"What Happens at the World Cup ..."

Sirius

It was six o'clock, on the morning of 26 August, and Sirius stood alone in the lounge of his house on the outskirts of London. He was bone tired from the events of the previous night, and looked forward only to a warm bed in which to catch up on sleep. Though he felt filthy from mucking about in the forest in the middle of the night, he shrugged off the thought of a shower, deciding that cleaning the sheets later would be a more palatable option. He trod carefully across the wood floor and winced as a loud creak emanated under his foot. There was something he desperately needed to check on before his wife awoke. Opening the front door, he peered out in the dim morning light to see the wizard and muggle papers side by side, as usual, on the front step. Picking them both up, he hurriedly closed the door back and crept into the kitchen. He used a dim lumos charm on his wand as the only source of light and opened up the paper.

The Daily Prophet, once unrolled, was predictable in its choice of front page headline:

SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP

Well, that was for certain, Sirius thought as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. For the first time since Voldemort's downfall, a crowd of Death Eaters had made a public appearance designed to frighten the daylights out of World Cup attendees. It had worked, too. They had terrorized an unfortunate family of muggles while everyone watched helplessly. In addition, they had conjured the Dark Mark, which summoned so many horrifying memories for Sirius when he saw it glittering in the sky that he had to strongly resist the urge to flee on the spot. Flashbacks had begun to play repeatedly in his mind; James and Lily's deaths, an explosion on the streets of London, the cold dank stench of Azkaban, rotting dementors, and the face of a certain Ministry official. For in his frantic desire to protect Harry and James during the melee, Sirius himself had come, rather drunkenly, face to face with the man responsible for sending him to Azkaban thirteen years prior: Barty Crouch, Senior.

Sirius had prepared himself earlier for an encounter with Crouch, of course. Once they sat down in their box and Harry had begun to chat with a tiny house elf behind them, he discovered with a jolt that the elderly Ministry official was the master she was saving a seat for. He sat anxiously for quite some time, unable to enjoy the match and wondering what he might do upon seeing the old man in person. But Crouch never showed, and now Sirius, immensely relieved, accepted an invitation to hang out with Charlie and Bill Weasley for a few firewhiskeys. James and Harry had already gone to the Weasley tent not long after the match was finished, but several thousand Ireland supporters were in full reveling mode. Sirius and his two new mates joined in and within the hour, had consumed rather more than a few firewhiskies.

Then the evening had abruptly taken a turn for the worse with the appearance of the Dark Mark and the resulting chaos. By the time things with Crouch and Harry had been resolved, it was very early in the morning. Sirius staggered, in between drunkenness and exhaustion, to the Weasley tent to sleep, but sleep never came to him. As he tossed and turned, he couldn't get the disturbing images out of his mind. But now one image in particular wouldn't leave him. It was so ridiculous, he thought in disgust, that he still couldn't believe it had actually happened.

Yet here he was, hours later, furtively looking through the Prophet and feeling like a child. He flipped through several pages of World Cup news, growing more relieved with each one he turned. Then he got to the last page, scanning each picture in hopes that his wouldn't be one of them. But it was.

The caption read: Sirius Black chats up the beautiful Georgieva Petrova at a party after the Bulgaria-Ireland Quidditch Match. The caption was read out loud. In Rita Skeeter's oily voice. She actually snickered as she uttered the word "chats." Horrified, he couldn't stop himself from listening to Skeeter's cloying commentary, which was full of her usual innuendo and referred to Sirius as Britain's newest celebrity in the wizarding world, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. The picture moved for several seconds. Though he never quite kissed her, their faces drew ever closer with Sirius appearing absolutely entranced. The woman in the picture, whose hair was a sheet of the whitest blonde and absolutely gleamed, gave a tinkly laugh and spoke with a heavy accent as he brushed a few strands tenderly out of her face for her and gushed like a schoolboy, telling her several things which, as he listened now, were unbelievingly embarrassing.

Sirius groaned softly, wondering exactly how merciful, or maybe unmerciful, Laura was likely to be, if she saw this. He quickly considered his options. Option one. Be completely honest and accept any fall-out. Option two. Throw the paper away and hope the subject was never brought up by anyone else. Not bloody likely. Option three? He couldn't think of an option three.

He rolled the paper up once more and stuffed it into his back pocket for the time being, then stole quietly into their bedroom. The door's hinge creaked slightly as he pushed it open and looked in. He could hear the sound of deep breathing indicating that Laura was still asleep. Backing out, he returned quietly into the kitchen to make breakfast. He was starving.

