The Scars to Prove It

As they were getting dressed, Farren noticed Carina glancing at her and fighting to hide a smile.

"What?" Farren asked, suspicious of her friend’s overly cheerful demeanor at the wee hour of the morning.

"Oh, nothing," Carina replied, brushing out her long dark hair.

Farren narrowed her eyes at her friend and waited until she left the bathroom to scour her reflection in the mirror. There wasn't any drool or toothpaste on her face, and her skin hadn't changed to an unfortunate color without her notice. Not finding anything, Farren exited the bathroom. But if she lengthened her hair a bit more, just enough to hide her face is she so chose, who was going to notice?

A few minutes later, nearly everyone was crowded around the breakfast table. It made for a very tight fit. Many an elbow and knee ended up mashed together. Farren was seated between Fred and Carina and only thought it a little strange that Fred bumped her more often than Carina. He's got longer limbs, she thought. But she tried not the think about his long leg pressed warm against hers. Or how nice it felt.

"Mum," Ron whined as Mrs. Weasley bustled around the kitchen, "why do we have to get up so early? And how come Bill, Charlie, and Percy don't have to?"

"You know very well that the portkey is bit of a ways away. And your brothers are old enough to disapparate."

Harry looked up from his toast, confused. "What's a portkey? And disapparation?"

Mr. Weasley chose that moment to enter the kitchen and took it upon himself to answer. "Disapparation is moving from one place to another simply by magic. You visualize yourself somewhere and moments later, there you are! A portkey is a magical mode of transportation. It works like disapparation, but is a tiny bit safer and works well for groups. You simply grab hold of the enchanted object, the portkey, at the designated time and off you go. You lot are too young to disapparate, so the portkey it is for us."
"What's a portkey look like?" Harry asked.

"It's usually something unassuming. Something muggles wouldn't pick up by mistake. It's, uh, what's the word. . ."

"It's litter," said Farren, swallowing her last sip of tea and frowning at the bottom of the cup.

Harry nodded in understanding. The conversation at the other end of the table continued but was drowned out by George's laugh at Farren's disappointment. She reached for the pot when Mrs. Weasley startled.

"Oh, look at the time, you all must be off or you'll miss it."

Her exclamation prompted a flurry of motion, looking very chaotic in the cramped kitchen. People shrugged on coats and searched for bags. Hermione's bag was found under a table and Carina's tattered coat had somehow been stuffed between the sofa cushions. Farren made a mental note to buy her friend a new one for Christmas. Or maybe Halloween.

Right as everyone was walking on the door, George's shirt snagged on a chair and he toppled over. Farren and Carina burst into peals of laughter, but it was soon cut short when Mrs. Weasley saw what had fallen out of her son's pocket.

"Accio," she called as George attempted to snatch the small object back up. It landed neatly in her hand and she studied it for a moment before shouting. "What is this? Is this another one of your foolish jokes? The same candy you gave that poor muggle boy?"

George opened his mouth, presumably in an attempt to deny, but before he could even get a word out, his mother was summoning all of the joke candies off his person. Fred's as well.

“How is it that you only managed six OWLs between you but can make these ridiculous, not to mention, dangerous sweets?!? Is this what you did all year when you could have been studying?!?” screamed a furious Mrs. Weasley who was now piling sweets on the table next to her. When the twins’ seemingly endless supply ran dry, Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at the pile on the table and the sweets promptly lit themselves on fire.

“Mum!” shouted Fred.

“What are you doing?!?” exclaimed George.

“That was our entire supply!”
“All of our money!”

Mrs. Weasley glared. “You boys had best hope that’s all of it. If I find any more hidden in your room. . .”

Before his wife could continue with anymore threats, Mr. Weasley interrupted. “We really should be going, Molly, dear,” he said as he shepherded everyone out the door.