Chapter 2
Arthur climbed the stairs with a slight groan. They seemed to grow with every passing year, that had to be it. Two hours before the sun would even begin to glimpse above the horizon, there seemed to be even more stairs than usual.
But, the day had to start. They would be hiking to Stoatshead hill in Devon after the Diggory father and son--Amos and Cedric, respectively--arrived at the Burrow. Nearly each bedroom Arthur woke up reacted in the same way, groaning and pulling of blankets over their heads as if it would hide them from the day's early start.
When Rebecca finally forced herself to get out of bed, it was largely because Hermione had taken all of the blankets and she was too cold to lay there any longer. Changing quickly, the smell of breakfast urged her down the hall more awake than she had been. It had become routine to leave the bathroom door open if you were only brushing your teeth, so that others could as well.
Rebecca normally had no feelings about this, though she was left conflicted that morning. Fred and George tumbled into the bathroom to brush their teeth as well...shirtless. Rebecca hadn't ever found herself noticing something like this before, certainly not noticing how she was keeping her eyes focused everywhere else.
Wishing them a good morning, Rebecca finished in the bathroom fairly quickly and headed down the stairs to see if she could help with anything.
George, now in the bathroom with just his twin, nudged Fred and gave him a cheeky grin. "Was I right or was I right?"
"Right about what?" Fred asked, his face still feeling warm. He'd never felt embarrassed in front of Rebecca before, but he had felt so exposed in such close quarters with her half-clothed. "Why couldn't we brush our teeth dressed?"
George's smile dropped and he grew serious. "Fred, fifth year starts in a week and a half. We need to up your game!"
Fred rolled his eyes. "I'll worry about my 'game.' You worry about the fact that you've dribbled toothpaste down your shorts."
George didn't look until after Fred had left to keep his brother from any satisfaction, but he had, in fact, drooled. "Damn!"
*******************************************
"Bathrooms empty if you two hurry." Rebecca warned, finding Ginny and Hermione to be sitting up sleepily. "I'll see you downstairs, yeah?"
Rebecca received a chorus of grunts in response.
Harry and Ron were already downstairs, talking about who they thought would win between Bulgaria and Ireland again. "Ready for a hike?" Rebecca asked as she stepped between them to get to the kitchen.
"No." Ron grinned. "But we're ready for the match!"
"Morning, sweets." Molly said, not looking over her shoulder but knowing who was coming in as mother's do. "Open the door, would you?" Massive quantities of breakfast foods were on plates ready to be dished out and eaten, levitating in the kitchen and waiting for the door to the garden to open. Tables had been laid out by Charlie and Arthur minutes earlier, too many people in the house to cram into the dining room. "I've made some muffins, too."
"I'm not that predictable, am I?" Rebecca asked with a laugh.
Molly laughed as well, but didn't answer. There was too much to do as she was moving straight from breakfast into packing lunch foods for Arthur to bring for everybody as well.
Fred walked down the stairs, fully dressed for the day. Rebecca felt a sense of...resignation at the sight. Shaking her head to clear any remaining thoughts of feelings on the topic. "Someone told me breakfast is outside." She said sing-songily.
"I'll bet, imagine all of us piling round the table!" Fred pulled his shoulders up to his neck and mimed trying to move his arm to his mouth and being unable to. Holding the door above her head, he hopped out of the house behind her. "Sleep well?"
"Fred, you watched me drink the tea last night." Rebecca said as she surveyed the plate of muffins.
"Yeah, I know." Fred shrugged. "Didn't know if if it was still working and all."
"Nothing to report." Rebecca waved to Hermione and Ginny as they exited the house with Harry and Ron right behind. "I would tell you, you just have to believe me."
"That's not-" Fred wasn't able to say anything else, not in the growing conversations around them.
*******************************************
Molly and Arthur stood on the front porch, chatting with Amos as the children already-called-for inside shrugged on their packs. Fred, lingering in the kitchen, wrapped up a few of the muffins leftover just in case.
"Harry, Rebecca, Hermione," Arthur introduced those unfamiliar with the Diggory senior. "This is Amos Diggory. Amos, these are-"
"Yes, yes, I know you two!" Amos said, rudely excluding Hermione. "Cedric is around here somewhere, probably lazing up a tree." Rebecca hadn't heard that expression before and chalked it up to a wizarding saying. "But you two surely remember him. He's the Hufflepuff captain, beat you Gryffindors last year."
