Countdown. Two days to the World Cup finale
Hermione walked through the aisles, searching Fred and George's item. As a Class Four dangerous substance, it was illegal to buy or sell it in certain parts of the continent. But in magical Britain, it had a well marketed use as a potent ingredient in a set of Vasodilating solutions. Other potions, with better results were available, but an Erumpent was so huge, an entire batch of the vasodilator scan be made out of it. The budget cuts of could afford that She did not know what they were planning on doing, but a slight modification in the procedure of that potion can also have effects of a Moustache growing potion.
She thanked the owner of the apothecary, and when she returned, she saw her parents talking with an overenthusiastic . He was showing them how the wand worked, (They had never seen magic since the admission procedures, when McGonagall had demonstrated a levitation, and the year before the last's brawl between Arthur and Malfoy's dad was anything but magical.)a bit animatedly, with folk all around shaking their heads. It was a good thing when Fred (or George) slipped beside her, and got the bag from her, when caught hold of her and dragged her on."We've got work to do, Hermione. Dumbledore sent us all the lists for the next year a bit early. He figured we won't have time for it after the Cup."
"Hey, Hermione!" "Hi Harry!"
"Hey Hermione! Did you know? Dad got us Prime seats to the World Cup final. The head of the department of magical sports is a friend, you see..""Hey Ron"
"You should have seen the Bulgarian team defeat the Czech. It was truly magnificent!" said Harry.
She frowned, and gave an expression that she wanted to say "I don't care!" but then asked "So the final is Ireland versus the Bulgarians? I hope Ireland wins. The country is beautiful."
"Then Ron will bite your neck off. He wants Krum to become the next Minister of Magic. Hi Hermione!"
"Hey, Ginny!" Ron scowled and made a face at his sister. "You look better when you do that, Ronnykins. Parkinson would have made a good match." Fred sniggered.
"Where's Percy? I thought you were all coming.. oh, he graduated, didnt he?"
"Yep, Bighead boy graduated, with his ten 'O's and an E in charms. the poor kid was so upset, he shut himself up in his room, and made up for his sins. The good thing was an entire afternoon without him."
"Ooh.. this 'E' ,is it bad?
" It means Exceeds expectations, and it is the second highest grade after O, which stands for Outstanding. He is just a prat. The good thing was that mom forgot our OWLs."
"You passed, right?" "Yeah, we did, and Dumbledore made a special mention of our expertise in 'creative and productive skills'. George loves Dumbledore for that. Unlike the "T, which stands for 'Troll' from dear . We didn't know that internal grading mattered, till Snape got his revenge on us. "
Hermione took the topic to the grading system, and one of the twins explained it to her.
"So, Fred, who do you think will win the Cup,huh?" Harry asked.
"Just because I referred to him as George, dosen't make me Fred."
Harry stared. "He is just joking. I am Fred." said the other twin. "I was George a moment ago, but that dosent make me who I am now."
"Shut up, you two. Harry, Hermione, come with me. I wanted to show you something." said Ginny. Ron trailed along. "She called for Harry and Hermione, and seeing you are neither, why are you following them, Ronny?"
He ignored them and went on.
"I bet he will make prefect by the next year." "I bet you win that one."
Crouch Senior is in the next room. I see his balding head. I shoved a strand of hair away from my eye. It tilted my glasses a bit.
I pushed off the cup of coffee. Bertha sniggers, and I look for the reason. The corridor was being messed up with a man who had swatted at a memo, and all the other memos had started attacking him. Crouch turned and shouted, causing silence. He notices me, and motions me forward. He hid his guilt very well.
His assistant, who looks like a Weasley, came forward and collects the ledgers from me. I ask for the other form that the Chudley Cannons had to fill up before December of that year to get their accounts shifted to another unified account. For no apparent reason, all forms were issued here.
"Are you in first name terms with him, Bertha?" "Yeah, I think so." "Then let me speak to him."
"Barty, I heard it from Ludo about the Tournament. Could you provide me the proposed pamphlets that-"
"Do not speak of that man here Bertha. Weatherby, bring me my tea. These-" he pulls out a stack,"-and these-" another smaller stack"-are the ones to be gone through. Inform him that he could contact my assistant-" He points at Weatherby, " -and that he will take care of it efficiently."
The assistant was suppressing a proud grin.
"Um, the pamphlets, please."
As I leave the room, after a minute of talking with him, I get the idea that he was a respected member of the society, and it would not be in order to hold a civilised conversation.
Still, I ask tentatively. "Will it be possible to meet you at your residence, Sir? I have to discuss a particular matter." I say it without any implications, as if i mean what I say. Crouch stares at me. I am at the doorframe. He thinks and smiles nervously. "Sure, whenever you can."
