SuperPotterLock- The Goblet of Fire

Mayhem at the Ministry

John awoke the next morning to Sherlock shaking his shoulder. He sat up blearily and swayed. He groaned, feeling extremely dizzy and as if he hadn't slept at all. He didn't have the energy to get dressed, so he ended up being the only one is his pyjamas with a coat thrown over the top.

Mr Weasley packed all their tents away by magic and they left the campsite, passing a dazed Mr Roberts on the way.

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys were, and when they reached it, they found a crowd of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys. Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with him, and they were able to take an old tyre back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had properly risen. They walked back down the hill to The Burrow, with many breaks for John and taking turns carrying his bag for him, thinking longingly of breakfast. They rounded a corner, and as The Burrow came into view, a 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 towards them, a screwed up copy of The Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. 'Arthur – I've been so worried – so worried-' She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck and the paper fell out of her had. As it fell, the headline became visible: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling, black and white photograph of the Dark Mark hanging over the tree-tops.

John felt his legs beginning to give way and Sherlock's arms wrapped around him once again.

'Let's get you inside,' Sherlock murmured.

They went past Mrs Weasley fiercely hugging Fred and George, into the living room, where John collapsed on the sofa, with Sherlock sat on the edge.

'You haven't slept,' John said to Sherlock as he got comfortable.

'I don't need to,' Sherlock said softly. 'I'll be right here while you rest.'

Everyone else came in and crammed into the living room, except Hermione, who went to make Mrs Weasley a strong cup of tea. Mr Weasley insisted on adding a shot of firewhiskey to it. Bill then handed Mr Weasley the newspaper, which he scanned with Percy looking over his shoulder.

'I knew it,' Mr Weasley said heavily. 'Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace... Who wrote this? Ah... of course... Rita Skeeter.'

'That woman's got it in for the Ministry!' said Percy furiously. 'Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires. As if it wasn't specifically stated in the paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans-'

'Do us a favour, Perce,' yawned Bill, 'and shut up.'

'I'm mentioned,' said Mr Weasley as he reached the bottom of the article.

'Where?' spluttered Mrs Weasley. 'If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!'

'Not by name,' said Mr Weasley. 'Listen to this: "If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the woods expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that nobody had been hurt, yet two boys had been spotted carrying another from the woods only minutes beforehand-'

'Sorry,' said John.

'Don't be daft,' said Mr Weasley, waving a hand. '"Whether this will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later remains to be seen.'" Oh, really. Nobody was hurt, what was I supposed to say? Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods... Well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that.' He heaved a great sigh. 'Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office, this is going to take some smoothing over.'