The Cursebreaker and the Goblet of Fire


Hello, my fellow Potterheads!

As you have requested another story, I have of course come bearing the gifts of (you guessed it) another story! This story takes place in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, all from the P.O.V of everybody's favourite Hogwarts Mystery main character, and a year after one of my one-shots 'A Very Weasley Christmas'. Here's the first snippet! I hope you enjoy it! - S.G.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Back to the Burrow

Charlie sighed, trudging up the drive towards the Burrow, unable to help but recall the last time they'd come up here together last Christmas.

Coming home was great, but he had been hoping to bring a certain young Cursebreaker with him.

Charlie nervously played with her fingers as they walked down Ottery Street and up the drive towards the Burrow hand-in-hand.

Her eyes shone as she took it all in; the chickens pecking in the yard by the vegetable patch; over the garden of blossoms and pumpkins the size of mini cars towards the house of faded teal all held up by magic.

"I know it's nothing much," he said quickly, following her gaze as the gate swung in automatically.

"I think it's great," she replied happily, the sun catching her long brown hair so that it shimmered reddish auburn in the evening light, and Charlie averted his gaze back down to his boots as a wonderful wave of warmth washed over him.

He smiled slightly at the memory and shook his head. Her life had always been busy, and now, being the new Head-Cursebreaker he supposed that she had even more responsibilities to fulfil: Breaking curses, uncovering secrets – the work was never over for a talented Cursebreaker such as herself, and there was, he reminded himself, always next year to look forward to …

"Where's your girlfriend?" Bill chimed, ruffling his younger brother's hair as he slung his other arm over his shoulder.

Charlie flushed, "How did you … she's … she's in Australia," he replied finally, shrugging his brother off as he kicked another pebble into the frog pond.

"But I thought you said she'd be here for the Quidditch World Cup …" Bill frowned.

Charlie sighed as he sat down on one of the nearest rocks, "She's in the middle of some excavation work with some indigenous elders."

"Oh, at Uluru?" Bill blinked, "I heard about that. Did you know that she's the first witch to have ever been able to communicate with the indigenous elder wizards? Apparently their tribe refuse to speak to the other Australian folk at the Ministry but they let her in with open arms …"

"Yeah, impressive stuff," Charlie grumbled, as he watched the tadpoles swim around his feet with a dejected expression on his face.

"Look, mate, I know it's lousy …"

"It's not like I'm not proud of her, because I am: she's bloody amazing and brilliant at what she does but sometimes I wish that …" he shook his head, "I don't know …"

"It's not the same without her is it?"

"To put it mildly, yeah."

Bill crouched down beside him; "Well I have an idea that might cheer you up a bit …"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"

"Table battles?"

Charlie grinned, "Oh you are so on."


"Welcome back!" Rowan yelled, her voice ringing through the Ministry atrium as she enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Ah, Rowan … can't … breathe …"

"Oops, sorry." The witch replied, eventually loosening her grip if only to get a better look at me. "I was so excited when I got your letter!"

"I can see that," I smiled as I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder. "I'm surprised that you haven't told everybody …"

"Oi, give me some credit," she pouted, "I do know how to keep a secret …"

"Says the one who practically announced to the world that I snogged Charlie last year," I retorted.

Rowan paused, "I … that was different!" she said, "And besides, I didn't tell everybody …"

I rolled my eyes, "You didn't have to come all the way to pick me up," I said, changing the subject.

"Which is exactly why I had to come and pick you up," reasoned Rowan cheerfully as she took my owl cage in one hand, while linking her other arm with mine. "What sort of best friend would I be if I didn't come to pick you up after not seeing you for eons?"
"It's been two months, Rowan, not aeons." I corrected her.

"Oh; same thing," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "So … how was Australia?"

"Hot," I said.

She raised an eyebrow, "But isn't it supposed to be winter over there?" she asked.

I shrugged, "Yeah, well their winter is like our summer. Speaking of which, how's Brina been? I hope she hasn't been giving you too much trouble …"

"Oh, she's been fine," replied the witch as we walked out of the atrium. "She's an angel, your cat is – she's kept the house mice-free and everything … Heck, she makes Fuzzclaw look lazy in comparison."

Fuzzclaw was Rowan's old cat that did nothing but sleep and scratch up old furniture.

"Anyway," she continued, "You'll never believe the sort of tent that I managed to buy …"

Soooo ... what did you think? I hope you liked it!