Chapter Two: A Dangerous Sport

~August 20th, 2018~

Munich, Germany

. Abarca (S, Fe, #7) passes quaffle to Valdez (S, M, #20), Valdez scores, Spain scores

. Spain still in the lead, now 430-290

. Crowd goes wild

And no lie, she was right. The ginger leans on the edge of her seat as spirited shrieks vibrate the wooden stadium. This game has been going on for hours but everyone is far from exhausted. This is the World Cup between Spain and Germany but could still be anyone's game. Flashes of red and yellow jerseys speed faster than those with black and red jerseys. After over a decade of professional Quidditch competing, Ginny has a special keen eye for the game-play. No need for those silly omnioculars.

The quill furiously carves ink onto Ginny's notepad named "Daily Prophet," recording as many observations she can make. As always, she sits in a special reserved spot in the top box that are for Quidditch correspondents only. She already recorded interviews of the captains of each team before the game started. All that foreign language studies paid off for interviewing the Spanish team. She was really lucky Germany's captain spoke rough English for her.

A flag of each country dance feverishly in the cool wind as the air smells like odd mixes of pumpkin juice, warming apple cider, firewhiskey and musty salt. Gray clouds separate the fully lit stadium and the stars and moon above. That doesn't matter, what matters is the game, and the eyes of crazed sport fans of each team feed on the ongoing action above them. A beater would constantly hit a bludger to fight the other team (three people are already are sitting out from injuries), chasers throw quaffles back and forth as if it was a hot potato, keepers lash out with full effort to prevent the tetrahedron ball from entering their hoops, and seekers tread carefully while their eyes become more strained by every minute.

Ginny's family left almost an hour ago, for Lily drifted to fast sleep and her brothers were fighting to stay awake. Her daughter never seemed too interested in Quidditch but her boys were the complete opposite. James, being the popular beater he is, was excited to watch another World Cup but even he grew tired of watching after five hours. Albus, who is hoping to make it anywhere on the Hogwarts Gryffindor team this upcoming year spent most of the time studying how the players played rather than enjoying the game. Even though he is Gryffindor material, he can be quite worrisome. As for her husband, Harry took them home and stayed.

To the average eye, it's hard to keep up with the witches and wizards zooming on their Lightning Dash 100's. Those brooms almost made Ginny laugh, for when she retired her and some other worthy champions each received a Lightning Dash 5000. It was rumored (yet not proven) that the Lightning Dash 5000 really do go as fast as light itself. Many people can't get those brooms for various reasons: it was worth over ten-thousand galleons, riding on it required immense strength against the air resistance, and many did not have the stomachs or hearts for the ride. To Ginny, these Lightning Dash 100's were child's play.

Savages with red and yellow paint splattered on their raging faces pound their fists against the bleachers on one side of the stadium. On the other side stand red and black ruffians rooting for all the luck they can get. These blood-thirsty fans show no mercy for their enemy team as they spit out insults and intense animal grunting. The ginger smirks to herself, for she remembers taking in all that negativity. Good times. She makes one last glance at the fans wearing enlarged hats and scarfs that both share the same colors before looking back at the players. All these wild reactions fuel up Ginny's fires within her. Her entire life has never been boring or uneventful, so she has learned to live and love it. Growing up with the Weasleys and being the youngest sister out of all her older brothers, Ginny grew more than just a backbone.

When she looks back at the main scene, she notices the chants of the Germany supporters seem to be working. Her quill jumps back into action.

Chaser Gluck (G, M, #10) has scored ten points

Score still Spain winning, 430-300

The speakers echoed her sentences as both audiences rage with either despair or vigor. Ginny's heart races like those accompanying her.

A hearty man yells behind Ginny. "Well would you look at that!"

A strong feeling in her gut tells her that the game will be close to finishing. Scratch that plan for getting a quick coffee; this could be it! Then, as if it was in slow motion, a seeker extends her arm out in the field, dodging every bludger and even the other seeker. Incantation replaces the Germany cheering. It's in German but Ginny can make a rough translation.

Baasch, Bassch, she never lets the snitch go!

...

She fights,

She...

She aims,

She never misses a catch!

...

Baasch, Baasch, our fighting warrior!

The singing would repeat over and over, gradually getting louder. Ginny watches the famous seeker's long brown hair that is kept up in a shiny sleek ponytail shake violently to the wind gushing at it. She would know this feeling, and she could almost hear the wind cuffing her own ears. That sound of rushing wind would always cause her neck hairs to sick up back when she played.

Seeker Baasch (G, Fe, #2) reaches in for the snitch...

BAASCH, BAASCH,

Next, Mrs. Potter finds herself standing and leaning eagerly over the railing. Neither team was in her heart's desire to win, but it her thoughts are starting to favor for Germany. Not because of the countries or that Germany is an inch close to winning, but because the team's captain was really nice to her. Everyone was standing on the edge; so close to either jumping off the cliff or parading in the other direction. Baasch leans over her broom with one thrust, and the crowd goes mad.

