August 20th, 2003
The table had splintered in Harry's metal hand, and everyone's eyes were on him as he stared at the girl Sirius had brought with him.
Of course she had come. She and Sirius were some of the few good eggs in a rotten family, and it wasn't surprising that she would like a game that brought people out of their shells to the point that they screamed in excitement and shouted taunts at the top of their lungs.
But he hadn't considered… anything. His parents were alive. Sirius and Remus were alive. Dumbledore was alive. But he hadn't even thought that she might have been alive.
Everyone looked concerned, but Harry would later remember the look of absolute panic on Sirius' face as he stared silently at the pair. It would be at the same time as Harry realised that the boy on his hip must have been Sirius' son, though nobody ever mentioned a wife. He would be confused by the fear, and then the reason would occur to him; Sirius was terrified that Harry was looking his way like that for a reason far different to the actual one. Sirius Black had always detested his family, and in this moment feared that in Harry's world he had been like them.
Harry stared at her, and her hair turned blue as she looked back nervously. Harry saw her heart-shaped face, pale skin obvious with the dark blue of her shoulder-length hair. He let the wooden mulch in his clenched hand fall to the floor as her eyes flickered between sapphire blue and emerald green as she looked back into Harry's own. How long he stared, Harry had no idea, all he knew was that the image of her, in an ireland jersey with a flag in hand, was burned into his eyelids for months after. She was older than when he'd known… not her. Three or four years, if he had to guess. Still older than him by two or three, as though she had aged with him. He broke out of the daze when she shifted, and he spoke in a voice softer than had escaped his lips since he spoke to her grave.
'Nymphadora…'
'Hullo,' she said, nervous but trying to be chirpy to break the tension, 'you must be Harry.'
And there it was. She didn't know him. Had Nymphadora's face, but not her memories. Was Nymphadora, but not his Nymphadora.
'I'll go get some wood to mend this,' Harry was halfway through the door, not the one in which they stood, when he spoke. It seemed to let people know he had risen to his feet and covered the distance in three quick strides, and he heard someone say something in an attempt to get his attention. Harry didn't hear the words themselves, just the voice. His hand tore the handle from the door as he strode into the garden, and Harry broke into a run for the woodlands he had appeared in months before.
-()-
'What'd I do?' Tonks asked, confused and concerned about the stranger's odd behaviour. She didn't even think she'd stared at him that much, thanks to Sirius' warning about the boy's injuries and odd method of healing, but the boy had looked at her like she'd stuck a knife in his heart.
'You didn't do anything, Tonks,' James assured her, his wand pointing at the table from his place in the just-used doorway as the broken piece of furniture mended itself, 'I don't know what that was about, but whatever it is it didn't happen in this world.'
Tonks blinked at him, Sirius had said something about dimension travel, but she'd figured he must have been joking. Even with the serious expression and tone. They just made her more likely to believe him and make a fool out of herself in front of the new guy.
The new guy. She couldn't tell how old he was. A teenager, but one missing a third of his face; that made it kind of tricky to place his exact age. Between Amaryllis' and hers, Nymphadora guessed. In a way, he was quite handsome; a strange way, admittedly, but he still had the looks if one went for metal-faced men. Not that Tonks would go for him. No-sir, he'd been looking at her like he was already planning who he would order her to be.
Fucking Cedric Diggory. She should have cut his cock and balls off, not just kicked him there, for the reputation he stuck her with. They'd kissed in second year, and the boy had spread it around the school that she'd turned into Sinistra and screwed him in a Broom Closet. WHICH WAS NOT TRUE. No matter how often she denied it, Cedric insisted it was what happened for years after. By the time he'd gotten his ego into control a bit, others had started jumping on the bandwagon. Now, she had the reputation of being Hogwarts' resident submissive slut. Each time someone came up to her and demanded that she change into this celebrity or this teacher or this girl or boy, she would kick the arrogant sod between his or her legs.
The next day, he'd be telling everyone who'd listen how she'd spread her legs for him. And none of the nice guys would touch her with a ten-foot pole! They all thought she'd give them something, so Tonks was stuck with three choices. Either fuck an arse, not in that way, go without company until the end of Seventh Year, or turn gay. Any guy she could find in the summer would just want a fling, and would be as big of an arse for it. And she'd tried to go gay, but it didn't do it for her. Plus, snogging a pretty lesbian from the year below hadn't done anything to help with the whole "slut" image.
Tonks didn't like the choice she'd been left with, but at least she was magical and a metamorphmagi. Her alone time was hardly dull, even if another participant would have made it better. And she only had two years left 'til school was out for good. She could cope. Although she was starting to get worryingly aroused by the sight of her own reflection.
But, yeah. The new guy was weird. She wondered what the other version of her had done to him, and cursed that version of her if she'd been dumb enough to actually do what he told her and turn into Jessica Simpson, or some shit.
Where'd he gone anyway? And had James followed? Tonks felt concerned, she really did, but was pretty sure going after him would be a bad idea on her part. On the up-side, she only tripped once when she went to sit besides Amaryllis to catch up with her and Hermione.
