The Potter Twins and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 1: Portkey's and Tents

We see a trio of tombstones all bearing the surname, Riddle, and the identical date of 1943.

We then see a snake crawling through the undergrowth.

An old man lights a gas oven with a match, he is preparing food.

He notices a light on in the large house opposite. This causes him to stop what he's doing and walk to the door.

He mutters, "bloody kids."

He leaves the house and heads towards the light.

….

The old man is wandering up to the house carrying a lantern. He opens the front door, inside it is just as dark. He begins climbing the stairs, we hear whispers and hushed voices coming from upstairs. The old man waits outside the room where a conversation is taking place and listens on.

Petigrew, or as he's called by his master, Wormtail, says, "but why here, my Lord, It seems so…. Inhospitable…."

A strange voice says, "how fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As I recall, only recently, you called the nearest gutter pipe home! Could it be that the task of nursing me has become worrisome for you?"

Wormtail, "no, my Lord! I only meant-"

The voice, "I have my reasons for coming here. Thirteen years worth of reasons!"

Wormtail, "oh, my Lord Voldemort. I only meant…. Perhaps if we were to do it without the boy's."

The voice, "no! The boys are everything, it cannot be done without them and it will be done exactly as I say. You best not disappoint me, or I'll make sure you end up like Bertha Jorkins!"

Wormtail shakes in fright.

An unknown man says, "I will not disappoint you my lord."

The voice, "good. First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign."

A snake slithers past the old man and into the room.

The voice, "Nagini tells me the old caretaker is standing outside the door."

Wormtail stands in the doorway and looks at the old man. The old man looks terrified.

The voice, "step aside so I can give our guest a proper greeting…."

A loud spell is cast….

….

…. Suddenly, Michael and Harry wake up in a flash of panic.

They lay flat on their backs, breathing hard. Like they'd just run a marathon. They had awoken from a vivid dream with their hands pressed over their faces. The scar on Harry's forehead and Michael's cheek are both burning beneath their fingers as though someone had just pressed hot irons to their skin.

They both sat up, one hand still on each scar. Harry reached out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and the bedroom came into clearer focus. Michael and Harry looked at one another.

Harry turned on the lamp beside them.

Michael rubbed his cheek as the events of the last few weeks came back to both of them.

After their return to Privet Drive, the twins had gotten treated much better. Mainly due to Vernon and Dudley thinking that, if they mistreated them, Sirius Black would pop out of nowhere and turn them into something unnatural. The boys had been allowed to keep their belongings in their rooms. And they managed to write to their Godfather and best friends over time. Petunia was able to be openly nice to them now.

And Michael had managed to start his training to become an Animagus after Dumbledore sent him a letter about his registration over the summer.

From one full moon to the next, Michael had carried a single Mandrake leaf in his mouth and put the saliva filled leaf with one of his hairs into a crystal phial that received the pure rays of the moon.

Then he added a silver teaspoon of dew from where neither sunlight nor human feet have touched for seven days, then added a chrysalis of a death's-head hawk moth to the phial. It had been tricky to find the moth. The whole mixture then has to be put in a quiet, dark place and leave it till the next electrical storm. Michael had gotten Harry to send it to Hogwarts, where it would be in his dorm during the next electrical storm. Now he had to wait for that storm to happen at Hogwarts.

And a few days ago, Harry and Michael had been invited to go see the Quidditch World Cup, and in a wild event involving floo powder, Harry and Michael had been staying at the burrow with the Weasley's.

They had even gotten to meet the older of Ron's siblings; Bill and Charlie. It was quite interesting to meet them, and learn more about them.

Michael had asked Charlie all about how Norbert was doing, and was happy to learn that she was doing just fine.

That's right.

She.

Norbert was in fact, a girl.

And thus, Michael guessed they should call her Norberta!

Anyway, the Potter twins had really enjoyed their time with Ron and his family….

Hermione runs into the room to see the twins flustered and panicking.

Hermione, "Harry! Michael! Are you alright?"

Michael, "y-yeah. Sorry, Hermione."

Harry, "bad dream."

Hermione, "sorry. Hope it wasn't too bad."

Michael, "it was the usual. That strange dream about that old house…. The snake…. Pettigrew and others we couldn't recognize."

Hermione, "well, I hope the dreams get better…. I'm gonna go wake up Ron. We're going to the World Cup today, after all."

Hermione goes over to Ron's bed.

