Mrs. Weasley was not making idle threats about the time they needed to be awake for the next morning. They were awoken at no later than four in the morning, much to John's ire.

"The match isn't even until five in the evening." he grumbled.

"Dad says we've got a pretty long walk ahead." said Ron, equally disgruntled.

Ron and Mr. Weasley weren't wrong about the walk. It was five in the morning by the time they had left, and Mr. Weasley led the way for what seemed like at least half an hour before anything of note happened. They came accross a wizard and his son, who was a familiar face. It was Cedric Diggory, and the man next to him was presumably his father.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look which had rather obvious connotations when they saw Cedric again. Ron was none too pleased about that.

"Amos! Good to see you!" said Mr. Weasley.

"Arthur! It's about time!" said Mr. Diggory, shaking Mr. Weasley's hand.

"And who are these fine young ladies and gentlemen?" he added as Cedric then shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

"These are my sons, Ron, Fred and George and my daughter Ginny." said Mr. Weasley, motioning towards his children.

"And I'm John Potter. That's... well... you know." said John. Hermione was about to introduce herself, but as expected, Mr. Diggory did what was now something of a formality for Harry - fawning over him.

Though it could never be said that Diggory senior was purely in awe of Harry - he boasted about how Cedric beat Harry almost a year back in Quidditch, in spite of Cedric's protests regarding Harry falling off his broom.

"Always the modest one my Cedric! One player falls off his broom and his opponent doesn't! No genius is needed to find out which is the better flyer!" Said Mr. Diggory.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? Though things do get a bit... skewed when dementors show up though." Delilah said, dryly.

Hermione gave Delilah an incredulous look, but Ron snorted and held back his laughter.

"Demen- Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know." said Mr. Diggory.

"It's fine. We won the cup anyway." said John, with a more subtle form of his regular smugness.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had long since given up on dealing with John's ego.

"So where are we heading?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We're heading to a portkey. It'll take us to the venue." said Mr. Diggory.

"What's a portkey?" Harry whispered to Mr. Weasley once they'd got back to moving along on their journey.

"Well it could be anything. They are objects that are enchanted to transport the users from one given destination to another at a given time. We have to use innocuous objects so muggles don't take them. The one we're heading to is an old boot." Mr. Weasley explained.

Harry nodded.

"And what about the venue? I can't imagine muggles won't notice thousands of wizards at Twickenham stadium or something." said John.

"Twickenham?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"The home of the England rugby team." Harry explained.

"Ah, I see. Well we aren't going to a built up area. Wizards use temporary stadiums for the bigger events, you see. It'll have enchantments similar to the ones used by Hogwarts so that muggles don't stumble across it." said Mr. Weasley.

"Interesting... and I'm guessing we'll be seeing people from all over the world then?" John asked.

"Yes, though I daresay most will be from Europe, given that it's an Ireland-Bulgaria game." said Mr. Weasley.

"Shame. I don't know why, but I've always wanted to meet Americans." said John.

"You may still see some." said Mr. Weasley.

Within another five minutes, they had arrived at the aforementioned portkey, and it was, as Mr. Weasley said, an old boot. A very manky old boot. Delilah immediately pulled a disgusted face upon seeing it.

"It's cleaner than it looks. Just a few glamour charms." said Cedric, laughing.

"If you say so." Delilah said warily.

The wizards and witches all placed their hands on the boot, and before they knew it, the world around them began to spin out of control, and they realized that they had left the ground.

They were flying through the air with the wind howling around them, and without warning, landed on the ground a mere thirty seconds later with a loud thud, on top of and entangled amongst each other in a heap.

"Stoatshead hill, seven past five arriving on schedule." said a voice.

John shoved Harry off himself and onto his feet in one swift motion.

"How the hell did you get that strong?" Harry grumbled.

"Diet, and Sirius' exercise routine." John said simply, smirking as he did so.

John decided to try and keep up with Sirius' very rigorous exercise routine, which, as a hit-wizard for the magical law enforcement department, was not short of muscle building exercise. John was always naturally strong, but he was now stronger than a lot of grown men, and thankfully, given that Harry was now eating properly and consistently, he had put on some muscle. He wasn't as skinny as he used to be, and was now not much shorter than John either. John now stood at roughly five foot ten, and Harry was about five foot eight. Of course neither of them were as tall as Ron, who stood at six feet already.

