P.O.V.

Goblet of Fire

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have said so. So since I am not, I won't.

Summary: The story of Harry Potter from GoF through HBP told from other characters perspectives. I will go through many characters, some I will stay with more than others, for obvious reasons. Each chapter will, most of the time, be seen by only one character, but their will be chapters where their will be multiple perspectives, seeing the same situation and having different reactions, but those will be occasions of massive importance to the series.

Most of the time I will stay with good guys, but occasionally I slip to the dark side of the Wizarding World.

All parings are as they are in the books. The only exceptions are characters that I made up myself.

A Summer of Varying News

George Weasley

It has only been two weeks into the summer, and already Mum is on Fred and my backs. Even for us, that has to be some sort of record. It usually gets her a month to find something or to find out about something to really get her peeved. This time it was our O.W.L.s. We haven't gotten our O.W.L.s yet, so we don't know how bad we did, but Fred and I are pretty certain that we didn't do that stupendous. Meaning, we know we did the worst of the family, which is less than Charlie's 10.

But we're not dimwitted enough to tell dear old Mum and Dad that, no sir. When asked how many O.W.L.s we thought we had accumulated, were said a slight exaggeration of a guess: 8. We know we didn't do horrible, but were sure as hell didn't get 10 and we figured that 8 would be a good alibi guess (Until the markings come out, that is). But Mum any Dad have known us long enough to tell when we aren't being our 100 honest selves. When Mum asked us how well she really thought we did, along with a glare that would make You-Know-Who flinch, we told her what we really guessed.

5.

Between us both.

Well, you can imagine how Mum reacted, and it wasn't with a pat on the back and a reminder to do better next time. No, it was with a confiscation of our brooms for the first month of summer so we could concentrate on our 'important studies'.

So, naturally, we went to our rooms and started reading about transfiguring mice and how to make a love potion, like good little sons/students.

Yeah, right!

"Can you believe her?" Fred said to me as we enter our room, making sure to slam our door as loud as possible "4 weeks without brooms! How are we supposed to stay sane? How can we survive the summer without 2 solid months of beating Ron and Ginny at Quidditch?"

I nodded my head vigorously. "It's not like their was really that high of a hope that we would do well on our O.W.L.s in the first place. It's her fault for thinking we're Percy."

"More like wanting us to be Percy," Fred corrected me, rolling his eyes in disdain.

"Percy got 12 O.W.L.s," I remarked in a voice closely resembling our mothers, while sitting down at my desk. "Percy made prefect. Percy made Head Boy. Percy made it into the Ministry"

"Percy made me throw up," Fred added, placing his hands over his stomach making retching noises, while moving to join me at his own desk.

"Well, if Mum thinks that we are going to waste a month on work instead of play, she doesn't know us as well as she thinks she dose." I nodded to my twin with a devilish smile plastered on my face.

He got his own smile and nodded back.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," he knowingly asked me.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," I confirmed.

We pulled our wands from our pockets, and with a flick, both of our desks, at the moment covered with a few schoolbooks that act as decoys whenever Mum cleans the room and give the indication that we are actually working, disappear only to be replaced by long scrolls covered with names and prices next to them; some wands separated into very specific piles along the edge of the desk; little candies, some open, some closed with names like Ton-Tongue Toffee written on them; ingredients placed in whisky bottles and test tubes and other items designed to help people who are creating.

"Should we go over what we have that is ready and working properly, correct," I asked Fred?

"Correct." He picked up a checklist lying next to a flask labeled 'Niffler Toes' and a quill. "Fake wand: Underpants?"

"Ready," I answered back, and picked up what looks like a normal wand, but one wave of my wand and it turned into a pair of underpants.

"I believe these are yours," I smirked, lifting the briefs toward my brother with my wand.

"Shut up," he snapped, ripping the garment from me and threw it on top of the bed. He checked off the box on the list marked 'FW: UP'. He had a blush on his forehead that practically fused with his hair, as with happens with all us Weasley's

"Fake wand: Mouse," he continued, trying to sound as if nothing had happened.

"Check." I waved another wand and it turned into a mouse that scurried away.

