Around midday, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves cooking sausage over a campfire with Mr. Weasley. They had set up two tents that looked inconspicuous on the outside. On the inside, however, they were almost as big as a house with several bedrooms and a kitchen.

The three friends listened politely as Mr. Weasley pointed out each person who passed by. From the Unspeakables working in the Department of Mysteries to the apparent "man of the hour" Ludo Bagman. Who, upon mention of his name, appeared out of nowhere.

"Ludo!"

"Arthur!"

"You seem very pleased with yourself this afternoon, Ludo." Mr. Weasley joked.

"I AM very pleased, Arthur. You do not even know how close we came to catastrophe today."

"Really?" Arthur Weasley looked puzzled. "How so?"

"Let's just say, you may not see all familiar faces on the Quidditch Pitch tonight." Bagman said slyly. He glanced at his watch. "But, I'd better inform the Minister of these new...developments. He'd have my head if it were a surprise tonight." With a conspiratorial wink, he Disapparated.

Harry glanced at his friends, hoping they understood more than he did. Hermione looked thoughtful, whereas Ron looked furious.

"What on earth was he implying? Are they changing Quidditch teams on us?"

"Nothing so drastic, Ronald." She said exasperatedly. "He only meant there were going to be substitutions. Probably only one substitution at that."

"But...but...how would they substitute a player? Who are they going to substitute?"

"I don't have all the answers! You are just going to have to wait until tonight like the rest of us!" Hermione huffed.

"Why don't we walk around?" Harry suggested. "We're bound to find people that we know. Plus, we can buy souvenirs."

Ron's face brightened, and within moments all traces of his previous anger vanished. Hermione sent a grateful look at Harry, and together they set out to explore.

A few hours and a few Galleons later, the Golden Trio arrived back at the tents.

"Harry! Thank goodness we found you three! It's getting late. We need to get to our seats." Mr. Weasley said.

"Where are our seats, Dad?" Piped Ron.

"Um, well," Mr. Weasley glanced down at the tickets in his hand. "I think they are in the top box-with the Minister of Magic."

Around him jaws dropped.

"No way!"

"That is too-"

"Freaking awesome-"

"For words!"

Fred and George Weasley finished their sentence with a grin.

"Hm. I'm glad you approve." Arthur Weasley responded dryly with a raise if his eyebrow.

The group followed Mr. Weasley through the campground, around the mob surrounding the souvenirs, and up the stairs to their box in the stadium. Harry slid into his seat behind Ron who was in deep conversation with Ginny, their trek up the stairs having rekindled curiosity about the mysterious substitute. Behind him, through the conversation between the British and Bulgarian Ministers of Magic, Harry heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"Potter. Weasel. How did you get up here? I can't imagine you getting a ticket. Did you miscount the stairs?" Draco Malfoy sneered.

"Just leave him." Harry whispered to his friend. "He's a git, but not worth it." Harry turned back to send a warning glare to Malfoy when he saw a small creature with big ears and a dirty pillowcase that had its head buried in its hands.

"Dobby?"

"Dobby, sir? Is you calling me Dobby?" The house elf whimpered.

Harry quickly looked back at Malfoy who did not seem to have heard them.

"Sorry. I mistook you for someone else. I don't know a whole lot of house elves, and you just look like-"

"I knows Dobby, sir," the house elf squeaked excitedly. "I is called Winky, sir. I knows Dobby. He talks all the time of you, Harry Potter. But Dobby is being a bad elf. He is taking his freedom to his head, sir. It is not right for a house elf!"

Harry notices the empty seat beside Winky.

"Are you here with someone, Winky?" he asked politely.

Winky looked terrified. "I is saving a seat for my master. Master Crouch told Winky to stay up here. Winky does not like heights, but Winky obeys."

Harry was about to reply when Ron nudged him.

"It's about to start, Harry. Look at Bagman!"

Harry did look at Bagman. The man in question had stepped forward and put his wand to his throat and whispered Sonorus.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The eruption of cheers throughout the stadium was deafening.

"Now, I'd like you all to give a big welcome...to the Bulgarian team mascots!"

"Mascots? What are the mascots going to be?" Harry questioned.

"They're usually magical creatures from their country of origin...of course. Veela!" Mr. Weasley answered with smile.

Harry turned his gaze to the stadium where a mass of beautiful dancing women captured the attention of every male in attendance. They are so pretty. I think...I think they're waving me over! I have to go...

"Harry!" Hermione's voice cut through the fog of his mind. Startled, Harry glanced down to see that his legs were straddled over the side of the box. Had the Veela continued to dance, Harry and many others (including a very embarrassed looking Draco Malfoy) would have fallen off out of the stands (disregarding the charms to keep the spectators safe, of course).

"Well, that was...a wonderful performance by the Bulgarian mascots. Now please give a warm welcome to the mascots of Ireland!" Bagman's voice boomed across the stadium as a cloud of green erupted a few hundred feet in the air. Using the Omnioculars he had purchased earlier in the day, Harry zoomed into the cloud. He was greeted with the image of green clad men dancing in the air and throwing gold coins out at the spectators. The audience roared as they scrambled over each other to retrieve the Leprechaun gold.

