• Serena Black •

„Our greatest glory is not in never failing,
but in rising every time we fall."

The next morning dawned far too early for Serena's liking and quite as it appeared, she possessed a personal, if rather unpleasant, alarm clock. Grumbling, she pulled her hand under the covers when it was touched by something warm and rather wet. A moment later she felt a pressure on her blanket and as a hot breath blew through the loose strands of hair in her braid, she finally blinked into the dim light. Two big grey eyes were already looking at her expectantly.

"Aaahh!" she shrieked, pushing the big black dog off her bed. Immediately he burst into a laughing bark and ran joyfully out the door, straight into the twins' room. Sleepily, Serena looked after him and could only shake her head. Groaning, she ran her hand over her face.

It was still dark outside and only the bright glow of the moon fell into her room. At first Serena wondered what her father was doing waking her up in the middle of the night and was about to go back to sleep when she remembered what was coming up that day. The Quidditch World Cup! Groaning, but with rising anticipation, Serena peeled herself out of bed and she could now hear loud swearing coming from the next room. This was revenge for her victory.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Mrs Weasley was already hard at work stirring a pot, while Fred, George, Harry and Remus were already sitting wearily at the dining table. Sirius was still lying in his Animagus form on the marble floor between Remus and Harry, dozing off. Serena finally sat down next to the latter and silently began to gnaw on a grain roll. She was anything but talkative in the early morning.

A few moments later, Mr Weasley also strolled down the stairs with his youngest son. The head of the Weasleys had dressed up in his own special way; he wore a sweater paired with stone-old jeans cinched with a wide leather belt. Theatrically, he spread his arms for them to inspect his attire. "What do you think?" he asked expectantly. "We are supposed to travel incognito. Do I look like a Muggle, Harry?"

"Hmm," Harry replied in more or less agreement. Serena didn't know if he was still so tired and hadn't really looked or if he simply didn't want to put a damper on the Weasley head's euphoria.

"Where are Bill, Charlie and Percy?" yawned Ron and sat down at the table with them, apparently still half in a dream. His eyes were not even fully open and his red hair stood tangled from his head.

"They want to apparate," his mother replied, heaving the big pot onto the table and ladling porridge into the bowls. "So they can sleep in a little longer."

"So they're still sleeping?" grumbled Fred sullenly, pulling an oatmeal bowl towards him. Half-heartedly, he poked at it with a fork. His mother then sighed and put a spoon in his hand and finally let her eyes wander over the empty seats at the breakfast table. "Where are the rest of the girls anyway?"

Serena shrugged her shoulders, whereupon Mrs Weasley marched up the stairs, shaking her head, and finally energetic knocking could be heard down to the dining table. A short while later Hermione and Ginny joined them, their faces pale and sleepy.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" grumbled the youngest Weasley daughter, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Serena, meanwhile, hadn't even made it to the middle of her grain roll. She couldn't get anything down at such an early hour. But she knew she would need her strength for the long day ahead. Especially with what Mr Weasley had in store for them. "We have a bit of a walk ahead of us."

Inwardly, Serena groaned and looked outside. At least the weather was cooperating. Gradually the sun came out and bathed the garden of Crystal Cottage in a golden glow. At least it wasn't too warm at this early hour. Mr Weasley nevertheless received unmotivated grumbling from the teenagers for his statement.

"Walking?" Harry inquired in surprise. "Are we going to walk to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's too far away," Mr. Weasley said with a smile. "We only have to walk a short distance. You see, it's very difficult to gather a large number of wizards in one place without the Muggles noticing. We always have to be careful anyway, and with a huge event like the Quidditch World Cup..."

"George!" suddenly screeched Mrs Weasley sharply, at which everyone cringed and the person addressed put on an innocent face. With flashing eyes, the red-haired woman pointed to his bag. "What's that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't lie!" She pointed the wand at the blue backpack and made short work of it. "Accio!" Several small coloured objects shot out of it. The owner of the bag tried in vain to catch them with the help of his twin brother, but the things flew straight into the outstretched hand of his mother.