-()-
Harry sat in a what could be described as a clearing. Of course, clearings usually had a clear patch of land and not felled trees and new stumps with the occasional standing tree that had a fist-sized hole in it.
'Wow. You were being serious about getting some wood, then,' James chuckled at the end of it, making Harry wonder if the strange innuendo had been intentional, 'although I'm pretty sure you knew we could just wave our wands and it'd all be right again.'
Harry didn't respond, from his place sat on a clean-cut stump. He couldn't remember whether this one had been a spell or blade.
'I got the door, too,' James felt the need to say, as he cast a spell on another stump, this one having been broken by blunt force, and the top smoothed out. He sat down, and continued, 'I don't suppose anyone's mentioned how I wooed Lily, have they?'
Harry didn't answer.
'No, of course not,' James said, 'but I think it could help. I've never had anyone to share my womanly wisdom with before now,' he said, almost excited, 'and don't listen to Sirius. I definitely know what I'm talking about. The way I got Lily, though, shows that love isn't a sprint. It's a marathon.
'You see, I saw her for the first time in First Year. I fell for her, hard, from that moment, but it was just the crush of an immature little brat. She looked at me like I was dirt, but I didn't let it get me down. I played jokes on her and called her names, even pulled her hair once, and, of course, that didn't work. She pretended to hate me then but, honestly, I think she fancied me back at least a little. It's probably a good thing nothing happened at that age, since there's no way she would've stayed with me when I became an even bigger ponce. We would've broken up, and we wouldn't have gotten married and had kids.
'But that doesn't mean I like the next tactic I used. I usually say that I was trying to make her jealous, but truth be told I was hurt by the fact that she ignored me. I wanted to get rid of the feelings, so I took Sirius' advice and started screwing everything in a skirt. We even made a game of seeing who could get the most notches. It took a good long time, not 'til Christmas of Fifth Year, and my parents dying for me to stop that. By then, your- uh, Lily had grown into a really beautiful woman. She'd even dated Remus for a little bit, until it became evident that he was a Marauder through and through. I fell for her harder than ever when I pulled my head out of my arse. Stopped treating her like she was just another notch.
'Of course, she hated me by then. To the point that she actually wanted to do me harm, and on more than one occasion did; she'd liked me, and I just turned around and shagged more than half the girls in our year and the ones one below and above. I remember I walked in on her crying at one point during that stretch, but just ignored it like the prat I was. I apologised, and asked her out. She told me to fuck off. I tried again and again and then stopped apologising and making it out like I was telling a joke.
'It fucking hurt, I'll tell you that. She seemed repulsed, and I didn't know what to do to change her opinion of me. That didn't happen 'til Seventh Year, when we were Head Boy and Girl, but I think the incessant badgering let her know I really liked her and that I was being serious. Or, who knows, it might have been the fact that I Jinxed every bloke who came within two meters of her. Anyway, when we sat down in the Head's Carriage, with her glaring daggers at me, I told her that I'd ask her out once a month and that I'd leave her alone apart from that if she wanted me to. I said that I'd stay out of her way if she decided to date other guys but, by that point, even she wasn't getting guys brave enough to ask on pain of having the Marauders adjust their sights to solely rest on them.
'When she saw I was mature, though I still pranked- it is in my blood- and took the job seriously, Lily gave me a chance. And we've been together ever since.' James finished, looking at Harry as Harry looked back with confusion.
'I'm sorry, what are you trying to tell me?' he asked.
'I get what you're going through. I don't know what happened between you and your world's Tonks, but you clearly are interested in her. Just be upfront and honest, and there's every chance she'll say yes. You look… different, obviously, but Tonks gets what it's like to be different like that. She's a metamorphmagus and, even if it's an incredible gift, people judge her heavily because of it. Some of them hate the fact that she can become them with a thought, others because she's a Half-Blood with what they consider a Pureblood gift.'
'That's not what I'm going through,' Harry told him, and then continued while wondering why he was, 'I was in love with Nymphadora, and I think she was in love with me. She didn't scorn me, or break my heart in any way that was either of our faults. She died, I buried her. I moved past it as best as I could. And now I know that there's a girl in this world who's wearing her face. Or one of her faces.
'I miss her.' Harry finished, simply.
James said, 'Oh,' and the conversation died. They sat silently for a few hours.
At lunchtime they made their way back towards the house. Harry's trunk still had all his things inside, so his packing was just a matter of picking it up and coming back downstairs. But they hadn't counted on that, and evidently Nymphadora had asked James for an explanation. Sirius stood next to her.
'I died?!' Tonks kept her voice quiet, in a whisper-shout, but it reached Harry's werewolf ears. The two words only conveyed surprise, though, and she was facing away from Harry so his magical eye couldn't pick up anything of her expression.
