CHAPTER I…
"Slimy gits," Ron muttered, as he, Harry and Hermione turned to face the pitch again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman had charged into the box. "Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister – ready to go?" "Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably. Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands: "Ladies and gentlemen … welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – a Risk with Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO, JAPAN: ZERO. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.
"I wonder what they've brought?" said Mr. Weasley, leaning forwards in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"
"What are Veel–?"
But a hundred Veela were now gliding out on to the pitch, and Harry's question was answered for him.
Veela were women… the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen… except that they weren't – they couldn't be – human. This puzzled Harry fora moment, while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-brightlike that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind … but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human – in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all. The Veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the Veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen …
And as the Veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry's dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea … but would it be good enough? "Harry, what are you doing?" said Hermione's voice from a long way off.
The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he was about to dive from a springboard. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absent-mindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leant over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands. "You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."
"Huh?" said Ron, staring open-mouthed at the Veela, who had now lined up along one side of the pitch. Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat. "Honestly!" she said. "And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air … for the Irish National Team Mascots!" Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet had come zooming into the stadium.
It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd 'oooohed' and 'aaaaahed', as though at a firework display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it – "Excellent!" yelled Ron, as the shamrock soared over their heads, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realised that it was actually composed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.
"Leprechauns!" said Mr Weasley, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold. "There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand. "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!" The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. "Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand –Krum!" "That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars; Harry quickly focused his own. Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen. "And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting–Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand –Lynch!" Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch; Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars, and slowed the players down enough to read the word 'Firebolt' on each of their brooms, and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.
"And last but not the least! Let me introduce the Japanese National Team Mascots!" as soon as he said that, the Quidditch grounds had been replaced by a big body of water, with some flat rocks protruding on the surface.
'What-'
His thoughts were cut off when something burst right out of the water so high, it was probably 30 feet from the ground. Harry's eyes narrowed to catch a good view at the things, and that was when he quickly realized those weren't 'somethings', but rather, 'someone.'
Beside him, the others' jaws have completely went slack.
"Blimey! Mermaids! Humanoid mermaids! In England! Bloody hell!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as several more upper halves of women appeared from the surface of the water.
He took a good look at the mermaids with his Omniculars and marvelled at their beauty. Humanoid mermaids were very beautiful. They had flowing long snow white hair that covered their surely bare breasts, but had webbed hands, and piercing green eyes in almost the same shades. Harry absentmindedly felt his eye. Just like his.
Their ears were pointed and webbed too, like a fin. On their heads were head ornaments made of pearls. Unlike the Veelas who had skin which shone like the moonlight, they were rather… normal looking, and their skin tone were mostly pale flesh.
"Humanoid mermaids?" Harry found himself asking Hermione, who was drooling lightly at the sight of the said creatures.
[1]"A, kore made to onajiyōni gōman'na mama de, Seijuuro."
[2]"Anata wa kare o sukini shite wa ikemasen, Sakura-chan, 'ttebayo!"
A chuckle. [3]"Akashi-kun wa Yahiko no osananajimidesu. Watashi wa sore no iimasen."
[4]"Boku wa sukunakutomo kare ga Sunitchi o kyatchi shinagara kare no hoki kara ochiru koto o nozonde iru."
[5]"Naruto! Son'na imiai wa yamete! Soshite, kare no okāsan Kushina-san no itokode wanaidesu ka? Sore wa anata no itoko ni narimasu!"
Ahh, foreigners. Japanese, if he heard some of the words used.
Harry turned his head to see a group of four, but he couldn't take his eyes off the outrageous hair colour the girl had: Pink. But the lightest shade of pink he had ever seen. And it was long. Ankle-length and with a braid quite similar to the humanoid mermaids.
His attention was pulled away when he heard the entrancing lulls coming from the stadium. He felt his entire body stiffen as the lulls became even more and more evident in his ears. He knew mermaids could enchant people with the power of their voices – but he didn't think it was this strong. Bloody hell.
"I'm going to be the richest man in the world!" he heard Ron say distantly. His body was itching to do something… impressive. Like how it was with the Veela from earlier. But somehow, it was stronger.
Would surviving a 30 feet high cannon ball suffice?
Okay, that was stupid. But oddly enough, his body badly wants to try it out.
He snapped out of his daze as the lulling stopped. He looked around, and saw the others who were still shaking out of their stupor. Some were already hanging off the ledge. Upon by chance, he spotted the foreigners, which made him crease his forehead. They looked as if nothing happened to them.
Harry scratched his head before checking up on Ron.
'Hmm. Weird.'
::
"And now! I present to you… the Japanese National Quidditch Team! I give you – Akashi!" Harry swore he almost leapt out of the box when something black… and big… and menacing appeared right beside a smaller flash of red riding in a broom – which, he had never seen before – and then he swore. Loudly.
Standing – no – flying in front of them was a too-good-to-be-real dragon behind a red haired boy clad in light blue and white protective gears, flawlessly riding on his broom, he looked as if he was sitting on a real comfy recliner chair. "Aomine!" another broom zoomed in the stadium, and there rode a tall, tanned male with dark blue hair. 'Bloody hell! They don't look the least like Japanese!' the wizard thought, gulping at Aomine's stature and height. Once he was beside the redhead, he slid off his broom and swung on the broom, landing on its handle again.