Harry and Rebecca found the situation quite funny, though Hermione did not.
"Yes, sir. We remember." Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Hermione wasn't finished. "Was that the match that Harry fell off his broomstick because of the dementor attack?"
Harry tried to keep the smile off his face, failing slightly. "Yes, that would be the one."
"I told him that, he just didn't believe me." Cedric dropped out of the tree next to the house, shaking his head embarrassedly. "I'm sorry."
"A win is still a win, son!" Amos argued, exasperated.
Cedric rolled his eyes, sticking his hand out to Rebecca, Harry, and Hermione to shake it before greeting those he knew already. "I asked Dumbledore for a rematch, if you didn't know. It might have been counted as a win, but it shouldn't have been."
"We know." Rebecca gave Cedric a little shrug. "Didn't matter anyway, did it? Cup ended up ours in the end."
"That it did." Cedric admitted, smiling.
Molly gave her final hugs and kisses, warning them all to behave themselves and to be safe.
When their hike had begun, Cedric gravitated over to Rebecca's side and sparked a conversation about some of the riskier plays and passes the Gryffindor chasers had used in the final match. "The Shellington Split, what made you guys choose that?"
Rebecca enjoyed the topic, launching into a lengthy answer that was countered by an equally-lengthy response. The first leg of their hike was spent entirely enthralled with one another.
*******************************************
"Look at the two of them." Hermione grumbled to George. "Makes me sick."
"What?" George laughed, making sure neither Rebecca nor Fred would be able to hear their conversation. "Not a Diggory fan?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can see the appeal. He's handsome in a..." She couldn't quite place what she was thinking of. "Victorian way? But look at Fred! He's been walking by himself for the last mile!"
George, though he felt for his brother, couldn't help feel that his victory was undoubted in he and Hermione's wager. "Feeling the heat? You're not worried, are you?"
"Worried? Never." Hermione grinned deviously. "You read your letter, didn't you?"
"No, mum did to make the list but I've been busy."
Hermione's grin only grew. "You should when we get back. There's an extra requirement this year."
"What extra requirement?" George asked, unknowingly stepping in a trap.
"Dress robes for boys and a gown for girls." Hermione located Ginny and planned her exit. "Sounds like a dance if you ask me."
George was left to walk by himself for a few minutes, realising for the first time that he might actually lose the very wager he'd proposed.
*******************************************
"Still--in the last minutes of the match?" Cedric asked incredulously. "Sometimes it feels like our moves have been planned out for weeks."
Rebecca couldn't lie, she enjoyed the revering tone Cedric had continued to use with her about how she played. "It was actually Angelina's call but she changed the formation. She'd been clipped by a bludger early on and couldn't take point-"
"No!" Cedric gasped. "Don't tell me you'd never even down it before!"
"We hadn't, not like that." Rebecca looked over her shoulder for the countless time. "In those positions, I mean."
"You can go on over if you want." Cedric saw something in how she looked at the Weasley twin walking alone. "I've stolen your ear for long enough."
"I think I've done more talking that you have but if you really want to take the blame." Rebecca said, making the two of them laugh. As the split, Cedric gravitated over to where his father and Arthur were talking while Rebecca wove around the clusters of walking partnerships and bumped into Fred's side.
"Hey!" He said, narrowly avoiding another rabbit hole. "If you're not careful, you'll end up having to carry me to the portkey."
"Is that what we're walking to? A key?"
Fred revelled in the chance to explain what a portkey was to her, finding an appreciated for the way she asked so many clarifying questions when he was finished. The sun had risen by this point and the summer warmth was growing steadily. Both Fred and Rebecca reached for their water, laughing at how they moved in unison. Trying to put back her now emptied bottle, Rebecca struggled until she resigned herself to having to take her pack off.
"I'll get it." Fred slid her water back easily. "Hungry?"
Rebecca gave him a look questioning why he'd ask. "Yeah, a little. Did you bring a snack?"
Fred swung his backpack around so that it was in front of him and pulled out what he'd packed. "I most definitely did." Revealing a muffin, he beamed at how Rebecca lit up.
"You know, I thought about grabbing them like I do at school but I didn't want to take them before everyone else had eaten and then I-"
"Forgot about them as you chatted with your number one fan?" Fred offered, teasing her slightly.