'Fucking Hell…' Sirius ran a hand through his hair, longer than Harry had ever seen it because he could afford to have it long in a peaceful and happy world, and Harry could see the emotion on his face more than hear it in his voice. Even so, it wasn't an easy mix to discern. Sirius looked angry, sad and sympathetic in equal measures as he stared up at the wall between Harry and himself.
'So we were…' Nymphadora made a gesture of interlocking her fingers, and James nodded, '... and I...' she brought a finger across her throat. Another nod. '...Fuck.' She glanced in Harry's direction, as well, and her expression was sadder than Harry had seen her in his last life. Even while she died, she'd been smiling at him, doing her best to stop his anger and sadness as he held her. She felt sorry for him, now; Harry wondered if James had told her anything else.
'I just thought you should know. I'm sure he doesn't want to offend you, but if he manages to be around you I think it'll be nothing short of a miracle.'
Tonks nodded, and was silent as Sirius spoke. 'Other than that, how's he doing?' he asked. Harry saw the boy who he'd been holding sat on Amaryllis' knee as they read a book. She, her sisters, and Hermione were pretending not to listen. But the room wasn't that large, more comfortable and cozy, and none of them were speaking.
'Very well, actually,' James commented, bringing surprise onto Sirius' face.
Harry nodded. He agreed that he was doing well. This life was easy, and the change was… odd. Good. If unexpected. Today was an episode, but he'd been learning how to live a normal life in a living world and make sure he was as close to happy as it was possible to be; a world in which there was happiness in abundance was easy. He wasn't comfortable yet, but he wasn't uncomfortable either.
When Harry made his way downstairs, a little noisier than he'd needed to be, James commented on his good timing and Lily came downstairs with her things and Mia's. Harry was a little surprised, he'd thought that the youngest would've stayed home, but it wasn't an bad thing.
They walked to a manhole cover, and Harry wondered if they couldn't have found something more inconspicuous to have in the middle of a field.
Harry laid a hand on the Portkey, along with the others, and felt a fishhook tug at his stomach. They were pulled to a large field, Harry landed on his feet and thought he caught a glimpse of something in the distance before he found something, someone, crash into him. Whoever it was grabbed ahold of him in an attempt to stay upright, and Harry found that the ground was less-than-solid as his feet shifted in the mud and he found himself on the ground on his back.
Tonks had always been clumsy, and this world's version was clearly no different.
What Harry couldn't understand, though, was how she had managed to fall over onto him quite like this. She lay across his midsection, legs tangled in the way they had evidently tripped her up, with her face in the mud. She had grabbed him, taken him down with her, and yet landed across him. How?
'Blurg,' Nymphadora said, as she rolled over to get her face out of the mud in favour of her hair, 'well, that was disgusting.' She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, attempting to not get mud in her eyes themselves, and Harry felt her other hand poke his left hand. His metal hand. Then, she stroked it, tapped it, and grabbed it, 'What in Merlin's saggy- oh…'
She leapt to her feet, tripped over her still crossed legs, and fell back down.
Onto Harry, again.
This time, she landed bum-first in his stomach. Harry let out an oof of breath, while Tonks gave an exclamation of 'OW!' as her tailbone found one of the patches of metal on Harry's midsection.
She tumbled off him, onto her front again, and rubbed her lower back. 'Bloody… fucking…' she looked at him, gave a gri, and spoke again, 'you give a whole new meaning to "abs of steel", don't ya?' Harry gave a huff of laughter, breath still missing from his lungs, and rose to his feet with some difficulty. He offered her two hands, and Tonks took both to help her get to her feet. She stared at him, as though thinking something over, and Harry quickly turned to survey the damage done to the others.
He should have predicted that James and Sirius would be leant against each other, laughing hysterically at James' daughters sprawled in the mud. Sirius' son, whose name Harry had yet to discover, was giggling next to them. The two, however, should have expected Lily's move as much as Harry should have predicted theirs. A tripping jinx sent Sirius tumbling to the ground and, without his support, James followed a moment later and landed in a heap on top of his best friend. As they groaned, the little boy laughed uproariously and was joined by Tonks and the other girls shortly thereafter. Lily's lips quirked upwards, too, but she resisted the temptation to laugh with them in favour of organising her group and leading them towards the stadium in the distance.
When they arrived, it was to be greeted by a friendly enough muggle, to whom Lily handed the appropriate amount of money and was given a map in return and directions towards their designated spot.
'I could've done it.' James whined, when they were out of the Muggle's earshot.
'Maybe, but last time we went to a muggle restaurant you gave the waiter a two-hundred pound tip.'
'He was a good waiter!'
'You gave him a 400% tip!'
They made it to the campsite shortly thereafter, and Tonks was kind enough to clean the mud off Harry's back and head, since she'd been responsible, with a subtle Scourgify. Harry had subsequently moved to the other side of their little group, not looking over at her until they were setting up the tent, and walked in silence as he lugged his trunk around. Harry wondered if it might be good to put a weightless charm, or rune once he looked at the books on that subject, on it when they went to Hogwarts instead of the weight-reduction feature that was built in. He didn't mind a little weight, but it made it more cumbersome to carry. In fact, it might be best to look into the effects of shrinking it as a whole. The issue being, Harry didn't like the idea of unshrinking every single item separately.