I come out, with a wide grin on her face. I congratulate her. "You are like the spy at the Ministry I never had, Bertha!"
"Lucius Malfoy"
"He doesn't know I exist."
"Augustus R-"
"Rookwood? He is at Azkaban, if I remember correctly."
"Oh, just shut up."
"Hey, I know you want Crouch to get a deserving hit, my dear-"
"Do you get it? I dont care anymore. I am not upto holding secrets. Crouch knew that, and he hid those memories of his son for that reason. I am not cut out to holding the Dark Lord within me. I am just aiding you so that you leave me as you promised when you got a body. That is all, okay? No more bargaining, no more compromises. You get your body, i get mine. And then we live happily ever after, without coming within a thousand miles close to each other. Get it?"
As I said, I know my cue to respond.
Victor Krum was practicing. "Again!" He shouted. He was absolutely sure that fighting against Ireland would have a clean match, as the Irish had never cheated in their past games. He wasn't sure about how his chasers were going to play against the trio that the Irish had. They were too good. He had to win the game with the snitch, that was for sure. But unlike classic games, this was to be played in a wider construct, with a modified lighting. He was used to playing in daylight, and this game was scheduled in the evening, so it might get darker with the referees making it a practice to come late.
The site was distant, and his team had to take a portkey to get to the site. They all now had Firebolts, thanks to the Headmaster. He snatched the snitch, and called out for Dmitri to pack up. As they left the site, he kissed his mother goodbye, and she called out to him as he went. "Be confident, Victor. You are the one to catch the snitch. I can just feel it."
His father waved. He left to the site of the portkey. His parents would come later via a different portkey. He left, Dmitri patting him in the back with appreciation for his last catch.
On entering the stadium, he was shocked. It was surely larger than his previous calculations, and the stands were made circular too, minimising the area required for most feinting techniques. The stands bound the ground, and it was not even stepped. So it was modelled like a cylindrical structure, with goalposts ending at bronze gongs, to maximise the sounds of scoring.
"The Irish came earlier." said a cheerful blond man. "Ludo Bagman. Nice to meet you!" He said in English. Victor just nodded, and shook hands. He was not interested in conversations right now, so he called Levski to help him unpack. Levski obliged, and with Bagman showing them their tent, they soon went there and took a bit of a rest. The tent had a smell of jasmines. Krum resumed his frown. He wasn't so fond of flowers. He asked for the way to the restroom, and after a few minutes, he returned to find the room full.
"Ah, the captain of the team." "Minister!" "Yes my boy." nodded the Bulgarian Prime Minister. He then pointed at the short stature man in the side, who was looking apprehensive as the conversation was in fluent Bulgarian. "This is Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic." "We were informed of your arrival some time ago, and seeing that the National team of Ireland had already come to their spots yesterday, we came for a check in." said the other Attender, whose name was not told to Victor. "Ludo Bagman entered the room, and Fudge called out "Hey Ludo, I am glad you arrived. I can't understand a word they speak. Is Barty around?"
Victor asked "Minister, do you not know their language?" "M'boy, it is hilarious. Their minister tries gestures of the sort you wil never dream of. Watch this. " He asked "Who am I" in their general direction, and soon, the Minister was explaining the comforts of the tent. Victor hid his smile. The Bulgarian Prime minister was well known for his jovial attitude towards everyone, and this was the second time he saw him. The minister left soon, chattering animatedly to Fudge, who was looking helpless.
Bagman motioned toward Victor. "You have every facility available here, master Krum. Ask for anything, and the house elves shall bring it in. Just call it into the air." By the way, what was your Minister asking Cornelius...?" He trailed off, as Krum was giving no interest to his words, and was just moving towards the window.
Krum saw the green robes, which steeped the pathway, as they entered the stadium. He ran out, as they passed and started mounting their peered in.
They were good.
The Night before the World Cup finale
Harry couldn't sleep. The excitement for the match between Ireland and Bulgaria was not allowing him to enter the embrace of sleep. Tomorrow they will be leaving for the campsite, and would be having the same portkey as the Diggories and another family named the Lovegoods who lived nearby.
He rolled over, and it was hours before he started sleeping.
The wake up call, was startling, as a pillow hit him over and he woke up with a start. Hermione proceeded to hit Ron, who had a thumb in his mouth. As he woke up, he bit his tongue, and screamed.
Molly thundered up the stairs, only to find a crying ron smiling hat her with a "Good morning, mom!"
