Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything Harry Potter related. If I did, I wouldn't be a starving college kid living in a box some people have the nerve to call a dorm room. I do, however, own Meg and Kick. That is all.

It was a warm and sunny summer day. Brightly colored banners filled the field, blowing in the wind, giving way to what should have been a happy atmosphere. But no, the field was full of people....out for blood. Yes, no mercy was shown. Fans would be crushed mercilessly by other fans. Such was the atmosphere of this years Quidditch World Cup.

Harry carefully edged around some tents belonging to Bulgaria fans, following behind the Weasley twins. It was the summer before his 7th and, hopefully, final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had lived with his aunt and uncle for the beginning of the summer, til he was rescued by the Weasley family. He'd been there for about a week when Arthur Weasley had whipped some tickets out of his pocket and announced they were all going to the Quidditch World Cup....Hermione included. So, here he was, sneaking around for some unknown reason behind the Weasley twins, praying he wasn't about to get the crap beat out of him by vicious Bulgarians.

"Y'know, maybe this wasn't the brightest idea, wearing England jerseys to mess with the Bulgarians' tents." He shot, in a whisper, of course, to the nearest twin. George, maybe. Or was it Fred? Who knows.

"Show some pride, Mr. Potter." The twin grinned back.

"I have pride." Harry grumbled.

"Call me crazy, but I like being alive."

He watched as the twins planted some dungbombs, then followed them as they sprinted out of the Bulgaria area. Why hadn't he gone with Ron and Hermione to find Ginny? It would have probably involved much less likelihood of bodily harm due to angry fans of other teams. So involved in his thoughts of being beaten up, Harry didn't notice the flash of red, white, and blue until it was too late. Both people went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Harry opened his eyes to find reddish brown hair laying across his face. The other person groaned, and he heard footbeats approaching.

"Did someone get the license plate of the truck that hit me?" The owner of the reddish brown hair moaned.

"Y'know, you could try watching where you're running." The owner of the previously approaching footbeats offered.

"Screw you Kick." The person entangled with Harry shot back.

The two each rolled to an opposite side on the ground, and lay there staring at each other. It was a girl, wearing a jersey emblazoned with USA. She was indeed the owner of the reddish brown hair, which fell to the middle of her back in loose curls. Twinkling blue eyes studied Harry as he looked her over. He slowly climbed to his feet, offering the girl a hand up, both barely noting the presence of a black haired girl in the background. The girl came to about his chin, with a curvy hourglass figure.

"Not bad." He offered, then clamped his hand over his mouth. Where the bloody hell had that come from?!.

"Not bad?!" The girl repeated.

"Come on now, I was giving you MUCH higher marks than 'not bad'."

Harry laughed and extended his hand again.

"Harry." The girl took it.

"Meg."

"And I'm Kick. Nice to meet ya'll, but Meg here and I need to run before the Frenchies find the present we left them behind their tents."

Harry glanced around, noting that the twins had disappeared, and that there was indeed a large cloud of smoke coming from the area of France's tents.

"May I run with you? I'm afraid I was an accomplice to the disaster currently taking place in the Bulgarian tents."

Meg grinned. "I knew I liked you."

Kick rolled her eyes. "Today, people!"

The three began to jog to safety.

AN: ........How d'ya like it? It's been forever since I've written a fanfic, so I need all the input I can get!! Comments and Criticisms are welcome, flame at your own risk.

Now, press the pretty little button in the corner that says Review. C'mon. You know you wanna.