His smirk turned into laughter upon realizing that Hermione had landed on top of Ron, in what could easily have been a rather... compromising position. In short, her chest landed on Ron's face. His very red face. Not that Hermione's face was any less red.

John pulled the two of them off the floor, with the amused look on his face refusing to leave.

Ron gave John a murderous look, and John immediately knew that Ron would have preferred it if John didn't make it so obvious. John shrugged.

Cedric and his father said their goodbyes and went off to find their tents.

Mr. Weasley (with help from Hermione) paid for their tents, and walked them all over to them. The two tents looked far too small for two people each, let alone the twelve people that were expected to be in the two of them.

But when Harry walked inside the men's tent, he immediately knew how this would work. The tents were bigger on the inside. Not just bigger on the inside though... they resembled houses.

"What the..." he said.

"This is some Dr. Who shit right here." said John, bluntly.

"What's Dr. Who?" Ron asked.

"A muggle TV show."said Harry.

"What's a muggle TV show got to do with this tent?" Ron asked.

"The Doctor, the main character that is, has a... structure that's bigger on the inside." said John, trying to simplify the concept of a space and time machine to avoid a lengthy explanation of the phenomenon that was Dr. Who.

"Fair enough. Want to take a look at the girls' tent?" Ron asked.

"Sure." said Harry.

The girls' tent was largely the same as the men's one, only smaller due to the smaller number of people in it.

"So the match is meant to start at seven, we have ages." said Ginny.

"That's why I brought these." said Delilah.

In her larger bag, Delilah had brought the boxing gloves and sparring pads that Sirius had bought. He had been teaching them a bit of hand-to hand combat over the summer. Harry, John and Delilah were by no means hand-to-hand combat experts, but they, especially John had learnt fast.

"You want to spar? How did you even know we'd be able to? I mean, I'm up for it, but we're going to a world cup for God's sake." Harry said, in surprise.

"Charlie was telling me about these tents." Delilah said simply.

"Hold on... what are those even for?" Ron asked.

"Protection. Remember how I told you that Sirius is teaching us how to fight? He got us these for practice." said Harry.

"And I really want to be able to hold my own against someone bigger than me. Sirius said it's important given that strange stuff has started to happen." said Delilah.

"And I imagine self-defense is important for anyone, period." said Hermione.

"Yep. So, you want to go now?" John asked.

"If you don't mind?" Delilah said, putting on her gloves and padded helmet.

"You two should watch. I can teach you as well if you like." said John.

"Yeah, sounds good." said Ron.

"Why am I not surprised that John's the one teaching this?" Hermione asked.

John caught something flash across Ron's face as Hermione said this.

"Well... you look at the size of the git and you can imagine that he picks this stuff up easily." said Harry.

John put on his pads, and he and Delilah began. Hermione and Ginny watched intently, since they found it prudent for girls to be able to fend off attackers given the size disadvantage most girls had.

They wasn't encouraged by what they saw though. John was not only almost twice the weight of Delilah, but he was faster too. It was painfully obvious he was holding back.

John parried most of Delilah's strikes, and the ones which Delilah actually landed didn't even affect him.

"Remember what Sirius said about bigger guys?" John said as he caught Delilah's arm.

"Legs." Harry hinted.

Delilah nodded and began to target John's legs.

"John's starting to look almost... scary." Hermione muttered to Ron. She was visibly impressed though.

Ron refrained from grimacing.

"Yeah... hope I can pick up on this as fast as him.

Soon enough, and predictably so, Delilah was tired out and Harry took his place.

Harry fared much better than Delilah did, and was able to keep up with John when it came to speed. In fact, Harry was noticeably faster. The problem was the almost hilarious strength difference. Any time John got close enough to Harry, he pinned him and they had to restart.

"I reckon Ron'll be better than this sorry lot." said John, smirking as he threw Harry to the floor yet again.

"Oi!" Harry barked.

"Well... he isn't totally wrong." Delilah said sheepishly.

"Any of you want to have a go? It doesn't have to be against me, and I'll walk you through a bunch of stuff first." said John, asking Hermione, Ginny and Ron.

Ginny was about to volunteer, before Mr. Weasley arrived.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we need some water. The map the muggle gave us marks a tap in the field, do you mind? Oh, and Ginny, come help us out with firewood" Mr. Weasley said.

