But it wasn't over that easily. Charlie won the third round, the snitch drifting by him while he and Harry were at opposite ends of the garden. The fourth round was extremely close, but Harry managed to just edge out in front.
"And that's 3-1 to Mr Harry Potter!" Bill announced over the cheering of their spectators. Charlie cursed, but he was smiling as he landed. "Bloody hell, Harry. That's impressive." They shook hands.
seriously
"You made it hard for me, though!" Harry insisted. "Considering you've not played a proper match since you graduated, wow."
Charlie chuckled. "You flatter me, but thank you. I suppose I'll just wait for you to call in your favour then, hmm?"
Harry had no idea what he might need the Weasley brother for, but it was always good to have options to call on. He put the snitch carefully back in its box, taking his Firebolt back from Charlie.
They were called in for dinner shortly after, and Harry left his broom in the hallway with the others, heading for the delicious scent of food coming from the kitchen.
"Oh, I hope they're home soon," Mrs Weasley fretted, looking from the two empty spots at the table to the clock in the corner that declared them to be at work. "Arthur hasn't had to work this much since the war."
All the kids shared uneasy glances. "I'm sure they'll be home in a bit, Mum," Bill soothed. "Probably just got held up chatting, you know what Dad's like."
Luckily at that minute, the hands moved from 'work' to 'travelling', and a pair of quiet pops heralded the arrival of the last two members of the family. Mr Weasley looked worn-out, greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek and sinking wearily into his chair. "Merlin, what a week," he sighed, shaking his head. "I'll be glad when this all blows over. It would've done ages ago if Skeeter didn't keep pushing those awful articles."
"At least it's getting people to take the search for Bertha Jorkins seriously," Percy pointed out. "Mr Crouch has been saying for weeks that someone needed to look for her." Behind his back, the twins fluttered their eyelashes and mock-swooned, mouthing 'Mr Crouch' over-dramatically. Harry sniggered into his stew.
"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," Mr Weasley retorted irritably. "And is probably just hoping it stays that way."
That set Hermione off about house elves, and Harry winced. He appreciated the sentiment, but she really needed to learn to research something properly before forming an opinion and mouthing off to anyone who would listen.
"Why don't you all go up and finish packing," Mrs Weasley cut in before Hermione could really get on her soapbox. "I put all your new school things in your rooms. Hermione, dear, I got that book you asked for. And I finished the laundry."
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said automatically, diverted from her tirade. For now. Everyone of Hogwarts age trudged upstairs, and Harry heard rain thundering against the windows. "Sounds like we finished flying just in time," he mused, heading up to Ron's room. All the twins' things were still in their room, which was housing Bill and Charlie for now. Except, of course, the bag full of Weasley's Wizards Wheezes stashed in Harry's trunk, just in case Mrs Weasley decided to do one last search.
Harry hadn't really unpacked since arriving, so repacking his things didn't take long once he'd ducked downstairs to go get his broom, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation the adults were having in the kitchen. Sirius had told him to stay out of it and let the adults handle things, and he was going to try his best to follow that.
When he returned to Ron's room, the redheaded boy was holding up what looked like a long maroon velvet dress, with mouldy-looking lace at the cuffs and collar. His face was a clear mask of disgust. "What the hell is this?"
Harry had a strong sense of foreboding as the answer popped into his mind. They all had dress robes on their school requirement list this year; Snape had said there was always some sort of formal event involved in the Triwizard Tournament. Harry had, with Remus' help, chosen a set of dark green robes with gold accents. He actually thought he looked quite dashing in them. Surely Mrs Weasley wasn't expecting Ron to wear that?
The woman in question knocked on the door, entering with a pile of freshly laundered school robes draped over her arm. "Here you are, Ron, dear. Harry, are you absolutely sure you don't want me to do yours as well? I can get them done tonight."
"It's fine, thanks, Mrs Weasley," Harry assured. Ceri had taken care of all his clothes before he'd left, including his robes and his new cloak.
"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress," Ron said, holding out the offending garment. Mrs Weasley confirmed that they were indeed Ron's dress robes, and Harry was torn between laughter and sympathy at the look on the redhead's face. "I had to get them second-hand, there wasn't a lot of choice," she snapped, flushing.
"I'm not wearing them!" Ron insisted hotly. "I'd rather go starkers."
"Fine. Harry, make sure you get a picture; I could do with a good laugh." Mrs Weasley stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Ron threw the dress robes at his open trunk, making an angry noise.
Harry left him to sulk, slipping out of the room and heading downstairs to see what the twins were up to. "What's going on upstairs, then?" Fred asked as Harry shut the door behind him. Harry grimaced.
"Ron just found his new dress robes. They're… not pretty." He glanced over at the wardrobe, where two sets of dress robes that had to belong to the twins were hanging, ready to be packed. They were clearly second-hand, but still nicer than Ron's. Both in similar shades of dark purple, one with silver embroidery around the cuffs and hem, the other with bronze piping around the edge. Not a scrap of lace in sight.
"Poor Ronnikins," George mock-sighed, shaking his head. "So hard done by. He should've sucked up his pride and agreed to borrow Bill's old dress robes, like Mum offered before you got here. He said they were too girly."
"They had a little bit of pink on them," Fred elaborated, rolling his eyes. "Pretty snazzy otherwise, if you ask me. I'd have worn them if Bill wasn't so bloody tall."
Harry snickered; maybe Mrs Weasley had bought the frilly robes on purpose, after all.
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