CHAPTER 3 - THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP
A/N: A mystical power link the Triwizard Champions. Fire, Water, Earth, Air and Lighting. How will Harry, Fleur, Cedric, Krum and Draco cope with these powers? Will they be able to defeat Voldemort? Harry/Fleur Cedric/Cho and Krum/Katie. Intelligent!Harry
A/N 2: I decided to include a modified version of the match in this chapter, due to being one of my favourite parts of HP.
A/N 3: I have edited and reposted this chapter.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Simples!
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Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Harry couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Harry could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.
"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again...bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.
"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, you too Amos, and as high as you can go."
The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Their party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About thirty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in three rows.
As they entered Harry nearly crumpled as he was hit by a silver-haired girl, who hugged him tightly. Harry looked down to see the enthralling blue eyes of Fleur.
"Quick, come sit with me," said Fleur dragging Harry away, followed by an amused Cedric.
When Fleur stopped Harry was greeted by a handsome, dark-haired man, who Harry presumed was Fleur's dad.
"Jacques Delacour, Head of International Co-operation for France, pleased to meet you," said the man, shaking Harry's hand.
Next to her a woman who appeared to be Fleur's mother," Astrid Delacour, we've heard a lot about you," said Fleur's mother, making Fleur blush.
"This is my younger sister, Gabrielle," said Fleur gesturing at a young girl who looked almost like a ten year old version of Fleur.
"Who's this strapping young man," asked Astrid, indicating towards Cedric.
Fleur was lost for words, unsure of who Cedric was, although she seen him mere hours ago.
"I think someone one looking at Harry a bit too much," said Jacques, making Fleur and Harry blush, much to Cedric's amusement.
"Ahh, young love," joked Cedric, only to receive a punch in the arm from Harry.
"Who can blame them?" asked Astrid wistfully, which made Cedric snigger.
"I'm Cedric Diggory, by the way," he said, as he recovered from his laughter. He then shook hands with Jacques and Astrid.
The group then sat down. Jacques sat on the far left with Astrid, Gabrielle and Fleur to his right. Harry had sat next to Fleur with Cedric on his other side. Harry could only grin goofily at his closeness to Fleur.
Harry only then realised they were sat some distance from the Weasleys. He nearly laughed at their reactions, Ron was sat staring at them in disbelief, as were Bill, Charlie and Percy. Ginny was slightly fuming and the twins merely grinned before they got up and joined their group, taking the seats to Cedric's right.
"What do we have here?" asked Fred.
"Looks like little Harry has been holding out on us," replied George, gesturing to Fleur.
"Not so little anymore, is he?" added Cedric. The three of them then broke into laughter, making both Harry and Fleur blush.
"This is Fred and George Weasley, Hogwarts resident pranksters," said Harry, over the laughter of his friends," don't worry, you'll get used to them, hopefully."
"Actually it's Gred and Forge," added the twins.
This statement made Fleur laugh," so you all go to Hogwarts?"
"Yeah," answered Harry," where do you go?"
"Beauxbatons," replied Fleur to Harry's disappointment," it's going to a interesting year to say the least."
"Why?" asked Cedric, now interested.
"You don't know about it, do you?" answered Fleur.
"About what?" questioned George.
"The Triwizard Cup, my dad told me about it," stated Fleur.
"The what?," asked Harry, confused.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued," explained Fleur.
"That sounds fun," said Harry sarcastically.
"Oh, come on," said Fleur," in fact I'm thinking of entering, considering ill be of age on the tenth of September."
Harry shoulders noticeably slumpped at this statement, what would an amazingly beautiful girl, who was nearly an adult, want with him?
"Of age?" asked Fred.
"Oui, you have to be of age to enter," replied Fleur.
"By when?" questioned George.
"Halloween," answered Fleur, making the twins groan in disappointment, as their birthday was April 1st, well beyond the allotted date.
"You know, I might enter," said Cedric thoughtfully.
"When are you of age?" asked Harry.
"September 16th," replied Cedric.
"What year are you gonna be in when we go back?" questioned Harry.
"Sixth Year, so will Gred and Forge, Fleur? replied Cedric.
Fleur nodded her head," oui, I'll be going into Sixth Year, as the English say, in France we call it 'le première année'."
"Viktor Krum is gonna be in Sixth Year," said Fred dreamily. This made Harry, Fleur, Cedric and George laugh.
"What year going back into?" asked Fleur, after the laughter had subsided.
"Fourth Year," replied Harry.
"Really, I thought you would have been at least Fifth Year," said Fleur surprised.
"Yeah Harry, you do look different, older somehow," said Cedric thoughtfully.
"That's it," shouted Fred triumphantly," your hair, you've grown your hair."