"Murasakibara!" a flash of purple zoomed into the air, and if Aomine was huge, this guy… was ginormous. He could probably be two metres tall, but he wasn't so sure as he was far away. The way his eyes were half-lidded practically screamed that the entire match would be boring. Which would be pretty insulting. "Midorima!" now there was a green one. What was this? A group made of freakin' rainbow?
Midorima had a pair of goggles resting before his eyes. Unlike the others, he had not used any flashy entrances and opted to appear normally. Huh, it's either he doesn't want to show off or his broom isn't that fast.
"Kise!" this time, it was a blonde that flew swiftly to the arena. Once he was beside Midorima, he did a mock salute and winked. And by Merlin's name… He. Was. So. Handsome. So handsome it made him want to break something. "Kagami!" there was now a dark red-haired boy. Harry gasped before looking back to his Omniculars again. And were those split eyebrows?
"Aaaaaaaaannnnnnddddd – Kuroko!"
A flash of blue streaked before him. He looked over beside Kagami but found no one. Okay? Where the hell was their Seeker?
"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open – four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged, Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.
"Who are they? They look so young!" Harry asked Ron who was cheering loudly.
Ron looked like he had no intention of answering him. Luckily, Fred and George did.
"No one really knows about them-"
"-they just started this year."
Ron stopped cheering and looked at Harry. "But everyone who saw them play said they were monsters!" he stopped to look at the said team. Harry almost tripped on his own foot when he saw what they were doing.
Nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just stayed there! In a goddamn triangle with the redhead in the middle.
"What… are they doing?" Hermione looked at the team with the same stupefied face. "They're not going to win if they're just going to stand there in some cool pose with the same smirks on their faces!"
Fred and George placed their arms over Hermione's shoulders. "Relax, Hermione dear."
"They aren't called-"
"-'monsters' for nothing."
"There was one game which said that they purposely let the other team get past their defences twice! TWICE! Just so that the score would have the numbers 2 and 0! It was a 220 to 20 – a two hundred point difference."
"And it only lasted for a good 10 minutes."
By now, they had started moving. 'About time,' Harry sighed.
To his surprise, the shortie redhead played Keeper, and not the purple. The difference in their sizes were more than noticeable, and with the purple's size, if he stretch far enough, he could be able to cover the three goalposts. The purple played Beater, and so did the dark red-haired one. Judging with the bats they were holding.
So the other three left were obviously Chasers; the green-haired, the blonde and the tanned one. And that bluenette was a Seeker.
Speaking of which, where was he? Did that guy cast an Invisibility Spell over himself? Or maybe cloaked himself with Invisibility Cloak? Nah, those things were forbidden. Harry furiously looked into his Omnicular, trying to find the blue headed boy.
What was up with this team?
::
Harry. Was. Mortified.
The game was won by the team from Japan and the difference in their scores were no joke. 400 – 160 – 170, in favour of the Japanese.
Harry ate the words he thought about that redhead shortie after seeing him play. Because by Merlin, it was almost like he knew everything that was happening inside the game. The green haired haven't missed a single point and was always throwing into the center hoop. The tanned male could shoot in the most ridiculous position – one of them with him hanging on his broom on one hand – and the blonde could perfectly execute feints and shots. Even Mr. Weasley couldn't tell he was feinting. And the Beaters, he didn't even know where to start with the strength they displayed.
Their Seeker was a mystery. It was just that time when the redhead had done some kind of signal when 4 seconds after that, the Snitch was caught. By the Japanese. It was like he was chilling in the stadium and only caught the Snitch when the redhead wanted to.
And so, everyone lost to their own bets.
"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister for Magic.
"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"
"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian Minister, shrugging. And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!' roared Bagman. Harry's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting towards the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying into the box a vast golden cup, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.
"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria and Ireland!" Bagman shouted. And up the stairs into the box came the fourteen defeated Bulgarian and Irish players. The crowd below were applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omnicular lenses flashing and winking in their direction. One by one, the Bulgarians, Irish and Japanese filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own Minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused.
The Japanese team were looking more than bored as the redhead and tanned male lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered their approval. Harry's hands were numb with clapping.
Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "Quietus". "They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer … ah yes … yes, I owe you … how much?" For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats, and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.
Translations for the Japanese conversation:
[1]"A, kore made to onajiyōni gōman'na mama de, Seijuuro."
Oh, still as arrogant as ever, that Seijuuro."
[2]"Anata wa kare o sukini shite wa ikemasen, Sakura-chan, 'ttebayo!"
You shouldn't have done him that favour, Sakura-chan, 'ttebayo!"
[3]"Akashi-kun wa Yahiko no osananajimidesu. Watashi wa sore no iimasen."
Akashi-kun is Yahiko's childhood friend, though. I have no say to it."
[4]"Boku wa sukunakutomo kare ga Sunitchi o kyatchi shinagara kare no hoki kara ochiru koto o nozonde iru."
I at least am hoping he falls off his broom while catching the Snitch."
[5]"Naruto! Son'na imiai wa yamete! Soshite, kare no okāsan Kushina-san no itokode wanaidesu ka? Sore wa anata no itoko ni narimasu!"
Naruto! Stop being such a meanie! And besides, isn't his mom Kushina-san's cousin? That makes you cousins too!"
And so, these are the translations Google Translate had provided me. So if there's anyone out there who knows how to speak Japanese, please feel free to leave corrections!
If any of you are wondering, Sakura's hair is the lightest shade of pink. I changed it because she is a part humanoid mermaid, who has snow white hair.
~Author fairylover2004
