Harry was to stay with the Weasleys during the summer before his fourth year. After receiving a letter from Dumbledore, cautioning them to keep Ginny and Harry at a distance after the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny could easily slip back into depression. As soon as they portkeyed into the stadium, Harry could feel his mood brightening and he was feeling better after days. It felt as if his soul knew something important was going to happen today and it made Harry almost bursting with a sense of happiness and contentment. Finally they reached the The Quidditch Trillenium Stadium, built in the middle of a large deserted moor in Dartmoor, the Quidditch stadium was capable of holding 100,000 wizards at once, with halls draped in scarlet. Harry was amazed to see so many tents in one place. After setting up a tent the Weasleys, excluding Ginny and Molly headed to the stadium. They met many of Harry's schoolmates- Seamus, Dean and Draco among others. Ginny was with Ethan, one of her best friends from France. Just outside the stadium, were stalls selling butterbeer, muffins, chocolate cauldrons, Bertie Bott's all flavoured beans, Omniculars and there were random people dancing about the entrance of the stadium, drawing crowds which dropped knuts and sickles into the hats of the dancers. After Mr. Weasley gave them each a sickle, the whole clan stepped inside the stadium. The view of inside would be enough to make a grown wizard stare open mouthed. Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys were all staring into the pitch awestruck. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Harry's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Harry saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field. Harry immediately recognized Cornelious Fudge, the Minister for Magic sitting in the special box below him. Next to him were his important Ministry officials such as Lucius Malfoy, Edward Avery and Timothy Nott among others. For some reason they all seemed excited about something that night. Looking at them, Harry had an intuition that something big was going to happen and these three will play a very important quickly glanced round the stadium, seeing Ludo Bagman talking to some officials on the pitch. He started about how Irish National Quidditch team flattened Peruvian National Quidditch team in the semi-finals to set up a meeting with theBulgarian National Quidditch team. The Bulgarians had won the last twelve Eastern European Championships and had a "rock solid defense". Ireland were another defensively strong team, but they also managed to score as many points as nearly every team in the World Cup. "NOW I PRESENT TO YOU, WITCHES AND WIZARDS, TEAM IRELAND!" Ireland wore green robes with each player's name embroidered in silver on their back. They all flew Firebolt broomsticks and Leprechauns served as the team's mascots. The mascots were throwing piles of gold onto the spectators, who were grabbing them eagerly. After flying two rounds of the whole pitch, the team took their positions on the left side of the field."KRUM! KRUM!" Ron kept on screaming, eagerly waiting for the entry of his favorite International Quidditch player. But just like Team Ireland's entry, the mascots came first. The Veela were the mascots of Team Bulgaria. As soon as they entered, men were crowding around the railings, trying to get as close as possible to the Veela. Every male except Harry. "Don't you feel compelled to go closer to them, Harry?"Hermione asked gesturing to the Veelas. Then she pointed out how all the wizards in the stadium were obsessing over the Veelas. "I can feel a pull of course, but I guess it's manageable. I certainly do not feel like jumping over the railing like Ron." "What! Stupefy! Atleast that's taken care of", said Hermione, sighing in relief. "NOW I PRESENT TO YOU TEAM BULGARIA!" The cheers and shouts echoing through the stadium were deafening. Wizards are over the stadium were hollering and witches were pushing each other, just for that one look of Krum. He was looking quite dashing, wearing scarlet robes. "The Minister releases the balls and they're off!" cried Ludo Bagman. It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible— the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums. HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser, Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!" " What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!" "Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed. Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy — Mullet —Moran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more,bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal."Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgariawas again in possession of the Quaffle."Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh I say!" roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplaneswithout parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was — "They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry. She was half right — at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats. "Fool!" moaned Mr. Weasley. "Krum was feinting!" It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!" "He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ron, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course. . . ." Harry hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes. He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow DEFENSIVE FEINT — DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. He saw Krum's facein time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference. Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul. "And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators."And — yes, it's a penalty to Ireland! The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again. As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears. "Look at the referee!" she said, giggling. Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly. "Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!" A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous. "And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before. . . . Oh this could turn nasty. . . ." It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle. "Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms . . . yes . . . there they go . . . and Troy takes the Quaffle . . ." Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom. "Foul !" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. "Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran — deliberately flying to collide there — and it's got to be another penalty — yes, there's the whistle!" The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders — "And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!" Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Harry turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet. "Levski — Dimitrov — Moran — Troy — Mullet — Ivanova — Moran again — Moran — MORAN SCORES! But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov — The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight. Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same. "Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him —" "Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled. For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing. . . . "He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!" Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on . . . but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea; there were flecks of bloodnflying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again —"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione. "They're not!" roared Ron. "Lynch is!" yelled Harry. And he was right — for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. "The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row. "He's got it — Krum's got it — it's all over!" shouted Harry. Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight. "IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS —good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!" "What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!" "He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good. . . . He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all. . . ." "He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess. . . ." Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn. Meanwhile across the pitch, Ginny was hugging Emma and both girls were jumping up and down. She was feeling as if she would burst out of the happiness she was feeling at that moment, her soul was almost buzzing with contentment and excitement. Ginny knew these emotions had absolutely no relation to the match, but, for now she decided to let it go and celebrate. AN/ I have copied the ajority part of the Quidditch World Cup Chapter from J.K. Rowlings' book - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and would like to say that all rights of the book and content belong to J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publications.