"We told you to render them harmless!" she shouted angrily, holding up some of the Ton-Tongue-Toffees. "Empty your pockets, now, both of you!"

It was funny to watch, as the twins had obviously intended to smuggle as many toffee beans out of the house as possible. The process of reaching into their pockets and then pulling out the fateful sweets went on in a continuous loop. It was only with the help of a collecting spell that Mrs Weasley finally managed to take all the specimens. "Accio! Accio! Accio!" she cried.

The toffee beans flew at them from everywhere, from the lining of Fred's jacket, from the lapels of George's jeans and also from Serena's rucksack. "Hey, did you sneak them in there?" she cried indignantly, sticking her head in the pocket to see if they had hidden anything else there. But she couldn't find anything suspicious.

"It took us half a year to develop them!" shouted Fred at his mother as she threw the toffees into the bin in front of his angry eyes.

"Oh, it's a great way to spend six months!" she retorted caustically. "No wonder you didn't get more OWLs!"

After Mrs Weasley's argumentative sermon and the thought of still having to traipse through the Pampas before they would reach the World Cup's location, the mood was not particularly good when they finally set off.

First they had floo to the Burrow, as it was only from there that they could reach the so-called portkey that would take them to their destination. Mrs Weasley still scowled as she kissed her husband goodbye on the cheek and remained alone in her home. Though nowhere near as gloomy as the twins, who shouldered their rucksacks and walked out without a word of farewell. The group trudged along a dark, damp path and only their footsteps disturbed the silence. As they walked through the dense trees, the dark blue sky brightened more and more. The first rays of sunlight made the hoarfrost on the tall grasses glisten.

Serena began to gasp and side stitch as they crested a hill, at the top of which Mr Weasley finally stopped and put both hands on his hips. "Somewhere around here must be the Portkey. It won't be big.... you can help me..."

Serena expelled a deep breath and began to look around the hilltop. The sun was beginning to be so strong that it blinded her and she had to squint her eyes. Protectively, she held a hand in front of her field of vision. From the hill they had a fantastic view of the valley, in the middle of which was a small village. All around were wooded landscapes and fields that lay sleepily in a shallow mist.

"Here, Arthur! Here, old boy, we've got him!" it suddenly called. A man with brown stubble hair beckoned them towards him with a walking stick. He wore a chequered hat and an equally chequered jacket. He carried a large backpack on his back, which indicated that he had probably also planned a long excursion.

"Amos!" exclaimed Mr Weasley delightedly, pointing his finger at the man. "This is Amos Diggory! Works in the Magical Creatures Guidance and Supervision Department. And I believe you know his son Cedric?"

"Hello." Cedric Diggory was handsome. Serena couldn't deny that, yet she wasn't the type of girl to start giggling like Hermione and Ginny did at the sight of him at that moment. Cedric then looked around in embarrassment as the others also replied with a quick 'hello'. At least, except for Fred and George. Serena wasn't sure if it was because Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff last term or if they were just still offended by the loss of their Toffees.

Mr Diggory let his eyes roam over the group with wide eyes. "All from you, Arthur?"

"Oh no, just the redheads," Mr Weasley quickly interjected, pointing to those who were not blessed with red hair. "That's Hermione, Serena and Harry."

"By the Beard of Merlin," Amos Diggory groaned, his eyes widening a little more. "Harry Potter?"

"Erm yes," Harry replied awkwardly, pressing his lips together into an unpleasant smile. It took a while for Mr Diggory to take his eyes off him and let them move on to the adults.

"Remus Lupin," Serena's godfather introduced himself politely and offered his hand. "I was Cedric's teacher last year." Mr Diggory nodded knowingly. "Of course! Cedric told me about you, you were his favourite teacher!"

Remus looked a little embarrassed at this statement, but Serena could only agree and nodded at him affirmatively. Mr Diggory's eyes moved on to another person. "You're Sirius Black, aren't you?" he breathed in awe. It was hard to tell what thoughts were going through Cedric's father's mind at that moment, but eventually he shook his hand too. "Nice to meet you."