He was interested to see that their spot was only a stone's throw from the stadium. He wondered how drunk people would be after the game, and how late they would be singing and shouting.
When they arrived at the tent, most let out a collective groan at seeing they had to set up the tent by hand, some listened to Sirius give less-than-cohesive arguments in favour of magic, and just Sirius sat pouting when they'd all been disregarded, the eleven of them went inside after the work had been completed, and took a seat. The conversation was only brief, before James and Sirius ducked out, and then Lily showed Harry and George- Sirius' son- the boys' side of the tent.
Ten minutes later, and George was giggling like a tiny madman as Harry floated him around the room in complex patterns at an increasing speed. The complex patterns were to get in some practice at precise movements. The same couldn't be said for the speed, since it was well under half of what Harry could do, but Harry wanted to see how much the little tyke could take before giving up or vomiting.
A lot, as it turned out. When Harry decided to go out into the main section nearly an hour later, leaving his trunk in his small section that had a bed just barely big enough for him, George refused to come down. So, Harry floated him through the air and dropped him onto the comfortable chair in the lounge-area. The boy giggled as Harry summoned the Book of Spells grade 4 and took a seat nearby. Once in awhile, almost absentmindedly, Harry would levitate the boy into a somersault and then put him back down, laughing maniacally all over again.
Eventually, the female Potters and Tonks and Hermione came back out, Harry guessed they had unpacked unhurriedly, and they began talking about something that Harry tuned out. If they wanted to involve him, he would put in the effort to appear interested, but they apparently did not.
Instead, he started a new game with the kid staring at him. Harry's magical eye, or the iris, would monitor the females and, when he felt they would not notice, he hovered the boy in the air and spun him to face the table at which they sat. As one turned, Harry would let the boy fall and the girls would try to figure out why George was laughing insanely.
Eventually, George went over and sat with the others. He seemed impressed by all of them, but Mia was closest to his age and so struck him the most. Harry occasionally saw him trying to iterate his admiration, but the little man had very little knowledge of language. Harry guessed, though, that he would take after his father when he got to his teenage years; the girls fawned over his cuteness a little already.
Harry's magical eye went back to processing information, and Harry had devoured the Spell book and two runic texts that temporarily baffled him. Then, he saw that they were 2 and 3 in order of texts, and was most of the way through the first when James and Sirius returned. It was mid-afternoon, and the two gave long groans of complaint at the prospect of having to go out again in the evening.
While George climbed onto his father's head, enthusiastic and as far from shy as anyone, James ruffled through a cupboard. He let out an 'AHA!' and then Harry heard a painful thud and an 'Ow!', before climbing out of the cupboard with a grin and a box that was rattling.
'What's that, Dad?' Amaryllis asked.
'Muggle game,' James replied. Harry watched Sirius vault the back of the largest sofa, one to Harry's right, with a grin on his face, and then the man waved his wand. The area grew, seats expanding, and a large red-topped table appeared, 'no, that's for Poker, dog-brain!'
'Well, what type of table does that one have?!' Sirius asked, a grin still in place.
'It doesn't have a table!'
'Well, then, what's wrong with this one?!'
James grumbled an insult under his breath, but the group were all, soon, sat around the table listening to James explain the rules incorrectly and get corrected by Sirius, who would in turn be corrected by Lily.
Hermione thoroughly trounced them. Sirius insisted they have a rematch, then James made the demand the second time only to be reminded that they had to eat and then the two of them had to go back out. Next to Harry, Amaryllis grinned at her friend's look of pride, and the fact that Hermione was already setting up the board for another game. The two men gave strict instructions to wait until they returned, and the group still inside started conversing again.
'So, you looking forward to seeing Ronald?' Amaryllis asked her friend, with a grin. At Hermione's grimace, she burst out laughing, and Harry had to wonder if she had been drinking during the day at the amount of humour she drew from the look.
'Who's Ronald?' Lily asked, interested by the teasing.
'A ponce in our year in Gryffindor.' Hermione answered, simply.
'One who seems torn between insulting Hermione and defending her honour,' Amaryllis said, 'probably because he doesn't dare admit he fancies her.'
'Ugh.' Tonks, unexpectedly, spoke up next. 'Every year he gets into a shouting match with Malfoy across the Hall. I'm almost tempted to ask which of them is worse.'
'Malfoy.' Hermione answered, a moment later.
'Malfoy. Every time.' Amaryllis nodded firmly, 'At least Ron's just a bit of a brat. Malfoy goes about cursing people between praising his father's pull over the board.'
'Lucius Malfoy?' Harry asked, having been following the conversation.
'His ponce of a son. Draco.' Amaryllis said firmly. She didn't seem to consider why Harry had asked, or how he had known the name.
'I'm sure he's not as bad as-' Lily said quietly, and Harry ventured that it was just a token defense of the boy.