Harry ran his hand through his hair and realised how long it had gotten, it was starting to cover his eyes.
"I like it," said Fleur, making Harry blush and Cedric and the twins snigger.
"Ah-well-ummm," stuttered Harry.
"You've put weight on as well," said George," in a good way, you looked real skinny before."
"At least mum I'll be happy," said Fred, as George nodded his head enthusiastically.
Harry flicked as lock of hair from over his eyes, now conscious of his long hair," yeah, since Dudley got put on a diet, I sent a letter to Ron, Hermione and Hagrid practically begging for food."
"Who's Dudley?" asked Fleur.
To answer this Harry quickly explained the Dursleys and how they had treated.
Harry again flicked away a lock of hair," I got loads of food back."
"Who from?" asked Fred interested.
Before Harry could reply, Fleur put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a red hairband.
"Here, use this," she said, handing it to him. Harry grimaced, but put it on.
"Anyways," spoke Harry," I got food from you, Hermione, Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape."
"Snape!" choked Fred through his drink," he hates you! Why?"
Harry shrugged," I dunno."
"You know your mum and Snape were best friends as children," said Cedric, shocking Harry and the twins.
"Really, how do you know?" asked Harry in disbelief.
"My dad told me," replied Cedric," he was the year above them."
"Then why does he hate Harry?" asked Fred.
"Apparently he loved her," explained Cedric," probably still does."
"But still, why," said George.
"He probably hates Harry because he looks so much like his father, who hates for taking Lily away from him," commented Cedric.
Before Harry could reply a voice rang out," oh look who it is, The Boy Who Lived."
The group span in there seats to find the speaker was none other than Lucius Malfoy, flanked by his son, Draco Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa Malfoy.
Lucius looked at the twins and Fleur," Weasleys and a half-breed, I thought you could stoop no lower."
Mr. Weasley then approached them," what's going on here?" he then looked at Lucius," oh, it's you."
"Come on, Arthur," said Lucius, "what did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
Before Mr. Weasley could reply the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge walked up.
Harry and Draco Malfoy had been enemies ever since their very first journey to Hogwarts. A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose. Then to Harry's surprise Draco's face softened and he mouthed 'sorry' to Harry and his friends, before his faced hardened again.
"Ah, Fudge," said Lucius, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"
"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Narcissa. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Lucius looked at each other and Harry vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Lucius's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.
Cornelius Fudge then greeted Harry like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.
"Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter...oh come on now, you know who he is...the boy who survived You-Know-Who...you do know who he is -"
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat...Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places"
Fudge then said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.
Lucius nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father. This only served to confuse Harry further.
Sitting down Harry asked to Fleur," why did he call you a half breed?"
"Because I'm a quarter Veela," replied Fleur slightly upset.
"What's a Veela?" asked Harry.
"A Veela is a creature that resembles a woman, in times gone by Veela would entice men into their lair using their charming powers," replied Fleur.
"Charming powers?" questioned Harry.
"Yeah, they make themselves look unresistable to men," continued Fleur, who then completed an in depth explanation of a Veela.
"Well, if you ask me, I'd say I didn't care if you were a quarter Veela," said Harry, making Fleur both blush and smile.
Harry sat back in his comfortably, only to see Ron and Hermione gesturing to talk to them. Groaning, he stood up, in the last few hours Harry had been doing some serious thinking. Mostly due to his new friendships with Fleur, Cedric and the twins.
He had realised how jealous Ron was, he had seen the dirty and jealous looks he'd been giving him when he was sat with Fleur. Harry had also realises how obnoxious Hermione truly was. In the exams at the end of third year Harry had excelled in his exams. He had beaten Hermione in DADA, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions. Hermione had refused to speak to him for ages after that and even when she began speaking to him she had been very cold towards him.
The professors of each of the subjects he had beaten Hermione in had approached him and given him extra work to do, which he had already completed. Professor McGonagall had even suggested he might be able to take his OWLs at the end of fourth year and move straight onto sixth year.
Dragging his feet, he reached Hermione and Ron, who dragging him out of the Top Box.
Once they had left Hermione screeched," Her!" at the top of her voice.
"What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"She's a half-breed," said Hermione," she's a Veela."
"So what if she is?" asked Harry rhetorically.
"She's probably using her charm on you, mate," replied Ron.
"That was a rhetorical question, Ron and trust me, I've seen the jealous looks and the way you've been acting and safely say you are no longer my friend," shouted Harry.
"What!" shouted Ron back," Just because of that Veela slut!"
As Harry heard this he could actually feel fire burning in his veins. Without a seconds delay Harry launched forwards and punched Ron squarely on the jaw.
"Don't you ever call her that," whispered Harry menacingly," she's twice the person you'll ever be."
