FicWad

The next day, they woke up as they usually did, and did not say a thing about what had happened the previous night. Harry figured it must have been a one-time thing, and did not dive further into the subject. Anyway, they were too busy packing and cleaning to have much time for conversation.

At one o'clock the Weasleys came by to pick them up via their car, so for once Harry and Eve managed to leave the house of Dursley without too much of a scene (though Vernon looked on disdainfully at Arthur Weasley's old and battered Ford Anglia).

xXx

It was the morning of. The Quidditch match. The you know what (QUIDDITCH!) played between you know who (KRUM!) at the you know where (RANDOM STADIUM UNSEEABLE BY MUGGLES!).

BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Eve…" Harry blearily shook his sister, who was as usual, completely out of it. They slept in an old bed in Ron's room. Originally Ms. Weasley was quite confused as to why Harry and Eve needed to share the same bed "Oh dears, it's not that I am against it, it's just I find it odd since Ronald and Ginerva have NEVER expressed a desire to sleep together." Which caused the Ginny to go "EWW! Mom!" and Ron to sniff his nose in disgust.

So it was a bit weird, but Harry and Eve both insisted on it, but Molly Weasley still seemed troubled. "Eve dear, I thought originally you might want to board up with Ginny and Hermione, I know you girls like to engage in all of that girl talk."

"It's not that I don't like being with Hermione and Ginny" Eve said brightly, "in fact I love hanging out with them. But I simply can't fall asleep if I'm not with my brother." And so the Weasley matriarch had finally relented.

A noise came from the other side of the room, where Ron had groggily woke up to smash the alarm to pieces. "Time to wake up! Time to wake up!" The broken clock droned on, in a disembodied voice.

"Bloody hell, it's still dark out!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked over at the Potters. "You two awake yet?" After 3 years of sleeping in the same room with Harry and Eve, Ron was pretty used to the sight of his best friend and twin sister sleeping together, although he still thought it was a bit weird.

"Yeah, we're getting up." Harry called, shaking his sister some more.

"Ah… brother, kiss me, I want you, mmmmm" Eve mumbled softly, seemingly deep in fantasy land, her mouth slightly opened as she drooled over Harry's chest.

Harry coughed violently to cover up his sister's inappropriate utterances. Sleeping together platonically was one thing, but if anyone ever found out that they had actually kissed two nights ago, why, it would deeply offend some people and cast them as outcasts.

Fortunately, Ron seemed to not have heard Eve as he was digging through a giant pile of clothes in his closet and trying to find something to wear and pack.

"EVE! Get up! The Quidditch World Cup is today!" Harry yelled in his sister's ear, and finally she stirred.

"Huh? Ughh, what time is it?! Why did you wake me up from my dream, it was so good…" She said, glaring at Harry cutely, pretending to be mad at him.

"… I'm sure it was very nice," he replied, signaling with his head that they were not alone. He could easily guess what the dream was about. "But if we don't hurry up and get dressed, we're going to miss the portkey, and Ron is already up."

She harrumphed and sat up, looking around. "Oh, good morning Ronald."

"G-good morning," Ron said, taking a look over. "You excited about today's match?" He asked, his voice rising a bit. Eve and her brother's best friend had always gotten along, but recently it seemed that the redhead boy was behaving rather oddly around her.

"Hell yeah!" She whooped, causing Harry to grunt slightly in pain as she had bounced a bit while still straddling his pelvis. "Krum is going to totally dominate!" Eve, it turns out, was a big Viktor Krum fan.

xXx

"Alright dears, be safe all of you. I want to hear no trouble from your father when you lot return, is that clear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, especially focusing on Fred and George, who innocently nodded in unison.

Arthur Weasley led the seven teenagers – Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Fred, George, Harry, and Eve out of the Burrow and to the hilltop, where they were to find a portkey and be transported to the Quidditch World Cup site at exactly 6 in the morning.