'That reminds me,' Amaryllis turned to her younger sisters, 'if he even looks at you wrong, I want to you to come find me. Okay?'
Both nodded firmly.
'That's the one good thing about it all,' Hermione commented, thoughtfully, 'some of the curses his father's taught him are horrible, but he's awful in a duel.'
Harry made a mental note of that. Lucius malfoy was a foul piece of shit, and one of the best he'd fought. Harry had defeated him the last couple of times, but never by a large enough margin to undermine the man's skill. And, before that, Malfoy had dealt him a couple of wounds that were now scars. If Draco Malfoy lacked skill, it was definitely a good thing, but if he knew some of the nastier curses his father favoured, he could kill or seriously maim someone without question. Harry still remembered how Malfoy had killed the Weasley daughter; a gruesome spell whose violence served no actual purpose. It was wasteful in power, but only dealt with one target and had done nothing to deter the other fighters. Instead, it had spurred them on.
They moved from the discussion of disliked classmates to friends, and Harry found the subject less interesting. Apparently, though, a boy named Colin was getting to the age that he might, in Tonks' words, "jizz in his pants when he next saw Amaryllis". Apparently he had an obsession with her, but none of them seemed to think he was anything approaching dangerous.
They talked about teachers, and Harry was fairly certain that was for his benefit. He learned that Snape was a piece of work, Lily had not even attempted to refute that and based on the anger that flashed across her face had wholly agreed, and that he should watch out in Potions because they always seemed to be paired with Slytherin for that subject. He was told that Mcgonagall was nice, but strict. That Flitwick was kind and pleasant but that the Slytherins had a habit of muttering about him behind the half-goblin's back. Sprout wasn't a very talented Witch, apparently, but in her chosen subject, Herbology, was a master.
Soon after that, when they were in the midsts of a debate about a woman named Sinestra and whether or not she'd gone to bed with a boy in Tonks' year named Diggory or a boy the year above called Davies or both, James and Sirius bounded back into the tent. They had gotten through their work as quickly as possible, and Harry noticed the looks of confidence as they set up the board again.
Soon, it was shown that they had discussed tactics to get a victory over the intelligent Gryffindor. When Hermione thrashed them again, Sirius let out a loud, 'Oh, come on!' and flipped the board over onto the floor. He'd then gone to pick it up with his metaphorical tail between his legs, and set it up again.
They insisted on playing three more times, lost each, and then grumpily let the others go. James blamed Sirius, Sirius blamed James, Hermione grinned widely as she headed to bed; the last three games had taken nearly six hours between them, and it was past midnight by the time they were done.
All in all, the conclusion could be reached that Hermione Granger was very good at Monopoly.
-()-
Over the course of the sunday, the day after, the campsite grew busier and busier as people arrived for Monday's match. Wizards and WItches from all over arrived, a quarter Bulgarian, a third Irish and the others mostly made of Englishmen.
Harry eventually stopped reading for a long enough time to go for a walk, wondering about the comment made to Hermione that he was even worse than her, and found that the campsite was larger than he had believed. If every tent had more than one person in it, there seemed to be a minimum of ten-thousand people sprawled across the land. The stadium would hold them, but Harry wondered whether more would arrive over the course of the day and in the morning of Monday. If they did, there might well be trouble. There were already fights breaking out between the Irish and Bulgarian fans.
He felt uneasy, hearing the clamour of wizards moving about the site. The bustle, and buzz of voices, weren't something Harry knew how to be around. He had been around hundreds of people while they were all fighting for life and limb, but never around thousands as they smiled and talked and bartered.
So, his walk didn't last long. He retreated back into the relative comfort of the tent, and George clapped as he demanded that he be levitated again. Harry wondered if the others knew of his wandless magic, it was hardly important to keep secret but he wasn't in any rush to divulge it unnecessarily, and his question was answered at least partially when Hermione Granger ambushed him and demanded he explain the ability.
It also removed his confusion at his being worse than her and Amaryllis telling him that he wouldn't enjoy trying to teach Hermione the art. She sought more understanding of the skill than Harry had, and didn't seem satisfied with any of his explanation.
That took up Harry's afternoon, and by the end he was exhausted from trying to keep up with the intelligent witch.
Tonks, through the evening, entertained George and Mia with her Metamorphmagi ability while Sirius and James desperately attempted to best Hermione in a game of Poker. They didn't manage, and complained loudly when Hermione revealed that she was somehow keeping track of what was in the deck and what was in their hands. Then, she beat them while the Marauders tried to cheat.
-()-
Another night's sleep, and another day's inactivity of reading but being unable to put his newly learned spells into practice, found Harry following the Potter clan into the stadium. Lily had chosen to stay in the tent with the two youngest, neither of whom would have been able to tolerate the screams and shouts of the crowd, and by the time they had reached the seats they would be in it sounded like Sirius almost envied her.
'Why did we have to climb up that many stairs?' he whined, as Hermione and the twins breathed a little heavily. Harry rolled his right shoulder, as Tonks nursed her sore knee. She had very nearly tumbled back down the very tall stairs, but her flailing arms had caught Harry's attention and he had grabbed her wrist before the older girl could topple backwards. She did, however, fall over and slam her knee onto the edge of an uncovered step.