Fred and George had gotten a new friend and experimental subject in Hermione. She had been impressed with the letter of appreciation from the Headmaster of Hogwarts(with their abysmal grades). She saw a mention of Dumbledore's fear being Molly finding out this letter, and thought of it as an absurd joke, until she saw the ferocity with which Molly checked out the pockets of Fred and George. She suspected them to be trying to sell their sweets and contraptions in the wide world. They did not carry any in their pockets, leaving Molly disappointed. She thought of incinerating their entire stock. They looked at her with a purely innocent smile, and then glanced at Hermione, who nodded. A pouch protected with an Anti-Summoning charm, in Hermione's hand, went unnoticed.
As they waved their goodbyes to Molly, a just-woken up , Hermione asked why Molly didn't come. Molly just gave a smile, and said that she never was interested in it. After they got a little past a mile, Fred came back up with the topic. "She did, you know, like Quidditch much once. It was before a... slight mishap happened, you know, with Dad, at one of their dates. He-" "Hey, telling our story, are you, huh? Go on, along. Ah, Hermione, it was actually at Hogwarts, where we thought of skipping a match, I was keeper back then, for Gryffindor. Well, things got fast, and the idiot beater, you see, we don't know if he did it on purpose, but then that Puff just shot that Bludgers out of nowhere, and it hit her on the face. Just as, we were.. er... getting .. our lips working." He stared at Hermione.
"I didn't need to hear that, ." She gave an embarrassed look.
"Oh so that's the story! I never would have got that out of the twins even after a lifelong of begging. Thanks Dad!"
"Ginny, don't let Molly know that I slipped it out. She doesn't even know that the twins know it."
"Who was the Puff, Dad? Tell us."
Arthur abruptly stopped, staring ahead." I believe that's the one." Amos Diggory was walking towards him, with his son, Cedric. Arthur just hid his previous expression, and welcomed Amos.
"Too far, ain't it, Artie? I believe the location was placed so far for the Lovegoods. Those at the transportation office make these sites equidistant from the houses in question, but they overlook the obvious things. Old Xeno already was at the campsite a week ago. Forced us to walk the distance, those equidistant freaks!"
"Hello, Amos. When is the portkey scheduled?"
"Lemme see. Forty four seconds and ticking! Grab it, folks."
They held the shoe. Harry started with "What do portkeys.." and he felt a jerk behind his navel, and the next instant found him lying spread eagled on the ground. "Do you need a hand, Harry?" asked Cedric as he pulled him to his feet. "Ma son, always the gentleman." exclaimed Amos Diggory, as he went over to the checklist that the ministry wizards on the side were holding, asking them to mark both the Weasleys and the Diggorys.
Arthur frowned, and squinted at a man just within range of sight. Upon seeing his clothes, he beamed. "Muggles!" And started a jog.
"Hullo! I am Arthur. Arthur Weasley. Nice to meet you, Mr?"
"Roberts." Amos and Roberts both replied at the same time. stared at Mr. Diggory's attire, and paused.
There's folk like you over there. It looks like some kinda gathering, with you all campin around. There you go. Checked."
"Thank you, my dear mug.. man! Thanks for all the help you have done."
"Is he foreign?" he asked Hermione as Arthur fumbled at the sheaf of currency. "No, I'm not. Here. Take this."
"Thanks. Your campsite is over there. Do you want me to-" They had left, the twins dragging their father away from Mr Roberts.
The plan is simple. I get along with Bertha to the Crouch mansion, I possess my servant, and Bertha leaves. I pretend as a servant, with my resistance to the Imperius curse, and await Senior to come home to his death. She had vaguely remembered a house elf, but that was accounted for. The question was if I could get out of Bertha without causing her enough pain. I did not know if I had done enough damage with just sharing a part of the horcrux's powers with her.
I would liken the horcrux with an egg. It has the shell, the object, the so called Horcrux, and within it lies it's soul, the yolk. But you had to sustain it in a colloid substance, the white, for it to be perfectly stable. That was pure energy. It would sustain the soul within, and it shall aid it with power later on, when the horcrux was mature enough to 'hatch'.
The house elf will be sustained by Bertha, while I take over Barty Crouch, Junior. I just hope his years in Azkaban had not addled his brain so far. If it were so, I would have to take over the soul.
Take over, with all implications of the phrase.
He woke up. Yet again. His periods of awakening had come more frequently, or so he felt. As his ration for the day hovered outside, he was truely surprised at the visitor. "Oh, my, how much have you changed!" His tone implied the humour of the moment, which was just a repeat of what the man in front had said after his dearest was lost. Lost forever to the greatest adventure, and more.
