Charlie laughed at the face Fred was making at her. "I'm sorry if you're upset that I didn't want to try your tongue-tying toffees, but I have absolutely no desire for my tongue to grow to ten feet long."

Harry gave her a small grin from across the tent and she smiled back at him. Before Fred or George could say anything, she continued. "Besides, it's not my fault your mum took them away. You should've known better than pranking Muggles with magic."

"He was the one that picked it up and ate it!" Fred said in dismay, a smirk on his face. "I didn't force him to do anything!"

"But you knew he was on a diet," Hermione cut in, closing her book momentarily. "You dropped it on purpose knowing he couldn't resist!"

Charlie stood from the couch and began to head towards the room she shared with Hermione and Ginny. "I'm going to get ready for the match. Care to join, Hermione?"

"Sure."

They were at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry and her had been invited by the Weasleys a week before, inviting them to the match, and the two Quidditch-loving-Dursley-haters agreed wholeheartedly.

Charlie had been living with the Dursleys as long as she could remember. She was almost two years old when she and Harry had been placed on the Muggle's doorstep.

They'd been left with a note saying that their parents had been killed and they needed looking after.

It was in Charlie's third year that she learned she was not, in fact, related to Harry at all. Not really. She was the daughter of Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, and had been with Harry the night his parents were killed. Her father had gone seeking revenge on Peter Pettigrew, the man that had truthfully betrayed Harry's parents, and left her with Hagrid.

Not knowing what to do after Sirius' arrest, Hagrid placed Charlie in the care of the Dursleys as well.

She could remember the day she found out. She and Harry had sneaked into Hogsmeade for a bit of fun since their Uncle Dursley hadn't signed their permission forms, and overheard McGonagall, Fudge, and Rosmerta talking about the Azkaban escapee.

They followed them inside and discovered part of the truth: Harry and Charlie were not siblings.

No one knew who her mother was; most suspected it was one of Sirius' flings that had the child and dropped her off before leaving.

Sirius said he loved her mother and her, but wasn't in a place to take her in.

"Charlotte," Hermione spoke, her voice little louder than normal. Charlie quickly snapped herself out of it.

"Hmm…? Sorry?" She replied, walking over to the vanity mirror in the bathroom.

Hermione sighed, "I was only wondering who you're cheering for."

Charlie thought for a moment. "Can I cheer for one team, but also cheer for one person on the other team?"

Hermione sighed. "Don't tell me you're cheering for Ireland because you want to impress Cedric."

Charlie blushed. "That's only a crush! Not going to happen… No, I know Ireland has the better team, but I want Krum to do well."

"Viktor Krum? The seeker that Ron's obsessed with?"

Charlie nodded. "He's very surly looking, but he's one of the youngest professional players and easily the best seeker in today's Quidditch world."

"So you'll be cheering for Ireland with everyone else?" Hermione asked, a small smile on her face.

"You know me, 'Mione," she grinned, putting on dark red lipstick. "Jumping on the bandwagon just isn't my style."

...

"Why are you dressed like that?" Ron asked, gaping when Charlie walked out of the tent to where the others were waiting.

"Honestly, Ronald. I thought you could use your eyes." Hermione piped up from behind her. "Obviously she's cheering for Bulgaria."

Ron rolled his eyes before turning back to Charlie. "But why?"

"Someone's got to openly cheer for the other team. There are about eight of us here, and seven of you are cheering in predominantly orange, green, and white. Someone has to pick the underdog."

Fred grinned and slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked towards the stadium. "And this change of wardrobe has absolutely nothing to do with your crush on Viktor Krum?"

"I do not have a crush on him any more than you have a crush on Hermione." Charlie grinned.

George smirked back at her. "So not impossible, but unlikely."

Hermione tried to conceal her laughter at the twins' antics before walking quicker to catch up with Harry and Ron.

