4. Hit the Road

"That wasn't funny, Fred!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. "I just dropped it... It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"He has a point." You said sheepishly.

"No, (Y/n), he dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!". Harry, (Y/n) and the Weasleys roared with laughter again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley." said Harry earnestly.

"That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother-"

"Tell me what?" said a voice behind them. Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen. Everyone went quiet.

"Oh hello, Harry, dear." she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated. You could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then Hermione and Ginny appeared in the kitchen. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet, she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow. It was pretty obvious.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just- but I've had words with them-"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes-"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last-"

"We can all go." said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, finally catching on "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come too." said George.

"You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories.

"I'll go with them-" You said backing away but hit something, or more like somebody behind you. It was Charlie.

"You stay here as well. Weren't you a part of this too?" Charlie grinned. That's what he meant by revenge, you thought. You stared at him in disbelief.

"(Y/n), you were in this too?" Mrs. Weasley asked in disbelief, you looked down at the floor and nodded. "I expected more of you." The disappointment in Molly's voice was heartbreaking, but there was nothing to say. She was right. It was wrong to test that product on a kid, especially if it was a muggle.

After a while of Mrs. Weasley arguing with the twins and probably banning their products from her house, it was time for dinner. The twins and you were excused, as you three didn't have an appetite after what had happened. You all went to the twins' room, chatted and made each other feel a bit better. You spent hours in that room with the twins trying to lift their moods and they trying to lift yours.

It was late, you said good night to the boys and headed to your room to sleep. Tomorrow would be the day you were going to the Quidditch World Cup and you couldn't be more excited.

---

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, the Weasley family, along with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and (Y/n), found themselves standing atop a rolling hill in the countryside. It was a picturesque scene, with fields of tall grass swaying in the gentle breeze and a sense of excitement lingering in the air.

The occasion was none other than the Quidditch World Cup, a magical sporting event that wizards and witches from all over the world looked forward to. The Weasleys had been eagerly anticipating this event, and Mr. Weasley had gone to great lengths to secure tickets for his family and friends.

The journey to this remote location had been an adventure in itself. The group had traveled by a series of magical means, including the Floo Network and a Portkey, which had left them standing on this hill with a sense of anticipation.

Amidst the rolling hills and the fading light, the Weasley patriarch, Arthur Weasley, was busy explaining the situation to the group. He was a tall, thin man with a mop of red hair and a perpetual look of wonderment about the magical world. His enthusiasm for all things Muggle and magical was infectious.

"Er -yes- sorry about that," Mr. Weasley said, looking over his shoulder at the fireplace that had exploded earlier. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see, just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking, but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel, and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I disapparate."

The Dursleys, Harry's non-magical relatives, who had been thrust into this world of magic, stood on the other side, bewildered and angry. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and their son Dudley looked thoroughly out of place, surrounded by wizards and witches. Aunt Petunia was clutching her ample bosom, as if the ordeal had given her a heart attack.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and (Y/n) exchanged amused glances at the chaotic scene. It seemed that every Weasley child had inherited their father's knack for getting into peculiar situations.

As Mr. Weasley attempted to explain the mishap to the Dursleys, you couldn't help but notice the twins, Fred and George, sporting identical mischievous grins. It was evident that they found the situation amusing, and you knew they were likely the instigators of whatever prank had caused the fireplace explosion.

Mrs. Weasley, a sturdy and warm-hearted woman with flaming red hair and a kind smile, soon joined the scene. She took in the chaos, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between her husband and the twins.

"Tell me what?" she asked, her tone carrying a sense of authority that suggested she would not be pleased with the answer.

Mr. Weasley hesitated, caught between his loyalty to his wife and his desire to protect his sons from her wrath. The twins looked slightly guilty but still wore their cheeky grins.

Then, Hermione intervened with a clever diversion. "Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" she suggested.

Ron, always eager for an escape from trouble, readily agreed. "He knows where he's sleeping," Ron began to explain, but Hermione shot him a meaningful look.

"We can all go," Hermione added pointedly.

The twins, knowing that they were likely to be in trouble, wisely kept their distance and did not object to Hermione's suggestion. Mrs. Weasley turned her attention back to her husband, who stammered out an explanation of the mishap.

With the group now excused from the scene of chaos, you joined the others as they headed up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the Burrow. The old house seemed to have a life of its own, with odd twists and turns that added to its charm.

"I'll go with them-" You began to say but bumped into Charlie Weasley, one of the older Weasley siblings.

"You stay here as well. Weren't you a part of this too?" Charlie teased with a grin. It was then that you realized that Charlie's revenge, as promised earlier, was to expose your involvement in the prank. You couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief.

"(Y/n), you were in this too?" Mrs. Weasley's voice held disappointment, which tugged at your conscience. You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. She was right; it was wrong to test such a prank on a Muggle child, even if he was a bully.

After a while of Mrs. Weasley's heated discussion with the twins, you all settled down for dinner. The twins, as well as yourself, had lost your appetite after the day's events. You retreated to the twins' room, where you spent hours chatting and trying to lift one another's spirits.

Finally, as exhaustion set in, you said your good-nights to the twins and headed to your room to sleep. Tomorrow was the day of the Quidditch World Cup, and despite the earlier turmoil, you couldn't help but feel excitement bubbling within you.

The dawn of the next day brought a new sense of anticipation. You said your goodbyes to Mrs. Weasley, and the group set off on foot to find the Portkey that would transport them to the Quidditch World Cup site. Everyone was eager, and the sight of the Diggory family on the hill signaled that the adventure was about to begin.

Amos Diggory, holding an old boot that served as the Portkey, greeted the group warmly. Harry, Hermione, and yourself were introduced, and Amos couldn't contain his surprise at meeting Harry Potter.

With the Portkey in hand, Amos Diggory initiated the journey to the Quidditch World Cup site, and with a sudden yank, the group was whisked away, leaving the rolling hills and the stars behind. The adventure was underway, and you couldn't wait to see what awaited you at the World Cup.