"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told us importantly that evening, as we prepared to return to Hogwarts the next morning. "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?" I asked while mending my 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 en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."
Mum glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. 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 our 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 "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril. At no point had any of the hands ever pointed at the final four, but with You Know Who seemingly gaining more strength, I would be surprised if that didn't change in the near future.
Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Dad's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mum 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 feels he's 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 Mum flaring up at once.
"Yeah Perce, I rarely agree with Mum, but in no way was anything Dad said or did appropriate for Skeeter to twist in her malicious ways! Come to think of it, nothing she twists is appropriate!" I said
"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."
"Feels shit that doesn't it Mum, being denied things you feel so strongly about!" I said
"Language Ginevra!"
"Don't call me that!"
"Don't swear then!"
"Mum, I've heard you swear many times, it's no more appropriate when you do it", I said, rolling my eyes and laughing.
"Oh just get out of my hair, for god's sake!"
Everyone laughed.
Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mum had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt. 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 Mum sharply, her eyes on the twins.
"Homework," said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mum.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.
"We get summer homework you know Mum" I interjected, "In fact, I only finished mine last night, Snape set a very nasty essay for all those going into third year"
"God I remember that one!" Harry grimaced, "I had to complete that while Marge was around last year, as if that wasn't bad enough already! Shrinking Potions, ugh!"
"Tell me about it!"
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mum shrewdly, ignoring us. "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 Mum.
"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again. Dad's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; 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 Mum, hurrying out of the room. A few moments later, Dad 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 Mum as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled 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."
"Typical Ludo. Wonder how many more silencing charms Amy's had to suffer this week?" I said, shaking my head.
"If we're lucky, Amy will be the only one" Dad replied.
"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 Dad 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 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!" said Hermione angrily.
"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "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?"
"I can't lie, Hermione has a point" I said
"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mum breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you. . . ."
I of course, had already done so, as had Hermione, as we, unlike Harry and my brothers, were proactive rather than reactive. All Hermione had to do was put away her Standard Book of Spells Grade 4.
"Cheers for trying to back me up down there" she said
"Thanks, you do have a point though, house elves should be treated better" I replied
"I've been thinking about starting a campaign. I'll look into it more at Hogwarts"
"Why do Harry and Ron leave everything to the last minute?" I asked, changing the subject.
"God knows, it's a classic boy trait" Hermione replied.
"Can I see your "dress for special occasions?"
"Oh yes, sure you can!" said Hermione, her eyes lighting up!
She pulled out a very beautiful looking blue dress.
"Wow, Hermione, you've never bought anything as good as that!" I said
"I know, well, I thought as it says special occasions, I might as well go big this time"
"You'll certainly make an impression wearing that!"
"Can I see yours?" she asked.
I got out mine, which wasn't quite as beautiful looking, but still pretty nice, and coloured pink and green. At that point, we heard an argument coming from upstairs. It sounded like Ron and Mum. I flicked my head to the left, to indicate we should go and eavesdrop.
We sat at the bottom of the staircase to Ron's room.
"Dress robes!" Mum was saying "It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year . . . robes for formal occasions."
"You've got to be kidding," said Ron in disbelief. "I'm not wearing that, no way."
I shared an excited glance with Hermione, we HAD to go up there and see exactly what they were talking about!
"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mum crossly. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"
"I'll go starkers before I put that on," said Ron stubbornly.
"Don't be so silly," said Mum. "You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry too . . . show him, Harry. . . ."
"I thought they'd bring out the colour of your eyes, dear," said Mum fondly. Clearly this was in reference to Harry's robes.
"Well, they're okay!" said Ron angrily.
"Why couldn't I have some like that?"
"Because . . . well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!" said Mum
At this I looked away from Hermione, and bit my lip. Finances were always an awkward topic of discussion in our family.
"I'm never wearing them," Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never."
"Fine," snapped Mum "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh."
Hermione and I laughed! I wish Mum showed this humorous side more often!
We ducked into a storage room so that Mum didn't see us on her way down, then headed upstairs to Ron's room. I leant against his doorframe, crossing my arms, and my left leg over my right.
"Let's see these dress robes of yours then!" I said, smirking
"I suppose I won't get a prize for guessing that you eavesdropped" said Ron bitterly
I placed a hand over my heart, and dropped my mouth open in mock outrage
"Ron, how could you ever accuse your little sister of such a thing!" I said sarcastically
Hermione, Harry and I laughed, while Ron scowled
"I'm not showing you anything!" he said
"Oh please, like that'll stop me!" I said, rolling my eyes. "Ok look, Harry, show me your "okay" ones first"
Harry did so.
"You know what, Mum's right, that does match your eyes well, you'll look perfectly good enough in those if it comes to some sort of dance party" I told him. I was pretty sure that the Triwizard Tournament also included some type of ball.
Harry looked smug at this, while Ron, if possible, looked even more angry.
"Ok, come on Ron, get yours out. Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either you get them out or I'll summon them!" I'd been practicing that spell ever since Mum used it to find the twins' toffees. Ron didn't move.
"Fine, have it your way. Accio Ron's dress robes!"
Something sped out from under Ron's bedsheets, right into my hands. It was a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs.
"Oh Merlin" I said, and Ron turned away, hiding his face in embarrassment. "You're going to look incredible in this".
"Yeah Ron" Hermione added, "I'm actually quite jealous!"
Both of us burst out laughing, thinking of Ron's miserable robes compared to our own stunning dresses.
"Yep, he'll be raking all the girls in, don't you worry!" said Harry
"Are you guys quite finished yet?!" snapped Ron
"Pretty much, but we can carry on if you want" I said
"No!" he retorted angrily, walking over and snatching the robes out of my hands.
"Alright, alright keep your bloody hair on!" I told him. The force of his grab had caused me to stand up straight.
"I will do as long as you get out of this room now! You too Hermione!"
We did so, still laughing and joking at Ron's expense.