What felt like barely fifteen minutes after he'd gone to bed, Harry was awoken by the chime of Ron's alarm clock, and a knock on the door. Mrs Weasley crept inside, smiling when she saw Harry was blinking himself awake. "Time to get up, dear," she whispered, moving to shake Ron, who was sleeping soundly through the alarm. At the foot of Harry's bed, two indistinct shapes were shuffling around. Harry reached for his glasses, seeing the twins sit up with identical groggy stretches, silhouetted in the dark. Even the sun wasn't up yet.
They dressed silently, too sleepy to attempt conversation, and shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen. "Where're the others?" Ron asked through a yawn. Mr Weasley looked up.
"The girls will be down in a minute. The other boys are old enough to apparate, so they get a bit of a lie in." He stood up, holding his arms out with a grin. "What do you think? Do I look like a muggle? We're supposed to go incognito."
He was wearing a golf jumper and a pair of baggy jeans that looked older than Harry was. "Very good," Harry approved, grinning.
Hermione and Ginny stumbled in, slumping into chairs as Mrs Weasley began to ladle out porridge for everyone. Mr Weasley say back down and shuffled through some pieces of parchment, counting assumed.
them;
their
tickets,
Harry
"Eat up, we've got a bit of a walk," Mr Weasley told them, pocketing the tickets. Ginny looked up at him blearily.
"Walk?" she repeated, unimpressed.
"To the portkey," Mr Weasley explained. "With so many people going to the same place, they could only put out a certain number of portkeys. It's why we're up so early, I'm afraid," he added to Harry and Hermione. "Scheduled departure time and all."
"I've done worse for airport runs," Hermione assured him, rubbing at her eyes. His eyes lit up. "I've always wondered what that was like, flying on an air-plane," he started.
"George!" Mrs Weasley said sharply, making them all jump. It was far too early for sudden loud noises. "What is that in your pockets?"
"Nothing!" The answer came too quickly. Mrs Weasley scowled, and with a quick summoning charm several brightly coloured objects were zooming into her outstretched hand. Harry braced himself for the tirade, seeing Ron do the same across the table. Several more charms had the sweets flying from all sorts of unexpected places, including the turn-ups of Fred's jeans, Mrs Weasley yelling at them all the while. If Harry had known they were trying to smuggle them out of the house, he would've offered his services!
After a somewhat frosty goodbye from the Weasley matriarch, they were setting off across the grass by the light of the moon. Harry sped up to walk beside Mr Weasley. "So where's this portkey leaving from, then?" He'd never used a portkey before, but Remus had taught him about them over the summer.
"Stoatshead Hill," Mr Weasley replied, pointing to the land mass rising up in front of them. "There's about two hundred portkeys all over Britain for this, and this is our nearest." Climbing Stoatshead Hill at the best of times was probably quite the ordeal, but in the dark it was a minefield of rabbit holes and unexpected rocks. All of them were breathless and a little sweaty by the time they reached the top, and Harry saw two silhouettes across the hilltop. "Over here, Arthur!"
"Amos!" Mr Weasley greeted brightly, striding towards the pair and shaking the taller one's hand warmly. As they grew closer, Harry made out the other figure as Cedric Diggory, his brown hair windswept and his cheeks flushed. "Kids, this is Amos Diggory, and I believe you know his son."
"Hi Cedric!" Harry said cheerfully, once it became clear the twins were not going to do so. The rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team still held a grudge against the Hufflepuff seeker for the match last year, even though Harry had told them to let it go.
"Hiya, Harry. Hi, everyone," Cedric added with a quick wave. Hermione and Ginny both giggled quietly. It was a common reaction around Cedric Diggory, Harry had noticed. He didn't really blame them; the Hufflepuff was very handsome.
"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos asked companionably. "We had to get up at two! I'll be glad when he's got his apparition license, I swear. I can't side-along to save my life; I'd splinch us both."
"Only
a
month
away, Dad," Cedric offered supportively. Amos chuckled.
"It's alright, lad. It's worth it for this! Blimey, Arthur," he added, looking around at the gathered crowd. "Don't tell me all these are yours?"
"Oh, no, only the redheads," Mr Weasley assured. "Harry and Hermione are Ron's friends. But I've got three more old enough to apparate themselves."
Amos' eyes moved to Harry, and Harry mentally counted down as soon as he saw the man's eyes flick to his forehead. "Merlin's beard! Harry Potter!" His eyes went wide. "Ced's told me all about you, of course! I said to him, I said, Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren! You beat Harry Potter at quidditch!" Cedric winced, giving Harry an apologetic glance. "I told you, Dad, there were dementors, it wasn't a fair match."
"Oh, you Hufflepuffs!" Amos dismissed, clapping his son on the shoulder. "It doesn't take a genius to see who's the better flier when one man falls off his broom and the other stays on! Eh, Harry?"
"I mean, if you'd like to try playing quidditch while listening to your mother's screams as she's murdered in front of you," Harry retorted evenly, "by all means, be my guest."
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