It felt like I'd only just closed my eyes after getting into bed when Mum was shaking me awake.

"Bloody hell, I've only just laid down" Demelza snapped, when Mum did the same to her.

"Yeah, how's it time already?" said Hermione, yawning and stretching.

"Time flies when you're asleep" said Mum "now come on, get downstairs or you'll be late"

I checked my watch. It was 4:00

Once Mum was out of earshot, I said

"Why the fuck are we getting up at this time, the game doesn't even start till like 8pm I think"

"Maybe it's a long way away?" Hermione suggested

"Yeah but we're going by Portkey, we'll be there instantly" I replied, scowling.

We could vaguely hear a conversation about Apparition going on in the kitchen as we headed downstairs.

"Wish we could Apperate" said Demelza bitterly

"Why do we have to be up so early?" I said, rubbing my eyes and sitting down at the table.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Dad

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Dad, 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!" said Mum sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!" Mum pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mum's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mum furiously, holding up more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mum managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans. I felt pretty horrible about it, as I'd suggested a lot of those hiding places to them.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

"Mum, this is seriously unreasonable!" I yelled at her "Why do you have to be so controlling, we're our own people, not just reincarnations of you and Dad!"

"Because I can!" she said "and you'll be quiet right now if you still want to go to the World Cup!"

I rolled my eyes, and gritted my teeth, seething.

"Come on Gin" Fred said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and steering me outside with the others "she won't win, we aren't gonna stop making them. Thanks for always having our backs though"

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. I drew in line with Hermione and Demelza. I could vaguely hear Dad explaining Portkeys to Harry up ahead.

"So where exactly are we headed?" asked Hermione

"Stoatshed Hill" I told her "that's where our Portkey is"

"Why couldn't we just take one from outside the house?"

"Because we have to stagger the arrivals, and they're all placed in specific locations around Britain that the Ministry can track properly"

We trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by our footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made our way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. We didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass.

"Whew," panted Dad, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time — we've got ten minutes. . . ."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Dad, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big. . . . Come on . . ."

We spread out, searching. We had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Dad, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of us followed. Dad was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Dad "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all. Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year, something I always thought was strange, as Cedric had wanted to forfeit the result straight away.

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

"Not too bad," said Dad "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 peered good-naturedly around at my brothers, Harry, Hermione, Demelza and I.

"All these yours, Arthur?"

"No, obviously not, look how different Harry, Demelza and Hermione look to the rest of us" I said

Everyone except Dad sniggered

"Ginny!" Dad tried to scold me

"No, no Arthur don't worry, your daughter's got a good sense of humour" Amos said, holding up a hand "But Harry you say, Harry Potter?"

I walked up to stand next to Harry at this point. I was about as tired of people staring at him as he was!

"Er — yeah," said Harry.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said 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 fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you . . . it was an accident. . . ."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared 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!"

"Umm, it was because of the Dementors!" I snapped at him "and Harry nearly died that day, he fell like fifty feet! Cedric's being truthful, not modest, and he wanted to call it off right away!"

Amos suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and Dad noticed, because he quickly changed the subject.

"Must be nearly time," he said quickly, pulling out his watch again. "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," said Amos. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Dad. "Yes, it's a minute off. . . . We'd better get ready"

"The Lovegoods? Luna didn't tell me she was going, did she tell you Demelza?" I said

Demelza bit her lip, thinking.

"I can't recall her saying so, and she's never displayed a huge interest in Quidditch. Oh well, it'll be good to see her there though!"

Dad looked 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 ten of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos. We all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to me how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now . . . ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. . . .

"Three . . ." muttered Dad, one eye still on his watch, "two . . . one . . ."

I felt the familiar horrible sensation of Portkey travel, and then felt myself slam into the ground, Hermione fell on top of me. Looking up, I saw that Dad, Amos and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.

"