Dark Pasts { A Harry Potter Story }

Chapter 1 - The Portkey

I sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Pixie Puffs, staring absently at the enchanted sponge washing the dishes in the sink. I jumped slightly when I heard a thud behind me, and turned around to see that my dad had just entered the kitchen.

"Up already!" he said.

"You said we had to leave early," I said.

Today was the Quidditch World Cup Final and my dad, who was an Auror at the Ministry of Magic, had managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Britain had not hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets were extremely hard to come by, so this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"How are we getting there?" I asked.

"By Portkey," my dad said. "The Ministry placed two hundred of them at strategic points around Britain, and the nearestone to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we'reheaded."

It was still dark when we walked out of the house and set off toward Stoatshead Hill. It was cold too, but I did not complain, for I knew it was all worth it. The sun was beginning to rise when we reached the top and began to search for the Portkey.

"Over here!" I called as my eyes landed on a mouldy-looking old boot on the ground.

"Fantastic!" my dad said.

Suddenly another man emerged from the trees.

"Greg!" he said with a smile.

A very attractive boy stood beside him and nodded to us.

"This is my son Cedric," the man said.

"Yes, they go to school together!" my dad said as he patted my shoulder. I gave him a look but he did not notice. "Elizabeth, this is — "

"Amos!" another voice sounded and I turned to see a red-headed man walking toward us.

Then others appeared behind him whom I recognized at once. Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron. I smiled at them but gasped when my eyes landed on my best friend.

"Mione!" I said.

"Liz!" she said and hugged me. "I didn't know you'd be here!"

Another boy, Harry, stood beside her in silence. As we were all in the same House, we were all friends, but Hermione was much closer to them than I was. 

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley was saying. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Hermione and I exchanged a knowing look.

"And this is Gregory Rosier," Mr. Weasley said as he nodded at my dad. "He works for the Auror Department. And you know his daughter Elizabeth, of course."

"All these yours, Arthur?" Mr. Diggory asked as he looked at all the teenagers standing before him.

"Oh no, only the redheads," Mr. Weasley said. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's — and Harry, another friend —"

"Merlin's beard," Mr. Diggory said with wide eyes. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er — yeah," Harry said.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," he said. "Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . You beat Harry Potter!"

None of us said anything as we recalled the match in question in which Harry had fallen off his broom because of dementors roaming about the school grounds.