FLIPPED - harry potter

༺ 23 - home again. ༻

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| HOME AGAIN |

"He's going to sought after
people whether you say it
or not—"

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MR WEASLEY WOKE THE KIDS WITH ONLY A FEW HOURS OF SLEEP, Alora's eyes were heavy, her body was tired and so was her mind. Unbothered to walk back to the Portkey. Dazedly she got ready, and out of the tent. Mr Weasley packed up the tent and they set off again, passed Mr Roberts who muttered a faint 'Merry Christmas'

"He'll be alright," said Mr Weasley quietly, they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disoriented for a while. . .and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

They arrived at the Portkey, and in a matter of seconds were back at Ottery St Catchpole towards in the now seeping of daylight.

Rounding the corner of the lane, and watching the familiar Burrow come into view, Alora sighed in relief. A recognisable cry echoed along the damp lane.

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running, still wearing her slippers, face paled and strained, with a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet in hand.

"Arthur — I've been so worried — so worried—" she said, as she flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck. The copy of the Daily Prophet fell from her hands as she did so, revealing the text 'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP' completed with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the tree tops.

"You're all right," Mrs Weasley mumbled distractedly. "you're alive, oh boys. . ."

To everyone's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into a tight motherly embrace, so close that the twins heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum — you're strangling us —"

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

Molly was quickly yet lowly told by Mr Weasley about the accusations that Alora faced last night, if we were being literal, she would've burned the house down.

"MR CROUCH WILL HAVE IT FROM ME! MY LORA WOULDNT DO SUCH THING! HONESTLY!" Alora heard Mrs Weasley shout from the kitchen, as she lay on one of the sofas in the living room, pillow to the chest.

Alora got up from her laid position on the couch, and headed into the kitchen where the faint screaming had died down and now all that could he seen was Mrs Weasley's warm smile staring back at Alora's fake one.

"Let me put a brew on for you," Mrs Weasley placed a hand on Alora's shoulder. "Sit down."

"Mrs Weasley. . ." Harry spoke, unable to contain himself. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with two letters for me and Lora, has she?"

"Hegwig, dear?" said Mrs Weasley distractedly. "No. . .no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry. Alora grabbed her tea and drank it quickly, not saying a word. The house felt quiet, like it was missing something.