"Ha. Ha." Rebecca failed to come up with another answer. "I forgot because I...I was-" Fred burst into laughter and dragged her into it as well. "Okay, it might have been because Cedric started talking to me about the final." Splitting the muffin down the middle, Rebecca offered half to Fred.
Ginny pointed out to Hermione how Fred and Rebecca had ended up walking together, smiling as the pair apparently agreed on the hilarity of a topic and laughed wildly. Hermione caught George looking at the moment and then to Hermione, sticking his tongue out petulantly.
"This should be it!" Arthur called from the top of a hill. "Start looking for the portkey!"
The group fanned out, Harry rushing up to Arthur's side. "What sort of objects are portkeys anyway?"
"Well, they can be anything." Arthur answered kindly. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them. Could be a-"
"I think this might be it!" Ron called from the backside of the hill.
"Shall we see, Harry?" Arthur let Harry lead the way to Ron, the two of them finding that Ron had most certainly found their transportation to the Quidditch World Cup. "Good job!" Arthur congratulated Ron, clapping his hand to Ron's shoulder.
"This is indeed a portkey!" Amos remarked, staring down at the object.
Rebecca and Harry felt that this had to be a joke. The object was a dirty, muddy, well-worn boot. How could an old boot be their ticket?
"Gather round, gather round!" Amos said loudly.
Arthur, opting for a slightly more instructional approach, waved the children around him. "We're going to take hold on the count of three. We'll let go when it's time, alright? One, two, three!"
Harry grabbed on as Rebecca did, finding that the result was a dizzying spin as their surroundings disappeared into a swirling grey.
"How will we know when it's time?" Hermione shouted over the roar of wind in all of their ears.
Rebecca thought that this was an excellent question and that this mode of transportation was her least favourite of all that they had tried in the wizarding world. Her hand was beginning to slip and she had no idea what would happen if someone let go early.
Fred fought against the momentum trying to keep his free arm flying behind him and caught Rebecca's wrist, snaking his hand down to hers. No matter what, now if Rebecca let go she would still be attached to their party.
"Now!" Amos directed without warning.
Harry went off flying into the grass, sliding into an already-crashed Hermione with a grunt. Rebecca had her eyes shut tightly and had yet to let go of Fred's hand, not even as she landed on something warm and moving--something warm, moving, and with an arm wrapped around her tightly.
Fred lifted his head from the ground to make sure all was well, that he and Rebecca were still in one piece, before letting his head drop back to the ground with a thud.
Rebecca left her forehead to his chest, willing the dizziness to go away and regretting her third muffin entirely. Fred put a hand back and pushed himself into a seated position, seating Rebecca in front of him. One hand on her back and the other reaching for his water, Fred was insistent. "Drink some water, small sips."
Rebecca pushed her glasses up to the top of her head, holding a hand over her eyes as she did as he instructed. Between the pressure over her eyes, the dark from closing them, and the cool water, she did find that her vertigo slowed. When she was able to open her eyes, the world was still as it should have been.
Fred stood up and held a hand out, hoisting her to her feet in a single motion. Drinking from his water before putting it back, he struggled exactly as Rebecca had at the beginning of their walk. Rebecca took it from his hands and managed a wry smile, putting it back for him.
Cedric, Amos, and Arthur came out of the vortex that had remained over the portkey walking on air, landing gently without any crashes whatsoever. "Come now!" Arthur called as he saw Harry and Ron still lying on the grass at Hermione's feet. "We can lay down once we get to the tent!"
Cedric offered Rebecca a warm smile and a promise that they would all be seeing each other at the match before saying goodbye to Fred and George and throwing the other soon-to-be fourth years a wave.
Rebecca--feeling much better--found herself enraptured like Harry and Hermione. For these three, this was the largest collection of magical people they had ever seen. Those still arriving were gravitating towards an entry point where a withered old man checked tickets before waving witches and wizards through.
"People from all over." The old man started a conversation with Arthur. "Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners...weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in only a kilt and a poncho!"
"Shouldn't he?" Arthur responded with a chuckle. "All set?"
Handing back the punched tickets, the old man nodded his head towards their left. "Section forty-five."
The traveling party worked their way in and out of different rows of tents and groups of people, largely distracted by the seemingly infinite number of things for them to look at. At last, they came across a tent with a sign in the ground out front that said "Weasley and company," the spot where Arthur turned around to make sure they were all still together.
Harry eyed the singular tent rather confused. "Mr Weasley, are we all going to be in one or..." He let his question end openly, not really seeing how a group as large as theirs could possibly fit into a single small tent.