Charlie slipped out of Fred's grasp when they neared the Top Box. Cedric was already sitting down next to his father near where the Weasley group were about to sit.

She sat down next to Harry with Cedric on her right. Next to Harry was Ron, then Hermione, Ginny, the twins, and finally Mr. Weasley. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Fudge introducing the Bulgarian Minister for Magic to Lucius Malfoy.

She growled and stood from her seat, calmly walking towards the trio. "Hello, Minister."

"Oh, hello Miss Black! Lovely to see you here. I take it you're with Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes sir. I'm very excited for the match. In fact, I was just telling Harry —"

"Miss Black? I thought you were Mr. Potter's sister."

"No sir." Charlie tried to keep her tone even. "I'm Sirius Black's daughter."

"How interesting," he said, and walked slowly back to his seat.

"Speaking of your father… Have you or Mr. Potter heard from him at all?" Fudge asked.

"No sir," Charlie responded. "But I'll let you know if he does."

"Brilliant. Oh, how rude of me!" Fudge said suddenly. "Charlotte, this is Mr. Obalonsk… Oblanks… Oh bother. This is the Bulgarian Minister for Magic."

"Radvam se da vi vidya, gospodin Olbansk. (It's good to meet you, Mister Oblansk.)" She shook his hand and he looked startled. "Govorish li angliĭski? (Do you speak English?)"

"Da. (Yes.)" He nodded, a smile gracing his features. "I vie govorite bŭlgarski! Koga nauchikhte ezika? (You know Bulgarian! When did you learn the language?)"

"Minaloto lyato za moya rozhden den, chicho mi mi dade angliĭski na bŭlgarski rechnik. Predpolozhikh, che mozhe da se vŭzpolzvam ot tova. (Last summer for my birthday, my uncle got me an English to Bulgarian dictionary. I figured I may as well get some use out of it.)" Charlie explained.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Za da bŭdete samouk, vashiyat aktsent ne e uzhasen. (For being self-taught, your accent is not terrible.)"

"Blagodarya vi, ministŭr. (Thank you, Minister.)" Charlie bowed her head a little, her wavy dark brown hair blocking her light blush from view. To be complimented on something she worked hard at was unbelievably satisfying. She turned to look at Fudge and saw him looking at her in shock."I believe the game will be starting soon so I must be going. Excuse me."

When she got back to her seat, Harry was grinning at her. "I'll never make fun of your studying skills again. You learned all of that in one summer?"

"Summer, and the beginning of last year whenever she had free time." Hermione gave her an approving nod, likely remembering the times she would quiz Charlie in their dorm for Bulgarian phrases. "What were you two discussing?"

Before she could respond, however, Ludo Bagman's voice rang out across the stadium. She settled in her seat as the match started.

"Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

...

"Did you see that dive?" Ron asked, tugging on Charlie's sleeve. "It was bloody amazing!"

"Did you see Quigley's Bludger hit him in the face?" Fred asked, mimicking Ron's enthusiasm. "Wicked!"

"Oh, shove off." Ron turned back to her. "But the fact that he still caught the Snitch with a bloody nose!"

Charlie sighed, slightly annoyed. Ron was obsessed with Krum, that much was obvious, and Charlie was a fan herself, but the redhead honestly had no idea when to shut up.

"Why do you think he caught it so early? He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead!" He continued.

"He knew they were never going to catch up! The Irish Chasers were too good… He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all…" Harry supplied.

"He was very brave, wasn't he? He looks a terrible mess…" Hermione trailed off.

Charlie had to agree. Borrowing Harry's Omnioculars (she hadn't wanted her own), she looked down at the field towards Krum. His nose was crooked and there were dark bruises under his eyes.

"He's broken his nose," Charlie stated, handing the device back to Harry.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," a downcast voice said behind her. She turned to see Oblansk shaking his head sadly.

"You can speak English!" Fudge exclaimed angrily. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," he said, shrugging. He turned to Charlie, "Ven ze team gets up here, Miss Black… Vould you like to meet zem?"