'Because our seats are up here,'James said, annoyed. Harry understood why, 'as I've said six times before.'
Sirius leant in near the other man's ear with a suppressed grin, 'But it was faaar,' he said, in a grating whining voice, 'oof.' James jabbed the long haired man in the gut, and Sirius was left bent-double as the Potter Patriarch lead the way to their reserved space.
James and Sirius, between them, had reserved a room that was a level below the Minister's box. James had explained that, while both of them would prefer to be amongst the crowd in the heart of the atmosphere, he didn't want his daughters amongst the chaos that would come. He muttered something about the last time, and Harry remembered reading of the history of the world cup; it hadn't been in England for some time, but last time it was in the country twenty-three people were trampled. It threw the survival instincts of wizards into question that they had all come anyway.
As he looked over the side, and down at the excited crowd of wizards, he saw he had greatly underestimated the number of people. Apparently a good few tents held as many people as the Potter's and, most likely, a good number of people had arrived just for the match. The stadium, inside, looked like it would comfortably seat a hundred thousand, not ten, and that it was full to capacity. Maybe above capacity.
Harry took his seat, and found that the atmosphere of excitement and fun was starting to get to him. He was eager for the match to begin.
They had been sitting there for a few minutes when someone stopped by for a brief conversation on their way up to the top-box. The man was aging and sour faced with a toothbrush mustache, and was accompanied by a red-haired young man who was following him with the eagerness of an excited puppy.
'Potter,' he nodded at James, and then eyes Sirius with some level of dislike, 'Black.' While his tone wasn't especially pleasant to James, it reflected some level of antipathy to Sirius, who grinned widely in return. From the fact that the smile didn't reach his eyes, however, Harry gathered that the feeling was mutual.
'Barty,' James nodded at the man, politely, 'headed up to the Minister's space?'
The now named Barty nodded, 'Indeed. He is hosting the Bulgarian Minister, and wishes to introduce me.' the man said, unhappily, 'I would recommend avoiding him. Fudge would relish at the chance to show off the-girl-who-lived.'
'Thanks for the tip.' James said.
'You're welcome,' the conversation paused at this, and Barty stood silent as a statue as the occupants of the room waited for him to continue.
'Well… have fun. We'll see you at the office tomorrow, I expect.' James said, awkwardly.
'Yes. Yes, you too,' the dislikable man said, with a frown on his face. He turned and walked out without introducing the ginger young man who was behind him. Not-Barty nodded politely at Amaryllis, Hermione and Tonks before hurrying after the sour face man.
'Wanker.' Sirius said, when the man had left.
'Yep.' James agreed.
Apparently, they didn't feel like explaining to Harry who the man was, so he asked Amaryllis, who was sat between Harry and Hermione, with Tonks on Hermione's other side. Sirius and James took a seat on Harry's right, between him and the twin girls.
'Barty Crouch,' she said, with a grimace, 'he supposedly could have been a great Wizard before his... family came into question, but Dad's always described him as a bit of a prat. Really power-hungry, and powerful already, he should've become the next Minister but he fucked up in the later stages of the war.' James ignored his daughter's language despite being well within earshot, 'Lucius Malfoy pointed a finger at Sirius, I don't know what he was trying to accomplish, and Crouch tried to throw the book at him. Tried to use the special-permissions he'd been given to just chuck him in Azkaban but Dad and Dumbledore had an altercation with him. Then, Sirius was one of the most vocal anti-Crouchers and when it came to light that his son was a Death Eater Sirius basically blamed his shitty parenting. The Prophet quoted him, and Crouch got shifted to head a quiet department to be out of Fudge's way as he played politics.
'I don't think it helped that Crouch helped with Snape, and that some other Death Eater who Dad's got a grudge against for being a "slimy little shit" got off free of charges because everyone was caught up in the scandal of Crouch's son being a Corpse-gobbler. Or that he desperately tried to get Bagman, who'll be commentating today, thrown in Azkaban for just being a dumbass. Dad and Sirius insist that he's harmless, if moronic, and both have seen what Azkaban do to weak-minded idiots.'
'I've gotta start putting up privacy wards.' James muttered, insincerely, as his daughter finished her speech. Sirius chuckled.
'She's the daughter of a Marauder, what did you expect?' Now, James laughed. Amaryllis blushed a little, but they were all distracted as a voice rang out over the stadium. Harry looked up, seeing the potbellied man on the floor above, and noticed that the Top Box was packed full, too.
Harry saw Barty Crouch shove a shaking House Elf aside, and frowned a little; he disliked the way they were viewed in the Wizarding World. But it wasn't his business. Next, Harry scowled as he noticed Lucius Malfoy in the room, sitting between a smaller short-haired version of the man and a pretty blonde witch with an expression that suggested she smelled something disgusting.
