Chapter 71: 1-2

After sliding and tumbling down the hole with a whoosh, the first person to catch me was Harry. Behind him, the culprit twins were waiting, unable to hide the excitement on their faces. I patted Harry's back while giving them a thumbs-up with my free hand. They returned it with dazzling smiles and two thumbs-ups of their own.

"My, my! Welcome, Harry, Maria!"

We received a warm hug from Mother Molly, who had popped her head out from the kitchen. Her overflowing affection made my heart tickle. Watching this, the eldest and second sons of the Weasley family finished their introductory greetings to Harry and me. Ginny and Hermione also came out from the back, and just as the fireplace area became lively, a furious Uncle Arthur returned.

"Fred! That goes way beyond a joke—ah, no, um..."

"...What about Fred?"

Uncle Arthur, who had immediately singled out Fred, trailed off the moment he caught sight of his wife.

"Molly, it's nothing. Yes, right—nothing at all."

"What were you going to say about Fred, Arthur?"

"Now, now... Molly, dear..."

"Arthur."

Sensing the impending outbreak of a marital quarrel, we quickly exchanged glances and evacuated to Ron's room on the second floor. Ginny, who had grown especially attached to me, clung tightly to my arm, which made me incredibly happy. My ex-wife is just so cute.

"What are Fred and George up to?"

Hermione and Ron answered Harry's question. They were talking about the WWW project. The twins' flair for business was the real deal.

...As expected, the proprietors of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had to be those two.

Once the argument downstairs concluded, it was time for dinner. Mother Molly's proud feast was laid out on a large, makeshift table set up in the garden. It was Harry's first time experiencing a garden party.

Having been forced to play along with Dudley's diet, staving off starvation with hoarded emergency rations just like last year, along with food parcels from our friends and our godfather, this was absolute heaven for us. I mean, the food was piping hot! We no longer had to worry about Post Owls taking a nibble drawn by the smell, or carefully saving pot soup that had gone completely cold from its journey through the wind and rain.

As everyone chatted freely about their favorite topics around the food, a certain name jumped into my ears.

—Bertha Jorkins. They were saying Bertha Jorkins had gone missing.

Instantly, all voices faded from my ears except for the two discussing her.

This time as well, Bertha Jorkins was probably... Which meant the murdered person Harry saw in his dream was—

"Maria? Did you get something you don't like?"

Ginny, who was sitting next to me happily chatting, tilted her head in confusion.

"Hm? No. We hardly have any likes or dislikes. We're just desperate to get our hands on a decent meal."

"Oh. That's good then... You just had a really complicated look on your face. Like the one I get when I eat Uncle Bilius's bean paste. The bean paste he makes tastes like vomit. Oh, keep that a secret from Mum, okay? But I bet Mum definitely thinks so too."

I couldn't help but laugh at her harsh review of an uncle I didn't even know by face. Ginny looked relieved.

"I thought my story was boring you."

"No way! If I get to talk with Ginny, I could listen to you badmouth Uncle Bilius all day."

"Ara, how smooth. You really love me, don't you, Maria?"

"And you really love me too, don't you, Ginny?"

"You know me so well."

As we leaned in close and giggled together, the twin brothers sitting opposite us jeered, "You two better start buttering up the future Minister for Magic, Lord Percy, right now, or you won't be allowed a same-sex marriage! Whoops, or will Perce and Mr. Crouch's engagement come first?" Percy, who was suddenly dragged into it, rolled his eyes in shock.

Dinner moved on to dessert, and after we polished off Mother Molly's homemade strawberry ice cream, the children were shooed off to bed. Since we were heading to the Quidditch World Cup venue hidden from Muggles, waking up early was a must.

"Hey, Maria."

Hermione, Ginny, and I lay down on the bed, with Ginny in the middle. Hermione, just like in the dormitories, falls asleep incredibly fast. She was already in dreamland.

Ginny rolled over to face me, and after we stared at each other for a moment, she smiled softly.

"I'm really glad you're here, Maria."

"Why's that?"

"Because—you know? Don't you think being a trio is a little unfair? I mean Ron, Hermione, and... Harry, of course. It's already decided that it's just the three of them. Nobody else can ever fit in there. ...I'm jealous."

"Ginny..."

"But it's okay. Because when I'm lonely, you're right by my side. I have Maria. I have such a wonderful big sister. That's—so extravagant! Don't you think?"

To Ginny, who was buzzing with excitement with sparkling eyes despite keeping her voice down, I stroked her forehead just like I would with Harry. Ginny slowly narrowed her eyes like a slumbering cat.

"I love you, my big sister Maria."

"I love you too... my cute little sister."

I can no longer say my Ginny, though. —I love you, Ginevra.

The next day—though we hadn't slept enough to even call it the next day. The underage group, unable to Apparate, departed at the crack of dawn, led by Uncle Arthur. We climbed a small hill heading for the Portkey, scanning the ground under vague instructions to look for any inconspicuous rubbish. Eventually, a man's voice called out to Uncle Arthur from a little further ahead.

Suddenly, I felt a phantom ache where a scar shouldn't be.

—"How many people died for the Boy Who Lived?"

