"Mom!" Rachel Hekman ran into the house, her brown hair flying everywhere. "Mom!"
"What is it?" Mrs. Hekman asked as her daughter tripped over a stack of two-by-fours and landed on the floor with a thump.
Rachel held out a sheaf of parchment as she got to her feet. "I got a reply from Seamus." She was about to go on, but suddenly, she stopped and looked suddenly curious. "I wonder where Romulus got to."
A yowl from the living room made them both jump. One of the men who were laying carpet came running into the family room, his face ruddy with excitement. "Ma'am, did you know you have an owl in your house?"
Rachel grinned and whistled, and when Romulus settled on her shoulder, she nearly began laughing at the terrified expression on the man's face.
Mrs. Hekman looked reproachfully at her daughter and took the letter from her hand. "O Dearest Sushi: Thanks for your last letter…" Her eyes scanned the page, trying to find the place her daughter had indicated. "…Quidditch World Cup is being held in Britain this year. My mam and I are going, and we've got extra tickets"—Mrs. Hekman peered closer at the paper, trying to decipher Seamus' untidy scrawl—"and we were wondering if you and Hannah and Tanya and Katelyn would like to go!"
Rachel squealed and clutched at her mother's hands. "Oh, Mama, I really want to go! Katelyn and Tanya and Hannah and Haley are already going! Besides, Mrs. Finnigan will be taking us all."
Mrs. Hekman, who had been looking highly doubtful, raised her eyebrows. "That's true…" Mrs. Finnigan and Mrs. Hekman had kept up a steady stream of friendly correspondence since they'd met before the Funny Farm's third year, and now Rachel decided that it was, indeed, a very good thing.
"Please?"
Mrs. Hekman sighed and looked back down at the letter. "A week from yesterday? Well, that seems reasonable…"
"Mom, I'd just stay there until the school term starts again. Please? Haley's already agreed to come with. We'd just take a Portkey with her to wherever Mrs. Finnigan wants us to go."
"All right."
"All right what?"
"I suppose you may go."
"Yes!" Rachel leapt in the air and squeezed her poor owl in her arms, much as you'd hold a human infant. "You hear that, Romulus? We're going to the World Cup! Oh my gosh, I've got to tell Bev! I've got to pack! I've got to call Katelyn and Tanya and Hannah! I've got to call Seamus!" She snatched up the cordless phone and ran out of the room.
"She moves in completely different circles than I did in high school," Mrs. Hekman said to Romulus, who was irritably smoothing his feathers back down into place. "I've just gotten her back, and off she goes again, leaving me lacking a daughter."
Romulus hooted dejectedly.
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"Seamus!"
This delighted shriek made everyone near the entrance cottage look round, including the Muggle standing in the doorway. A blur of black and blue caught Seamus Finnigan around the neck and knocked him sprawling on the grass.
"Ow! Who's that?"
"Who do you think?" Rachel asked, brushing the grass off her jeans and helping Seamus to his feet. "And sorry for knocking you over like that—I've really been quite clumsy lately."
He peered at her. "Rachel?"
She looked back at him, her eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared into the shadows of her baseball cap. "What?"
A cry of excitement drowned out Seamus' next words as Dean Thomas came around the building with a sandy-haired woman who had the same green eyes as Seamus. She came rather slower than Dean, as she was obviously pregnant. Hannah rushed past Haley, Tanya, Katelyn, Rachel, Seamus, and Mrs. Finnigan and was about to throw her arms around Dean's neck when she stopped abruptly. "Er…" she said, coloring. The Funny Farm shared her discomfort, each remembering the ongoing spat Dean and Hannah had had during third year.
Hannah stuck her hand out to Dean instead, who shook it gingerly. "Hey, everyone."
"Hi, Dean," they chorused.
"You didn't tell us Dean was going to be here," Katelyn said. "I am all of astonishment!"
"I didn't? Oh, I thought I did." Seamus shrugged, and then noticed something odd about the girl standing next to him. "Rachel—where's your hair?"
"Seamus!" Mrs. Finnigan said reproachfully.
"It's under her hat," Katelyn informed him.
He peered at the writing on it. "'Witchful Thinking.' Nice, but why are you hiding under it?" He made to take it off her head, but she ducked away.
"Please don't, Seamus."
"Leave her hat alone," Mrs. Finnigan chided him. "Anyways…how is everyone doing? Still have all your limbs?"
"Yes," everyone replied with smiles.
Mrs. Finnigan beamed at the little cluster of young people in front of her, all of which she was terribly fond of. "Well, then. Let's not stand around all day, shall we? Pick up your things, because I have a right nice campsite picked out."
So they followed her to their site, where two white tents were set up behind a slightly battered fire pit and some Muggle lawn chairs. "We'll be staying here for a week, o' course, then a few days in London, then off to school for you all."
"I'm just excited to be here," Hannah said enthusiastically. "I do hope Ireland wins."
"Well, what else would you say?" Dean joked, dropping his duffel bag by one of the tents.
"Good point," Rachel said, setting her backpack on one of the chairs. "Say anything else, and goodbye, you'll be killed by rampaging leprechauns."
Haley, who hasn't said or done anything except stand around and be an extra up until now, began laughing, but when everyone in the near vicinity turned around to glare, she and Rachel blanched.
Suddenly, seizing the opportunity, Seamus reached over and pulled Rachel's hat off her head, causing her to whip our her wand and spin around. But it was too late, as everyone saw her hair fall free. It was no longer long and bushy, but shoulder-length and slightly less bushy.
Seamus gave a low whistle. "No wonder you hid it."
"Hey!"
"It looks good!" he exclaimed hastily. "What I meant was that it's so different from last year…I was surprised, that's all."
Mrs. Finnigan, who had missed the entire scene, now came out of the tent. "Okay, lads, your tent's ready. Ah, Rachel, darling, I do like your hair. Lasses, I hope you don't mind sharing a tent with me. They're big enough, I think."
Sure enough, they were more than large enough, and soon everybody was warmed up to each other and felt like nary a day had gone by since third year had ended.