BAASCH, BAASCH, SHE NEVER LETS THE SNITCH GO!

Ginny hollers with the thousands of people below her as Spain's team rush to their seeker. The victorious woman holds out the fluttering golden snitch; its wings flailing in between her fingers. Her pearly white and perfectly straight teeth reflect the lights centered on her. Waves of clapping, screaming, crying, rooting, chanting, singing, siren blasting, whistling and faint groans attack Ginny's eardrums as she finishes the rest on her notepad. GERMANY WINS!

Baasch catches the snitch at 01:06 a.m.

Germany wins at their own stadium, Germany wins 428th Quidditch World Cup, score 450-430

Game started: August 19th at 07:30 p.m. Ended: August 20th at 01:06 a.m.

Congratulations to Germany! Well played by both teams!

Her notebook closes and Ginny grabs it with joy. People are already starting to head to their tents nearby, others apparate, and the rest make way to their port keys. As for Ginny, she prefers a different mode of transportation. Watching good Quidditch games like this makes her famished with riding a broom herself. She starts on the flights of stairs with the other worn out sport fans. Her mind is racing with her satisfied heart.

If it's 01:12 a.m. in this city of Germany, then London should be only an hour behind. No doubt her children would be sleeping right now. September is just around the corner, so the kids will be going back to Hogwarts very soon. James Sirius Potter would be starting his sixth year, Albus Severus Potter would be starting his second year, and it would be Lily Luna Potter's last year before she starts Hogwarts with her older brothers. The years seem to fly by with her kids. They should slow down that growing!

Ginny now walks away from the stadium as she pulls out her wand. "Accio Lightning Dash 5000!"

She continues to walk away from the old stadium with a fat grin below her stubby nose. Her broom is all the way in her vacation house's garage, so she'll have to wait. Not too long, for it is the fastest broom made yet. Her eyes scavenge around her; giggles leave her mouth as she watches a wasted yet happy couple stumble out, two little girls sleeping on each of their father's arms, and what makes her smile the biggest was seeing two women who happen to be madly in love with each other plant a vigorous kiss on their lover's lips; the darker-haired taller woman scooping her short strawberry-ginger wife. This made her think of herself with Harry. Ginny wonders if Harry stayed up this late like he normally does for her. Especially now, when just last week he discovered that the Marauder's Map has vanished from his desk at home and has grown restless at trying to find it again. It would be something Fred and George would do to their parents, steal something like that. Aside from that, Ginevra is excited to go back home and tell Harry what happened; wait until morning to tell the kids that Germany has won. Maybe Germany's triumph will get Lily more into Quidditch. Before she gets home, she has to report to the Ministry and have her notes typed into the Daily Prophet. It's not like people already don't know about the ga-

Sudden uproars of screaming crescendo behind Ginny; almost causing her to jump out of her sneakers. For a second she thought she missed something that the sports fans were cheering over. But that can't be. Ginny was sure she saw the players leave the field before she left the stadium. That wasn't the only thing that threw her off, but also those screams... These screams weren't the normal screams she heard earlier. They didn't sound like it was filled with spirit but instead, with terror. These screams were like Harry's from his occasional nightmares years back. He doesn't have these nightmares anymore... but still.

Now Ginny can't leave. This is indeed news related to the game and she is at a safe distance for now, before the brave (yet sometimes unwise) Gryffindor part of her does something about it. Massive amounts of people rush out of the stadium exits; many of them hacking their lungs out and faces darkened. It smells like a campfire; Ginny always hated that smell. By squinting her eyes she can see flames of orange and yellow consuming the wooden stadium. Heavy black smoke rises to the thick barrier of clouds. The flames flourish and become more noticeable. Aguamenti can't even solve this problem. Ginny has never seen conflagrations as thick as this before.

"A fire?!" Ginny gasps, and her notebook levitates back to her height and the quill automatically writes:

A swarming fire engulfs the stadium just minutes later

Many witches and wizards rush from the old wooden stadium that happens to be made out of wood

Cause of fire is unknown

People jump off the stadium-

Wait, what?! Oh but it's woefully factual. It seems a little bit absurd that people are choosing to jump off the burning stadium. Wouldn't they rather escape the fire instead of plummeting to immediate death? Everyone was leaving when she was, so there can't be that much people still in there. She needs to get help for these people. Should she go inside for those survivors, or would that be a senseless action considering she has too much to lose if she puts her life in jeopardy like that? Her broom should be here any second, then it wouldn't be so dangerous to safe these people. Another two people shake hands with death as they fall from the very top. More?!