Charlie shot him a small smile. "Sure. That sounds lovely."

Ron pouts behind her and she turns back around. "If you've got parchment and a quill I can get his signature for you."

Ron scrambles around quickly for a piece of parchment and finds one in Hermione's bag. Hermione pulls out a marker. "It's not a quill, but it'll work."

"Thanks, 'Mione," Ron breathed, suddenly excited.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

Ludo Bagman called out the name of each Bulgarian player as they shook hands with Fudge, and then their own minister. Krum, who was last in line, was still holding the Snitch. Oblansk quickly pointed to Charlie who just smiled and waved politely, and Krum's grim expression softened fractionally. Charlie got up from her seat and walked towards the Bulgarian pair.

"Miss Black ken speak Bulgarian, Viktor," Oblansk explained with a smile.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked before Viktor could say anything.

He looked mildly startled, "Vat?"

"Your nose is broken," she explained, gently rubbing her thumb over the bruise that formed under his left eye. "That's why you have raccoon bruises."

"'Raccoon bruises'?" He repeated slowly.

She made a gesture with her hands to her own face, pointing out where they were. "Raccoons have a dark ring around their eyes and your broken nose caused bruises that look similar so I call them raccoon bruises."

"Zat is clever," he smiled slightly. "I am Viktor."

"Charlotte Black," she shook his hand. "But you can call me Charlie."

"Shar-lee," he said, testing it out.

"Close enough," she held back a giggle. "I know you likely have to leave soon, but my friend Ronald is a huge fan of yours and was wondering if he could get an autograph."

"I don't really giff out signed zings, but I could take a picture?" He offered.

Charlie grinned. "That would be lovely."

Motioning over the photographer, Charlie convinced his to take Ron and Viktor's photo for five galleons. It was a very steep price for a picture, but she knew Ron would like it.

She walked up to the two after the photographer handed her the photo and gave Viktor a small smile. "It was nice meeting you, Viktor."

"It vas nice meeting you, too, Shar-lee." He bent down and gave her a light kiss on the knuckles. "See you soon."

And with that he was gone.

...

"'See you soon'?" Hermione asked when they got back to the tent. "What do you think he meant by that?"

"No idea, 'Mione." Charlie replied. "Do you hear that?"

"What, Fred and George's singing?" She asked, smirking. "They're terrible, aren't they?"

"Well yes, but I meant the loud noises coming from outside." Charlie left the room, Hermione following quickly behind her.

The first thing they heard was Arthur saying, "that's not the Irish."

...

Charlotte, Hermione, Ron, and Harry reached the doors leading from the Great Hall at the same time as the Durmstrang Headmaster, Karkaroff and his students. Charlie quietly held the door open to let them through.

"Thanks," Karkaroff said uninterestedly, glancing at the group.

He stopped in his tracks.

He stared, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Charlie looked from him to the students behind him and immediately spotter Viktor. She shot him a smile. "So this is what you meant by 'See you soon', Viktor?"

He nodded and returned her smile with a grin of his own. "Yes, Shar-lee. I knew you vent to Hogvarts and zat I vould see you soon."

"Good to see your nose is better, too." Charlie ran her thumb over where his bruise had been and her smile brightened when he shivered. "Shte se vidim li utre? (Will I see you tomorrow?)"

He lifted an eyebrow and many of the guys behind him involuntarily took a step back. "Razbira se. (Of course.)"

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," a gruff voice spoke from behind them.

Karkaroff snapped out of his trance. "You!" There was a mixture of fear and disbelief in his eyes.

"Me," Moody repeated. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter and his friends, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

Without another word, Karkaroff grabbed Viktor by the shoulder and led the Durmstrang students out.

Ron turned to look at Charlie. "You're on a first name basis with Krum?"

"Merlin help us," Hermione muttered, before walking back towards the Common Room, Charlie in tow.