Chapter 1: Redheads and the Exploding Fireplace

It was a late summer night at Number Four Privet Drive, where Harry and I slept in our small room. The Dursley's had been oh-so-kind as to move Harry out of his cupboard and into my room, which usually was filled with Dudley's old things. I honestly didn't mind sharing a room with my little brother, it was nice – at times. We were close growing up, something that changed when I went to Hogwarts my first year without him. I'm not sure if it was resentment for leaving him or just plain jealously, but we weren't as close when I came back. It was different.

Something that wasn't different, something that will probably never change, was Harry talking in his sleep. Some days were worse than others, but today was exceptionally bad. It had almost been a couple hours of me staring at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep due to Harry's muttering. I flinched in shock when he suddenly sat up in his bed. Through the moonlight, I could hardly make out the fact that he was rubbing his forehead.

"Mornin', sweet dreams?" I asked sarcastically.

"Blimey, Cass," he replied startled, eyes squinting in my direction. He reached over and pulled his glasses off the desk, before sitting up in bed.

"You're not dreaming about old Moldy-pants again, are you?" I said.

Harry let out a sigh of frustration and ignored my question. That's a yes, if you didn't know. Honestly, I reckon that he's just got a broken third eye, but he refuses to believe me. I told him, just go talk to the crazy old bat – I mean Trelawney – and it'll be all fixed. Some herbs, some death omens, some crazy tea leaves, and he's all fixed! Easy-peasy.

Madam Chunk, my small Calico, decided to make an appearance and climbed out the top shelf of the wardrobe. Chunk, noticing Harry moving, made her way over to look for some love. Finally, with some peace and quiet, I quickly found my eyelid growing heavy.

I woke up the next morning to an empty, sunny room. From how brought the sun was, it had to be at least high noon. From downstairs, I heard Vernon and Harry talking loudly. Well, Vernon was yelling. I could hardly hear Harry.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof?" I heard him scream. I'd bet a million galleons that his face was bright red, maybe even purple.

I got ready quickly, throwing my hair in a bun while brushing my teeth. I'm really glad I wasn't Harry. Besides the obvious Moldy-pants drama, our Aunt and Uncle really hated him. They didn't like me, but Aunt Petunia seemed somewhat happy to have something resembling a daughter, whether or not she actually admitted it. Believe me, she still neglected me plenty, but I wasn't actually verbally and mentally abused like Harry. She bought me 'pretty' dresses and Oxford shoes. It may seem as a blessing, but Merlin – they are ugly. The only reason I wasn't thrown out of bed hours ago was because I wasn't a useless boy like Harry. They didn't see me as a total loss cause, they think I can be whipped into shape and become a good housewife. Petunia definitely would not approve of how often I sneak into the forest to be around the thestrals and bowtruckles.

Harry came in the room laughing, immediately feeding Hedwig when he noticed she came back. "We're going to the Cup, C!" He yelled, turning to me when he was done.

"The World Cup?" I asked, receiving a look like I was an idiot. How was I supposed to know? The World Cup is expensive, I don't even like Quidditch that much. A horrible offense, I know, but I rather not watch all of my friends fall to their immediate deaths four Saturday's a term.

Almost on cue, a small grey bird came colliding into us. I immediately recognized it as the owl Sirius gave Ron on the train last year. While Harry was still scrambling around to find out what happened, I grabbed the small owl. "You're a cute little thing, aren't you?" I cooed at it while it happily tried to peck my finger, "Yes you are, yes you are!"

"It'd be a lot cuter if it wasn't ramming into my head," Harry said, rubbing the top of his head where the bird collided. I rolled my eyes and put the owl down near Hedwig, who was clearly annoyed, so he could have some food and water.

Harry grabbed the two letters that the bird discarded on the floor, handing one to me and keeping one for himself. We both opened our letters, discharging the envelopes on the floor.

Get your trainers on, because we're taking people on a run for their money! WE'RE GOING TO THE CUP! What's your bet? How much money are you putting in? Let us know ASAP.

Love you, ginger

Forge

P.S. Ginny says hi

P.S.S. Don't tell Mum

I'm not sure who they're calling ginger. My hair is a dark red, almost brunette, whereas you could compare theirs to a firetruck. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the letter. The excitement was evident on Harry's face as he read his, the biggest smile that Number Four Privet Drive has ever seen.

By the time he finished reading his letter, which was inches longer than mine, Ron's owl was whizzing around the room. From her spot on my bed, Chunk was hissing violently and swatting the air above her, only about five meters out of reach. I gave both annoyed pets a treat while Harry tried to catch the small owl. "I thought you were a Seeker, Haz," I laughed, "This is a bigger target too."

"Very funny," he said, "I'll write a letter to Sirius, can you write one back to Ron saying that we can come and that we'll be ready?"

