When the lights around the stadium dimmed, indicating it was only a few moments until match time, a roar of cheers seemed to shake the ground as the flashes of thousands of cameras shone all around. Then a spotlight appeared opposite to where the Storm Hawks and Starling were sat, illuminating a large boxed row of seats where a man dressed a smart suit and bowler hat stood up and pressed his wand against his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" He called out, his voice magnified so it could be heard by everyone in the stadium by the means of whatever spell he was using.

"Minister of Magic" Ace quickly explained to everyone, recognising the man in charge of the Ministry where Amos and Lucius worked, as the Minister introduced himself and some of the Sky Knight council members that had been invited.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome the Durmstrang National Quidditch Team!" The Minister announced as several scarlet-clad figures on sleek and roaring skimmers, moving so fast they became blurred at times, swooped in from overhead and lapped the stadium in a tight formation, to wild applause from the Durmstrang supporters. "I give you Dimitrov, Zograf, Levski, Vulchanov, Volkov and Viktor!" The Minister called out the players names. One of the Durmstrang team then broke off and began performing incredible aerobatics and tricks as scarlet fireworks began launching in the sky above.
"Which one is that?" Starling asked, impressed by the player's ability, as she looked through her binoculars.
"That is the best seeker in Atmos, Viktor!" Finn replied, cheering out the last part with delight at seeing the famous athlete, a feeling shared by the majority of the crowd who were now chanting his name. From what Aerrow could see in through his own binoculars, Viktor was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now the Atmosian National Team!" The Minister yelled as another seven skimmers flew into the stadium, their riders dressed in sky blue. "Presenting Gale, Ryan, Troy, Thresh, Moran, Senna and Atala!" He said as he named the team. "And here, all the way from Terra Rex, our referee, acclaimed Chairman of the International Association of Quidditch, Haymitch!" The Minister then introduced as a small and skinny man, completely bald but with a large moustache, wearing clothes of pure gold to match the stadium, rode out onto the centre of pitch on his own skimmer. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm which he then opened. Four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Haymitch launched his skimmer into the air after the balls.
"They're off!" Screamed another man's voice, the match's commentator who was also projecting his voice magically around the stadium from the same stand as the Minister of Magic. "And it's Gale, Troy, Moran, Dimitrov, back to Mullet, Troy, Levski, Moran!" He called out as the Quaffle passed between the players.
It was Quidditch as none of the Storm Hawks or Starling had ever seen before. The speed of the players was incredible, the chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that the commentator only had time to say their names. As the three Atmosian chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the centre, slightly ahead of Gale and Moran, bearing down upon the Durmstrangs, Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Durmstrang chaser Dimitrov and dropped the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Durmstrang 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; luckily Gale, soaring beneath, caught it. "Gale scores!" The Commentator roared after Gale had thrown the ball through one of the hoops as the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Atmosia!" He shouted.

Aerrow knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Atmosian 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 within ten minutes, Atmosia had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the blue-clad supporters. The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Durmstrang beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Atmosian chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Dimitrov managed to break through their ranks; dodge the keeper, Ryan; and score Durmstrang's first goal. After which Durmstrang kept possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! - oh I say!" The commentator suddenly said. Thousands of spectators gasped as the two seekers, Viktor and Senna, plummeted through the centre of the chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from their skimmers without parachutes. Aerrow followed their descent through his binoculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was.
"They're going to crash!" Piper called out, next to Aerrow. She was half right, at the very last second, Viktor pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Senna, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium along with the sound of crunching metal as the front of his skimmer crumpled. A huge groan rose from the Atmosian seats.

"Unbelievable, Viktor was only feinting!" Starling said, the snitch having been no where near the two seekers.

"It's time-out!" The commentator announced as trained medics hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch.

"It's what Viktor was after, gives him time to look for the snitch without interference" Aerrow said, watch Viktor looking around the stadium for the small ball.

