didn't remember anything she said. She said the Dark Lord would rise again."

"Greater and more terrible than before, with his most faithful servant at his side," Harry continued, "And that night, Wormtail escaped."

There was silence while Ron fidgeted with his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

"Why did you ask if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Nudge asked, "Are you expecting a letter?"

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

When Harry mentioned my father, I absentmindedly put my hand in my jeans pocket, where there was a picture of Sirius and my mother Grace.

"Good thinking!" Iggy said, " I bet Sirius would know what to do!"

"I just hope he'd write back quickly," Harry said.

"Fat chance of that happening," I said, "I sent him a letter a few days after getting back from the School, and he hasn't written back yet."

"Yeah, but we don't know where he is," Fang said, "He could be in Africa or somewhere. Hedwig or Freedom wouldn't be able to make that journey very fast."

"Yeah I know," Harry said, still staring out the window.

"We should have a game of Quidditch in the orchard," Ron suggested, "Bill, Charlie, Fred and George will play."

"Ron, Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now. He's worried and tired," Hermione said in a I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive voice. "We should all go to bed."

"No," Harry said, "I want to play Quidditch."Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

We all walked out of Ron's room, excited about playing Quidditch, and the flock looking forward to spreading our wings. Hermione rolled her eyes, and muttered, "Ridiculous."

Neither Mr Weasley or Percy were home much that week (thank God for the latter). They both left the house very early in the morning before anyone else was awake, and returned well after dinner every night. "It's been an uproar," Percy told us importantly on the Sunday before we were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People are continuously sending in Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler, they explode."

Iggy and the Gasman looked at each other and grinned. Oh good Lord, they were planning on blowing something else up. Good job, Percy.

"Why are they sending Howlers?" Ginny asked, sticking Spellotape on her book One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi which was starting to fall apart.

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

Mrs Weasley looked at the clock on the wall. I liked the clock, even though it was useless if you wanted to know the time. It had fifteen golden hands, each one engraved with the names of all the Weasley's, and added recently were the names of the flock. There weren't any numbers, but descriptions of where each person might be. "Home" "School" and "Work" were on it, but also, "lost," "Travelling," "Hospital," "prison," and, "Mortal peril."

Fourteen of the hands were pointed at "Home,", but Mr Weasley's, which was the longest, was pointing at "Work."

"Your father hasn't been in the office at weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs Weasley said, " They're working him far too hard, and his dinner will be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father believes he has to make up for his mistake at the match," Percy said, "If truth be told, he was quite 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 horrible Skeeter woman wrote!" Mrs Weasley snapped as I started banging my head on the table. Why couldn't it be tomorrow already, where I can get away from Percy?

"If Dad didn't say anything, then Skeeter would of said it was terrible and disgraceful that no one from the Ministry said anything," Bill said, who was playing chess with Ron, and loosing terribly.

"Rita Skeeter makes everyone look bad," Bill went on, "Remember when she interviewed all the Gringott's Charm Breakers, and called me a `long haired pillock'?"

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

"No, Mum," Bill said patiently frowning as Ron made a rather complicated move.

Rain was hitting against the windows. Hermione was buried in her new copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, the copies that Mrs Weasley bought for her, and the rest of us in Diagon Alley, Charlie was cleaning a fireproof balaclava, Harry was polishing his Firebolt, Iggy was finishing some last minute homework, Fang was helping him, and the Gasman and Angel were watching them, learning about some of the things they'd be learning in a few years. Nudge was picking out what clothes to bring with her to Hogwarts, and I was helping Mrs Weasley clean up. Fred and George, however, were sitting in the far corner, quills out, talking in whispers and their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you two up to?" Mrs Weasley called, looking at the twins.

"Homework," Fred said.

"Don't be ridiculous. You should of had you're summer homework done ages ago," Mrs Weasley said. She didn't see Iggy raise his head and glare at her.

"We left it a bit late," George said, not looking up from the parchment.

"You're not by any chance writing a new order form, are you?" Mrs Weasley asked sternly. I looked over my shoulder at the twins and smirked. Oh, they were in so much trouble now. "You're not thinking about restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now Mum," Fred said, his face the image of innocence as he looked at her, "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel knowing that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs Weasley. "They have you there Mrs Weasley," I chuckled. Mrs Weasley laughed more.

"Oh, your father is on his way!" Mrs Weasley said, looking at the clock again. Mr Weasley's hand had just moved to "travelling" and a second later, it spun around to "home", and we heard Mr Weasley calling from the kitchen.

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

"Well, the fats really in the fire now," Mr Weasley told the room as he sat down in the armchair near the hearth and toyed with his dinner. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess ups to write about. And now she's figured out about poor Bertha going missing, so that'll be in the headlines in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her weeks ago."

"Mr Crouch has been saying the same thing for weeks and weeks," Percy said, puffing out his chest.

"Crouch is lucky that Skeeter hasn't found out abotu Winky," Mr Weasley said irritably. "There'd be weeks worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught carrying the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

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

"If you ask me, Crouch is lucky the Prophet never found out how mean and cruel he is to his elves!" Hermione said, looking over the top of her book, her eyes shining.

"Now look here, Hermione," Percy said, and I really just wanted to punch him, "A high-ranking Ministry official such as Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants-"

"You mean slaves!" Nudge said, "House-elves don't get payed, do they?" I smiled proudly at her for standing up for what she believes in, and her dark skin flushed happily.

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check if you're all packed properly for tomorrow!" Mrs Weasley said, breaking up the argument just as Percy was about to say something, "Come on, all of you."

I finished putting away the plates and glasses and climbed up to my bedroom, where Hermione was putting away some last minute things. I started unwrapping the things Mrs Weasley bought us in Diagon Alley. I put the books, quills, ink and potion ingredients in my school bag, and my new robes, jumpers, jeans and uniform into my big trunk.