"It's Arthur, Harry." Arthur corrected smiling and stepping to the side. "Go on inside and see for yourself."
Harry's question was sufficiently answered as he crouched under the canvas flap that was the door and found an entire living space inside. There was a living room area directly inside with a collection of chairs and other seats. Behind that, there was a kitchen and doorways on either side that branched off into different rooms of the 'tent.'
Arthur nodded, seeing how those unfamiliar with the expansiveness of wizard tents were stunned. "I am well aware of muggle camping equipment, hardly satisfactory." Finding that nearly every set of eyes had turned to him for instruction, Arthur remembered that it was his job for the trip to provide it. "Pick a bunk and get unpacked!"
Rebecca found that the door to the right opened into a long room with bunk beds on both sides. Tossing her pack up onto a top bunk and left it at that. How much unpacking were they really supposed to do? Hermione took the bunk below Rebecca while Ginny opted for a top bunk farther down the line.
Arthur, outside the bedroom, was making a circle and scolding as he went. "Get out of the kitchen, Ron. We're all hungry." Ron ate one more of whatever he'd found in the cupboard before putting it back.
"Yeah, get out of the kitchen!" Fred and George called in unison from where they'd made themselves comfortable. They only wanted to support Arthur, after all.
"Feet off the table!" Arthur chided, walking behind them.
"Feet off the table!" They said together, swinging their legs down as if they were doing what they were told only to put them back a second later once Arthur had passed them.
Harry, joining Ron in their perusal of sleeping arrangements, felt that this was one of the greatest experiences of his entire life and had to tell somebody just that. "I love magic."
*******************************************
After they'd settled in a little, Arthur went into the kitchen and started laying out all the making that were needed for sandwiches. "Harry? Ron?" He called, finding that the boys appeared almost instantly. "Utilising my authority vested in me, we need our waters filled. Gather everyone up and get on before I finish lunch. Turn right out the tent and go to the end of the row, take another right and there'll be a spot. Got it?"
Both boys nodded and turned to complete their mission.
"Don't dally!" Arthur called as the throng of children moved to towards the exit of the tent. "Lunch will be ready before you know it!" He appreciated the silence that followed their departure and wondered how Molly could possibly prepare this much food so many times a day without losing her mind.
The crowds outside the tent had only grown larger and louder, Rebecca noted. You could easily tell who represented which team at first look: The painted faces an excellent marker if the flags outside each tent of Ireland or Bulgaria weren't enough. Rebecca found her gaze torn from those around them to focus on the massive structure that was the arena. It had been erected just for the event and would be disassembled afterwards, a temporary monument to quidditch.
"What do you think they do with those sheets?" She wondered, not expecting anyone to hear or answer.
"What?" Harry leaned closer so that he could hear her over the clamour.
"Look!" Rebecca pointed up at the large white tarpaulin-like things suspended over the arena, most likely to hide their activities from any nearby muggle communities.
"You're thinking about the linens involved in all of this?" Harry asked incredulously, shaking his head and hurrying forward to relay her question on to Ron.
It was a good thing the water station had come into sight ahead, a queue having formed that they joined. Fred and George had been the last to hear the question and things had gotten lost in passing on. "What's this we hear about you wanting sheets?" Fred asked confused.
"No!" Rebecca laughed, shaking her head adamantly. "I don't need any bloody sheets! I was wondering where they stored those!"
George shrugged. "Why?"
Rebecca thought for a moment. "Could be interesting, couldn't it? The never-folding blanket?"
Fred rolled the idea around his head for a moment, finding it intriguing. "Like if it had a tie or something around it and once that was removed, the blanket sprung out?"
"Yeah!" Rebecca moved forward with the others as the queue moved slowly. "I bet that's what happens with those. They're massive."
"Not as large as you'd think, young lady?" An older man spoke from behind them, vaguely familiar to Fred and George and only slightly more familiar when he introduced himself. He was one of Arthur's colleagues. "Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and, luckily for your sakes', match commentator." He gave them a greasy smile and shook their hands. "Are we feeling Bulgarian or Irish this evening?"
In a thrice-multiplied unison, they answered as they had agreed. "Irish, the only way to be!"
"Such surety!" Ludo looked at them with a glint in his eye. "Care to make a wager on it?" He knew that these were the children of a co-worker, but he also knew where he could make some easy coin.
