Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she’s found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that’ll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago.’
    ‘Mr Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks,’ said Percy swiftly.
    ‘Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn’t found out about Winky,’ said Mr Weasley irritably. ‘There’d be a week’s worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark.’
    ‘I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?’ said Percy hotly.
    ‘If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!’ said Hermione angrily.
    ‘Now, look here, Hermione!’ said Percy. ‘A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants –’
    ‘His slave, you mean!’ said Hermione, her voice rising shrilly. ‘Because he didn’t pay Winky, did he?’
    ‘I think you’d all better go upstairs and check that you’ve packed properly!’ said Mrs Weasley, breaking up the argument. ‘Come on, now, all of you …’
    Harry repacked his Broomstick Servicing Kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder and went back upstairs with Ron. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistlings and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Pigwidgeon began twittering and zooming around his cage again when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.
    ‘Bung him some Owl Treats,’ said Ron, throwing a packet across to Harry, ‘it might shut him up.’
    Harry poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon’s cage, then turned to his trunk. Hedwig’s cage stood next to it, still empty.
    ‘It’s been over a week,’ Harry said, looking at Hedwig’s deserted perch. ‘Ron, you don’t reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?’
    ‘Nah, it would’ve been in the Daily Prophet ,’ said Ron. ‘The Ministry would want to show they’d caught someone , wouldn’t they?’
    ‘Yeah, I suppose …’
    ‘Look, here’s the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she’s got some gold out of your vault for you … and she’s washed all your socks.’
    He heaved a pile of parcels onto Harry’s camp bed and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it. Harry started unwrapping the shopping. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 , by Miranda Goshawk, he had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment and refills for his potion-making kit – he had been running low on spine of lionfish and essence of belladonna. He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him.
    ‘What is that supposed to be?’
    He was holding up something that looked to Harry like a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a mouldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs.
    There was a knock on the door, and Mrs Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.
    ‘Here you are,’ she said, sorting them into two. ‘Now, mind you pack them properly so they don’t crease.’
    ‘Mum, you’ve given me Ginny’s new dress,’ said Ron, holding it out to her.
    ‘Of course I haven’t,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘That’s for you. Dress robes.’
    ‘What?’ said Ron, looking horror-struck.
    ‘Dress robes!’ repeated Mrs Weasley. ‘It says on your school list that you’re supposed to have dress robes this year … robes for formal occasions.’
    ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ said Ron in disbelief. ‘I’m not wearing that, no way.’
    ‘Everyone wears them, Ron!’ said Mrs Weasley crossly. ‘They’re all like that! Your father’s got some for smart parties!’
    ‘I’ll go starkers before I put that on,’ said Ron stubbornly.
    ‘Don’t be so silly,’ said Mrs Weasley, ‘you’ve got to have dress robes, they’re on your list! I got some for Harry, too … show him, Harry …’
    In some trepidation, Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. It wasn’t as bad as he had expected, however; his dress robes didn’t have any lace on them at all; in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black.
    ‘I thought they’d bring out the colour of your eyes,