Senna was quickly revived and seemed able to play on as a new skimmer was brought out onto the pitch, allowing him to rejoin the game a few moments later. His revival seemed to give Atmosia new heart. When Haymitch blew his whistle again, the chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything Aerrow had seen so far.
After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Atmosia 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 Troy shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Durmstrang keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Aerrow didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Atmosian crowd, and Haymitch's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.
"And Haymitch takes the Durmstrang keeper to task for cobbing, excessive use of elbows!" The commentator informed the roaring spectators. "And, yes, it's a penalty to Atmosia!" He added, seeing Haymitch make his decision. Troy easily put away the penalty, bringing the score up to one hundred and forty points to ten.

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 player as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her skimmer.
"Foul!" Roared the Atmosian supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of blue.
"Foul!" The commentator echoed. "Dimitrov skins Moran, deliberately flying to collide there, and it's got to be another penalty, yes, there's the whistle!" He said as Haymitch intervened between the players. Again the Atmosian chaser easily scored before play commenced again. But then every single eye in the stadium turned from the chasers to the two seekers, who had once again dived.

"Is Viktor they faking again?" Junko asked as they watched.

"No they've seen it" Finn called, seeing the determined and focused faces of both players. Senna had been ahead but Viktor was soon right on his tail, drawing level, the pair hurtled towards the ground again.

"They're going to crash again" Stork guessed, the scene in front of them all too familiar.

"No they're not" Finn said, more so from his admiration of Viktor.

"Senna is" Aerrow added. And he was right as, for the second time, Senna hit the ground with tremendous force, destroying his second skimmer that match.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Starling asked.

"He's got it, Viktor's got it, it's all over!" Ace replied. Viktor was hovering steadily in the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. For a moment no one seemed to know what had fully happened but then those who had been keeping score realised who had won. The Atmosian supporters exploded with cheers and celebrations, nearly drowning out the official announcement.

"Atmosia wins, one hundred and seventy to one hundred and sixty!" The commentator shouted, who like the Atmosian's, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match "Viktor gets the snitch but Atmosia wins, goodness, I don't think any of us were expecting that!" He added.
"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron asked, applauding all the same. "He ended it when Atmosia were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!" He scalded, having hoped Viktor would have won.
"He knew they were never going to catch up" Aerrow called back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Atmosian chasers were too good...He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all..." He said, understanding the feeling.
"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Piper said, leaning forward to watch Viktor land along with his somewhat disgruntled team mates whilst the Atmosian team flew overhead, still celebrating. Eventually, however, they too landed as both teams disappeared into the stadium, no doubt to their changing rooms, before the Atmosian team re-emerged in the Minister of Magic's box where they were presented with the Quiddich World Cup. The Atmosian fans roared once more as their victorious team lifted the golden cup up high for all to see.

The Storm Hawks and Starling were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their camp sites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path. When they finally reached the tent, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, none of them decided it was worth trying to do so, for a while at least. So instead they began arguing enjoyably about the match.

"There's no one like Viktor, he's like a bird the way he flies" Finn defended at one point.

"He's just a Quiddich player Finn" Piper reminded him.

"He's more than an athlete, he's an artist" Finn insisted. "I can't wait to try out some of his moves" He added.

"Are you sure that's a good idea with your track record?" Junko asked, causing everyone else to look amused by something.

"What do you mean?" Finn replied, looking confused.

"He means your stunt flying never ends well" Aerrow told him. "Remember last month when you overheated you engine performing tricks and had to crash land on the Condor's runway?" He said.

"Yeah, well, that was before I saw Viktor's flying, I can learn a lot from it" Finn shrugged off.

"Flying in a Quiddich game and flying in combat are two very different things" Starling said.

"Not for Viktor, it's all the same for him" Finn replied, still maintaining his idolisation of the player.

"I think your in love Finn" Piper said, everyone but Finn, who couldn't come up with a response, laughing at this as the subject was dropped. From the other side of the camp site they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

"Are they ever going to stop?" Stork asked, indicating his head to the tent's flaps.

"Not likely, Atmosia will be celebrating and Durmstrang will be wanting to match them out of pride" Ace said, trying to hold back a large yawn, without success.

"Well I don't think we can wait for them to finish, we best got some sleep" Aerrow said, also finding himself very tired. Met with agreement they all soon got ready for bed and clambered into their bunk beds. Despite the continuance of the singing from the celebrating crowds and the occasional bang and blasts of light from small fireworks being let off, just visible through the canvas roof, everyone soon drifted off into a much needed sleep.