"Will you look at that," Fred spoke, as they trudged up the hill, taking in the views of the mountainous countryside and rolling plains. He was pointing towards a red gleam of light in the distance, the beginning of a beautiful sunrise, and a beautiful day. "Makes it slightly worth it to have to wake up at the bloody asscrack of dawn."

"Language, Fred." Arthur said mildly, but he was smiling. "Ah, nature, a kind of magic that cannot be expressed, shared by muggles and wizards alike!" He began to wax poetic about the idea that even Muggles had their own forms of "magic."

Eve gripped her brother's arm tightly as they walked, huddling together as it was still rather cold in the chilly, brisk morning. "Harry," she said in a low voice, "did I say anything… potentially embarrassing… while I was asleep earlier?"

"No, you didn't, don't worry." He lied. The two of them hadn't had a chance to talk seriously since they arrived at the Weasleys, and it was probably for the better. He still wasn't sure how their relationship might change because of it, and to be honest, he was afraid of finding out. It might mean a lot of awkwardness.

She looked relieved. "Good… because I had quite a vivid dream…"

"Really now? What was it about?" Harry feigned ignorance.

She looked as if she were about to answer, then decided against it. "Race you to the top!"

xXx

At the top of the hill, they had run into Amos Diggory and his son Cedric, who lived close by and were using the same portkey, which was an old boot.

"Ah, Arthur! How are you?" Amos spoke in a loud, booming voice.

"Never better, Amos. And you? Your son here?"

"Indeed," Amos ruffled his son's hair proudly. "Cedric here is taking his Apparition exams in a few months, so I figured we'd do things the traditional way. After all, taking the portkey is an experience quite wonderful, one that Apparition simply cannot replicate."

Mr. Weasley smiled. "That's what I've been tell my children all this time! By the way, this is my children Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and their friends Hermione Granger, Harry and Eve Potter."

They all exchanged greetings, except Eve who deliberately ignored Cedric when he tried to shake her hand. She never quite forgave him for having caught the snitch against Harry the previous year, when the Dementors had arrived in the pitch and caused him to drop nearly a thousand feet before Dumbledore saved him.

So they all held on to the dusty old boot in the middle of the field, and soon were transported to the Quidditch stadium site.

"Alright kids, let's set up the tents!" Arthur directed, waving goodbye to the Diggory's as they found their camp, with the name "Weezly."

They spent a while setting up two tents, one for the Weasley males, and another for Hermione, Ginny, Eve, and Harry. The decision to put Harry in the girl's tent was made after they realized that the Weasley male tent would get very, very full if Eve also had to crash there.

As Arthur, Fred, George, and Ginny were setting up the inside of the tent and trying to start a fire, Harry, Eve, Ron, and Hermione ducked out of the tent to go fetch some water, as Mr. Weasley wanted them to do things the "old-fashioned, Muggle way."

Walking across the field, they passed by an endless number of tents of foreign wizards and witches, the likes that Harry had never seen before. His sister pointed excitedly at a group of Indian wizards huddling around what looked to be a magical flying carpet. "Look at that Harry! Just like in Aladdin!"

Harry nodded in agreement, ever since he and Eve entered the magical world, they had never ceased to be amazed by how it seemed every Muggle fairy tale most likely took their inspiration from something that actually existed in the Wizarding World. Hermione too, voiced her wonder, although Ron just seemed bored as if he had grew up with flying carpets all his life.

They walked by some more tents – tents full of green and shamrocks, supporting Ireland (where they ran into Seamus Finnigan and his mom), and then past the Bulgarian camp, which was full of posters with the one and only surly face of Viktor Krum plastered all over them.

Then they walked by some elegant-looking tents, and there was a group of French witches speaking very quickly, talking about some kind of "le tournoi" which Harry did not understand.

"Excusez-moi!" Eve piped up, "What 'tournoi' are you guys referring to?" She was always a bit nosy, and because she had learned some French in primary school, and she was always looking for opportunities to practice it, no matter how unwilling her conversation partners were.