"Fake wand: Beater."

"Check. But, if you don't mind, dear brother, if I don't try this one out? I still have the bruises from last time."

He looked up at me from the list and smirked. 'Payback for the underpants' I knew he was thinking.

I sighed in defeat and reached over to pick up another wand, looked at Fred who nodded his head hungrily. Just as I was about to give myself a beating in the good name of experimentation, the door to our room swung open.

"Fred, George," Ron gasped! It looked like he had just run up the stairs, while skipping three at a time. "You won't believe it! You just won't believe it! Dad just got home and –" Ron cut off as he looked at what we are doing. He looked at the wand in my hand, the ingredients on our desks, the list still in Fred's hands, and the mouse that use to be a wand gnawing at a piece of bread that was left on the floor.

"You're still doing the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" he asked, both astonished and worried.

"Yeah, and your nose still is bigger than Dumbledore's," Fred shot back. "You don't see us standing around gawking."

Ron snapped out of his trance at these words. "I'm not gawking," he responded defensively. "I just don't want to be around when Mum finds out."

"Well you can be around all you want, because she won't find." I ended the subject with that. I put down the fake wand and picked up my real one. "That is, she won't find out if you want to live long enough to see the final products," I added on, pointing my wand at Ron.

"Why the bloody hell would I tell Mum," Ron asked, shocked and defensive? "I love Weasley Wizard Wheezes. I wouldn't want Mum and Dad to chuck them."

"Just giving you a fair reminder, that all," Fred told our baby brother. "Now what is it you came bursting in here for? Something about dad, I heard. Did he find out how airplanes fly or some other weird Muggle thing now?"

"No," Ron answered, the annoyance that was on his face from our insinuations that he would pull a Percy or a Hermione and squeal on us disappeared, replaced by one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen him wear. "He got them."

Fred and I looked at him, waiting for more.

"Got what," Fred asked?

"Dad. He just got them," was the response our dear brother decided to give, for some reason giving emphasis on the word 'them'.

"Again, got what" Fred repeated, sounding more agitated than before. Not that I could have blamed him. Ron was wasting time that could be used testing our products. Clearly he was like me and not catching on with what Ron was trying to say.

"The tickets. Dad got the tickets."

At once our attitudes changed. A smile exploded onto my face.

"Are you serious," Fred asked, no longer agitated, but excited and energetic. The both of us stood up at once and moved closer to Ron. "Tell me you're serious. You wouldn't dare doing something like this unless it was for real, 'cause you know precisely what would happen." Fred raised his fist menacingly while I just put my wand up against Ron's chest.

There wasn't fear of any kind on Ron's face. One corner of his mouth rose as he pulled something out from his back pocket. Scratch that. Not something. Something's! With one in each hand, he placed them in front of our faces. They were too close for to read all of it, but close enough that we could read the most important part.

They were tickets; Tickets to the Quidditch World Cup.

Ginny later told us that she thought one of our experiments went horribly wrong; we were so loud and incomprehensible. I don't even remember what I said. All I remember is what mattered: We were going to the World Cup.

We, as in us, the Weasley's, were going to the Quidditch World Cup. Bulgaria verses Ireland. In the best seats in the entire stadium. Where we would see the Quidditch World Cup. This would include seeing the world's greatest seeker, Viktor Krum.

It was so unbelievable and wonderful at the same time. After we calmed down, Fred and I just sat at our desks, Wizard Wheezes thrust out of our minds, just looking at the tickets.

Then a sharp THUP was heard by my ear. "Argh! What was that for, you git!?" Ron had smacked my head, rather hard. Judging by the way Fred was holding his ear, the same thing had happened to him.

"You were sitting there for nearly two minutes." Ron explained. "I have been trying to get your attention. I thought I should wake you up from La La Land and tell you that Dad wanted to talk to us after I gave you the tickets.

"Right," Fred replied distractedly. Apparently he was still looking at his ticket. "Dad."

"Let's go." I got to my feet and, with ticket still in hand, followed Ron out of our room. The familiar squeak of an old chair told me that Fred had gotten up and was following as well.

