Bloodline | Harry Potter x Reader [DISCONTINUED]

Fourth Year~Chapter Six

Third Person POV

Mr Weasley woke them after only a few hours' sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague 'Merry Christmas'.

'He'll be all right,' said Mr Weasley quietly, as they marched off onto the moor. 'Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disorientated for a while ... and that was a big thing they had to make him forget.'

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay and, when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible.

Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tyre back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St Catchpole towards The Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner in the lane, and The Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the damp lane.

'Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!'

Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running towards them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a screwed-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. 'Arthur – I've been so worried – so worried –'

She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, (Y/N) saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling, black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the tree-tops.

'You're all right,' Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, 'you're alive ... oh, boys ...'

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

'Ouch! Mum – you're strangling us –'

'I shouted at you before you left!' Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. 'It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.Ls? Oh, Fred ... George ...'

'Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly OK,' said Mr Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back towards the house. 'Bill,' he added in an undertone, 'pick up that paper, I want to see what it says ...'

'You're okay!' another voice had joined the large group.

Before Mr and Mrs Weasley had walked any further, (F/N) (L/N) was walking out of the front door of The Burrow. He was striding towards them, wearing his Auror robes. He looked around at everyone, as if checking that they were all there, then put an arm around (Y/N).

'Everything alright, then?' he asked. 'You're not hurt, are you?'

'You didn't have to come, Dad,' said (Y/N) embarrassedly. 'You need to be at work.'

'Don't be stupid,' said (F/N). 'What kind of father would I be if I didn't check on you after an incident like that?'

'You could have just written a letter,' said (Y/N). 'And it's not like anyone died. It'd be in the Daily Prophet if they had.'

'I would still be worried about my daughter if I hadn't been able to see her.'

'Stay for breakfast, (F/N),' sniffled Mrs Weasley. 'Surely you haven't had any yet?'