Hermione, "wake up. Wake up Ronald!"

Ron, "bloody Hell."

Hermione, "honestly. Get dressed, and don't go back to sleep. Come on Ron! Your mother says breakfast is ready."

Ron groaned and got out of bed.

Michael, Harry and Hermione followed.

….

We later see Harry, Michael, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George all following Mr. Weasley.

Bill, Charlie and Percy were apparating to the World Cup.

The parents of the Weasley family had forced Fred and George to empty their pockets before the trip.

Harry, "where are we actually going?"

Michael, "yeah, it seems like we're just walking through the woods."

Ron, "don't know. Hey Dad! Where are we going?"

Mr. Weasley, "to the World Cup, remember? Now we just need the Portkey. It won't be big…. Come on…."

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when they all heard a shout.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

Mr. Weasley, "Amos."

Mr. Weasley smiled as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a wizard with a scrubby brown beard.

Mr. Weasley, "this is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

Cedric, "hi."

Everybody said hi back, except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. Harry seemed to let bygones be bygones.

Amos, "long walk, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley, "no, not too bad. We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

Amos, "had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still…. Not complaining. Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons. And the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy…."

Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Michael, Hermione, and Ginny.

Amos, "all these yours, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley, "oh no, only the redheads. This is Hermione, friend of Ron's, and Harry and Michael, two more friends."

Amos, "Merlin's beard. Harry? And Michael? Michael and Harry Potter?"

Harry, "er, yeah."

Michael, "that's us."

Harry and Michael were used to people looking curiously at them when they met them, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on their forehead and cheek, but it always made them feel uncomfortable.

Amos, "Ced's talked about you, of course. Told us all about playing against one of you last year…. I said to him, I said, Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that well…. You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent.

Michael, "well, it didn't quite go like that…."

Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

Cedric, "Harry fell off his broom, Dad. I told you…. It was an accident…."

Amos roared genially, slapping his son on his back, "yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman…. But the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

Michael kept himself from growling.

Mr. Weasley said quickly, pulling out his watch, "must be nearly time. Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

Amos, "no, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets."

Michael was happy that Luna's family would get to see the World Cup.

Amos, "there aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

Mr. Weasley, "no, it's just us. Now, we'd best get to the portkey before time runs out!"

Soon, the group walks up a rather large hill, with a boot sitting on the top.

Mr. Weasley, "that's it sir, just over there."

Harry, "why are they all standing around that manky old boot?"

Fred, "that isn't just any old manky boot mate."

George, "it's a portkey."

Everyone goes into a circle and puts their hands on the boot.

Amos, "time to go. Ready?"

Harry, "what's a portkey?"

Michael, "I wanna know that too."

Amos, "after three. One…. Two…."

Mr. Weasley, "Harry! Michael!"

Harry and Michael rush over and put their hands on the boot.

Amos, "three!"

There's a white flash and suddenly they're all flying through the air. Everyone cheers.

Mr. Weasley, "let go kids!"

Hermione, "what?"

Mr. Weasley, "let! Go!"

Michael, Harry, Hermione and the young Weasleys crash to the ground with a thump. Arthur, Amos and Cedric come down more gracefully.

The kids disentangle themselves and get to their feet.

Michael, "I think I just coughed up my spleen..."

They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

Michael thought, 'most wizards tend to dress like muggles already. What's their excuse?!'

Mr. Weasley, "morning, Basil."

Mr. Weasley picked up the boot and handed it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; the brothers could see an old newspaper, an empty can, and a punctured football.

Basil, "hello there, Arthur Not on duty, eh? It's alright for some…. We've been here all night…. You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite…. Weasley…. Weasley…. About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory…. Second field…. Ask for Mr. Payne."

Mr. Weasley, "thanks, Basil."

Mr. Weasley beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate was seen. Beyond it, Harry and Michael could just make out hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents.

Michael and Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for miles. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

Mr. Weasley, "morning."

The Muggle, "morning."

Mr. Weasley, "would you be Mr. Roberts?"

The Muggle, "aye, I would. And who're you?"

Mr. Weasley, "Weasley. Two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

Mr. Roberts, "aye, you've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

Mr. Weasley, "that's it."

Mr. Roberts, "you'll be paying now, then?"

Mr. Weasley, "ah, right, certainly."

He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry and Michael toward him.

Mr. Weasley, "help me, Harry, Michael."

He pulled out a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart.