Now, the flames aren't the only object providing light, but now flashes of red, white, purple and green light join the fire. Squealing horror leaves many mouths before these flashes were used on them. Ginny saw the rare green flashes forcing people to the ground. She only knew one spell that gave green sparks, and seeing people getting hit with that unforgivable curse made her feet freeze to the ground. Her throat would close as her heart pumped twice as fast. All of her blood drains from her face. These murderers, torturers and rebels seem to spread more with the innocent running people.

This wasn't just a fire...

She witnesses another two men shoot a red bolt at another guy, making the other man's back bleed through his sweater. Next, the same two guys meet gaze with Ginny's widened eyes. Once they grin malevolently at her, Ginny walks back; pointing her wand at them. They showed no fear as they strutted closer to her. The woman found herself shaking dramatically on the inside as she tried to keep her face as serious as possible. Then Ginny's ears detected a small object piercing the ear behind her. It's her broom, finally.

The thought of apparating didn't cross her mind however it would've been helpful. Especially now, as she watches the amount of these terrible people increase in size. Right now, these men were occupying her thoughts. Just fight them and leave. Get help. Stop these two before they kill me and more innocent people.

What if they shot the killing curse at her? She saw them do it to another person without sympathy. The curse is unblockable, so she can't take any chances. Just as the broom arrived beside her hips, the one man with shoulder-length greasy brown hair casts, "REDUCTO!" Ginny looked over; her broom was ripped open and shattered into splinters. Without her looking, the other man lashed his last spell onto her; a shade of white that made her knees buckle, causing her to body to crumble down on the cold soil.

That didn't stop Ginny. While still on the ground she pointed her wand to the bald man.

"Stupef-"

"Expelliarmus!"

It was as if the men read her mind. There must be another way; there must be something she could do. What is left, physically fighting these two men who each happen to have a wand including hers? There must be a way; maybe the Aurors such as her very own husband and law enforcement will arrive to save her in time. She has never felt so helpless before in her life as these two men snigger closer to her; pointing their sharp wands at her. Then, something starts inside of her; something she felt once when she was battling with Bellatrix Lestrange. Many people would call this as an act of survival. Her mind has changed to one thing and one thing only. Do whatever it takes to survive, for she must for her kids, her family... the love of her life. Could he bear being an only father and losing another person close to him?

Survival.

These men were obviously not going to pity her, so now there's Plan B: Giving these damned blokes more than a piece of their medicine.

As the men hover over her, her left leg swings at full speed at the bald man's legs; tripping him and shooting up to punch him down. Her bleeding knuckles sting but the pain becomes rapidly replaced by pure adrenaline. The survival instincts first tell her to grab the man's two wands, and so she did. A flash of scarlet aims straight at Ginny, but she blocks it as an impulse. A great, life-saving impulse. Her wand is back in her right hand. Once the man on the floor struggles back up, she immediately stops him.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Unable to block, the man on the ground is refrained from moving. The skinny guy she faces now points his wand at the ginger. This girl can seriously pack a fight. Instead of throwing a spell at her, his face leans closer; then backing away at least a couple feet. "¡Es la esposa de Harry, Harry Potter! Se llama Ginevra. ¡Es Señora Potter!"

Ginny understood everything he said, but his voice was slurred. He was wasted yet still knows exactly who she is, the wife of Harry Potter; the man who defeated the dark lord. She gave him a superior grin; perhaps he is changing his mind on who he messes with.

The man just stands there; his arm trembling. Did she use the petrifying spell on him too? It sure seemed like it. But Ginny didn't care, she wanted to finish them. Who knows what would've happened if she didn't trip the bulky bald wizard and taken back her wand!

Just as Ginny was about to perform another petrifying spell, the man lowered his wand. His tan body didn't seem so tan right now, and he wasn't even looking at her. Those dark brown eyes focused on someone behind her instead. "S-Señor..." he whispered without energy left.

Then it happened. Ginny didn't even have time to turn, for all the nerves throughout her body felt as if they were being ripped out of her. Scorching knives slice open her temporal and dig inside every part of her brain. Her heart accelerates and tries to pump blood into arteries that feel like it's too tight to pass through. Muscle fibers feel like the desert that became so dry it started on fire. Every single cell shrieks in peril agony with Ginny as her throat warms up from so much pressure. Her body is in a fetal position as her fists clench up. The two lungs feel so abused from her constant screaming; making it harder to take another deep inhale for another round. Her bones vibrated and wouldn't stop jabbing her spine at her brain. It might feel so good to die right now.

She can't... for her children, she can't die. Not here, not now.

Ginny tries to think other than the torture, but she can't. It's so intense; she doesn't think her heart can take it any faster than it is right now. The digested food in her intestines boil as her blood turns cold. She must fight through it; whatever she does she cannot beg them to kill her. It feels like she is dying, she just wants it to stop.

