Things are unstable at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A chilled feeling of unease has replaced any sense that the castle could remain a safe haven to teach and learn magic.
With the misfortunes of the previous year behind them, Fred an...
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WIMBOURNE WASPS
Not for the first time, an eruption was heard coming from beyond the river that bordered Ottery St. Catchpole, a distinctly British village that was often proudly described to backpacking tourists as picturesque, charming, and (most importantly) silent. It was a confusing occurrence, to be sure, but it transpired nonetheless. Those brave enough to investigate the occasional distant rumblings would discover that, over the stone bridge, and then over the second hill, concealed within the sparse apple orchard, there was nothing more than an innocent field where the occasional lonely goat preferred to graze. Well, at least, that was how such a place appeared to the non-magical. To the Muggles. While those gifted with the power to cast spells and bewitch the foundations of the earth were greeted by a sign for The Burrow and a leaning, ramshackle dwelling that attempted to shelter a formidable but friendly red-haired, freckle-faced family — The Weasleys.
On this particularly peaceful day at the Burrow, a plump, gray rat was scurrying through the grass. It darted from the house wearing a bright yellow paper hat and hid beneath a rubber tire, before rushing toward a discarded suitcase, sunken into the ground and half-covered in moss. It was their pet rat, Scabbers. He was squeaking and gnawing at the twine that kept the hastily painted hat in place when an unexpected cloud of sand burst from the house with a thunderous rumble, scaring away the chickens and flapping open the front door.
A woman was howling. Frightened, Scabbers cowardly sought an escape by squeezing his way into a hole at the corner of the suitcase. He swiftly got himself stuck. The rat had fattened up considerably over the summer months. Scabbers backed up, his pink tail wiggling in the sandy breeze, and chewed a slab off the edge so he could pop his way inside the suitcase where it was safe, peaceful, and surprisingly spacious. Inside the cramped Burrow, however, chaos reigned. Which was not at all uncommon.
Percy was the first to be seen, coughing roughly and waving his hand through the gritty air. He pulled the door closed while Errol, the feeble family owl, flapped his wings, crashing blindly into the walls. Charlie understood the squawk of pain and whistled before opening the nearest window so Errol could escape.
As the Weasley family walked about in hysterics, attempting to get their bearings, Fred and George stood in the kitchen wearing matching smiles.
"That was..." Fred began.
"...absolutely..." George continued.
"...fantastic!" they finished in one voice.
"Oh, my word, what a catastrophe!" their mother shouted.
Through the grainy cloud, Molly found a pot that had fallen to the floor and reached for her magic wand. She tapped the edge and muttered an incantation. At once, there was a slurping sound and all the sand in the house began to churn into a vortex toward her. As the pot filled, they were able to see the source of the sudden burst of unexplained sand. Standing in the kitchen was a tall man in a worn leather cap and goggles. Beside him, a dispirited goblin who seemed quite unaffected by the sand.