Hermione tried to approach Harry," Sod off Hermione," shouted Harry," you obnoxious interferer!"
Harry turned around and re-entered the Top Box leaving a dazed Ron and a confused Hermione.
As he entered the box, Harry could feel the stares piecing into him. Obviously the Top Box was not sound-proofed. Harry quickly walked back to his seat and sat down, sighing.
"That bad huh," said Cedric.
Harry nodded.
"Our arrogant, obnoxious prat of a brother being his usual self?" asked Fred.
Harry nodded.
"Wanna talk about it?" asked George.
Harry shook his head.
"Oh Fred, by the way you missed self-centered," said Harry, making the others chuckle.
Five minutes later Ron and Hermione re-entered the Top Box, both looked like they had been crying.
Before could react Ludo Bagman erupted into the Top Box," now if you don't mind, let's get on with the show."
"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 Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.
Then a hundred veela, as Fleur had described them, were now gliding out onto the field. The veela had started to dance, and Harry couldn't help but laugh, the twins were flexing their muscles and the other Weasleys, bar Mr Weasley, were performing all manner of amusing stunts.
Harry looked around the stadium, a small number of men looked unaffected. The only men unaffected in the Top Box were Cedric, Draco, Mr Weasley, Jacques and himself. The fact that Harry was unaffected made all the Delacours look in surprise. The lack of response shown in Harry was something that was strived for by Veela.
Harry watched as the Veela line up at the side of the field. Harry, along with Cedric and Fleur burst out laughing at Ron, who was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.
Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry again looked at Ron, who, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned 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 openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.
Hermione made a loud tutting noise. "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 came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks 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 Fred as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.
"Leprechauns!" said Cedric over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.
The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field 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 field 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!"
As the proclaiming of Viktor's name, Harry said," we met him earlier."
"You what!" shouted Fred in disbelief.
"Yeah he told us," said Cedric, pointing at Harry and himself," he wanted to fly against us at Hogwarts."
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 seventeen in a month.
"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 field; 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 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 mustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, 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.
"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"
It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.
HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"
"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"
"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Fleur, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.
Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.
Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.
The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.
"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry watched as the Weasleys screwed up their fingers in their ears and shut their eyes too, they obviously wanted to keep their minds on the game. After a few seconds, he took a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.
"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.
One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was -
"They're going to crash!" screamed Fleur next to Harry.
She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.
"Fool!" moaned Cedric. "Krum was feinting!"
"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"
"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."
Harry hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes.
He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT - DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. He saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.
Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far.
After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.
As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.
"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"
The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!"
The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.
As one, the Weasley boys stuffed their fingers into their ears, who needn't hadn't bothered.
"Look at the referee!" Fleur said, giggling.
Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.
"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"
A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.
"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before...Oh this could turn nasty...
It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.
"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go...and Troy takes the Quaffle..."
Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.
"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.
"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"
The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -
"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"
Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Harry turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffie changed hands with the speed of a bullet.
"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"
But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -
The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.
Fleur tightened the grip on Harry's hand he hadn't realised she had.
There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.
Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Fred obviously felt the same.
"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"
"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.
For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing...
"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"
Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on...but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -
"They're going to crash!" shrieked Fred.
"They're not!" roared George.
"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.
And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.
"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, on the front row.
"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Harry.
Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.
The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.
"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.
"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"
"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Harry heard Ron bellow, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"
"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Bill shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good...He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all...
"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess..."
Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.
"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.
"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"
"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.
"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, 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 toward the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, 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!" Bagman shouted.
And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.
One by one, the Bulgarians 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. He was still holding the Snitch. Harry noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. Although he still waved at Harry and Cedric when he saw them.
When Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.
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. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Harry's hands were numb with clapping.
At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), followed by the Bulgarian team bar Krum.
Bagman then 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.
Before the twins could reply a shout could heard.
"Come here!" shouted Lucius to Draco.
"No," replied Draco.
"I invoke stature 24 of ancient magic that as head of the family, forces to do as a command," said Lucius smugly.
"No, because I am emacipanated," replied Draco calmly.
"What! How!" shouted Lucius.
"You see, my dear godfather Severus Snape was more than happy to help me perform the ritual, all he had to do was observe and sign on the dotted line," replied Draco, smugly.
At this the whole stadium gasped as they could hear the event happening in the Top Box, due to a few well placed spells from Draco.
"Well, this is unexpected," whispered Fred sarcastically to Harry, Cedric, Fleur, Krum and George, all of whom were stood together.
"What," screeched Lucius, who looks at Fudge," is he allowed to do this?"
Fudge nods," I'm afraid he is, you see the emancipation ritual only needs a relative to observe and sign and a godfather fits the requirements."