Fred and George seemed eager to answer, but Rebecca felt a nagging pull at the back of her mind that made her want to suggest something mental. "We're up in the box this evening. We'll discuss it and answer this evening, if that's alright with you?"
Ludo grinned. "Take all the time you need." Over their shoulders, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had already begun filling the bottles they carried. "Better hurry on, don't want to slow the line."
Fred and George were trying to find the perfect bet while they filled their bottles, Rebecca thinking on the subject as well. Harry and Hermione were occupied with a discussion as to why she needed to support the Irish with them while Ron and Ginny backed up his every argument.
"Any ideas?" Rebecca asked, their separate trio walking behind the others.
"Not one you're going to like." George answered ominously, motioning for Fred to say it.
"Our life savings."
"Molly's going to kill you." Rebecca said instantly.
"But when we win, we'll have made it all back and have doubled it." George justified.
"But what's the wager? How's Ireland going to win?" Rebecca asked, not wanting George's certainty to be a mistake.
Fred looked away, refusing to meet Rebecca's eyes. It was his turn to make George answer now. "It sure would be helpful if one of us could see the future."
Rebecca's first reaction was a flash of pride. They thought so highly of her that they thought she would be able to help them with such a parcel of money that the shop would be financed with extra aside. But the momentary pride was washed away with insecurity. "I've never chosen what I see. It's never worked like that."
Fred looked at George pointedly. "That's exactly what I said."
George raised his hands frustrated. "All we can do is try! If we don't make this money, there's no way we can get our feet off the ground with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes--there's just no way."
Rebecca raised her hand. "We could always go back to the idea of a loa-"
"No!" Fred and George said loudly, too loudly. Harry glanced back at the three of them and saw the serious natures of all of their faces. Rebecca crossed her arms and Harry read her lips, her response to whatever they were bickering about.
"I can try, but I can't promise anything."
*******************************************
Arthur was conflicted. He was glad that the children had returned because he had started to worry after half an hour had passed. But, at the same time, food only kept them quiet for so long. Checking the time, Arthur found that they had a few hours until they needed to make their way to the arena.
"Alright!" Arthur said, clapping his hands and standing up. "Few hours until it's go time. The World Cup can last many, many hours if we're lucky. I want everyone to at least provide me with the illusion that you are resting."
Watching as the children filed into the room with their bunks, Arthur sat on the couch and pushed his hat over his eyes. Charlie hadn't said much, distracted by the sheer number of people they were surrounded by, but he did appreciate the opportunity for a rest before the crowds had to be revealed again.
Harry and Ron had snuck a chess board in with them from the cache of games in the living room without Arthur noticing while Ginny and Hermione were sitting down on Hermione's bunk flipping through two of the handful of books Hermione had brought.
Kicking off her dusty trainers, Rebecca climbed up onto her bed and smoothed out her pillow as she situated herself on top of the sheets.
Fred and George climbed up onto the bunk at the head of hers, lying side by side. "This is stupid. We shouldn't be doing this." Fred muttered, a sinking feeling filling him up.
"Too late now." Rebecca responded, keeping her eyes closed until the weight of Fred's gaze grew too heavy for her to ignore any longer. "Fred, this might not even work."
George bumped Fred. "Yeah, Fred. It might not even work."
Rebecca rolled her eyes and let her head go back to its previous position. Looking back up at them moments later, Rebecca slid her glasses off and held them towards Fred and George so one of them took them while she napped.
A few minutes had passed when Rebecca opened her eyes again. "Fred, stop staring."
"I'm not." He said weakly. "How could you tell?"
Rebecca grinned, her eyes closed again. "I just can." Fred occupied himself with alternating between looking at the pictures from the tattered Quidditch Weekly George was looking through and Rebecca. He was still certain that this was a mistake.
Rebecca had tried to keep her thoughts on the World Cup as long as she could, asking who would win and how--by how much and in what manner. She hadn't ever tried to see anything before and hoped this would guide any premonition that could come.
*******************************************
Rebecca looked around, finding herself somewhere dark. There were bits of green and red that would flash by her intermittently, sometimes only inches away from her. Rebecca closed her eyes and focused, trying to make whatever she was seeing more clear.
"I must be on the pitch." She thought as a set of rings across the way were visible as the image sharpened.
It wasn't like watching a match, not really. The players moved slowly and skipped large gaps of space. It was almost as if Rebecca was seeing a collection of muggle photos that had been put together.
