Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Дж. К. Роулинг

downstairs into the kitchen.

      Mrs Weasley was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Mr Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as the boys entered, and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing jumper and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

      ‘What d’you think?’ he asked anxiously. ‘We’re supposed to go incognito – do I look like a Muggle, Harry?’

      ‘Yeah,’ said Harry, smiling, ‘very good.’

      ‘Where’re Bill and Charlie and Per – Per – Percy?’ said George, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

      ‘Well, they’re Apparating, aren’t they?’ said Mrs Weasley, heaving the large pot over to the table and starting to ladle porridge into bowls. ‘So they can have a bit of a lie-in.’

      Harry knew that Apparating was very difficult; it meant disappearing from one place and reappearing almost instantly in another.

      ‘So they’re still in bed?’ said Fred grumpily, pulling his bowl of porridge towards him. ‘Why can’t we Apparate, too?’

      ‘Because you’re not of age and you haven’t got your test,’ snapped Mrs Weasley. ‘And where have those girls got to?’

      She bustled out of the kitchen and they heard her climbing the stairs.

      ‘You have to pass a test to Apparate?’ Harry asked.

      ‘Oh yes,’ said Mr Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a licence. It’s not easy, Apparition, and when it’s not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I’m talking about went and splinched themselves.’

      Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

      ‘Er – splinched?’ said Harry.

      ‘They left half of themselves behind,’ said Mr Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. ‘So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn’t move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they’d left behind …’

      Harry had a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive.

      ‘Were they OK?’ he asked, startled.

      ‘Oh yes,’ said Mr Weasley matter-of-factly. ‘But they got a heavy fine, and I don’t think they’ll be trying it again in a hurry. You don’t mess around with Apparition. There are plenty of adult wizards who don’t bother with it. Prefer brooms – slower, but safer.’

      ‘But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?’

      ‘Charlie had to take the test twice,’ said Fred, grinning. ‘He failed first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?’

      ‘Yes, well, he passed second time,’ said Mrs Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

      ‘Percy only passed two weeks ago,’ said George. ‘He’s been Apparating downstairs every morning since, just to prove he can.’

      There were footsteps down the passageway and Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen, both looking pale and drowsy.

      ‘Why do we have to be up so early?’ Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

      ‘We’ve got a bit of a walk,’ said Mr Weasley.

      ‘Walk?’ said Harry. ‘What, are we walking to the World Cup?’

      ‘No, no, that’s miles away,’ said Mr Weasley, smiling. ‘We only need to walk a short way. It’s just that it’s very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup —’

      ‘George!’ said Mrs Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

      ‘What?’ said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

      ‘What is that in your pocket?’

      ‘Nothing!’

      ‘Don’t you lie to me!’

      Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at George’s pocket and said, ‘Accio!’

      Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George’s pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs Weasley’s outstretched hand.

      ‘We told you to destroy them!’ said Mrs Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakeably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. ‘We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!’

      It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs Weasley managed to find them all.

      ‘Accio! Accio! Accio!’ she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George’s jacket and the turn-ups of Fred’s jeans.

      ‘We spent six months developing those!’ Fred shouted at his mother, as she threw the toffees away.

      ‘Oh, a fine way to spend six months!’ she shrieked. ‘No wonder you didn’t get more O.W.Ls!’

      All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they made their departure. Mrs Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

      ‘Well, have a lovely time,’ said Mrs Weasley, ‘and behave yourselves,’ she called after the twins’ retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. ‘I’ll send Bill, Charlie and Percy along around midday,’ Mrs Weasley said to Mr Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

      It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Harry, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding towards the Quidditch World Cup, sped up to walk with Mr Weasley.

      ‘So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?’ he asked.

      ‘It’s been a massive organisational problem,’ sighed Mr Weasley. ‘The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up to the World Cup, and of course we just haven’t got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can’t penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry’s been working on it for months. Firstly, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can’t have too many clogging up their buses and trains – remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there’s a handy wood they’re using as the Apparition point. For those who don’t want to Apparate, or can’t, we use Portkeys. They’re objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that’s where we’re headed.’

      Mr Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St Catchpole.

      ‘What sort of objects are Portkeys?’ said Harry curiously.

      ‘Well,