The shower of gold eventually ceased, and Harry heard Ludo Bagman call for attention.

"It is about time for the match to begin, so without further ado, the Bulgarian National Quidditch team! Presenting- Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulkanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaaaand Krum!" Seven red robed players streaked onto the field in a blur. Beside him, Ron was going crazy.

"It's Krum! Viktor Krum! He is just about, no he IS the best Seeker in the world!"

After a few moments, Bagman continued. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, due to unforeseen circumstances, Stephen Moran will not be able to join his teammates tonight, so we have had a substitution." Ron elbowed Harry and have him a frantic look which Harry waved off. "So, I would like to present- the Irish National Quidditch team! Please welcome Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Emerson! Quigley! Aaaaaaand Lynch!"

At this point the seven green robed players joined their counterparts on the Quidditch field. There was some muttering in the stands about the unfamiliar name. Emerson. The Bulgarian fans dismissed it, thinking it would only help their team to have their opponents hindered by a newcomer. The Irish fans were worried for the same reason.

"Also, we have our referee-from Egypt no less- the Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

The referee walked out onto the field carrying a long box that held the balls. With a flick of his wand, the box opened and the game began.

Harry was stunned by the sheer speed of it. He was barely able to keep his eye on the Quaffle, and was only half listening to Bagman's commentary.

"Mullet! Troy! Emerson! Dimitrov- and Emerson steals the Quaffle back! Back to Troy! Emerson! Mullet!" And so it continued. The one part of the commentary that Harry did notice was that the name 'Emerson' cropped up more than any of the other Chasers. Who is this guy? He wondered. This thought triggered a memory.

"Who the bloody he** are you?"

Ron's angry face, and the reply.

"My name is Milo Emerson."

So that mysterious kid from the Portkey is the substitute Irish Chaser?! What?! And he's our age. Harry's thoughts trailed off in awe. Though he had great respect for Krum who was the youngest professional Seeker, it was nothing compared to this Milo Emerson. A fourteen year old stranger who plays better than the best Chasers in the world!

The Irish team began scoring goals and everyone in the stadium quickly came to the conclusion that Bulgaria never had a chance. Emerson's addition had invigorated the Irish team. The Beaters were unstoppable, the Keeper unyielding, and the Chasers meshed together so well that the Bulgarians barely even touched the Quaffle. Despite Krum's impressive Wronski Feint and Lynch's incapacitation, the Irish team was over a hundred and fifty points ahead by the time Krum caught the Snitch, guaranteeing the Irish victory.

"It was brave of him to catch the Snitch now." Harry said to Ron. "Even though he knew they would lose." Ron could only mutely nod as he stared in awe at the Irish substitute.

"But-how-he-wow."

On his other side, Hermione looked calculatingly at the Irish team. Harry could see the gears whir in her head as she pieced together the truth (or what little truth they knew) about Milo Emerson.

A few seconds later, their box became very crowded as the Bulgarian team came entered. They were cheered by the crowd for their great effort. When the Irish team entered, however, the crowd was truly deafening. All of the players were grinning from ear to ear as they held up the coveted Quidditch Cup. Then they all banded together to lift Mr. Milo I'm-freaking-spectacular-at-Quidditch Emerson onto their shoulders.

Milo glanced over at the Weasley's group, caught Harry's eye, and smiled.

Harry returned the smile with his own. He was so happy that wasn't him up there. Now this kid knew what it felt like as well-to be praised by tons of people you have never and probably will never meet in your life.

After congratulating both teams and officially ending the game, Ludo Bagman turned around to pay the twins their money. Harry had no idea how Fred and George could have predicted that outcome, he figured that however it was, they definitely earned it.

When the commotion died down, Harry followed the Weasleys off the field and back to the tent. The twins were arguing with Ron about who was the better Quidditch Player in that game. The twins insisted it was the new guy, Emerson, while Ron (though impressed by Emerson) still believed Krum to be better.

"It's amazing that the kid we saw this morning is really a Quidditch player. I think I'll ask him about it in September. He must have some really good stories." Ginny interrupted their squabble with an air of nonchalance. Ron, who was probably the only one of the group who had not made the connection, was even more dumbstruck than he had been at the end if the match.

"Wait, wait, wait. That was Milo Emerson?!" He paled. "He's going to hate me! After what I said!"

Ron then turned to the twins who were fighting to keep their faces straight. "You guys are right. He is much better than Krum. I mean, he's four years younger!"

The discussion was interrupted again by loud bangs and Mr. Weasley rushed into the tent.

"Everyone outside. Come on! It's not safe here. The campground is being attacked!"

A/N

Just wanted to thank my brother who let me look up some things in the fourth book while he was reading it. Thanks buddy!

Also, I know I switched around a few events (making them happen earlier etc.). Yes it was on purpose. Not necessarily for some master plan, but on purpose.

Thanks for reading!