The pitch she was on was plunged into darkness for a moment, Rebecca now seeing what was happening in the air when she could see once more. The audience around the pitch was frozen in time, the players stuck in their movements but no longer moving.
Two things were evident to Rebecca in the moment.
One, Ireland had 170 points and Bulgaria 160. Two, Viktor Krum held the snitch.
Everything began to fade away slowly as what she had asked was answered.
*******************************************
Fred gave up any and all pretense of preoccupation when Rebecca had finally fallen entirely asleep. He watched her carefully for any signs of danger, though he didn't really know what he was looking for.
"You look any harder, you'll hurt your eyes." George chastised quietly, not looking away from his magazine.
Fred scoffed, turning on George. "Aren't you even worried?"
George shushed Fred and looked around the room to make sure his outburst hadn't woken up the others who had fallen asleep shortly after Rebecca had. "Be quiet!" George only saw Ron stir slightly and waited until he had stilled to continue. "I understand that you're worried Fred, but don't even dare--not for a single bloody second--to think I'm not. I don't understand this any better than you do; why she sees anything or how. Truth of the matter is, you're the one who is so dead set against taking her up on a loan."
Fred turned away from George, not liking that everything he had said was true.
"Then there's the other option." George continued. "That's that you don't have faith in her abilities and I do."
"Of course I do!" Fred argued, angry at even the insinuation that he didn't.
"Then act it." George looked back to Rebecca's now-wrinkled brow, watching as her eyes flitted under her eyelids. George saw an opportunity and seized it. "Did you hear Hermione earlier?"
"About what?" Fred asked.
"Apparently we need dress robes this year!" George watched Fred out of the corner of his eye for any reaction. "How absurd!"
"Why would we need dress robes?" Fred asked curiously, welcoming the distraction.
George shrugged and had opened his mouth to speculate when Rebecca sat up quickly, her hands shooting to the sides of her head.
"Bloody fucking hell!" She whispered, her head thumping ferociously.
Fred rolled over George and swung himself off the top of the bed, going to Rebecca's and putting his elbows over the guardrail. "Rebecca?"
Her eyes were still closed and tears were welling under them as her head continued to throb. The pain slowly abated from the earth-shattering level it had been at the second she had woken up. "It's my head, it feels like my brain-" She couldn't finish her sentence as the pain rebounded, skyrocketing to the level it had been at before.
Fred pulled himself up onto her bed, holding his hands over Rebecca's so that his enveloped her own. Fred and George looked at each other in horror as she was rendered immobile from the pain. Fred took to rubbing small circles into the backs of her hands with his thumbs, waiting for whatever had hold of her to loosen its grip.
It took minutes, long, horrible minutes, but eventually the pain settled to a manageable ache and did not rise again. Rebecca slid her hands out from under Fred's, wiping at the stray tears on her cheeks. "That was new."
"I'll say." George muttered, holding Rebecca's glasses out for her. Rebecca turned in her bed so that her back was against the wall, holding her glasses in her hand instead of putting them on just yet. A small, weak smile held steadily at the corners of her mouth. "You know?" George asked gingerly.
"I think so." Rebecca chewed at the inside of her lip. "I've never looked for an answer like this before and I don't-"
"Whatever you saw is good enough for us." Fred said confidently. "You have our full and complete trust."
"That's a lot of pressure." Rebecca said before sliding her glasses over the bridge of her nose and nodding. "It was like other times, a little. I could only see moments, pictures instead of a film. Does that make sense?" Fred and George nodded. "But the match...I think the match is going to end with Ireland winning but Krum catching the snitch."
George took a sharp breath. "Really? Bulgaria's done so well this season." Fred listened as George asked questions about any other details she might had seen, willing his heart to slow all the while.
*******************************************
Fred, Rebecca, and George took it upon themselves to set tea up while the others began waking from their rests. Cups were laid out and snacks as well, Molly had packed biscuits aplenty.
There was a crack from outside as Bill apparated in time to prepare for the match, tins of green and white paints in his pockets. The tent slowly began to climb in motion as everyone rushed to do something to get ready for the match.
Rebecca, still feeling the consequences, leaned against the counter and held her tea between both hands, sipping from it slowly. The kitchen was the quietest room in the tent, she thought, and it was a greatly appreciated fact.
"Does it still hurt?" Fred asked as he took a spot across from her after locating his tea. He couldn't participate in the cheer across the tent when he thought she was off by herself suffering.
