Rainstorm on September 1

The Quidditch World Cup had begun with great fanfare but ended in chaos. The revelry of the Death Eaters and the ominous Dark Mark that lit up the night sky struck fear into the hearts of many. Joey stared wide-eyed at the black snake coiling in the air, her face pale. People screamed and ran past her, but she stood frozen, unable to utter a sound. For the first time, she truly felt how close Voldemort was to her life, and the thought of Fred's impending death loomed large in her mind.

Bill and Charlie had taken Ginny away, while George and Flami had been swept away by the panicked crowd. Fred called Joey's name several times, but she didn't respond. Seeing her distress, he understood what was going through her mind. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms and said firmly, "Don't look. I'm alive and well, right here!"

Joey clung to Fred tightly, her voice trembling. "I'm scared…" She trusted Dumbledore to handle the situation, but what if the future couldn't be changed? The fear was overwhelming.

"What's there to be scared of? Didn't we say we'd live together in a tapestry if it came to that?" Fred said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, we should find someone to paint us! What do you think? I'll wear a suit, and you can wear a wedding dress. How about it?"

His words successfully diverted her attention, and the two of them began discussing their imaginary portrait under the ominous Dark Mark. It was a testament to their shared resilience and ability to find humor even in the darkest moments.

When they finally returned to the Burrow, Molly and Linda rushed over, tears streaming down their faces. They checked each child carefully, ensuring everyone was safe and sound. Only then did they allow themselves to relax.

Harry had been retrieved by Arthur after a tense encounter with Mr. Crouch, who had interrogated him about the Dark Mark. Despite Harry's insistence that a lame man had cast the spell, Mr. Crouch remained suspicious. Arthur was furious, feeling that Harry had been insulted, but Percy staunchly defended Mr. Crouch's actions.

"Mr. Crouch is just being thorough! The Dark Mark was cast from Harry's wand, as confirmed by the Priori Incantatem spell. It's only natural that he'd suspect Harry!" Percy's argument nearly earned him a punch from Ron.

No one sided with Percy, not even Ryan, who usually got along well with him. Ryan calmly pointed out, "To convict someone, you need a chain of evidence, both human and material. Mr. Crouch seems to have assumed Harry's guilt from the start, which isn't fair. Besides, Harry has no motive or ability to cast the Dark Mark. It's clear Mr. Crouch is overreacting."

Ron cheered Ryan on, shouting, "Exactly! That's it!"

Percy, visibly upset that Ryan had contradicted him, glared at his friend before storming upstairs, muttering, "I can't talk to you people!"

Joey, still curious, turned to Harry. "If the man was lame, why didn't the Ministry catch him? He couldn't have run far on one leg, right?"

"That's a great point! That's what Crouch should be focusing on!" Ron chimed in, ever the loyal defender of Harry.

Harry smiled gratefully at his friends, their support easing his earlier panic and frustration. He recalled the figure he'd seen in the fog and said quietly, "I think someone was helping him. He disappeared suddenly, like he was under an invisibility cloak."

"Enough of this talk, children!" Molly interjected, waving her wand to summon a row of steaming mugs of tea. "Drink up and get some rest. These are matters for the adults to handle."

"Ryan, Joey, Flami, don't burn yourselves. We'll head home after this," Linda said, her eyes still red but her voice steady.

---

The Ministry of Magic worked quickly to downplay the Dark Mark incident, and *The Daily Prophet* shifted its focus to lighter topics, such as the eccentric behavior of retired Auror Alastor Moody. Rita Skeeter's article mocked Moody for allegedly cursing his trash can, suspecting it to be a Death Eater in disguise.

"Nonsense!" Luther, who rarely visited, threw the newspaper into the fireplace. "Alastor is one of the best Aurors England has ever seen! Those scars are medals from his battles!"

"Why is he scary?" Joey asked, intrigued.

"You'll see soon enough," Luther replied with a mysterious smile.

---

Joey's curiosity was soon satisfied as she watched the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor limp into the Great Hall. Alastor Moody's appearance was indeed intimidating—his magical eye spun in its socket, and his face was a patchwork of scars. The students whispered among themselves, some laughing at the rumors about his fight with a trash can.

"Moody's leg seems worse than before!"

"Probably hurt himself battling the trash can!"

The Weasley twins and Ron greeted Moody warmly, though his gruff smile did little to ease the tension. Joey noticed Cedric Diggory watching the new professor with keen interest.

Dumbledore introduced Moody to the students, his tone lighthearted. "This is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor Moody. Let's hope he lasts longer than his predecessors! Also, our caretaker Filch has retired, but Sirius Black has kindly lent us his house-elf, Kreacher, to assist."

Kreacher appeared, struggling with a large, battered trunk. Moody's magical eye fixed on the elf. "That's Bellatrix and Regulus Black's elf, isn't it?"

"Now he's Sirius's elf, and you can trust him," Dumbledore assured.

Moody nodded, and Kreacher disappeared with the trunk, leaving the students buzzing with curiosity.

"Kreacher agreed to leave Sirius's house?" Joey asked Harry in disbelief. "Did they have another fight?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably. Sirius couldn't stand his nagging anymore."

"At least he won't be pulling our braids," Fred said cheerfully. "This year's going to be fun!"

Dumbledore's voice cut through the chatter as he announced the cancellation of the Quidditch season due to the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. The hall erupted in excitement, though the age restriction of seventeen drew groans from the younger students.

"Aging potion will fix that," Fred whispered to Joey, who nodded eagerly.

"Let's start brewing tonight!" she said.

Fred kissed her forehead. "Your best support is to do nothing."

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. "Aging potions won't work," she muttered, but Fred and Joey were already lost in their plans.

The Triwizard Tournament promised to be the most exciting event of the year, and Joey was determined to be part of it—no matter what it took.