Actually, the 'dearest' part was only after he had managed to take it away. He smirked. The man was obviously irritated, and he knew it was in his nature to see the past, multiple times, and then make his decisions. He was wise, there was no doubt to that. The prisoner showed a long pointed nail at the man. He frowned, as the man wandlessly converted the nail to a blade. The visitor's hands were trickling down his sleeve, in need of the stolen wand. The prisoner smirked, and shaved off his beard with the knife, leaving a short tip just in front of his mental symphysis. He took some water off the tub near him, and washed his face. He next trimmed his moustache with his fingers, as they but down the greying bits, without even feeling the need to transform into scissors visually for the function. They did their work, and that was enough. "You have always asked me that question when you saw me. 'Who killed her'." The prisoner grinned, turning back to face him, with a change in his stride. "You had feared meeting me for so long, one would have thought you, afraid. Using memory charms was never your style, Albus."
With the lack of expression on Dumbledore's face, the prisoner continued." I ask you the same question, back again. "Who. Did. It?" He smiled, expecting the outrage he would receive.
He got none. Instead, with a cheerful chuckle from his opponent, Gellert's face fell in misery, as he realised what Dumbledore had procured. The only way to bring her back.
The answer. Dumbledore had the stone.
Fleur Delacour was not having plans on watching someone play the Triwizard tournament. She was going to make everyone see her do it. And win it. She had been the first in her studies, and had gotten through every single torment that came at her, calling themselves boyfriends. They were never up to the mark, and had only fallen over on her beauty. She was looking up, as the class in Arithmancy began. She solved the first problem put up by the old ghost. She had heard that there was only one another ghost that taught a class in the entire world. She looked forward to the month of December, when the Triwizard tournament was scheduled to be started off with the Yule Ball soon enough.
The tent smelled of cats. Too much of cats. Harry was amazed at the size of the tent, and took to the one facing the corner. Though had insisted on doing everything the 'Muggle' way, Bill and Charlie used simple incendiary charms for the fire. They then started to stress upon how they had done it the usual way, and they had the support of the twins.
Resigned, was going on, chatting with Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman and somebody else, while introducing them to his family and Harry.
Hermione had gone to fetch some water out of a nearby tap, as Obliviators had started their rounds, telling off the families that did not mind the secrecy that they were supposed to maintain. After a glance at the queue, she just walked closer, bypassing the line, to the other side, toward the side of the lavatories. After finding a space between the stands and the border of the campsite, she filled her bucket with an Aguamenti, a sixth year spell as per the old rules, and started to make her way back to the tent. She spotted Luna Lovegood at an odd looking tent, with a man with similar hair who seemed to be her father. She avoided her glance, and Luna had fortunately minded her own business, poking the grass with a stick tied to the end of her wand.
Harry called Hermione over, and she caught a bit of the conversation that followed. "Barty, you were needed yesterday. Where were you, huh? That Bulgarian minister was not getting a word that we spoke-" "I was under the impression that he was fluent in many languages. We never actually talked in English, but one might think a man at such a position would know..."
"He didn't. That's what I said. We tried out many gestures and got him to understand, but nothing he spoke was legible, you know what I mean."
"Oh, Hermione," said Arthur. "Just go to the stands and buy some of whatever you want. Harry, I think Bill had your gold. He took it out himself, because there were too many transactions at the moment. We have an important matter to discuss."
As they turned, Arthur passed on a galleon to Harry, and said "Just give this to Ron, will you? Thanks."
"What do you think they are going to discuss, mmm?
"Siri-Snuffles mentioned something about the Triwizard tournament being scheduled for the year"
"Ooh, really? That sounds cool. At least we won't have the boring Quidditch matches-" she broke off, while Harry just pretended she hadn't said that. "So what do they do in it, huh?" "I don't know, Harry. There are supposed to be three tasks, each one more difficult than its predecessor. The final task will be something that will end once the champion touches the Triwizard Cup. That player gets a thousand Galleons and eternal glory." She said the 'eternal glory' part as if she was a narrator of some high fantasy storyline. Harry laughed, and they went along, calling Ron from their campfire, while he was holding a bar of Chocolate. "I don't know how muggles eat chocolate like this. It is hard to see why they would make something as fun as a chocolate into such a... boring form. Seriously, squares and rectangles? Please."
Harry spotted the sellers, with an assortment of various contraptions, all of which were eye catching. He realised he had forgotten about the bag of money, and hastily went back to their tent to find Bill. While he returned, he spotted Oliver Wood, who had graduated from Hogwarts and had been welcomed warmly into some famous Quidditch team. Harry and Wood discussed the semi final match. The Feinting techniques of Krum were so awesome, you cannot stop talking about them with any man who knew his Quidditch.