"It's mostly gone." Rebecca wasn't lying, not entirely. It had most certainly lessened from the level it was at before. "It's like a headache hangover, residual discomfort." They were quiet a moment before Rebecca continued. "It was horrible but, at the same time, I kind of want to see if it was correct."
Fred took a long sip from his tea before asking what had been nagging at him ever since he saw the agony go through her. "You're not going to do it again, are you?"
Rebecca looked at him a long moment, trying to come up with a careful response. "I don't know. I guess it'll depend if I'm right. In the span of my life, I'll probably end up doing it again thought--Willingly or not."
Fred sighed. "This is going to come out wrong but I promise I don't mean it that way. Okay?" Rebecca nodded for him to go on. "Don't. Do it again, I mean. Not for silly things like wagers and quidditch. Not when we don't know what it's costing you to do this and when it..." He took his own moment for recollection. "Not when it hurts you."
Rebecca knew that what he was saying was right and that it all came from a place of caring, but she still felt a little hurt. "I think I'll be able to tell my limits."
Fred looked into the bottom of his teacup, swirling the last few drops as they moved the dregs. He thought he saw a sloppy R in the leaves. "I know. I know you don't need me to say any of this b-but when you woke up and your head hurt so badly you could hardly move, I couldn't do anything. There was nothing and-This was just for something in a few hours! We don't know what will happen if you looked farther, asked more of the future. We don't know anything!"
"No, you don't know anything!" Rebecca snapped. "I'm the one that has to be drugged asleep each night, not you. I'm the one who hurt this afternoon, not you." She put her teacup behind her on the counter. "You say all this like you're doing it because you care about me, but really it just seems like you don't trust me or you think I'm not smart enough to make the right decision. Both of those are pretty poor options, Fred."
She left him in the kitchen, bumping into Charlie and Bill in the hallway. Fred looked at the R in his cup once more before rinsing their cups and putting it with the others, sitting down to drown his sorrows in the heaping plate of leftover biscuits.
"Knock, knock." Bill said at the entryway, leading he and Charlie to the other side of the table.
"So..." Charlie started, wanting Fred to start the conversation.
"It's nothing." Fred said between slow, sad bites. "Just me being a bloody idiot."
We already knew that, but why specifically in this situation?" Bill asked, causing Charlie to punch him in the shoulder. "He said it!" Bill hissed in defence.
Fred put his half-eaten biscuit back on the plate and let his head fall to the table with a thump. "I'm an idiot because I couldn't not talk."
"Yeah, that happens sometimes." Bill and Charlie looked at each other before looking back to their younger brother. "What're you going to do about it now?"
"I'm not sure." Fred looked to his brothers for guidance. "Do you two have any ideas?"
"Nope."
"Not a one. Good luck though!" They left as quickly as they'd entered, leaving a very-confused Fred behind. "Well, maybe one." Charlie whispered, leaning back through the doorway and tossing something shiny to Fred.
"This would be a start." Fred said to himself, reading the label to the green face paint.
*******************************************
Despite the fact that the tent was only so big, Fred had a difficult time locating Rebecca. He had to evade George's running from Ginny with half of his face bright white, a devilish look in Ginny's eyes with another tub of green.
He had to avoid the interrogation happening between Harry and Ron on one side and Hermione on the other, the source of the issue being that Hermione had returned from outside of the tent with a Bulgaria scarf. "You can't wear that!" Ron nearly shouted.
"Where'd you even get it anyway?" Harry asked, finding that he got no answer and Fred slipped between them without notice.
Peeking his head into the room with all of the bunks, Fred found Rebecca pulling a jumper out of her bag and setting it aside to bring to the match. She noticed him lingering at the doorway and looked at him blankly. "I don't have anything else to say."
Fred held out the tin, shrugging. "No talking needed. Just a good ol' 'I-can-be-an-idiot' face painting."
Rebecca's smile showed for a moment before she was able to catch it and hide it. She moved her jumper so Fred could sit on the bottom bunk and she took the paint without a word. Rebecca took a fingerful and put it on his cheek in a large clump, rubbing it in and around until had spread as far as it would. Fred watched and did as she instructed, closing his eyes when necessary and lifting his hair. When she was done, Fred looked up to her and asked her to wait a moment.
"I never, never meant it to sound like I thought you couldn't make a smart decision." Fred's voice was soft, but layered with truth. "And I couldn't have meant that I didn't trust you--That'd be impossible."