On the way downstairs we ran into Percy. He was none too pleased with the way we received our tickets.

"You ruined my letter to Mr. Crouch," he scolded us. "I was just in the middle of telling him that the cauldron reports were half-way completed when your buffoonery made my quill pierce my parchment and slice through it."

"Ah shucks Perce, were sorry. If we had known that we were interrupting something of such life-and-death importance, we would have been quieter" Fred responded, patting our older brother on the back.

"Yes, well, see too it that it never happens again," was all Percy had too say before we reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the kitchen.

"Aye-aye, Mister Weatherby, sir," I mocked saluted him. Percy didn't see the salute, but he had heard the name I called him, which just so happens to be what the all-great-and-powerful Mr. Crouch called him, he never learn his name properly. Percy blushed slightly and sat down next to Ginny and Charlie at the kitchen table without saying anymore.

Ron sat on the other side of Ginny, while Fred and I had taken a seat next too Bill on the other side of the table, who had just arrived the day before from Egypt. He hadn't been in the door for more than 5 minutes before Mum was on him about his ponytail and his dragon fang earrings. (This was, of course after she gushed for about 3 minutes about how great it was to have the entire family under the roof again, for Charlie returned home from Romania 3 days earlier.) She didn't get that the only person who didn't like them besides her was Percy; Ron, Fred and I all said 'Cool' when we first saw him; Ginny kept giggling whenever she saw the earrings; we knew Charlie likes his look 'cause, according to Bill, the ponytail was his idea; Dad only said he thought they were too extreme when Mum gave him one of those infamous glare. We heard him later tell Bill that he really liked the look, and was just playing it up for Mum.

We were in a discussion with Bill about whom we thought was going to win the cup (Bill said Bulgaria, Ireland for us), when Mum and Dad entered the kitchen.

Mum went to sit in her seat at her end of the table, while Dad stood at the head.

"The Weasley's are going to the World Cup," Dad began. "At least most of us will be. Your mother generously stepped down after Ludo Bagman, whom I got the tickets from, said that he could only get us 10."

"But if there are ten tickets, Dad," Bill interrupted, "why can't Mother come?"

"Well, Bill, we were aiming for 11. That way Ron could bring Harry and Hermione with him and all of us could go. But Bagman made it explicitly clear that he could only provide 10. So, as I said, your mother decided to step aside so we could all go with Harry and Hermione can go. That is, if they want to," Dad added, looking to Ron. "They do want to go, right?"

"Oh yes!" Ron laughed back, as if that question was a rather stupid one to ask. "Half of the letters Harry has sent me have asked about the cup. And Hermione said that she would love to go because," he coughed a little and cleared his throat, and when he had spoken next, he spoke with a high feminine voice, clearly trying to imitate Hermione, "it would be ever so fun, particularly pleasant, and a wonderful experience. Plus we will get a chance to see all of the different wizards from different countries and how they adapt to English customs." He then looked around to see what we all had thought of his impression.

Mum and Percy were the only ones who didn't smile. Ginny looked like she was trying not to bust a gut. Even Bill and Charlie, who hadn't met Hermione, chuckled. They were undoubtedly told by Ron and Ginny how smart and bossy she was. Fred and I, on the other hand, both sniggered and gave each other sly glances, partly because of the impression, but mostly we were thinking of the look on Ron's face when Hermione would confront him after we told her, I mean, let it slip to her, about said impression.

Even Dad couldn't keep a chuckle out of his voice when he spoke next. "Excellent Ron. I expect you to send them an owl after were done her telling them that we have the tickets, and we will be picking them up sometime in the next week." Ron nodded and continued to listen. "Now, speaking of Harry, Molly, I believe that you wanted to say something about our friend?"

Mum got up at her end while Dad took a seat at his.

"Thank you Arthur, dear." Mum nodded her thanks to Dad. "Now," she started looking around the table, "Bill and Charlie, this first bit is for you."

My two eldest siblings looked at each other rather worried. 'What does she need to tell us?' they obviously asked themselves. 'We haven't even met Harry.'

