Bulgaria's loss had only a few of us in the dumps, the rest overjoyed with Ireland's win. Of course, those of us who were miserable was Harry, Ron and me, and the rest of them were for Ireland. Ron was more upset about it than Harry and I were, I couldn't exactly blame him. I had been rooting for Bulgaria's win for a while now. That foul call made a lot of people mad.

But I wasn't thinking about that at this exact moment. Mr. Weasley was gripping my shoulder with one hand and carrying a small bag of stuff with the other as we walked back up the trail that we had come from almost four days ago. I was still shaking. Today was the day I had learned that Death Eaters weren't just some "whack-jobs" that wanted attention.

They're the real deal. And it only makes me want to go back to Hogwarts even more.

"Get yourselves home safe," Mr. Weasley said a somewhat quick good-bye to Mr. Diggory and his son, Cedric, and was slowly pushing me along. "These kids need to prepare for Hogwarts, yes?"

I didn't really care enough to hear what Mr. Diggory had said in response. I was more trying to keep my feet moving in rhythm with Mr. Weasley's so we could just go back to their home.

This is what I do every year. My mother would go out of town this time of year, and I would go to the Weasley's. I'd go to Hogwarts from there. I have no idea where she goes, and she won't tell me, so it must be something incredibly un-entertaining.

The walk back to the Portkey site was completely silent. We had to wait our turn for a small while, which was shocking. Everyone here must've been ready to get home, and most likely recuperate. The thought of an incredibly long nap crossed my mind, but I dismissed it. For all I knew it'd be daybreak by the time we made it back to the Burrow, and I always struggle with sleeping when the sun is up, no matter how dark the room is. 

The man in charge of the Portkey's scrambled to get us one, and we landed back where we started on the hill. No one said a word as we crossed through the village to the Weasely residence. When we did finally make it back, and Mrs. Weasley was busy fighting back her tears as she hugged Mr. Weasley tight and Fred and George tighter (she had yelled at them just before we left, something about using a prank treat on Harry's Muggle cousin), I was about to start a letter to my mother, but then I didn't. I think she'd find out as quickly as Mrs. Weasley had about the Death Eaters. So I plopped myself in their loveseat, fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there.

But she had us go up to bed anyway, the boys to the upper levels and the girls below them. Us girls hardly spoke; Hermione was, surprisingly, the first one asleep. Then me. I suppose Ginny was asleep after me.

-«•»-

Mrs. Weasley woke us up at around nine. I was still exhausted, and I found excuses to sleep longer throughout the day since it was raining, and we couldn't go out anyway or do anything. Mrs. Weasley had already gone out and gotten our school supplies. At least, I thought so, until I could hear her stomping up the stairs.

"Sienna, dear, your mother sent this up." She was holding a small parcel that was shaped like a cube. "I called ahead when Arthur said your wand was broken."

I thanked her and took the package from her. She watched me open it; inside was a bag of coins and a small note.

Sienna -
Glad to hear you made it back safely. I'm sorry I can't make it back before the holiday ends. Enjoy the school year and all its excitement. The galleons are for your wand, you should have enough left over for a Gryffindor sweater.

Love, Mum

I wasn't exactly surprised that my mother had written it out in a hurry. She usually did. Her letters were never really long, either. She'd mostly ask for my term grade card, the occasional photo of something I'm involved in, and then I wouldn't hear from her until the end of the next term.

"I guess I should go now before the better ones are picked off by the First Years." I didn't want to move off the bed, but I forced myself up and into my shoes and jacket. 

"You can use the Floo Powder, dear." Mrs. Weasley was already moving down the stairs towards the living area. I followed close behind her, trying to keep up. She had gotten there quick anyway, and held up the cup of Floo Powder. I thanked her, promising to be back before she had dinner on the table, and I stepped into the fireplace, minding my head.

"Diagon Alley." The emerald flames shot up and soon the living room disappeared. The sound of music and rain replaced the clock that was chiming in the Weasley living room, and soon I found myself in one of the alleyways of Diagon Alley. A bunch of younger kids were running around amongst each other, clearly first-year students, and I had to squeeze through them just to get to Ollivander's.

There was hardly a line, I had to wait for a while for one First Year to pick a wand (and not get hit in the head with books in the process), and when he finally had one, it was my turn.

Mr. Ollivander greeted me with a small smile as he inspected my snapped-off wand. I was quick to explain how my wand had fallen out my coat and was practically trampled by the panicked crowd at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Shame," he said. "Such a nice wand, too. Oh, well, the witch's life is more important than a wand, I suppose. Unicorn hair core, I see..." He then stepped away to the very back of the store. It was a bit before he came back to the front, holding out a lighter wand than I had been used to. "Try an eleven. Acacia Wood."

I nervously picked it up, holding it up and swishing it around. Nothing really happened when I did.

"You're a Fifth Year, yes? Try casting a spell with it. Put a book on this counter." He pointed to a stack of books in the corner.

With a deep breath, I pointed to the book on the very top. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The wand began to shake in my hand, and the white stream of magic shot out faster than a Quidditch broom, and the book went bursting up through the ceiling to the second floor, leaving a gaping hole. I gave a nervous chuckle. "Sorry, Mr. Ollivander."

"Oh, these things happen all the time." I was quick to shove the wand back into his hands. "Maybe we should try something more similar than the core." He took the wand back, was gone for a bit longer than the last time, then came back with a box in his hands. "This is one that I finished just last week. Ten inches, Unicorn hair core, dark maple oak wood. It looks a bit different, but it's the same specifications."

The handle of the wand was carved out into a spiral, and at the very base of it was a rose quartz crystal. I can't understand how wand-makers are able to craft the way they can, but I don't think I ever will.

I took the wand with careful hands, aiming it to the next book. "Wingardium Leviosa."

I was in control; the book lifted up gently and I guided it to the counter. Mr. Ollivander had a smile on his face. "I had a feeling. The wand is yours."

I was quick to pay him in seven galleons, tucked wand away carefully in my jacket pocket, and made my way out of the shop. The rain was still pouring down, so I had to run across the brick-paved path and down some to make it to the store that usually has the Gryffindor spirit wear. I bought myself the sweater like my mother wanted and asked to use their Floo Powder when I paid. The woman told me no, so I off I went to the alleyways. 

I could just see the head of the Dark Mark snake disappear over the rooftops before everything became an emerald flame.