"We have to leave soon," Mr Weasley interjected quickly, leading the group to an old boot at the other end of the hill. "You just need to touch the portkey, that's all."

The group formed a tight circle to do this, but with their bulky backpacks, it proved to be rather cumbersome. Eventually, however, they managed to get each of the elves to touch a finger to the discoloured leather of the old boot. Serena waited out the countdown in an uncomfortable position, hoping she wouldn't fall over and be left alone. That would be rather inconvenient.

"Three.... two... one ..." Serena gritted her teeth and was already swaying, but as soon as Mr Weasley's voice had faded, the ground was pulled out from under her feet. At that, it was downright impossible for her to let go of the boot. Even if she had wanted to, her hand now seemed glued to the Portkey. The world beneath her began to spin at dizzying speed, apparently trying to bring her breakfast back into the daylight.

Fortunately, her feet hit solid ground again only a few seconds later, but she stumbled at the same moment and landed face down in the warm grass, much to her father's amusement. "Are you okay?"

Serena could already hear from his tone that he was struggling not to laugh it off in front of the assembled crew. For this reason, she chose to ignore his outstretched hand and scramble up on her own while knocking dirt off her clothes. The adults and Cedric alone had managed to land safely on both feet.

All the others were also scattered on the earthy ground, which was partly overgrown with grass. Once again they set off on a short walk until a small stone house loomed before them in the morning mist. Behind it, Serena spotted a huge gate and the ghostly outline of a gigantic number of tents, rows of which stretched across a gently rising field to a dark forest on the horizon.

At the gateway, they were finally assigned places by a Muggle who had not the slightest idea what was actually going on at his campsite. The Diggorys said goodbye to them and disappeared behind the tents, which were in the opposite direction from the one they were taking themselves.

Looking for their places, they wandered along the long rows of tents and, to Serena's surprise, most of the tents looked quite ordinary. As if they actually belonged to Muggles who wanted to spend their holiday at the campsite. Every now and then, however, there were tents that looked out of place, proving that their owners must truly be wizards. One of them was at least three storeys high and another looked as magnificent as a small palace.

Serena came to stand in front of the latter in amazement. It was in the middle of the centre and right next to a small fountain from which fresh drinking water could be drawn. It was kept in such a dark grey that it seemed almost black and even had two towers and a front garden where purple flowers were blooming that Serena had never seen before and two ducks were swimming in a small pond.

"Always the same," Mr Weasley commented on the extravagant tent. "We just can't help showing off a little when we get together."

"It must have cost more than our house," Ron marvelled, mouth agape. At that moment, two boys with blond hair approached them. "With your family sleeping in one room, this place must be the purest mansion, eh Weaselbee?"

Groaning, the entire group turned to the owner of the annoying voice. Draco Malfoy's pointed face was adorned with a mocking grin as he strolled casually past them, clearly enjoying the way they gazed at his tent. He had hardly changed at all over the holidays. Walking beside him was the beater who had tried to foul Serena at the Quidditch match; Edmund Hall. In contrast to Malfoy, he seemed to have had a growth spurt and his features looked more angular.

Side by side, they looked even more like siblings with their light hair. The fact that the two of them were apparently sharing a tent underlined Serena's suspicion that they were indeed related. In the corner of her eye, she saw her father fold his arms. "And who's this charming chap?"

"Draco Malfoy," she groaned between her front teeth, watching with a scowl as they disappeared into the bowels of the tent castle.

"Of course," was her father's blunt reply. Harry, meanwhile, nodded along the stony path with a tense jaw. "Come on."

Serena heaved a deep sigh and could only shake her head at Malfoy's far too large ego. With one last glance back, she was finally able to take her eyes off the impressive tent. In the corner of her eye, she saw a dark shadow standing behind one of the windows, watching the group.