"Alright. We'll teach you guys later." said Harry.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'd prefer if John took the lead on that." said Hermione, laughing.

John made a point to gauge Ron's reaction, and saw that same look appear on his face momentarily as Hermione said this. He made a mental note to talk to him about that later on.

The venue was absolutely packed with all sorts of different witches and wizards from around the world. They came across a group of witches around their age, but all speaking french.

"Beauxbatons I imagine." Hermione remarked, referring to a school in France.

Before Delilah could tease John about him not oggling them, the very reason for his lack of oggling showed her face.

"John! Over here!" Katie Bell was waving towards them from outside her tent.

A grin spread over John's face, and he went over to greet his girlfriend.

"I got your last letter about you coming here, but I didn't expect to find you!" said Katie, leaping into John's arms.

"Neither did I. No complaints of course." John said, wryly.

"Hi everyone." said Katie once she'd let go of John.

Everyone said hello to Katie, before they continued towards the tap on the map, though John stayed behind to hang out with Katie.

"I'll be back at the girls' tent later. Don't wait for me!" he said. Katie blushed when John said 'don't wait for me' but she looked very pleased all the same.


John duly came back to the tent roughly ten minutes after the others had returned, with a smirk on his face, and some lipstick on his collarbone. They all spent the rest of the day talking about the match to come, and making the occasional purchase, such as a pair of omnioculars for Harry or John buying a hat that would sing 'Ireland's call' when he tapped it with his wand.

Eventually it was time to head to their seats, and Mr. Weasley had managed to get seats in the top box alongside the minister himself. Harry stared in awe at the enormous stadium.

"It seats a hundred thousand at capacity, and funnily enough, we are at capacity. A five-hundred strong task force from the ministry was working on this for a year, with muggle protection charms and all." Mr. Weasley explained.

It truly was impressive - bigger than Wembley or Twickenham by far, especially taking into account how large Quidditch pitches already were.

After meeting Winky, a house elf whom Harry initially mistook for Dobby, they sat with Fudge, the Bulgarian minister, Ludo Bagman, and some guests who hadn't yet shown up. When the first of the currently absent guests did though, Delilah let out an audible groan.

"Good lord Arthur, what did you have to sell to get these seats?"

It was Lucius Malfoy, alongside Draco Malfoy and a woman who was presumably Mrs. Malfoy.

She was tall, slim and graceful looking. Harry would have found her attractive if she didn't have a permanent facial expression that suggested that someone was holding a pile of dung under her nose.

The minister busied himself introducing the Bulgarian minister to Malfoy senior and his wife, whilst Draco sat down beside Ron.

"Can't imagine your house would have fetched the money to get these seats Weasley. Out with it, what did your dad sell? Your mum?" Malfoy asked with a lowered voice so that the adults couldn't hear him, including the older Weasley siblings and Fred and George.

"Had a bit of experience with mothers selling themselves Malfoy? Or did your mum do it of her own accord?" Ron retorted. Harry let out a bark of laughter, and Ginny was desperately holding back her own. Hermione did not approve of the type of retort Ron was using, and Delilah looked guilty about finding it funny. Fred and George shared no such guilt.

"Can't blame her for wanting to get away from your sorry arse. And your dad's. Even if it means getting railed by strange men every other night." John added.

"How many siblings do you have again?" Malfoy shot back.

"Congratulations Malfoy, you've figured out that married couples have sex and want children on occasion." John said tiredly.

Before things got ugly, Ludo Bagman, the head of the department of magical games made the announcement which got the ceremony for the final started, and the animosity was forgotten as everyone watched the pitch.

The Bulgarian team mascots arrived, but they didn't look like any mascots that any of them had ever seen.

"Veela!" Mr. Weasley informed them.

Veela as it turned out, were just women. Exceedingly beautiful women. Inhumanly beautiful... they couldn't be human, could they? How could their skin and hair be glowing like that?

Such questions were irrelevant when the veela began to dance. Nothing else in the world mattered in that moment.

Hermione, Delilah and Ginny looked disgusted at their friends' (and Malfoy's) display of outright oggling.

"John! You have a girlfriend!" Hermione cried indignantly.

John didn't seem to hear her.