I pulled out a quill and started to write on the back of the parchment from the twins.

Ron, my least favorite Weasley,

How are you? Harry is dead and can't receive letters, but I'll be ready for you when you come. Can't wait to see Percy!

Hugs and kisses,

Cassia

I chuckled at my letter before folding it into an envelope. The thought of seeing Percy was repulsive, everyone else was okay. My favorite Weasley was sadly gone forever, now Prince of Dragons or something. Charlie was definitely the funniest one, but Ginny was a close second. The twins had an obvious sort of humor, but nothing can compare to Ginny's snide comments.

We released both owls with their own letters, before starting to pack our trunks. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of leaving here and being around sane people – and normal food.

Harry and I had been sitting around for hour waiting for the Weasley's to show up. The Dursley's were more anxious than ever. Vernon was in a full suit, one that showed off his large gut even more than the normal dress shirts he wore. Petunia was frantically cleaning, glancing out the window every chance she got. Honestly, they gave me anxiety from just being around them.

We sat our bedroom, staring out the window and waiting for a sign of the redheads. Merlin, the only time we went downstairs was for lunch, which we immediately came back up to sneak in some real food that we've been hiding in the floorboards.

It was almost half past five now, half hour past the time they said they'd be here, yet there was no sign of the family. Harry and I were almost biting our nails as Vernon got angrier (and more purple) with every passing minute that they were late. Vernon was in the middle of yelling at us when we heard a loud scream.

Downstairs, we could hear loud banging and scraping noise, loud enough to muffle Petunia's shrieks of terror. We ran down the stairs, realizing that the noises were coming from the fireplace. Bloody hell, they came by Floo Network. Leave it to the Weasley's to make an entrance.

The next five minute were consisted of screams of pain from inside the fireplace, followed closely by yelling. Harry was able to explain to them that it was a boarded-up fireplace.

"Has something gone wrong?" I heard a new voice yell, very likely to be Ron.

"Oh no, Ron," I heard someone drone on sarcastically, definitely a twin, "This is where we wanted to end up."

There was a few more seconds of bickering before Mr. Weasley told us to keep back. Before we could process what was happening, the wall exploded and sent the electric fire flying across the room. The look on the Muggles face was hilarious, better than any Cup.

The Weasley boys piled out of the exploded fireplace, goofy smiles on all their faces.

The twins ran directly up to me, causing Dursley, who was near me, to back away in terror. Hopefully, he was remembering the pig tail they gave him last time.

"What's your bet?" Fred demanded, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.

"Bet? I don't even know who's playing!" I said, receiving horrified looks from both of them. Over their shoulders, I could see Vernon looking absolutely mortified by what Mr. Weasley was saying to him.

"I don't even know you," George said, putting his hand up to me and looking away dramatically.

I heard Harry say that our trunks were upstairs before the twins faces turned back to their goofy smiles. "We'll get it," they offered, running up. I'm sure there's no other reason they were so excited to go up.

Mr. Weasley kept trying to make small talk with the Dursley's, making their expressions more dramatic each time. Vernon's face was a beautiful color of purple, contrasting perfectly with Petunia who had gone ghost white. Whereas, Dudley tried to shrink behind both of them, nowhere close to working.

The twins appeared again, each holding a trunk. George was holding Harry's with Hedwig's cage on top, almost completely blocking his face. While Fred was carrying mine, Chunk happily sleeping on top. They came down, both instantly getting a mischievous grin as they stared down Dudley.

I grabbed Chunk into my arms as Mr. Weasley prepared the fireplace. He called for Fred to go first. Fred picked my trunk again, before walking towards the fire. "Oh – blimey," he cried out dramatically, dropping a bag of sweets. Ah yes, that's what the mischievous look was for. He scrambled around to pick them up, a few left on the floor, before stepping in and yelling "the Burrow!", vanishing instantly.

George went next with Harry's things, then Ron, who has basically useless on this trip. This left Harry, Mr. Weasley, the Dursleys, and I silently standing around. I gave a look to Harry, which he returned – this was awkward.

"Well – bye then," Harry said, scratching the back of his head.

"See you next time," I said while forcing a smile, which probably looked more like a grimace.

They awkwardly stared back at us in silence, causing Mr. Weasley's face to contort into confusion. "Are you not going to say good-bye?" He said, almost offended, "You aren't going to see them 'til next summer!"

I shrugged at their lack of response, quite used to it. Not wanting to be there any longer, I grabbed a handful of Floo powder with my cat-free hand. I stepped in, giving the Dursley's one last disappointed shake of my head, before yelling "the Burrow!".

Thank you so much for reading! As a disclaimer for this chapter and the rest, I only own what I've created. J.K Rowling owns everything she created. I follow the book plotline when writing. Also, this is going to be very much a slow burn for Fred and Cassia.