Harry: *suddenly shooting awake* Ron, don't touch that.
Ron: *lowering his hand* How did you know?
Harry: After four years, I've gained a sixth sense for this *sees it's still dark outside* What time is it?
Fred: Four a.m.
George: Now go back to sleep. We're trying to make contraband here.
Harry: You have two government employees living in this house. How the hell do you keep getting away with this shit?
Fred: How competent are they?
Harry: …a reasonable point…
George: Exactly. Now, go to sleep while we…
Molly: *bursting into the room* WAKE THE FUCK UP *sees they're all awake* Oh, good, you already are. Guess you're really excited for the World Cu… *sees what Fred and George are doing* Fred, George, what are you doing there?
Fred: Investing in our future.
Molly: What did I tell you about that?
George: What an awful mother you are, telling her children not to follow their dreams.
Molly: If you're good enough to do this, why didn't you do better in your O.W.L.s?
Fred: Hey, we got three each.
George: We even got one in Herbology. Do you know how few people give a shit about that subject?
Ron: Neville likes it.
Harry: Exactly, no-one important likes it.
Molly: Whatever, just get ready.
Fred and George: Yes mum.
Molly: But first, ACCIO CONTRABAND! *piles of candies, as well as things that appear to be toys and other fake items, fly at Molly, knocking her backwards and down the stairs*
Harry: *as more and more stuff flew out of the room* Jesus, how much stuff did you make?
Fred: If our stash were bots, they'd be T-Series's entire subscriber list.
*later*
Arthur: Well, we're off.
Harry: Wait, where are Bill, Charlie, and Percy? I mean, I don't care if those last two join us, I just thought they'd be here with us.
Molly: Oh, they can Apparate, so they'll be coming down at a more reasonable hour.
Harry: WHAT?! Can't Arthur just Apparate us to…
Molly: Harry dear, do you really trust him to do that with six other people successfully?
Harry: …then why don't you do it?
Molly: Because I want to punish Fred and George for disobeying me.
Hermione: So why are the rest of us up?
Molly: To get angry with them for making me get you up at four in the morning for no real reason.
Ginny: That's evil. I love it.
Harry: Of course you do. So, I guess we're getting there by…walking?
Arthur: You can if you want. The rest of us are going to grab a boot.
Harry: …what?
*an hour and a half later, at the top of a hill*
Harry: Again I ask…what?
Fred: It's a portkey, Harry.
Harry: I don't come from a magical family, Fred.
George: Magic teleporting item. It'll take us to the World Cup at a set time.
Harry: So, instead of teleporting with Apparation, we're teleporting with a boot?
Ron: It's cool, right?
Harry: It's stupid, but plot's gotta plot, right? Actually, that raises a good question: why is it here, instead of at your house?
Ron: For the other people living in this area, duh.
Harry: Who the hell else would want to get up at this ungodly hour of the morning to grab a smelly old boot when they can apparate?
Amos Diggory: Hey Arthur, have you seen a smelly old boot around here? We need to grab it to get to the World Cup.
Harry: …you're fucking kidding me.
Cedric: Hey Bella, what's up?
Harry: Hey, don't call me Bella. What is this, a hollyheadharper fanfic?
Ron: I thought their name was ActualWeeb?
Harry: Things change Ron, keep up.
Cedric: Sorry, I just really like the name Bella…
Fred: Really? That's the reference we're going with?
George: Now we hate you even more.
Harry: Why do you hate him in the first place?
Amos: Oh, they're just jealous that my boy Cedric beat the great Harry Potter in Quidditch.
Harry: You realise he only won because I fell off my broom while being attacked by dementors, right?
Amos: Pfft, details.
Fred: Well, you're kind of a dick.
George: We should hate him even more, right Harry?
Harry: I don't hate him.
Fred and George: But you just said…
Harry: I fell off my broom, and it was raining very heavily. Frankly, I'd have done the exact same thing, if only to get out of the rain.
Cedric: Thanks Harry. I look forward to playing you in Quidditch this year, so we can settle this once and for all in a fair contest.
Arthur: You're assuming you'll be playing Quidditch this year.
Harry: What's that supposed to mean?
Arthur: So, was there anyone else coming Amos?
Amos: Nah, the Lovegoods are there, and the Fawcetts aren't going.
Hermione: Who are the Fawcetts?
Harry: Who cares?
Ron: Not gonna ask who the Lovegoods are?
Harry: I'm sure we'll find out soon enough.
Arthur: Guys, it's about to go *everyone grabs hold of the boot* Any second now *nothing for about fifteen seconds* Just give it another moment…
Harry: I can't believe we listened to *suddenly gets whisked away* HOLY FUUUUUUUUUU…