"So my dear ex-parents," said Draco," it's time you paid for your crimes."
"What crimes?" asked Lucius.
"The ones you performed during your time as a Death Eater," said Draco grabbing Lucius's sleeve and putting it up to reveal the Dark Mark.
"This proves nothing, I was under the Imperious Curse," said Lucius. He leaned forward to whisper in Draco's ear," you cannot prove anything, I am the law."
Lucius sat down and sipped his firewhiskey.
"That's where you're wrong," replied Draco," you see I put Veritaserum in your drink." Draco uncovered a small bottle of clear liquid as Lucius choked in his drink.
"Now, were you, Lucius Malfoy and your wife Narcissa under the Imperious during your time as Death Eaters?" asked Draco.
"No," replied Lucius, as many people in the top box gasped.
Before anyone could react, Lucius struck out, punching Draco in the face, knocking him into Fudge, who looked scandalised.
For a few seconds no one moved then Viktor leapt on Lucius, closely followed by Cedric and Harry. After a minute of fighting the three teens managed to pin Lucius.
"Incarcerous," said Draco, raised his wand and bound his father in ropes thanks to become of age via emancipation.
As Harry, Cedric and Viktor stood up a tall African man entered the top box.
He walked over to Harry shook his hand," Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of the Auror Department," he said with a deep, booming voice.
"Minister," he continued," are we going to arrest them?"
"Yes, we cannot allow Death Eaters running around, not paying for their crimes," replied Fudge as he sat down and downed his drink.
"I place Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy under arrest for willingly taking part in the terrorist group the Death Eaters pending the conformation of a trial date," said Kingsley.
The Auror Guard complied.
"Take them away," Kingsley gestured to the elder Malfoys.
"Wait!" shouted Draco, which made the Aurors leading the elder Malfoys away freeze.
"I need to ask them a few more questions," stated Draco.
Kingsley nodded
"Lucius, was Sirius Black a Death Eater," asked Draco.
"No," replied Lucius.
"Was he guilty of the crimes he was imprisoned for?" questioned Draco.
"No," replied Lucius.
"Why?" asks Draco.
"Because Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed the Potters, he was the real secret keeper, Black was a decoy," replied Lucius," Pettigrew still lives today, he is a rat animagus, he cut off his finger and ran."
"Hmm. With this new evidence I hereby clear Sirius Black of his supposed crimes until a suitable trial sat is found," said Fudge.
"Preposterous!" shouted someone from the crowd.
"We all know Sirius Black wouldn't never have willingly betrayed James and Lily Potter, Pettigrew is a different matter," replied Kingsley," someone will need to find Sirius Black."
Then a the disembodied voice of Sirius Black could be heard," no need Kingsley, I'm right here."
Then Sirius Black appeared from thin air after removing a Disillusionment Charm.
"I'm afraid you've got a little security breach," said Remus Lupin as he too removed a Disillusionment Charm.
The two marauders then approached Harry and enveloped his in a hug.
"Hey Prongslet," said Sirius.
"Hey," replied Harry.
Fudge sat in his seat, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"If it was in any other situation," said Fudge," I would have you arrested, but seen as you're just been cleared on your crimes, I let you off this one time."
Harry snorted silently at this.
"Back to business," said Fudge as the hug broke apart," Sirius I hereby reinstate you as the Head of the Black family and as an Auror."
Sirius nodded.
"Excuse me," said Draco," but since Sirius is my second cousin and Black is my mother's maiden name, could I change my last name to Black?"
"Certainly, you'll have to incorporate the Malfoy fortune into that of the Black fortune, since it is forfeited to you as the two more senior members of the family are under arrest," replied Fudge.
Draco nodded in agreement.
"Sirius?" asked Kingsley.
"I will do it," answered Sirius.
"I, Draco Tiberius Malfoy, shed my last name and return it to that of my mother's maiden name, Black, with the incorporation of the Malfoy fortune into the Black fortune."
"I, Sirius Orion Black, Head of the Black Family agree to your conditions and welcome you, Draco Tiberius Black into the Black Family."
Sirius and Draco then shook hands.
"Now, now," called Fudge," that's enough excitement for one day, so could everyone please leave in an orderly fashion."
At this tree was a great din, as the entire stadium, who had been watching the Top Box, stood and began to exit the stadium.
In the Top Box it too had begun to empty, as Draco walked up to Harry and held his hand out.
"I apologise for the way I have treated you over the last three years," said Draco.
"I accept your aplogy and I would like to apologise for not giving you a chance to prove yourself," replied Harry as Draco nodded.
Instead of shaking Draco's hand Harry embraces him in a manly hug.
After finishing the hug Draco and Harry joined Fleur, Cedric and the twins and set off back to the campsite.
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