"They have... shall I say... something of a profound effect on men, and it's far more pronounced in younger men. They can't help it, it's one of the powers that veela have." Mr. Weasley explained with his forefingers in his ears. Hermione saw that the minister, Mr. Malfoy and the other older men in the box were doing the same.

"Can I snap them out of it?" Hermione asked.

"Well next time the veela dance, you should remind them to cover their ears. For now, just poke them until they stop or something." said Mr. Weasley, who was doing just that to Ron.

The Irish followed with a spectacular fireworks display and leprechauns descended onto the field, alongside showers of gold which bounced all over the stadium. It wasn't long before the floor was stripped clean of every single coin, and soon enough, the teams flew out onto the field, and it was time for the match to begin.

And what a match it was. The gameplay was at such a fast pace that Bagman didn't even bother describing the actions of the players on the field - he simply said their names.

Also, whenever Krum did something of note, Ron would absolutely fawn over him.

"Are you gay? It's totally fine if you are, you know." said John, causing Ginny to burst out laughing.

Ron wasn't listening - he was engrossed in the match.


When the match had finished (in Ireland's favour), the Bulgarian minister made a rather amusing revelation.

"Ve faught bravely." he said gloomily.

"You can speak English! You've had me miming everything all day!" Fudge replied, outraged.

John laughed loudly at this, and Fudge looked at him with narrowed eyes. He still hadn't forgotten how John made him look like a fool in Hagrid's hut one and a half years ago.

"Can we just... swap ministers?" John whispered to Harry, who smirked.

"Well Weasley, I hope you enjoyed the experience... while it lasted. Not like you'll be able to pay for anything like that again." said Malfoy.

"I did actually. Reminded me of how Gryffindor beat Slytherin last year to win the Quidditch cup." said Ron.

John and Harry let out 'ooohs' at that response - it was one of Ron's better one-liners.

No one could stop talking about the match for hours when they went back to the tents. Katie had joined them, and she too supported Ireland but agreed with everyone's assessment of Krum being by far the best and most exciting player on the pitch.

"He's more than an athlete! He's an artist!" Ron said.

"A lot of people like Krum Ron but... wow." said Harry.

"You saw him out there!" Ron replied enthusiastically.

Mr. Weasley and Charlie had gone into a play-by-play analysis of what Ireland were doing and had reached a disagreement.

"But Moran had Levski caught out!" Charlie yelled.

Hermione, in spite of thouroughly enjoying the match, was not getting caught up in the post-match commentary. Surprisingly, neither were John and Katie. Yes, they were together, but both of them were Quidditch players. For once, Harry was surprised that they had snuck off.

Eventually though, Mr. Weasley decided that it was best that they all turn in.

"Delilah, do you mind finding John?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"No problem." she replied, heading out of the tent.

"I don't evny those on duty today. Imagine telling the Irish they've got to stop celebrating..." said Mr. Weasley, chuckling to himself. The Irish were still being exceptionally loud.

Ron and Harry had the same bunk bed, with Harry on the top bunk. They continued discussing the match in whispers until Delilah and John returned. But Harry was shocked to see Delilah in tears, and John with his arm around her shoulder.

"Delilah? What happened?" Ron asked, getting out of bed, with Harry following.

"Well... remember how Machado said he wasn't going to the world cup?" John said.

"Yeah..." said Harry.

"He actually did come. We just caught him with some French girl." said John, his face and tone betraying no emotions.

"What the hell... Delilah, are you alright?" Harry asked, putting his hand on Delilah's shoulder.

Ron looked furious.

"You punched him in the face, right?" Ron asked.

"Kicked his arse so hard that he'll be shitting sideways for a month." John replied, bluntly.

"Good. Alright Delilah, just... sit down, I'll get some water or something." said Harry, wanting to busy himself.

"Th-thanks." she said, her sobs beginning to subside.

"Want us to get Hermione? Ginny?" Ron asked.

"No, it's fine. Let them sleep, I'll tell them later." said Delilah.

"Sure?" John asked.

"I'm sure. Thank you. Also, thanks for annihilating him earlier too." she said, chuckling slightly tearfully.

"Any time. If you want a repeat performance, don't hesitate to ask. Though I reckon Ron and Harry also want a go." said John.

"Dead right." said Harry, giving Delilah a glass of water.

Delilah smiled at the boys and shook her head.