Harry walked off, telling Wood that Ron would be waiting for him. As he went forward, he heard some shouting. After crossing a shrub, he found them. And the source of the commotion.
Draco Malfoy.
Lucius had never expected any greater insult to power than the proof in front of him. Arthur Weasley. With his family. In the TopBox, with the VIPs. He stared, and got a venomously cheerful smile from the weasel. He just turned his head. He had noticed that the younger son was absent.
He looked at his side. Narcissa was yet to come. With Draco. They had gone to the camp site where Cissa had called Severus, who had contacted her for a brief session with Draco. There was no reason, but Severus had only gotten a seat on the second class. He had asked specifically for it. He had claimed that a good match would have a treat to his eyes, after so many stupid matches at Hogwarts. Severus had experience as an appreciator for Quidditch, taking the post of Quidditch referee whenever the person, who Lucius remembered as a woman, no more, at Hogwarts was unable to fulfill her duties. He saw Severus' mop of greasy hair on another side, taking his seat. Lucius waved, and gestured 'where?' Severus replied with a frown and a look around, and then chose to come to the back of the stands, where a circular looping construct had been structured, to ascend from level to level. Lucius stood, and entered, as Severus billowed upwards towards him. "They left when I did." He gave a questioning frown. "I do not know-" he trailed, as Harry Potter and the Granger girl ran up and suddenly stopped, and stood in front of the professor. "Oh, Sir!" The girl said, while Potter caught his breath. They just stepped to the side, and entered the Box. Severus looked through the bend, and exclaimed "I believe Draco has some explaining to do."
Narcissa came along the planks, holding Draco by the hand, while the youngest son of the weasel came through, holding a bag. Narcissa cut short whatever Severus was going to ask, and just told "The match is about to start. The displays of their mascots would be beginning. Why are you standing out, come in, now." And she just went in. Lucius shrugged at Severus, and entered the Box.
"You had the bag!" "No I didn't, it was Ron." "No, it was you, I saw you pick the bag up when Ron fell on Malfo- Whoa... wow. What?!" The fireworks started, and Charlie had thumped him on the head to stay quiet. The cabin was staring at him now. Everyone's gaze went back to the fireworks, which came up with rolling Dragons, and fire breathing goats. Harry looked up at them, and he heard a shuffle to the row on his right. He turned, and saw Ron getting into his seat, and say "Got the bag."
Actially, they had run into Malfoy at the stores. He had been late enough when he came, and they had started thumping Malfoy while he screamed. He later learned that Malfoy had just been trying to pull out a hat from a rack, while he saw Hermione come through. As soon as she entered, he had been caught with a not-so-wise crack about her blood, and it had been by then that Ron had kicked him at the knee from the back. His mother had screamed, and Ron and Malfoy had been forcibly 'evacuated' from the store, while Hermione bought the thing she for all three of them. As soon as she came out, Malfoy had sweared into her face and that earned him another kick, now to the back, as another Ron v Malfoy match started. Harry had seen this, and tried to intervene, resulting with Ron getting a punch to the face while Harry pulled him away. Ron had shaken him off, and as he entered the fray, only to be stunned by a ministry employee with a comic female costume. The man took them all under custody, and told them off. It was good that the match was about to start in a few minutes. The man was prompted to let them as he himself had to catch the match. They all had ran up, and Ron had remembered the bag.
"You see, it is with extreme precision that you kick the opponent. I knew that if I hurt his face, he would have bled, and I would have been in a sticky situation, wouldn't I? Not that I would have wanted Malfoy blood in my hands, it's too pure to handle." Ron bragged, while Malfoy glanced venomously. He would have bit them if he weren't held by his Mother's hand. The fireworks ended, and galleons that had floated at first, had flooded the entire box, dousing them all with Gold.
The Bulgarian team had brought in Veela, by which they meant extremely beautiful women. Beautiful, as in you would plan on dying to make one your bride. Harry leaned over on the seat, as did so many others. The Veela looked up at the top boxes, and Harry thought about how he could just fall over the railing, fly in circles around her, and in the end, float down the sky, while his wings folded elegantly, his lips upon hers...
He then was thrown on the seat, which was soft, and felt a slap on his cheek, which was looked at him, and slapped again. "What! Cut it out 'Mione!" He realised his wings didn't fold elegantly. And that he didn't have wings. He was suddenly afraid of the height.
"Who the heck is drooling over us? Idiots! Top box, we ain't sitting below ye for ye to spit on us! Show some respect, you... !"
The funniest part was that Fudge was wiping off his mouth, with a creeping blush on his face.
And then the players came.
...
