Coup de Foudre [Fred Weasley] [4]

⚡️ Chapter 5 ⚡️

"Three... two... one...!"

Immediately, Vega felt her feet part from the ground but she simply held onto the Portkey. It was one of her least favourite methods of travel – she always preferred Apparation with someone of age, the broomstick or even the Floo Network. Portkey was too bulky and dangerous in case you fell.

An example of its danger was that, as Vega was currently between Hermione and Ginny, she could feel their shoulders bumping into hers as they all spun around like a merry-go-round. It wasn't fun.

They were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour that is until Vega's feet found the ground and she expertly kept her balance as she moved away from the Portkey, feeling tired.

In front of her, Ron went staggering into Harry – and both of them toppled over together. The Portkey itself landed onto the ground near the two idiots with a loud and heavy thud, missing them.

Everyone but Vega, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory and Cedric were currently lounging on the ground.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,"

"Are you guys okay?" Vega asked her friends as she reached to pull them all back onto their feet one by one. "Fred, if you try anything, I'm going to hex you,"

"You got it," Fred replied, grinning as he grabbed onto her outstretched hand and allowed her to help him onto his feet but not before annoying her by tugging at her –

"Fred!" Vega warned, causing him to laugh and her to begrudging smile, too. "Come on, hurry,"

"Alright, alright," Fred said as he got up, and Vega turned to see George looking at them wearily while the last of them, Harry and Ron, had disentangled themselves from each other and got up.

The Weasleys, Diggorys, as well as Vega, Harry and Hermione had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards.

One of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho. Muggle fashion was... ever-changing.

"Morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him.

There were all sorts of things: such as old newspapers, empty drink cans and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," Basil said wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some.... We've been here all night.... You'd better get out of the way; we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite.... Weasley ... Weasley...."

Basil consulted his parchment list for a while.

"About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to," Basil informed Mr. Weasley. "Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr. Payne,"

"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley replied, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view.

Beyond it, Vega could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. She was intrigued by foreigners.