After all my things were packed away, I looked at the huge empty cage resting on my window sill. It's been weeks since I sent the letter to Sirius, asking about the Eraser, but Freedom hasn't returned.

"I'm sure he's fine," Hermione said, seeing where I was looking. "Freedom is a strong owl. He's be back soon."

"I know," I said, "But it's been ages, and normally Sirius would write back really fast."

"Why are you so worried about this letter?" Hermione asked. I sat on my bed, and she sat beside me.

I quickly explained about the picture, and the Eraser, and how I thought the Eraser could be my brother. Hermione gasped, and covered her mouth with her hands. "You're joking," she said, her eyes wide. I shook my head, feeling lost and confused. We were both quiet for a minute, then Hermione said, "The only thing you can do is wait for Sirius' reply."

"I know," I said.

"Let's go check on the boys, and see if their actually packing," Hermione said, taking my arm and pulling me up. But just before we could leave my room, we heard Angel screaming from her room down the hall. "Angel!" I called, and pulled open my bedroom door and ran to Angel's room, Hermione behind me. The door was open and Angel was leaning over her bed, holding onto something.

"Angel, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Look!" Angel said, shoving something into my hands. It was a bear.

"You screamed because of a bear?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at the innocent five-year old. . "Yeah, but look at it!" Angel said, bouncing up and down. Now that I knew she wasn't hurt, I had calmed down. I looked at the teddy bear closely and understood why Angel had screamed.

It was a white fluffy angel bear, with white wings, a halo, and a white dress. It was Angel.

"Where did you get this?" I asked, handing her back the bear.

"Mrs Weasley bought it for me in Diagon Alley," Angel said, cuddling the teddy bear to her chest. "Are you sure?" I asked. Last time I found something in my room I didn't buy myself, I ended up trying to kill some of my best friends.

"Yup, she just gave it to me there, but she had to get things ready for tomorrow, so she left again," Angel explained, playing with the angel bears dress. "I'm going to call her Celeste," Angel announced, bouncing up and down with excitement. Then she yawned, and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Sweetie, maybe it's time for you to go to bed," I said.

Angel nodded. "Can you help me?" she asked, pointing to her night clothes. "Of course."

I helped Angel get dressed, then tucked her into bed. She snuggled up with Celeste, smiling happily. "Goodnight, honey," I said, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, Angel," Hermione said. I remembered about that time in Ron's room, where she read Harry's mind, but knew now wasn't the right time to ask her about it.

"Goodnight guys," Angel mumbled, then feel asleep straight away.

I closed the door quietly behind me, and let out a relieved breath. "Jeez, I thought something happened to her," I said, my face in my hands. "She's fine, Max. Let's go up to the boys. I bet they haven't even started packing!" Hermione said. Together we walked up to Ron's room, where the boys have dubbed their hangout. We walked in just as Ron was saying, "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

He was holding up something that looked like a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill on the collar and matching cuffs. As soon as I saw it, I started laughing. I was laughing so hard that I feel down onto Ron's bed, holding my stomach and gasping for breath. "Is-that-yours?" I panted out.

"It could be Ginny's, or Nudge's..." Ron said.

"If Nudge has to wear that for anything, shes going to drop dead," I said, getting my breath back.

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs Weasley came in, carrying freshly laundered Hogwarts uniforms. Ours had been washed this morning.

"Here you are," she said, spreading them into four piles, "Now mind that you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress," Ron said, handing the disgusting thing to his mother.

"Of course I haven't," Mrs Weasley said, scowling, "There yours. Dress robes."

"What?" Ron said, horror-struck as I started laughing again.

"Dress robes!" Mrs Weasley said, "It says on your school list that you need dress robes this year. Robes for formal occasions for boys, and dresses for girls."

"Where are our dresses?" Hermione asked.

"I'll be sending yours later in the year," Mrs Weasley said, smirking.

"There is no way I'm wearing this!" Ron said, "No way!"

"You have to, Ron, everyone wears them!" Mrs Weasley said crossly. "Your father has some for smart parties."

"I'll go starkers before I put them on," Ron said stubbornly. "Don't be silly," Mrs Weasley said, "You've got to have dress robes. They're on your list! I got some for Harry, Fang and Iggy too! Go on, show him."

Hesitantly, the three boys opened the parcels Mrs Weasley handed them. But their wasn't as bad as Ron's; Harry's were bottle green; Fang's were fully black; Iggy's was a dark blue.

"I thought they would all suite you very well," Mrs Weasley said, smiling.

"Well, them ones are okay!" Ron said, looking at the others robes. "Why couldn't I get some like that?"

"Because...well, I had to get yours second-hand, and there wasn't much choice!" Mrs Weasley said, blushing. I looked away, and saw Harry doing the same. I knew that Harry had a large amount of money his parents left him in Gringott's, and I knew that he would willingly give most of it to the Weasley's. But we both knew they would never take it.

"I'm never wearing them," Ron said, shaking his head, "Never."

"Fine. Go naked then," Mrs Weasley said. She looked at the rest of us and said, "And make sure to get a good picture of him. Goodness knows I could use a laugh."

She left Ron's room, slamming the door behind her. There was a spluttering noise from behind us, and we turned to see Pig chocking on an overlarge owl treat.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" Ron asked moodily as he strode over to Pig's cage to unstick Pig's beak.

Hello! I'm really sorry this took so long! So busy with school and sports and stuff. And updating will be slower from now on because we have summer tests at the end of the month, and I need to study and our teachers will probably be laying on the homework... but i've got the summer!

The next chapter will be much better! I promise!

You all know by now that when you review, you get cookies and butterbeer, so...

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

LoVe YoU! :*

-Rach ;)