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Aurora Areli
WHEN I WOKE UP the next morning, there was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as I got dressed in my favourite worn-out jeans and a sweater. Ginny insisted on spending an extra quarter of an hour braiding my hair, so by the time she was done and had moved on to Hermione, I could hear Mr Weasley shouting goodbye up the stairs.
I checked my trunk one last time before I decided to head downstairs for breakfast. Bill and Charlie were just entering the kitchen as I arrived. Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Atticus were already there.
"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill was asking. "What's he been up to now?"
"Someone tried to break into his house last night," Mrs Weasley said, as I sat down between my brother and Harry.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" George said thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter —"
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," Mrs Weasley said sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" Fred said quietly, as Mrs Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather . . ."
"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" Charlie said.
"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" Fred said. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything . . ."
"Who is Mad-Eye?" Harry asked.
"He used to work at the Ministry with my parents," I spoke up. "He trained them to become Aurors like him . . . er — Dark-wizard-catchers," I added, upon seeing Harry's blank look.
"He was one of the best," Charlie nodded. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though . . . the families of people he caught, mainly . . . and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone any more. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."
Bill and Charlie decided to come and see all of us off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologising profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.
"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told us. "Mr Crouch is really starting to rely on me."
"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" George said seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."
Mrs Weasley had braved the telephone in the village Post Office to order three Muggle taxis to take us into London.
"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs Weasley whispered to Harry and I as we stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heave eight heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare . . . oh dear, they don't look too happy, do they?"
