𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊, born to Lyra Potter and Regulus Black, is Harry's older cousin, 1/3 of the Prankers Trio and niece to mass murderer Sirius Black.
Life at Hogwarts was fun, relaxing and normal. That's until her younger cousin sho...
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chapter eight : naps on the couch
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Tonks woke June up after only a few hours' sleep. While Arthur used magic to pack up the tents, Juniper and Liam left to look for the Creeveys. They found them soon enough and with a hug, they said their goodbyes before each going back to their own tents. Once June hoisted her backpack onto her back, 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," Arthur said 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 gathering around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible.
Arthur 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!"
Molly, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard with Andromeda and Ted, 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 Arthur's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Juniper saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, completed with a twinkling, black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the tree-tops.
"You're all right," Molly muttered distractedly, releasing Arthur 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!" Molly 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.L.s? Oh, Fred . . . George . . ."
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly OK," Arthur said 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 . . ."