The leader of those French witches, an absolutely gorgeous girl with alabaster skin and silvery blonde hair, she turned around and gave the four of them a patronizing look.

"What doez it matter to you, English girl?" She asked, derisiveness in her voice. "L'esprit de votre propre entreprise, hmmph!" (Mind your own business!)

However, her friend, a dark-haired girl, seemed a nicer. "Don't so rude, Fleur, these English kids should know, after all, it is taking place at their school." She seemed to have noticed Harry. "And oh look, the famous Harry Potter, what an honor! I'm Isabella."

The rude French girl Fleur seemed to also be taken aback in surprise, as her eyes flickered to Harry's forehead. "Ze boy 'oo lived? I've 'eard a lot about you from my father. He is ze French Minister of Magic. I am Fleur Delacour."

She extended a hand, at which Harry shook, a little befuddled at her sudden change of attitude. "Nice to meet you. This is my sister Eve and my friends, Ron and Hermione." Her hands were soft and nimble, she had the air of being supremely graceful, yet he could also feel that she was rather powerful.

Ron was blushing quite heavily now while Hermione just seemed annoyed.

"Yes, yes, I am Harry's sister," Eve said, annoyed that they had ignored her. "Now tell me what is going on at my school this year!"

Fleur gave a haughty look. "Eet ez Le Tournoi de Trois Sorciers."

"The 'Triwizard Tournament?'" Eve translated, her eyes widening.

Hermione, being the bookworm she usually was, immediately explained for their benefit. "The last Triwizard Tournament occurred 200 years ago, it is a competition between the three magical schools of Western Europe, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. Each school is represented by a champion who competes in three tasks, or challenges, over the course of the year."

"Are 'ou done yet?" Fleur asked, while the other French witches next to her giggled.

Hermione flushed and looked down. Eve glared at the French witches for laughing at her friend. "So I'm guessing you 'socieres' are coming to our school this year?"

Fleur nodded. "Yes, sister of 'Arry Potter, we are coming to your school, and I plan to be 'ze champion and win ze Triwizard Cup for Beauxbatons, France, and my father!" She finished the last bit triumphantly.

There was a bit of silence as the others did not quite know how to respond to such a declaration. Ron looked as if he were going to say something, then turned pink and coughed violently.

"That's umm, great." Harry said, a bit awkwardly. "We look forward to seeing all of you then."

Fleur gave him only a slight nod, while Isabella waved good-bye to Harry and gave him an unusually friendly smile. The other French witches merely ignored them and continued talking in rapid French.

"What a pompous… grrr!" Hermione sputtered, clearly still annoyed at Fleur's putdown of her earlier. "I hate people that are so elitist just because of their parentage."

"She seemed pretty nice." Ron said dreamily.

"Don't lie Ronald, you just want to get in her pants." Eve laughed.

"I wasn't thinking that!"

Soon however, they ran into another group, that were if anything, even worse than Fleur and her friends.

"Well, well, if it isn't the two Potter orphans, their Weasley servant and the Mudblood." A snobbish voice drawled, causing them to turn around.

Draco Malfoy had sauntered up, with his usual bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. However near him were two girls – one, a statuesque, curvaceous girl with platinum blonde hair, a look of arrogance on her face. She was listening with amusement to her friend, a brunette, who appeared to be making fun of some poor bloke's lack of size with two hands about an inch apart.

Harry narrowed his eyes, while next to him, Eve clenched her fists. It was Draco's older sister, Celine Malfoy, a sixth year and a chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

While it was usually Draco and his cronies who bothered and pestered the Potter twins and their friends, Draco's sister Celine was a downright bitch if one happened to encounter her in an empty corridor.

In their first year, Harry and Ron were trying to find their classroom when they ran head first into third-year Celine Malfoy and her friend, Ella Montague. It was then that they were treated first hand to the sheer elitism and bitchiness exhibited by the self-professed Queen of Slytherin.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Ron asked angrily.