"Come on. We should go to bed." said Ron.


Harry wasn't sure when his conscious fantasies had slipped into his dreams - they involved Bagman's voice announcing his name at a packed stadium at a Quidditch world cup final, playing for England. He would be facing off against Krum, and flying circles around him, and vague images of Cho Chang cheering him on from a box which he somehow kept an eye on would occasionally show up, but his fantastical dreams were interrupted by Mr. Weasley yelling.

"Ron! Harry! John, wake up! It's urgent!" he yelled.

Harry groaned and got off the bed, confused.

"Dad... what's going on?" Ron asked.

Screams could be heard in the distance, and there was a distinct smell of smoke.

"Grab a jacket and get outside! Quickly!" Mr. Weasley said urgently.

The manic expression on Mr. Weasley's face meant that Harry didn't need to be told twice. But by the time they got outside, everything was complete chaos, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Delilah and John found themselves separated from the Fred, George and Ginny, though Mr. Weasley, Percy, Charlie and Bill told them to head for the woods. And it didn't take them long to figure out why. Dozens of wizards in masks and black hooded cloaks were running amok throughout the massive campsite, setting tens ablaze at random.

In a central clearing, four or so of them could be seen performing a grotesque and humiliating act to the campsite's manager and his wife and young children. They had put them in a trance and levitated them sixty feet in the air, spinning them and cackling with glee.

"That's sick. That's fucking disgusting." Ron said, grimacing.

Hermione didn't bother to correct Ron's language this time. There weren't any other words to describe what was happening.

"Who the hell are these people?" Harry asked.

The central hooded figure tipped Mrs. Roberts upside down. Her nightdress began to fall and she tried desperately to cover herself up. The figures on he ground roared with laughter.

"Fuck... How can you even-" Ron started.

"How can you enjoy this... I mean... a show of force is a show of force, but these people are actually enjoying this!" Delilah seethed.

"Come on... we really don't want to watch this." said Hermione, and they hurried off further into the woods.

Thousands of figures were scurrying through the woods, children were crying with anxious parents trying to placate them, panicked shouts for help and friendly faces were all around them, and the fact that the lights leading to the stadium had been extinguished did nothing to help. Suddenly, Ron yelled out in pain.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Oh this is stupid... Lumos!" said Hermione, whipping out her wand.

"Tripped over a tree root." said Ron, getting up off the floor.

"With feet that size, you'd think you'd be used to it by now." came a drawling voice which never failed to make Harry groan in frustration.

"Go fuck yourself." Ron grunted.

"Language Weasley." said Malfoy, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Shouldn't you lot be hurrying along now? Wouldn't want those two spotted." he added.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Delilah asked, taking a step towards Malfoy threateningly. Apparently she was still angry at Machado.

"They're after muggles." said Malfoy, simply.

"They're witches." John said in a bored voice.

"I'm surprised you forgot Malfoy. They keep beating you in every test. I know for a fact that your dad's not happy about that." said Harry.

Malfoy's face flashed with surprise momentarily, before he recovered.

"Well the thing is Dursley... you've already proven that you mudbloods are all show. You're not as smart as your grades suggest. All you can do is regurgitate stuff you read." said Malfoy.

"What are you on about?" Ron asked angrily.

"Antonio of course. He and I made a bet last year. I bet he couldn't get Dursley or Granger to like him. I lost, but I'm kind of happy I did." said Malfoy smugly.

Delilah's eyes narrowed, and before she lunged at Malfoy, John grabbed her wrist.

"If it was just a bet, why did he stay with her for so long?" he challenged.

"Don't know. My best guess though? He liked feeling you up. Mudblood or not, tits are tits. Have to say, Granger's not looking to bad either. Good thing I've got better taste though." said Malfoy, looking Hermione up and down.

Harry and Ron looked ready to take their wands out, and Hermione's face was contorted into a look of rage on par with the day when she hit Malfoy. John now had to wrap his arm around Delilah to prevent her from lashing out. No one could remember Delilah ever looking so furious.

"Better taste... like what? Parkinson? Bullstrode? I mean if you're into bestiality I'm not one to judge, but... I wouldn't call those two swamp donkeys 'better'." said John, somehow keeping his temper in check.

Malfoy's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.

"Least they're not mudbloods." Malfoy mumbled.