After what seconds seemed like hours, the man behind her stopped the Cruciatus Curse. The pressure seemed to cloud her eyes; that and the tears did help blind her. This sense of relief was the best she could possibly feel right now, but it's still not completely fulfilled as the men remained. She couldn't see the one who tortured her, but she did have a strong feeling that this man was behind this; all of this.

Next, the man behind her hissed sternly at the two guys beside her. His voice had a low tone full with fury and she did not understand a word he was saying. It sounded Russian almost, except the accent was off just slightly. She never bothered with Russian, yet now she regrets it. What was he saying? Is he going to kill her? Torture her again?

She's too weak to apparate now. Everything feels so worn out, like her muscles got tossed around in the washing machine for an hour straight and hung out to dry. The adrenaline rush was over for she can feel everything afterwards.

Hands shoot up over her body, pointing to each of the two men. The one looking just as weak as her just moments ago walked closer to her defenseless being, with the wicked expression drawn all over his face. The man whom she petrified seems to be acting as if nothing happened. Something in their eyes told her both danger and fraudulence. The one with shoulder-length hair started blowing formidable kicks that kept striking her rib cage. Some of those flexible bones actually snapped inside her, but Ginny couldn't scream. She used up all of her screams already.

The bald man bent over, enjoying the show as he gave her a few stinging slaps across her face. She knew what came next; his cigarette rotten saliva splatters at different parts of her face, like shotgun gunpowder. Thank goodness her mouth wasn't open, for she would've ejected her stomach out.

The skinny bloke pulls out the Daily Prophet notepad and looks through it. He muttered something insulting in the Russian language and kicks the poor ginger again, this time in the head. Next thing she noticed was that the stadium wasn't the only thing bursting in flames of negativity. A splitting headache is born within her head as she swears she can feel the back of her skull getting moist and drenching her hair.

Hands above her impale the air, and the men seem to have flown back a few yards. It was like they were the man's puppets. How could that happen?

Finally, she saw part of the evil sorcerer's figure, but it didn't last. A wand slowly meets it head with her chest. The man did not speak for the spell, and the last spell she ever faces again had a purple flourish. Something inside her didn't feel right after it. Nothing in her chest and abdominal was solid it seemed like. All her organs- all just mush.

The purple light absorbed in her body as she just noticed the three men weren't there anymore. It did not make things better, for Ginny felt weaker within every following second. The spell had to contain some kind of glass or acid, for she felt her own boiling blood pouring from all her organs internally. Her heart started to beat faster... and weaker... and faster...

Her head turns for her cheek to lie on the cold ground. Only screams of other individuals are heard now. Ginny's vision seems to recede to Harry's level without his glasses. The stadium that continues to burn makes creaking yelps numerous times before finally collapsing on itself. Why did this happen? What wrong thing caused this whole mess? Law enforcement is not even here yet. Slowly, the feeling in Ginny's toes and fingers are gone. While her torso still seems to be warm, the arms and legs get cold.

There is a scream very close to where Ginny's body is; a child's scream. Ginny makes all effort to slide her vacant head over to the spot. The woman can make out who the little kid with a yellow blob on his head was. She can barely see the face to recognize it as every pulse her heart gives her eyes an extra blurry covering. A tear sheds from her eyes as she is forced to listen to this child sobbing his lungs out. The boy seems to be doing all of this on top of another body. If only she could get up to help the child, but her arms and legs seem to be struggling to feed their nerves.

She hears shoes grinding frantically against the hard soil and her dying bloodshot eyes make out another man with the same hair scurrying up from behind the child. The familiar alarmed voice shouts the child's name. His father has come.

"D-Dad," the little boy weeps. "S-She's gone... She can't be... She just needs help..."

The father seemed to kneel there for a while, but then the moment ended with another person screaming in the background. "C'mon, we need to go. Now!"

"NO DAD, NO! WE CAN'T LEAVE H-"

But before the boy finished, the man forced his arms around his son and aparated. Ginny moves her eyesight back on the collapsed stadium. Flames still erode from the wood but there is a difference between when this fire started and the fire right now. One was violent, and now it's peaceful. It's no longer trying to terrorize, but instead to smolder in the ashes. The only light provided that very early morning was these tiny and thin flames.

The screaming seems to fade away. Ginny doesn't pay attention to that anymore. Only the faces of her loved ones and finally her children pop in her mind. Her last thoughts.

Her arms and legs finally lose feeling too and all her pain inside her seems to be going to go away. It's so serene right now for Ginevra Weasley Potter, and gradually, blackness creeps over her eyes. Everything feels so great without any pain. No aging pains. No uncomfortable positions. No nothing. Her lungs exhale one final time as her large pupils die and the reflections of the remaining flames grow more visible to the living that next lay eyes on her.