He sipped tea in silence and munched on toast. Surely Laura would understand once he explained things. This thought didn't provide any respite from his worrying, though. He finished his toast and used his wand to clean the plate, putting it back in a stack in the cabinet. As he closed the cabinet door, he heard a soft knock at the front door. Wondering if perhaps it was Arthur Weasley bringing James home, he walked quickly to answer it. When he opened it, he saw Remus standing there, looking surprised at Sirius' appearance.

"Remus," Sirius exclaimed in a low voice.

"Sirius," Remus replied. "I hadn't expected you home at this hour. I was, um, here to speak with Laura. I know it's awfully early." He held a folded newspaper in one hand and his wand in the other.

"Well," Sirius began, eyeing the newspaper warily, "I felt it was best to return quickly. I had a feeling there might be something ..." He pointed miserably at the one Remus was holding.

"Padfoot. You, my friend, are in some trouble," Remus said reprovingly, shaking the paper at Sirius. He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Care to explain?" He couldn't help but smirk slightly. He already guessed what had happened.

Sirius looked in the direction of the hallway. "Let's go outside," he said softly.

They walked out and Sirius closed the door behind him.

"Veela, right?" Remus didn't waste any time. "I almost snorted tea through my nose when I saw that picture. So you think you're fifteen again, huh?" He tried not to laugh at Sirius' tortured expression.

"Oh please, Remus, many things happened last night which were much more important than that! So what are you doing here, if you didn't expect me to be home?"

Remus smiled slightly. "Just a bit of damage control. I assumed Laura would see this before you arrived and have no idea what a Veela was. I didn't want her to worry."

Sirius grimaced. "That was nice of you. I've been wondering exactly how to bring it up myself. No bright ideas are presenting themselves, however."

"How about the truth? Nothing happened, am I right?"

"Of course not. I was with a couple of the Weasley boys, celebrating. We just happened to stumble into the midst of a crowd of Bulgarians. I turned around, and there she was. She caught me off guard, Remus, and some stupid Prophet photographer got a damn picture of me coming on to the silly creature before I could regain control of myself. Saw Barty Crouch last night, as well," he added flatly.

"Crouch? Face to face?"

"Yes. Bloody old codger sacked his house elf for disobedience. Everyone thought she'd conjured the Dark Mark."

"A house elf??" Remus was disbelieving. "What house elf would know how to do that?"

"None, I should think. He sacked her anyway, even after it was obvious she hadn't done it. But Crouch and I didn't have much to say to each other, though I was sorely tempted to lob a curse his way. Probably would have gotten thrown back in Azkaban for my trouble, though." He sighed in irritation. "He was surprised to see me, I can tell you."

Remus changed the subject. "So did James come back with you?"

"No, he's at the Weasleys' for now. They're supposed to bring him home later today. Harry's going to stay with them a few more days, until school starts."

Remus nodded slightly. "Well, I must be going. I, er, hope Laura doesn't take the news too harshly. You'll never live this down, you know." With a lopsided grin, he held his wand up. "Mind if I come back inside to apparate?"

"Oh, yeah ... and thanks for the vote of confidence," Sirius answered sardonically. He opened the door, and Remus followed him back inside.

"Good luck, Sirius," he said, before dissolving into the air.

Sirius stood after him for a moment, then went into the kitchen once more. He sat back down at the table, trying to imagine how Laura might react. After several minutes, he heard the bedroom door creak open and the sound of footsteps padding down the hallway. Laura shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, stopping suddenly upon seeing Sirius sitting there.

"Oh! You scared me. I wasn't expecting you back this early. Where's James?" She walked over and leaned down to kiss him.

"James is at the Weasleys' house for now. He should be back later today."

"Mmmm." Ignoring the tea, she began to make brew coffee. "So how was it?" she asked, yawning.

Sirius contemplated how to answer this. "Interesting," he replied slowly. "Some nasty things happened."

She was immediately more alert. "What do you mean? Are James and Harry okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Death Eaters are back, though, at least out in the open. Things rapidly deteriorated after they appeared."

"Oh my God! Is it in today's paper?"

He paused. "I, er, suppose so." He thought of the paper rolled up in his back pocket. "Haven't looked yet."

"I'll go get it," she suggested.

"No-" Sirius began. Laura turned around.

"What?"

"Well, I've – I've already picked them up."

She looked confused. "Oh. Well, let's see it, then."

"Well, the thing is, uh ..." Damn, how would he explain this? "I want to tell you something first."