"Stop saying that!" Ron barked.

"Forget it, let's just go and find the others." Hermione said, tugging on his and Harry's sleeves.

John finally saw it as safe to release Delilah.

"Keep that bushy head of yours down Granger!" Malfoy sneered.

Hermione went slightly pink but remained resolute.

"Come on!" she said to the others.

About ten seconds later, when Malfoy was out of earshot, Ron opened his mouth again.

"I like your hair." he blurted out.

The others stopped in their tracks.

"W-what?" Hermione asked.

Ron suddenly realized that he had said that out loud.

"Er... I mean... it's just... nice." he said, his ears going more vividly red than his hair.

Delilah smiled at them, but Harry and John just caught each other's eye and desperately tried to hide their laughter behind coughs. It was not convincing. Delilah's smile turned into a glare at the two brothers.

Ron and Hermione didn't seem to notice though.

Hermione's blush became more prominent before she replied.

"Th-thanks Ron." she said, before setting off again.

John could see that she was struggling to contain a very wide smile.

Smirking to himself, he nudged Harry.

"Call me cupid." he whispered.

"I talked to Ron about it too." Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but I'm the 'Cassanova' as you pointed out." said John, smugly.

"It'll take something really special to shrink that damn ego of yours, won't it?" Harry asked.

John merely shrugged.

Soon afterwards, they came across a group of young wizards and withes roughly their age in a huddle. A curly-haired girl stepped forwards.

"Ou est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue..." she said.

"Hang on... I'm trying to remember some French..." said John, pausing.

"Nous sommes... Anglais? Je sius desole." he said, with a somewhat crude French accent.

"Nous sommes etudians Hogwarts." said Hermione, aiding John, with a more convincing French accent.

"Ah, oui." said the French girl, turning back to her friends.

"Beauxbatons." said Hermione.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Beauxbatons. A school in France, I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe." said Hermione.

"Oh... of course." said Harry.

"Fred and George can't be too far ahead." said Ron, pulling his wand out and lighting it up like Hermione's. Delilah and John did so as well.

Harry dug around in his pockets, and his stomach lurched when he could only find his omnioculars in there.

"No... I've lost my wand!" he said.

"You're joking..." Ron said.

They looked around the floor in proximity to them, but couldn't find it.

"I must've left it back in the tent." said Harry.

He felt very vulnerable without it - especially given that there were masked lunatics running about.

"We'll get dad or someone to summon it, don't worry." Ron said reassuringly.

They heard a sudden rustling coming from the bushes, and out came Winky the house elf, moving as if someone or something was holding her back. Every step she made looked lacking in purpose, and her head was constantly twitching and looking about like a gazelle on the lookout for a lion.

"There is bad wizards! Bad wizards in cloaks! Winky is not staying in one place while they is here!" she shrieked upon recognizing Harry.

She swiftly disappeared behind the treeline, fighting whatever force was restraining her all along the way.

"Why's she moving like that?" Ron wondered.

"Probably didn't ask for permission to hide or something." said Harry, with Dobby's consistent self flagellation in mind.

"You know, house elves get a very raw deal!" Hermione said indignantly. "This is outright slavery! Winky was up in the stadium on Crouch's orders, even though she's afraid of heights! And he's got her bewitched so that she can't even run properly when there's danger afoot! Someone has to put a stop to it!"

"I wonder who that someone'll be." John quipped.

"Wasn't she saying stuff like 'house elves is not supposed to have fun'? Sounds like they prefer being bossed around and all." Ron mused.

"It's people like you Ron." Hermione began hotly, the complement on her hair all but forgotten. "Who prop up immoral and unjust systems, just because you're too lazy!" Hermione seethed.

"Hermione, they want to be bossed around. They want to serve wizards. I have no idea why, but they aren't human, they don't think like us. Yeah, some of them get awful masters, but I think you're... I don't know how best to put it... projecting your own ideals onto them." said Delilah.

"Besides, remember that Harry freed Dobby, and even though Dobby's free, he's been looking for work, according to Winky." said John.

"Well they still shouldn't be treated as poorly as-" she began before a loud bang threw them out of the discussion.

"Let's keep moving." said Ron, looking warily at Hermione and Delilah. He was likely thinking the same as Harry. Maybe Malfoy was right, and Hermione and Delilah really were in more danger than the boys.