A New Snake

Chapter 1

Harry knew this year was going to be great. He could feel it. Any school year that started off with going to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys had to be a good year.

Today was the day the Weasleys would come get him from the Dursleys. He's looked forward to this day every year since he went to Hogwarts. He had all of his things packed up. His school things, wand, and clothes were in his trunk waiting by the front door. He sat alone in his room writing a letter to Sirius while he waited. He had just sent it off with Hedwig with orders to go to the Weasleys' after when a knock sounded on the front door. He rolled up his parchment, stoppered his ink, and carried them and his quill downstairs where Aunt Petunia was opening the door for none other than Arthur Weasley, the twins, and Ron. She said nothing but stepped quickly out of the room once she saw Harry at the bottom of the steps.

Mr. Weasley saw him quickly as well and gave a very amiable greeting, "Hello there, Harry. Ready to go?" Harry nodded, trying not to laugh as the twins messed with Ron in the background. He enjoyed their antics but was immensely glad that they weren't aimed towards him. Arthur grabbed Harry's trunk after he replaced the stationery, shrunk it, and put it in his pocket. Together they walked to their new car—it was just inconvenient to get Harry by magical means, the way his guardians were—and loaded into it. It didn't take very long for them to get to the Burrow. This time, the only thing the car was enhanced with was the extra space. Mrs. Weasley was willing to allow that, but no more, and only because it was enormously useful. Mrs. Weasley came out the door wiping her hands on a flour-covered apron and quickly wrapped her arms around Harry.

"Are you hungry, Harry, dear? You look positively bone-thin. Come in, come in. I've got some biscuits waiting with your name on them." Harry couldn't help but grin as the red-headed family bustled inside and he followed, willing to take Mrs. Weasley up on that offer of biscuits. When he came into the house, Hermione stood quickly from the couch where she had been reading and wrapped her arms around Harry just as tightly as Mrs. Weasley had. When she finally released him, Ron came up from behind her and clapped a hand on his shoulder. They hugged a little, then Ron led Harry to their room. He got himself settled while he ate biscuits and Ron ranted about the Chudley Cannons. Harry enjoyed this, a breath of fresh air from having to fight an evil dark lord or put up with his horrible relatives.

When he was all settled, the two went downstairs. As soon as they reached the bottom, Mrs. Weasley called everyone in for supper. The table was covered in all kinds of delicious home-made foods. Harry was almost drooling as he hastily knicked a roll from the bread basket on his end of the table because, soon after, that basket was empty and more rolls were making their way fresh from the pan and towards the basket. Instead of reaching their target, they were snatched out of the air by hungry hands. The room was silent as they all took a while to just eat.

It wasn't long before everyone, except a few Weasley boys—including Ron—were done. Everyone sat in the living room while Mrs. Weasley's magic did the work of cleaning up. As Harry sat on the old couch, smiling as the twins messed with Ron and Ginny, he couldn't help but think, I'm so glad I'm here. I'm glad I met Ron and Hermione. I'm happy. Hermione watched him from over the top of her book in an armchair across from him as a true smile broke out on his face. She smiled from behind the cover of pages and returned to her book. She knew Harry had a hard time; she was happy he could find sanctuary here.

The family and their guests—who might as well have been family—spent much of the night chatting excitedly about the Quidditch world cup, and whether Ireland or Bulgaria would win. Soon, they all went to bed. There was a lot to do tomorrow and they would have to get up bright and early if they wanted a good spot to put their tent. Harry vaguely wondered how all of the Weasleys would fit in one tent, but couldn't be bothered much to think about it. He was too tired to be worried about something like that, and he figured he'd find out soon enough. So he slept, and the house was quiet—other than the occasional hoots of the family owl and Hedwig or Ron's quiet snores in the room near him. By now he'd learnt to ignore the creaks of the ghoul in the attic, so it didn't bother him. He fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Hermione came in to wake the boys up, it was decidedly too early for both of them. But soon the excitement of the Quidditch World Cup overcame their grumpiness as they packed some things and hurried downstairs to eat breakfast. Before long, the large group was making their way up the hill near the Burrow. On top of said hill was simply an old boot. As they reached the crest, Harry could see two more people coming up the other side of the hill. From what Harry could see in the poor lighting, it was a man and a teenage boy who must have been 17 at least. Harry vaguely recognized the teen's face as a Hufflepuff three years ahead of him. Harry thought he was a prefect.

When the pair finally reached them, Mr. Weasley and the man shook hands, "Arthur! How are you?"

"I am well, Amos. And you?" the man—Amos—nodded the affirmative. "And I'm guessing this is Cedric? You've grown! I'd bet you're a Seeker to be reckoned with!"

With those words, Harry remembered the Hufflepuff. He was the Hufflepuff Seeker who beat Gryffindor that past year because of Harry's problems with the Dementors; he'd passed out mid-air. Harry remembered hearing that the Seeker—also the Team Captain—had tried to convince the teachers to let them have a rematch. He hadn't felt he had won fairly. A glance at Ron told Harry that he was remembering the same thing, but with a far less forgiving outlook. Ron didn't like Cedric because of what had happened. Harry understood and commended the Hufflepuff's actions to try to fix something he saw as wrong. Obviously, Ron didn't see it that way. While he was in his own head, the group had each reached down and grabbed hold of a part of the boot.

"C'mon, Harry. Grab hold." Mr. Weasley urged, looking quickly at his watch. He saw Hermione and all of the others had a hand on some part of the boot as well. Hesitantly, he grabbed the only real space left, a stray shoelace, and seconds later the group was picked up and dumped somewhere new. Everyone but the Diggorys—as he had soon remembered their name was—and Mr. Weasley had fallen back onto the grass. The other three stood tall, reaching down to help the others up. Harry was searching for his glasses, which had somehow gotten lost on the journey when a hand holding said glasses showed itself in front of him. He thanked whoever it was and quickly put his glasses on his face. Looking up, he saw that the hand was still outstretched and it was connected to Cedric. Harry gladly took the offer and let the young man help pull him up. He dusted himself off and the two joined the rest of the group.

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