Now Laura looked suspicious. "Something did happen to you! Are you sure the kids are alright?"

"We're all fine, I promise. It's something else. Not related to Death Eaters."

She sat next to him. "What is it?"

"Do you know what a veela is?"

Laura thought. "No. Can't say I've heard of it."

"Well. At the match, it was Bulgaria against Ireland. They each brought, uh, team mascots."

"So a veela is some kind of animal?"

"No. The Irish had leprechauns, and the Bulgarians brought veela. You're familiar with leprechauns, I'm sure?"

"Like the little guy on the Lucky Charms cereal box?" She looked amused. "I guess you're going to tell me they really exist."

"Well, they do." Sirius felt suddenly defensive. "Sorry if that sounds so unbelievable to you."

"I was just joking, honey. So, leprechauns exist. Now, what's a veela?"

He tried to think of a way to describe them that wasn't so ... complimentary. "Veela are like fairies, I suppose. They have this aura, I guess you'd say, and men tend to act very silly around them. To impress them."

She was growing more contemplative. "What do they look like, that men can't resist them?" She couldn't quite keep the humor out of her voice.

Sirius tried to stick only to the facts. "White-blond hair, long and straight. They're tall and slender. They dance."

"Ah. Is that what ropes the guys in?"

"Well, no, just their presence, really. It must sound really silly to you." He felt even more embarrassed.

Laura shrugged. "I don't know why I'm surprised by anything to do with wizards anymore. Certainly the most intriguing bunch of people I've ever met." She finished her cup and rose to pour more. "Coffee?"

"No thanks," Sirius replied, glancing at her belly. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright. My nose is still stuffed up from the pregnancy. It's driving me crazy." She noticed something. "Is that the paper in your back pocket?"

"Oh. Yes." He felt around and reluctantly pulled it out, though still holding on to it protectively.

She looked suspiciously at him. "Well, may I see it?"

"Let me explain something first. We, um, ran into one last night."

She laughed heartily. "What, a veela? Oh Lord. She didn't get James, did she? That must have been something. Was she gentle with him?" He didn't smile.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius. What's the matter? Let me see the paper. Are there incriminating photos or something?"

He sat, stony-faced and immobile. "No, she didn't get James," he muttered. He held on to the paper, but Laura was too quick. She snatched it from his hand and unrolled it.

"Oh my," she said softly, momentarily distracted as she read the front page headline about the World Cup tragedy. Sirius watched her. "That's horrible," she added, then continued to read, noticing a picture of Barty Crouch, Sr. at the bottom. She stared at it for a moment. Then, flipping to the next page, she skimmed it for anything noteworthy. Then as he sat, feeling miserable and helpless, she made it to the last page. Her eyes scanned each picture as the sound of Rita Skeeter's slick voice accompanied them. Finally, before she even got to the last one, they could both hear the words, "Sirius Black ..." and she looked down at it in surprise and then horror. She heard the veela's tinkly accented voice, laughing flirtatiously as her husband begged her to go away with him. The sound of someone behind him broke in. "He's married! Take me instead!" And Sirius answering fervently, "I'll get a divorce. It doesn't matter!" as he moved in for a kiss. Then the picture paused and started over at the beginning.

After staring at it for a long time, Laura looked up at him. "Got you, huh?" she said quietly. She carefully folded it up once more and laid it on the table. Her face was white.

"Laura, I'm sorry. I'd had a few firewhiskies and we were in the middle of this big crowd, and when I turned around this veela was right there ... bloody stupid Rita Skeeter follows me around everywhere ...I mean, normally it wouldn't have affected me. You know I didn't mean anything I said. That's just what happens when you get around one of those things! It was a miserable night. I wish I hadn't gone."

"I can see that," she said implacably, watching him. "You looked really miserable in the photo." She continued to sit, now with her arms crossed.

"Now just a minute! I told you why it looks that way! Not only did I get my picture snapped with some Bulgarian tart in a silly moment of weakness for every wizard in Britain to see and laugh at, I had the pleasure of coming face to face with the man who personally sent me to Azkaban, because somebody used Harry's wand to conjure a dark mark! I repeat, Laura, I was not exactly having a good time!" He glared at her, feeling plenty of righteous anger.

"Sorry to hear that," she finally said. "I'm going to take a shower." She rose to walk out of the room, then suddenly whirled around. "You know, I feel like an enormous fucking cow these days as it is. Thanks so much for your kind words about me," Laura said coldly. She turned back and left the kitchen without a backward glance. Sirius watched her go, clenching his fists in anger.