Harry then eyed the Weasleys with curiosity, noticing something odd, only for his attention to be pulled away as the crowd gave a roar of approval at something the disembodied voice announced.
Harry noted that the Blackboard that had, previously, been proclaiming a message about some family broom, now served as a scoreboard. It showed BULGARIA:ZERO and IRELAND:ZERO.
'And now, without further ado,' the enthusiastic plump man's voice announced, 'allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!'
Sirius was on his feet and next to the bannister a moment later, and Harry wondered what was wrong with the man as he stared at the field below.
'Where are they? Where are they? Got them!' Harry hadn't noticed before, but the man had gotten a device from somewhere that was roughly the same shape as Muggle Binoculars. The difference between them was the multitude of dials and buttons on Sirius' binoculars, some of which he twisted and pressed as he brought them to his eyes.
Curious, Harry took a step forward and looked down too. He wondered, briefly, what had gotten not-his-godfather so worked up. The likely cause occurred to him even as he spotted the true reason; Sirius had always had a weakness for women that bordered on obsessive. Even in war, he had flirted and fucked more than anyone's fair share.
Walking across the grass in strides of grace and elegance, were the most beautiful creatures Harry had ever seen. A hundred unnaturally gorgeous women walked across the pitch as those in the red portions of the crowd roared and clapped and hollered. Harry stared at them, his magical eye serving as his own looking glass, and felt his pulse quicken as they stopped and began to dance.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that he needed to stand out somehow. Harry wondered if vaulting the bannister would do it, and found his hand on the railing before another part of his mind insisted that that wouldn't do it. That, instead, he needed to drive his knee into the edge of the railing. That that would surely attract their attention.
A moment later, Harry was clutching his shattered knee cap on the floor and growling deep in his chest. That… whatever it was had cost him some bone, soon to be repaired as silver beneath his skin, and Harry found himself annoyed that he'd been so affected. Whatever those things were, he'd never encountered them before.
While he hobbled over and collapsed into his seat, Harry noticed that the girls of their party were giving him a strange look that only lasted for a moment before they all went back to watching James and Sirius wrestle a few metres away.
It seemed to be a display on Sirius' part, to show that he was the Alpha male of the crowd, and James was losing the fight because he was trying desperately not to laugh at Sirius' words as they tussled.
'Mine! All of them are mine! I'll screw them all, I don't care if it kills me! You can't have any of them, Prongs! All mine!' he said, trying to pin James to the floor as he chanted the greedy words. Harry didn't find it amusing, as he tried to understand what had happened. How powerful were they, that he'd been affected from several hundred metres away, when all they did was dance?
Harry decided, in that moment, to find out everything there was to know about the beautiful women that weren't women. And, more importantly, how he could resist their… charms.
Then music that Harry hadn't noticed was playing stopped, and Sirius came back to himself. Harry could see the wheels turning as the man wondered why he was on top of James with a hand pushing the man's face against the floor. Sirius got up, groaning, and spoke.
'Aw, crap. I dropped my Omnioculars.' He picked them up, and looked into the binocular-contraption and twizzled another nub, 'Well, I got a few minutes, at least.' He said to himself, and sat down on his seat as James struggled to his feet.
'No, don't worry. I don't need a hand, it's not like you were just wrestling me because you can't control your inner hound, or anything.'
The crowd was protesting as the Veelas moved off the pitch, and Harry heard new shouts coming from the green supporters.
A comet shot into the stadium, bright green and gold catching the moonlight almost as much as the Veela's perfect skin had, and exploded into a chaotic frenzy. A rainbow formed in the sky, and then a swirling cloud rushed around the goalposts. It broke apart into specks of green and gold, and they rushed individually around the pitch as the crowd oohed and aahed They all flew into the air, and Harry watched as they formed a giant shamrock. Gold rained from the sky, and Harry winced as fights broke out in the crowd below.
The Shamrock dissolved, becoming thousands of tiny figures, and drifted down to the pitch. Harry noticed that, on the other side, the Veelas sat on a long bench.
The man above spoke again, 'And now, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!' as seven scarlet-clad figures shot into the air above the pitch, each moving with speed enough to blur, he listed the name of each in turn, 'Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!'
The last figure brought the loudest roar of all, to the point that Harry flinched at the sound. The young man, Krum, was nineteen years old, thin and sallow skinned with dark hair, and was a celebrity that Harry had heard about over the course of the past few days. A prodigy, the best rider in years, like he was born to fly.
The announcer, Bagman, continued, 'And now, please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting- Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaand- Lynch!'
Seven green-clad players zoomed out, and the crowd cheered. None, however, got the ovation of Krum.
Next, Bagman brought out the referee, who kicked open the crate of balls as he mounted his broom. And the match begun.
It was halfway through the admittedly impressive match that Harry noticed the girl next to him was clutching his metal hand hard enough that her knuckles were white. He glanced at her, and saw Amaryllis drinking in the spectacle before them; she really seemed to care about Quidditch, and Harry felt no need to remove her grip. It might hurt her, later, but that could be fixed with an easy spell or two and Harry's hand was far too tough to be broken by the grip of a slightly thin teenage girl.