That was apparently Mum's point as she continued "The two of you are the only ones who haven't met Harry. There for I have to ask you not to ask him anything he might find uncomfortable, such as if he can show you his scar, and whether or not he remembers You-Know-Who or anything about that terrible night. I know that you to know better, and the thought to ask won't even cross your minds," she quickly added, seeing that Charlie was about to protest on both of their behalves. "I just want to make sure that you know to resist the urge if the thought comes up. Because I know that too those that haven't met him yet, he is still the Boy-Who-Lived and not just Harry like he is to his friends.

"On another note about Harry, and this goes to all of you, except Ron, who was their," she looked around the room, making sure to meet the eyes of all of us children, even Ron, when she mentioned him. "I don't want any of you to be asking Harry about what happened the night he met Sirius Black." I had thought I saw a flicker of something in Ron's eyes as Mum said this. Was it unease? But I brushed it off as I returned my attention back to Mum. "It was only a few weeks ago, and it was in the Daily Prophet that he had a confrontation with him on school grounds, a confrontation which he nearly died from, may I remind you." Mum paused for a few seconds. Apparently the thought of Harry dying was almost as bad as the thought that Ginny might have died back in our 4th year. She pulled herself together again and continued. "I don't want him to be reminded of what it was like to meet that madman," Ron had that flicker in his eyes again, "any more than I want him to be reminded of You-Know-Who.

"The fact that Black got away just when he was caught, I'm sure, made it even worse," my Dad added. Mom nodded in agreement, but I set myself to look at Ron this time. He didn't have a flicker in his eyes this time around, but his mouth did seem to curl in the corner. He noticed that I was watching him. His mouth went back to a frown and gave me a 'What-Are-You-Looking-At' face.

"Nobody here would mention any of those things," Ginny said, looking around at the family, looking for support. I saw that every one agreed whole heartedly. The last thing we wanted before the World Cup was for Harry to go into the depression mode that he seemed to in a lot of the time last year. "We all care too much about him to remind him of horrible stuff like that."

"I know Ginny dear, I know," Mum reassured Ginny. "I realize that no one here would ever intentionally hurt Harry. I just wanted to remind you all.

"Now, there is one last thing I want to say about Harry. Don't worry Ron. Ginny," Mum starts, when she sees the two try to interrupt. "This is about how we will be picking him up. It would be rude to just arrive at his Aunt and Uncle's house uninvited."

Ron, Fred, and I exchange looks. Knowing Mum as well as we do, we knew where this was going.

"Therefore, I think that we should send them some sort a letter explaining that we are coming to take him and that he will be staying with us for the rest of summer, and not to worry."

"Mum, no," Ron intervened. "That would be a horrible idea."

"Seriously Mum, Ron's right. We went to the Dursley's once, remember," Fred continued off of Ron's statement.

"There were bars on his windows!" I reminded Mum.

"They hate wizards. If we show up on their doorsteps, invitation or no invitation, they will not be very happy," Ron continued, desperate for Mum to understand.

"I am very aware of all this, boys," Mum told us, rather stern for some reason. "That's why I wish to send them a letter so that they will be expecting us and they won't get angry with Harry."

"Like they aren't already mad at him for existing," Ginny said in a rather dangerous way under her breath, but in a way that indicates that she wasn't trying to keep it to herself.

"Now," Mum continued as if Ginny hadn't said anything, "that's really all I wanted to say. Arthur, is their anything else that you wanted to say?"

"No," Dad thought about it for a second. "No, I think that is all. You all can go."

The family dispersed, going to their different parts of the house. Percy and Ron headed back upstairs; Percy was undoubtedly going to go fix his letter while Ron was probably going to write to Harry and Hermione; Mum went into the kitchen to start up dinner; Bill went to help her; Dad picked up the latest Daily Prophet and went to go read it in the family room; Charlie said that he was going to go for a walk around the property; Ginny, Fred and I were the only ones who hadn't gotten up yet. Our sister was clearly too lost in thought, and didn't seem to notice that the rest of the family had left.