A few minutes passed as Mr. Weasley kept asking the twins for help in paying with muggle money.

A wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes.

Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, the wizard muttered to Mr. Weasley, "been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He disapparated.

Ginny, "I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports. He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

Mr. Weasley, smiling and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "he should, but Ludo's always been a bit…. Well…. Lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had!"

Eventually, they make it to their tents, which are obviously magical, and as soon as they get inside, they see that it's much bigger on the inside.

Like Michael's favorite TV show!

Doctor... What's his name again?

After packing up everything, they began exploring the very large campsite.

They ran into a few of their friends from school as they explored.

"Harry! Michael! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, their fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

Seamus, "like the decorations? The Ministry's not too happy."

Mrs. Finnigan, "ah, why shouldn't we show our colors? You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course…."

She eyed Michael, Harry, Ron, and Hermione beadily. When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again.

Ron, "like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

Michael, "I haven't met a woman that frightening since Aunt Marge."

Hermione, "I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?"

Harry, "let's go and have a look."

He pointed to a large patch of tents upheld, where the Bulgarian flag, white, green and red, was fluttering in the breeze. The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

Ron, "Krum."

Hermione, "what?"

Ron, "Krum! Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

Hermione, "he looks really grumpy."

Ron, "'really grumpy?' Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see…."

Eventually, they got back to the tent, where Mr. Weasley had been dealing with various people from the Ministry who happened to be there.

Including Ludo Bagman, who had been very eager to bet on who would win against Fred and George, and was quite surprised to meet Michael and Harry.

Eventually, the conversation turned into:

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

Percy asked, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement, "Mr. Crouch?"

Bagman, "he speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…."

Fred, "anyone can speak Troll. All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

Mr. Weasley, "any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?"

Bagman, "not a worf. But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha…. Memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

Mr. Weasley, "you don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?"

Bagman, "Barty Crouch keeps saying that. But we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh, talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. Michael and Harry could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; the twins doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

Ludo, "pull up a bit of grass, Barty."

Mr. Crouch, "no thank you, Ludo. I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

Bagman, "oh is that what they're after? I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

Percy, "Mr. Crouch, would you like a cup of tea?"

Mr. Crouch, "Oh, yes, thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

Mr. Crouch, "oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur. Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley, "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

Mr. Crouch accepted a cup from Percy.

Crouch, "I doubt it, he's desperate to export here."

Bagman, "well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?"

Mr. Crouch, "Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle. I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve, but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

Bagnan, "so, been keeping busy, Barty?"

Mr. Crouch, "fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

Mr. Weasley, "I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?"

Bagman, "glad! Don't know when I've had more fun…. Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch, "we agreed not to make the announcement until all the details-"

Bagman, "oh details. They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts-"

Mr. Crouch, "oh Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know, thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

Bagman, "see you all later! You'll be up in the Top Box with me, I'm commentating!"

He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them disapparated.

Fred, "what's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?"

Mr. Weasley, "you'll find out soon enough. Percy, "it's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it. Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

Fred, "oh shut up, Weatherby…."

Michael snickers at that.

After that, the group went and got various souvenirs as the game was about to begin.

Such as the wizard equivalent to binoculars, the colors of the team they were rooting for, etc.

And with that, they all ran off to the game….

...

Reviews, (from the last story):

denni19molly: I might do an OC x Kim Possible fanfic... one day.

Guest: yes, Cho and Michael will eventually become a couple.

Bailey Radcliff: I'm glad you've enjoyed these stories so much.

Canadude2029: thanks so much. I'm glad you've enjoyed the story.

….

And thus we begin the 4th book.

I'll be following the book more than the film, so this'll be much longer than the previous 3 stories that followed the movies more.

Also, here are the results of my last Scooby Doo poll.

The love interests for Ken in Scooby Doo: Mysteries Incorporated will be; ALL THREE HEX GIRLS, at 9 votes! 14 if you count the votes for Lena Dupree and the Hex Girls. Maybe if enough people ask for her to join the relationship, I'll add her in. She is gonna get a redemption arc regardless though.

Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll. For those who voted on the other options who didn't win, thank you all, and maybe I'll do other Scooby Doo stories with those options.

Now with all that said, I've got a new poll up!

For an upcoming Ben 10 story, I'm gonna be having an OC replacing Ben. And so, this poll is to decide on his love interest/interests. The rules: vote on 7 options for a chance to help choose the love interest/interests.

More details about the story will be on the poll.