Willow's POV:
I woke up the next morning to find the spot next to me empty and smells of cooking coming from the kitchen urging me out of bed. I still felt the tingling sensation moving through my body as I stretched my poor limbs. A small smile came to my face as I remembered what lead to the tingling sensation but a frown soon followed as the memories of the Dark Mark and screaming. I slid out of bed, leaving the warm covers behind. I made my way down the stairs yawning softly, reaching the kitchen in time to see Severus putting some orange juice in a cup and setting it down.
"Good morning." I muttered, earning a smile from the man who I have come to love very deeply. He handed me a cup of coffee as I sat down at the table. A newspaper sat on the table. Looking at it, I saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"I knew it," I said heavily. "Ministry blunders . . . culprits not apprehended . . . lax security . . . Dark wizards running unchecked . . . national disgrace . . . Who wrote this? Ah . . . of course . . . Rita Skeeter. I feel like right now at the Burrow Percy is going on and on about how she's got it in for the Ministry and Bill would be telling him to shut it."
I looked up to find Severus pretending to be asleep, I rolled my eyes fighting the urge to smack him.
Third Person POV:
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "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?" Ginny asked, who was mending her 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."
Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Harry liked this clock. 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 the Weasley 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."
Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley 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 Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.
"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'?"
YOU ARE READING
A Greater Power
Fanfiction**On Hold** Willow Black is the only daughter to a man she has never known. Born to a woman who was a drug abuser, Willow learned how to survive at a young age. Now as a Seventh Year Slytherin, Willow will be tested in ways she never thought possibl...