She just wasn't thinking about any little old thing either. The look on her face was one that we have seen on her face for the past 3 years. She got this look whenever she went into deep thought about a certain legendary friend of ours. And that slight frown on the corner of her lips told us that it was a rather unpleasant mental discussion.

As Fred and I got up from the table, I nudged Fred in the ribs and pointed at our little sister. He raised his eyebrows at me, clearly pondering what I was pondering. I smirked and jerked my head in Ginny's direction.

Taking the lead, Fred said, "What ya thinking, Gin?"

The sound of her name snapped Ginny out of her thought cloud she was flying through. She whipped her head up at the both of us and said, "What? What are you talking about? I wasn't thinking about anything" in a voice that told that she had, in fact, been thinking about something that she was slightly embarrassed about.

"Well, you looked like you had a hippogriff sitting on your mind with the way you hadn't noticed everyone leave," I pointed out to her.

"And you didn't even look up when I called your name the first 3 times," Fred convincingly lied.

"Well, I… uh…," she looked at us with a mixture of defeat and resentment. "Well so what if I was thinking? Am I not aloud to think or something?" she snapped at us accusingly!

"Not at all, sister dear," I reassured her while Fred went over a put his hands on his shoulders. "We just want what's best for you. That's all."

"And thinking about certain boys and how you would like to put his repugnant excuse for a family on the receiving end of one of your fabled Bat-Bogey Hexes isn't anywhere near the best for you," I added.

"Although it's not a bad thought," Fred said thoughtfully, as if he was going to go out and curse those evil gits himself.

"I just can't help it," Ginny sighed, with a look of shame upon her face. "Those damn Dursley's just make me so mad. I wish there was some way I could get them back for what they have done too Harry his whole life. He hasn't done anything but exist, and they treat him as if he was some kind of monster or a disease. It makes me so mad!"

Fred and I shared another one of those twin looks that everyone talked about. We are probably the only ones in the family that knows that Ginny's feelings for Harry aren't just some girlish crush, or some form of hero-worship for what he did for her in her 1st year. She cares for him, in a real and serious way. Most people, including the rest of the family, think that Ginny is too young to be thinking about things like that; Fred and I know different. We know that Ginny's experience with Riddle and his diary aged her in ways other people her age should never have to age. She grew up drastically, maturity and emotionally wise, so she knows and can handle her emotions better than a lot of people in school can. So, while we tease her relentlessly about a lot of things, and people don't take us seriously on a lot of subjects (Rightfully so, if I do say so myself), Fred and I are dead serious when it comes to Ginny and her happiness. We probably look after and protect her most out of all our siblings. (If you couldn't tell, almost losing Ginny really made us grow up, at least in dealings with our sister).

So, when things that she takes deadly serious like the Dursley's treatment of Harry start to get her down and bummed, their is only one thing we can do: Do something about it, and fast.

"Hey, Ginny," I cupped her chin and made her look at me, all joking and teasing was aside and actually trying to be the brother Mum wanted us to be, "listen to me. Fred and I will give those bigot Muggle's a real reason to fear wizards for how they treat Harry. Believe me. We will make them sorry. I promise."

"Are you serious, or are you just teasing me again?" Ginny accused me, but sort of looked like she partly believed me behind those brown eyes.

"Hey," Fred chipped in, "when have we ever broken a promise to make mischief? Don't you fret, little sis, we will get it done. Trust us." He winked at her.

Ginny beamed at us. Then she did something to us that she only did the first time we saw her after Harry saved her from Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets; she got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around my waist. She gave my waist a squeeze in thanks, than kissed my cheek. She let go and did the same thing to Fred.

Now we are the ones who were blushing up to our hair. Ginny lets go of Fred and we could see that she was as well.

"Thanks guys," she said. And saying nothing more, she ran upstairs.

The both of us just stood there until we heard her door slam shut (She wasn't angry, but the doors close really hard in the Burrow). I finally said "What are brothers for". It just felt like the right thing to say, even if Ginny couldn't hear us.

Fred and I gave each other a look that showed that we are both thinking the same thing:

'We'd better come up with something really good.'

End Chapter One

Chapter Two: Hermione Jane Granger