Magic? || Years 1-5

Durmstrang: Year 4/Summer

Amisty tapped the wolf on the head, throwing the crumpled piece of parchment into the bin as she watched the the tiny glass wolf transform back into the shiny wooden box.

She tucked it away in her pocket, walking with Hermione up to their shared room.

"Mrs. Weasley got all our supplies for us, all your's is on your bed," The brunette informed her, still slightly peeved with the argument downstairs.

They set to work, unwrapping everything in the bags and tucking them away into their trunks. She took care in wrapping up her new quills and ink, not wanting them to break on the way to Hogwarts.

Just as she was about to pack up her potion supplies, Mrs. Weasley knocked on the door and walked in with a pile of folded laundry and a package.

"Here's your Hogwarts robes," She smiled at them, separating the clothes into two piles and setting them on their beds. "Hermione, I know you've already bought your dress with your parents. Amisty, your father sent yours this morning."

"What?" Amisty asked, looking up in confusion.

"Your dress. It was your mother's," Mrs. Weasley replied gently, pressing the package into her hands.

"Oh..." Amisty's voice was faint, she couldn't entirely process what was happening.

Mrs. Weasley gave her a tight, reassuring hug before excusing herself to go give the boys their robes.

"Am, are you okay?" Hermione asked hesitantly, looking over her stack of books at her raven-haired friend.

"Never better," Amisty beamed, staring down at the paper-wrapped package in her hands.

-=+=-

The next morning was rather gloomy, rain pounding against the windows as the girls changed into casual clothes.

Amisty did a last minute check of her trunk before hurrying downstairs, her stomach grumbling when --

"Arthur! Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!" Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs, looking stressed. Mr. Weasley flew past, his robes on backward as he raced toward the kitchen.

She hesitantly followed after him, walking into the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley tearing through the drawers and Mr. Weasley leaning over the fire and talking to... the head of Mr. Diggory.

"I've got a quill here somewhere!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed from where she was standing.

"...Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems -- please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there -- " Mr. Diggory was speaking, his voice very fast.

"Here!" Mrs. Weasley shoved a piece of parchment, quill, and bottle of ink into Mr. Weasley's hands.

" -- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it. I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off -- if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur -- "

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" Mr. Weasley asked, quill poised to begin taking notes.

"Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins," Mr. Diggory replied, rolling his eyes.

"What did the dustbins do?" Mr. Weasley asked, the sound of the quill scratching feverishly reaching Amisty's ears.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell. Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up -- " Mr. Diggory continued.