"Aha, here we are, look, this is our place!" exclaimed Mr Weasley delightedly at last. The edge of the forest at the top of the campsite was a little away from the main action and was home to only a few tents. A small sign had been stuck there in the sparse grass, reading: Weezly.

"We couldn't have got better!" said Mr Weasley happily. "The pitch is on the other side of this forest, it couldn't have been closer!"

Enthusiastically, he he slid his huge rucksack to the ground. "Actually, no magic is allowed when we are in such large numbers on Muggle land. That's why we're setting up these tents by hand! Shouldn't be too heavy. Muggles do it all the time..."

Fred and George groaned. Serena also looked at the rolled up tents sceptically. She had never been camping in her life. Seeking help, she looked at her father, who was pulling the still originally packed tent out of his backpack. But he looked as lost as the rest of the group. To get a start, they, along with Remus and Harry, spread out all the pertinent items on the floor and read through the instructions, which couldn't have been more complicated. Remus, however, seemed to understand them, so it was mainly him and Harry who ended up building a respectable tent.

Serena helped by following their instructions and occasionally holding the tarp or handing them the pegs. Her father was more of a hindrance than a help. Every time they successfully knocked a peg into the ground, he pulled it out again, saying that it would look stupid and was therefore wrong. Remus had then sent him to fetch water so that they could finish the tent without him.

When he returned, there were a total of three two-man tents in their allotted space. Two of them belonged to the Weasleys and, unlike the third, looked quite used and worn. But in the end they stood sturdy and should serve their purpose. Serena wondered how the thirteen of them could fit into these tiny tents, but magic would prove her wrong, as it often did. After all, it was a wizarding excursion.

Serena exchanged one last questioning glance with Harry, who seemed equally puzzled, before crawling into the new dark blue tent behind her father and Remus. No sooner had she stepped over the threshold of the tent hatch than she found herself not in the dim belly of a couple of tarpaulins of polyester as she had expected, but in a fully furnished living room. There was even a fully equipped kitchen, a bathroom and four small bedrooms. Well, it was still dim, but if camping was like this among wizards, then she had definitely missed something in her life so far.

Serena looked around in amazement and threw her rucksack possessively onto the bunk in one of the separate rooms, where there was otherwise only a small oil lamp. It was nothing like her room at Crystal Cottage, but at least it was better than sleeping cramped together in a tent and having to pee in bushes.

In the meantime, Mr Weasley was struggling outside to get a fire going for lunch. The fact that each of the tents had an oven and working cooker didn't seem to bother the Weasley.

"When real Muggles camp, they cook on open-air fires, I've seen it myself!" he proclaimed, his face lit up with anticipation of doing the same. However, he did not succeed in starting a fire without magic. It wasn't the number of attempts that had failed, however, for the ground at his feet was littered with splintered matches.

Remus watched the whole thing with his arms crossed, seeming torn about whether to offer his help. "Oooops!" exclaimed Mr Weasley as he finally managed to light a match, but promptly dropped it in surprise.

The former teacher finally seemed to have had enough and patiently took the matchbox from his hand to show him how to do it properly. Finally, the fire was burning, even if it took at least another hour before it was big enough to cook something on it.

While waiting, however, there was a lot to see, as their tent seemed to be just off the footpath to the pitch. They recognised many familiar faces from other Hogwarts students, such as Oliver Wood, Seamus Finnigan, who in his all-green attire was probably an Ireland fan, Ernie Macmillan and Cho Chang, at the sight of whom Harry began to grin like an idiot.

When the fire finally burned sensibly and sent a great puff of smoke into the bright blue sky, Bill, Charlie and Percy also arrived. All the eggs and sausages were already sizzling away, making Serena's mouth water, when another guest joined them.

"The man of the hour!" exclaimed Mr Weasley euphorically. "Ludo Bagman!"

Serena sat with the rest of the group spread out around the blazing fire, its flames licking around the wood they had gathered. Only half-heartedly did she look up as she poked at the embers with a long stick. She was hungry and at that moment it was hard for her to be interested in anything but the delicious smelling sausages.