I could never forget the words he had thrust at me. Along with the final moments of Cedric Diggory.

I'm not good with him. He, who loudly proclaimed himself a victim, was aggressively righteous, brandishing his blade of justice.

"This is Amos Diggory. He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. You all know his son Cedric, right? I heard Maria is particularly close to him. Amos, these are my sons Fred, George, and Ron, and my only daughter, Ginny. This girl here is Ron's friend Hermione, the redhead who isn't ours is Maria, and this is—Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably as Amos's voice noticeably jumped in pitch. We could see his gaze blatantly dart toward the lightning-bolt scar.

"Ced's talked about you, of course. He told us all about the day he played against you... the day Ced beat Harry Potter!"

"Dad, that's enough, alright? It was an accident."

"What are you being so modest for! Our Cedric is a true gentleman, you see? Even though he beat the Harry Potter! Don't you agree, Maria?"

"Dad!"

"It's because you won't introduce me to your girlfriend already! A beauty like her would be perfect for Ced!"

"Maria isn't like that..."

Facing the Diggory family dynamic, which seemed to involve a massive misunderstanding while leaving Cho out of the picture entirely, I couldn't help but cast a sympathetic look at Cedric. "The Prince of Badgers has it rough too," and "This looks entertaining, someone go fetch the Snake Prince," were the remarks from the mischievous Weasley twins. Truly, they never fail to deliver.

"Amos, it's about time. Come on now, everyone gather 'round. You just need to touch the Portkey. A single finger is fine."

This time, the Portkey was a moldy old boot. We all stood in a circle, touched it, and waited one second, then two.

"Sorry about that, Maria," Cedric whispered beside me.

"I don't mind. The part about the 'beautiful girlfriend'—I mean, he's not wrong, is he?"

Realizing my implication, Cedric's ears turned bright red. ...I see, so that's why he absolutely couldn't introduce her to his parents. I'd bet my life on it, the day Cho meets Amos will be the day they announce their marriage.

The Portkey travel was instantaneous. The unaccustomed children were thrown to the ground in a heap. "How come you're still standing, Maria?" Harry grumbled, puffing his cheeks as he helped Ron up.

We handed the used Portkey to two exhausted-looking Ministry officials, and the Weasley party parted ways with the Diggorys, heading toward our designated campsite. —And there.

""Sirius!""

To our surprise, the Potter siblings' beloved godfather, Sirius Black, was waiting for us. Even though in his letters he had complained so much—no, lamented—about being cooped up in his reclaimed house until his safety was guaranteed, and how the Ministry was so thick-headed they wouldn't let him visit a Muggle home!

Surrounded by witches and wizards failing miserably at dressing like Muggles, he shone brighter than anyone else. With well-groomed, long black hair and a simple vest outfit, he looked incredibly smart; just standing there, he looked like the cover of a fashion magazine. Gilderoy Lockhart didn't even come close. Even Hermione, who had a bit of a fangirl streak for handsome men, was staring at Sirius with her eyes practically popping out of her head. —Oh! Even Ginny!

"Sirius, what are you doing here?"

"It's the Quidditch World Cup, isn't it? As if I'd miss it!"

"But I thought you couldn't leave the house until your safety was guaranteed?"

"With Ministry officials swarming everywhere, what's going to happen?"

Ah, Harry and I figured he must have sweet-talked his way past his "bodyguards," who were really just monitors in name only.

Uncle Arthur shook his hand awkwardly—until the false charges were cleared, he had firmly believed Sirius was a cold-blooded man who betrayed his friends—and the children rushed to greet him. He seemed to instinctively click with the redheaded twins in particular, promising them, "We'll have a good chat later," which made Uncle Arthur break out in a cold sweat.

"Alright, let's put up the tents. The Muggle way! Sirius, since you're here, we're going to have you help too."

"Yeah, of course."

With the Muggle-born Hermione and the Potter siblings taking the lead, we fumbled our way through pitching the tents. Halfway through, the Marauders from two different generations started messing around and ended up getting scolded by Uncle Arthur, Sirius included; they honestly looked just like school students. You wouldn't be forgiven for that in your thirties if you didn't have a good face.

"That should do it. My, this is wonderful! A Muggle tent through and through! What do you think, Harry? Don't you agree? Right, next is starting a fire with firewood... oh, right, Sirius, and Harry and Maria. Could you lot go and fetch some water in these for me?"

Handed one kettle and two saucepans, we headed toward the water tap, taking Sirius along as our designated "supervisor." We immediately understood that this was Uncle Arthur being considerate. We had far too much to catch up on with Sirius.

On the way, seeing a little girl swinging her dad's wand and getting scolded by her mother, Sirius laughed and said Maria used to be just like that, and that James would get scolded by Lily every time. Seeing a little boy riding around on a toy broomstick, he talked about how Harry had been a natural on a broom since he was a baby. Both Harry and I were filled with happiness. To be able to touch upon the memories of our parents so easily—stories we would never, ever hear at the Dursleys'.

"Hey, Sirius. Did you get my letter?"

As we approached the edge of the campsite, Harry cut right to the chase.