With each goal scored, the crowd roared and stomped and cheered. Or they booed and hollered insults, if they were Bulgarians. Harry didn't know the sport that well, but he could plainly see that there was a serious difference in skill between the two teams; Krum massively outclassed Lynch, but other than that the Bulgarian team was outmatched by far. The Irish Chasers were excellent, and moved as though they could communicate with their minds, and their beaters had landed a few serious hits on the Bulgarian team but, more importantly, had kept Bludgers from striking the goal-scorers or defender.
'Wronski Feint.' Amaryllis whispered, as the Irish seeker lay still on the grass. Harry watched, impressed, as Krum easily pulled his broom up only a few meters from the ground. He had taken the other seeker out of commission, and the game had come to a pause as Healers rushed over. That allowed the Bulgarian to search for the snitch himself. And he would need to catch it soon if he wanted to snatch victory from the Irish.
He caught it soon, but not soon enough. Troy, Mullet and Moran were unstoppable as they pulled ahead of the Bulgarians. First at Ten-Zero, then Thirty-Zero, Thirty-Ten, Eighty-Ten, One hundred-Ten, and then more.
The crowd had laughed, though, as the Referee gave a presentation worthy of a Peacock to the Veela's, trying to impress them. James nudged Sirius, remarking that his ladies were being stolen, and received a slap across the back of the head for his efforts as Sirius didn't take his eyes from the game.
The fact that the Bulgarian Beaters had adopted a policy of disruption, trying to buy Krum time to catch the quick golden ball, was a decent tactic. On paper. With each penalty, the Irish pulled ahead and it soon got to the point that Krum had to catch the snitch now or it would no longer save the game.
The beautiful women were replaced by avians throwing fire and shrieking, and Harry's ears stung as he plugged them with his fingers. He watched, at the same time, as a bludger slammed into Krum's face. Harry tensed, waiting for the man to fall from his broom, and was shocked as Krum stayed aloft with blood pouring from his face.
And then the end came. Lynch was diving for the snitch with Krum on his tail, the Bulgarian leaving blood trailing in the air behind him. He drew level with Lynch as the two rocketed downwards. They were going to crash-no. Lynch was. The Irish Seeker hit the ground with tremendous force, and wasn't getting up anytime soon as he was accosted by inuman, angry women.
Krum rose into the air, his hand raised in a fist that clutched the weakly fluttering wings of the golden snitch. The crowd did not seem to understand what was happening, as the scoreboard read: BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY.
Ireland cheered and Bulgaria gave a great groan of disappointment as the Leprechauns celebrated with gusto.
'Damn, that was a good game.' James said, with a grin on his face.
A few hours later, and Harry was lounging on one of the comfortable chairs in their tent. They had discussed the match at great length, and he'd found himself participating heartily. Harry had compared their tactics, giving potential alternatives, and had found himself highlighting the skill and resilience of Krum like the rest of them. Hermione, in particular, seemed outright impressed at the older boy and the fact that he had kept flying when his nose was broken and his eyes were rapidly developing deep rings of purple.
Now, everyone was beginning to get tired. George had fallen asleep half-an-hour before, and had been put to bed without any reluctance. Nobody looked to be far behind, though James and Sirius were still nipping out into the night occasionally to check that the celebrating Irish were not getting out of hand. The tent had an impressive array of sound-suppression charms, so their sounds were hardly audible inside.
'Careful, 'Mione,' Amaryllis, in a newly-made armchair, said with a grin, 'you and Ronald might have something in common if you keep this up.'
'Huh?' Hermione asked, 'What will we have in common?' she continued.
'You'll both fancy Krum.' Amaryllis ducked preemptively, and a pillow soared over her head, 'Don't worry! I'm sure he'll be willing to share!' The next one caught Amaryllis in the face, and Hermione burst out laughing with her friend as Tonks chortled along with them. James had snuck his eldest daughter a Firewhiskey, as well as Hermione and Harry. He had seemed put out that Harry drank it without a problem, but accepted the explanation that he'd had his first at age twelve with a grin that was almost proud.
''S'ere gonna be a contest between you 'nd the Wesley boy?' Sirius asked, with a grin. He was tipsy, but assured James he could kick it at a moment's notice when they needed to go out again.
'A contest?'
'Yep-indeedio. Krum's coming to Hogwarts this year, if I remember correctly.'
'Why would Krum be coming to Hogwarts? He lives in Bulgaria.'
'Padfoot! Oi!'
'Oh, right. A secret. I guess you lot'll have to wait and see.' Sirius gave a mischievous smile that Harry would have taken to mean he was playing a joke on them. Would have because Harry's eyes, which had drifted to be half-lidded, snapped open suddenly. 'Harry? What's up?'
Harry sniffed the air once. Twice. Then, the iris of his left eye spun out of view, to stare through the right side of his head. He saw something, and was moving even as his mouth opened to say the word.
'DOWN!'
The world exploded.