"Arthur, my friend," gasped the man, whose face looked rosy and boyish. "What a day! What a day! We couldn't have wished for better weather!"

Percy immediately jumped to his feet and held out his hand. Obviously, his previous disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from trying to impress him nevertheless. Bagman's blue eyes gleamed as he looked round, jingling what appeared to be a large quantity of gold coins in the pockets of his yellow and black cape. "Anyone fancy a little bet?"

"Give it a rest, Ludo," Mr Weasley waved it off, but Serena almost slipped off the ominously teetering log she was sitting on as her father hastily jumped up. "Ten Galleons on the Victory of Ireland!"

"Very nice, very nice ... anyone else want to bet?" asked Bagman eagerly, looking to the teenagers, but Mr Weasley quickly said. "They're a little young to be betting. Molly wouldn't like that at all..."

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred interrupted his father, and had quickly thrown all his money together with George's, which he now held out to him, "that Ireland wins, but Viktor Krum catches the Snitch. Oh, and we'll put a fake wand on it."

"You don't want to bother Mr Bagman with that sort of rubbish!" hissed Percy indignantly, giving the Ministry Wizard an apologetic look. But to his astonishment, Bagman did not seem to think the wand was junk. On the contrary, his boyish face lit up with excitement as he took it from Fred's hand and the latter turned into a rubber chicken. "Excellent! I haven't seen such a great fake wand in years! I'd lay down five galleons for that!"

Percy, who had expected everything but this reaction, froze and pressed both lips together indignantly, as if he would love to share his opinion. Serena had to hide a grin behind her palm.

"Boys..." mumbled Mr Weasley pleadingly meanwhile, and Serena could tell he was feeling rather uncomfortable. "I don't want you to bet... that's all your savings.... Your mother..."

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, jingling the contents of his pocket enthusiastically. "They're old enough to know what they want! You think Ireland wins, but Krum catches the snitch? Never ever, boys, never ever."

Mr Weasley had to watch helplessly as Ludo Bagman pulled out a notebook and quill and wrote down the twins' names. Bright-eyed, Bagman finally turned back to him. "I'm looking for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian partner is giving me trouble and I don't understand a word he is saying. I'm sure Barty can sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr Crouch?" inquired Percy quickly in a high-pitched voice, and all at once his disapproving countenance was animated with excitement again. "He speaks over two hundred languages! Nixish and Chinese and troll..."

"Anyone can troll," Fred interjected disdainfully, rolling his eyes. "All you have to do is wave and grunt."

Percy gave his brother a most spiteful look and poked the fire vigorously to bring the water in the kettle back to the boil. As he did so, he carelessly pushed Serena's stick aside. It was only when a wizard, who in his suit could also pass for a Filli leader, had apparated a few metres away from them that the industrious Weasley's spirits lifted again.

"Mr Crouch!" breathlessly groaned Percy, sinking into a kind of half bow. "Would you like a cup of tea, perhaps?"

"Oh," Mr Crouch merely said, apparently a little surprised at the eagerness of his clerk. "Yes, very thoughtful, Weatherby."

Fred and George promptly spluttered into their cups. For a long time the two had been making fun of their elder brother's career and this nickname had now been handed to them on a silver platter to tease him further about it.

Serena poked George with her stick. "Do you really think it was smart to bet all your money?"

"Knowing we'll get it at least double back, yes," he grinned so broadly it made the freckles on his nose dance. "Besides, we need all the investment we can get."

"Precisely."

"Don't worry about it, Rina." He winked at her conspiratorially. "We know exactly what we're doing."

Sighing, Serena turned back to the conversation between the ministry officials, but Bagman and Crouch had disappeared by now and she was long past knowing what it was all about. Fred, meanwhile, was bobbing around excitedly on his folding chair. "What's going to happen at Hogwarts, Dad?"

"It's classified information until the Ministry decides to release it," Percy replied merely pompously for his father and turned away with his chin up.

"Oh shut up, Weatherby."