Rebecca brushed his hair off his forehead with her clean hand and nodded, hearing what he was saying.
"I just-I don't think I was ready to see you hurting like that." Fred admitted.
"Trust me," Rebecca sighed. "It's not something I particularly enjoyed either. I wouldn't choose to do it for fun. But, if the need arises, I'll do it. That's all. I know that you only said something because you care." Rebecca took her hand from his face and gave him a little smile. They both knew that they were okay. "And it's because I care about you that I can't possibly imagine you going to the match unbalanced that I'm doing this."
Fred's eyes widened as he realised what Rebecca was going to do. "No!"
"Ginny?" Rebecca called loudly. "Fred needs the other side done!"
*******************************************
"Time to go!" Arthur stood directly outside of the tent, waving as Cedric and Amos joined him. The kids poured out from where they had been meandering about and lined up. Arthur took a double-back at how vividly Fred and George's faces were painted, but expected nothing less from them.
"Ron, Ginny, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Harry, Rebecca, Fred, George, Hermione. Is that everyone?" Arthur shouted into the tent. "Only me then!" Arthur laughed.
"Arthur!" A familiar voice called from behind the kids as they began to walk.
"Ludo!" Arthur called back, shaking hands and thanking him once more for the tickets. "Let me introduce you to a few newer faces."
"No need, chap." Ludo grinned. "We met at the water station earlier. In fact, I have some business to attend to." Ludo stepped around Ginny and between Harry and Ron, stopping in front of the three poker-faced wager-makers. "Have you lot decided on your stakes?" "Love an easy win, yes I do."
George looked to Rebecca who nodded and then turned to Fred, giving him the final go-ahead. "Yes, we're ready. Ireland will win but Krum will catch the snitch. Final score 170-160."
Ludo shook his head, trying to give them an out. "All pre-match predictions show Ireland has a minimal chance at-"
Fred interrupted the man and held his hand out to shake on their bet. "That's our wager, take it or leave it."
Ludo didn't know if he was impressed by the confidence of the young adults or excited at his prospects of victory over them. "Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you though." He shook all three of their hands.
Arthur cornered them. He'd overheard the word 'wager.' "Tell me I didn't hear what I thought I did. What have you gotten yourselves into?"
"We can't tell you what you didn't hear if we don't know what you thought you heard." Rebecca mused.
"Don't worry." George reassured Arthur. "We won't lose. Intuition."
"'Intuit-" Arthur realised what his son was alluding to and turned on Rebecca. "Tell me you didn't risk health over some gold!"
Cedric glanced over at the group walking behind the rest, hearing the rise in Arthur's voice.
"No health harmed." Rebecca smoothed. "Shall we continue?"
Arthur ran his hand down his face and ran over the facts. Truth was, all of them seemed just as they had been when they had arrived. There was no physical harm done to any of them as far as he could tell. "Molly had better not hear a word about this, understand?"
They all nodded, finding that that worked perfectly for them.
Cedric excused himself from the conversation he was in ahead and made his way to the back, eager to share his speculations on the match with Rebecca. George, however, had already seen his twin rather downtrodden at the monopolisation of her and he couldn't bear to see it twice in one day--George leapt forward and took Cedric hostage in a never ending stream of conversation.
Fred took the opportunity to tut at Rebecca disappointedly. "You can't go in like that. Can't even tell who you're supporting!" He took a swipe green and white from his heavily painted cheeks and had her stop and face him. Leaving two lines across her cheeks, one side for each colour, Fred grinned. "Much better."
By the time they caught up to the others, the had reached the bottom of the stairs that seemed to stretch as far as they could see up. "I'd like to level with you, Fred." Rebecca punned, pointing at the stairs disappearing under the marching pace the wizards climbing had taken to.
"Really?" Fred chuckled. "I'd like to reach a new level of understanding."
They laughed and continued to exchange height and stair related puns, George occupying Cedric all the while.
"So there we are and I'm like 'oh hell, we better hit this bludger towards this bloke' when this other guy swings in--or maybe it was a girl--I don't know...anyway, we hit the bludger so hard..."
Cedric nodded when he was supposed to and laughed when he was expected to, really listening to the antics Fred and Rebecca were getting up to behind them as they laughed harder and harder at their increasingly absurd plays on words.
*******************************************
Author's note:
Will be continued in the next chapter--we're already at nearly 7k words this half alone!
<3