"The better question is, what are YOU doing here, Weasley?" Draco retorted. "Attending the Quidditch cup? Shouldn't you be in your farm gathering pumpkins?" Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

Ron looked furious. "Ron's family happened to invite US to the Quidditch World Cup!" Eve replied heatedly, sticking up for her friend.

The blonde boy snorted. "The Weasleys invited YOU? I worry where you lot might be sitting, surely I hope it's not in the nosebleeds?"

The nosebleed seats at the Quidditch Stadium were those immediately next to the pitch – they were termed thus because one had to frequently crane their neck vertically in order to see the action happening above – and therefore were the most inexpensive.

"Hardly." Eve said, icily. "We're all sitting in the top box."

Draco's sister Celine had turned her attention from her chatty friend, to the heated conversation occurring in front of her.

"Oh my, if it isn't the Potters and their little friends." Celine smirked. "My father would be thrilled to see such esteemed guests sitting at the top box. Oh sorry, poor little Miss Potter, so sad you don't have a father?" She taunted, looking at Eve.

"I'd rather not have a dad than have a Death Eater scum like yours." Eve spat.

Draco Malfoy looked furious. "You bitch! I'll show you-"

Celine put out a hand to stop her brother. "No need for that, Draco, where are your manners? This is a ladies' conversation now."

Then, turning to Eve, she made an offer. "How about a little wager on the match, Eve Potter? Seems like you're a Krum fan." She said, looking disdainfully at a small Krum figurine that Eve had purchased from a vendor along the way.

Celine and Eve were fierce rivals on the Quidditch field. Both of them chasers, they had more often than not intentionally fouled each other over the years, leading to many heated arguments and penalty shots. However, even Eve recognized that Celine, being two years older, was a better Chaser.

Eve had a glint in her eye, it seemed like her competitive streak was coming out again. "Okay, 100 Galleons on Bulgaria."

Celine scoffed. "That's a waste of my time. How about 5,000 Galleons at 2-1 odds? If Bulgaria wins, I'll pay you 10,000." Ron looked shocked at the amount of money being offered.

Harry wanted to warn his sister that Ireland were the favorites this year, but he knew that once she got going, it was almost impossible to stop her. While they had plenty of money left over from their parents, Eve was a bit reckless sometimes.

"You're on." Eve said immediately, her eyes flashing greedily.

"Oh, and one more thing, let's throw in an extra clause to make it fun shall we? If Ireland wins, I get your brother as my slave for the entire day." Celine said, giving Harry a wink and smiling evilly.

"Wait, what?" He asked, not sure why he was being dragged into this all of a sudden.

Celine and Harry had had a number of run-ins over the years, and to say that their relationship was quite interesting was putting it mildly. For some reason, she always happened to be trying to make him her personal slave, and her attitude towards him would oscillate rapidly from typical Malfoy snobbery to an almost sort of wanton flirting.

Eve narrowed her eyes. "And what happens if I win?"

Celine shrugged. "You get Draco for a day."

The crimson-haired Potter shook her head. "Ew. You call that an even trade? My brother is worth ten of yours."

"YOU BITCH!" Draco screamed, snarling at Eve and drawing out his wand.

"Ugh. Shut up Draco." Celine grabbed Draco's arm and twisted it, causing him to yelp in pain. "God, why are you so fucking useless?"

Ron was now guffawing loudly behind Harry, while Hermione looked close to giggling herself.

"You have to offer me something better than that, Celine. My brother for your brother is NOT a fair trade." Eve said, ignoring Harry's protests. She seemed determined to bet him.

"Fine." Celine said, glaring at Eve. "If you win, you get ME as your slave for an entire day. Happy?"

Eve seemed to think about it for a second, before nodding. "Okay. Deal."

"Hey!" Harry interrupted. "Hasn't anyone asked me what my opinion regarding this is?"

The two girls ignored him, clasping each other's hands in a rough handshake and giving the other an evil glare.

Then Celine looked at Harry and winked. "I look forward to having you as my slave, Mr. Potter. I have quite a number of plans for you."