Chapter Forty-Five: The Quidditch World Cup
"Wow Dad, how far up are we?" Ron asked amazed as the clambered up the stairs.
"I feel like we could touch the sky from here!" Ginny said dreamily.
Harry smiled at his friends' enthusiasm as he followed them higher and higher through the Quidditch Stadium.
It was the day of the Quidditch World Cup and seemingly every Wizard and every Witch in the whole wide world was present.
The noise level was unbelievable high and the whole stadium seemed to vibrate under the feet of the stomping, cheering, dancing, shouting, jumping masses.
Harry himself was pretty excited. It was a welcome distraction.
Moving to avoid one of Ron's long flailing arms as the red-head gestured wildly while talking, Harry bumped into the handrail.
A dull throb of pain shot through his side and he grimaced slightly.
Although he had taken his potions and was sure the wound was perfectly healed it was still sensitive to touch and pressure.
"Alright there Harry?" Sirius asked.
Harry smiled
"Yeah, just bumped into the railing. No biggie." He said, grinning.
Sirius smiled back.
His face was painted in green and white, just like the twins faces.
When they had arrived at the Burrow this morning, Sirius had been so excited that he instantly had agreed to the whole program: face-paint, matching outfits, all of it!
Then he had helped the twins boo Ron's and Ginny's red-and black hats and Bulgarian scarves.
Harry had wisely decided to stay out of the fan-war.
Instead he had fallen back on their way up to the stadium while those four started a heated debate on which team was better and instead opted to talk with Bill and Charlie and occasionally Mr. Weasley and even Percy, to see if anything on his latest nightly adventure had yet leaked out into the open.
He was surprised to find out that that wasn't the case.
At least nobody mentioned anything remotely connected to the Malfoys or the Greengrasses. Or nightly raids.
Or dead war heroes that suddenly appeared after more than a decade.
And they weren't the only ones.
Harry had yet to hear from Victor and Elijah too.
He knew they were probably still recovering.
After all, it had been just a day since their small…rescue mission.
Still Harry had carefully read through the whole Prophet yesterday morning and today.
Nothing.
It was almost unsettling how…quiet it suddenly was.
Of course, there was still the matter with Malfoys little surprise for the World Cup.
But there were so many people here and compared to that there were just a handful of them.
Surely not even the Deatheaters were stupid enough to mount a full-on-attack…
Another reason why Harry was so apprehensive was because of his invisibility cloak.
Or rather the lack of it.
Only when he had woken up yesterday did he remember that he had lost it during the fight at Malfoy Manor.
Harry had sat on his bed for almost an hour, trying very hard not to cry in despair.
The only gift from his father, an heirloom of his family, was gone, lost.
He didn't dare to imagine Malfoy or Draco finding it. Or any other of the Deatheater scum.
He shook his head, trying to dislodge the unhappy thoughts and tried to concentrate on the problem ahead.
The Deatheaters surprise.
They wouldn't outright attack. That was not their stile. It would be sudden and unexpected.
An ambush.
It killed Harry that he couldn't warn anyone.
But what would he tell them?
'Excuse me Mr. Auror Sir? Yes, during a secret nightly invasion of Lord Malfoys Mansion my friends and I found out that he is hosting a Deatheater convention and they are planning on infiltrating the World Cup. When? Well, during the World Cup. Where? I don't know. Who? Well, Lord Malfoy is one of them, as I already mentioned. But I don't know who else. Why did I break into Lord Malfoys Mansion? Well, you see…that's a long story. It involves mind-control and my sort-of-not-really-but-almost-hopefully-girldfriend-Daphne-Greengrass and a dead war hero. Sir? Where are you going?'
No, that wouldn't work.
"Harry? What's with the glum and bitter face?"
Harry startled out of his thoughts.
Bill smiled at him but his eyes were slightly narrowed.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just thinking about…the bad mood either two of those four will be in when the others' team wins." He improvised, pointing at the arguing foursome before them.
"If Sirius's loses he will spend the rest of the holidays sulking."
Bill and Charlie laughed.
"Yeah, I can imagine. Ron and Ginny are both fanatics when it comes to Quidditch." Charlie mused.
"And you're not?" Bill snorted.
"Exactly." Charlie said seriously but winked ta Harry.
Harry chuckled.
"So Harry, are you ready for your next year at Hogwarts?" Arthur asked.
Harry shook his head. "I can't believe it's less than a week until it begins. I feel like time went by twice as fast ever since I got back." He admitted.
"It will be fine. A nice quite year full of studying and no drama." Bill assured him.
Harry looked at him pointedly. "Now you jinxed it." He moaned.
"Don't be so overdramatic." Bill grinned, punching him gently in the shoulder.
.
They had almost reached their seats when they ran into them.
Ron was once again gushing about high up they could possibly sit when a familiar voice drawled: "Well…let's put it this way: If it rains, you will be the first to know."
Harry blood froze in his veins as he turned towards the voice.
Lucius Malfoy, accompanied by his son of course, stood on the catwalk below them, smiling coolly at them.
Unlike the last time Harry had seen him he was once again dressed perfectly, his hair falling like a waterfall down to his chest.
Although, Harry noticed, he was leaning rather heavily onto his walking stick.
Malfoys eyes flew over them but they stopped at Harry and narrowed ever so slightly.
But Draco butted in before he could say anything.
"Father and I sit in the Ministers Box. Minister Fudge invited us personally."
He sounded so proud.
It almost hurt Harry physically not to roll his eyes.
Malfoy Senior shot his son a glare.
"Don't boast Draco. These people are not worth it."
This time Harry really did roll his eyes. He was only glad Sirius had managed to keep his mouth shut until now.
He gently grabbed Hermione, who was standing next to him, by the arm, turning her away from the stupid bigot.
But Malfoy was faster.
He lashed out with his walking stick.
The teeth of the hissing snake-head buried themselves in the back of his hand but Harry refused to acknowledge the pain.
Instead he glared at the Lord Malfoy.
"Enjoy yourself while you still can Potter." The threat was poorly concealed.
Harry knew it was probably a stupid thing to do but he leaned down the railing and asked in a low voice: "I will. Oh, and, by the way, how's the leg? I notice you're favouring the other one more." He asked on mock-concern.
Malfoy sneered at him before pulling his stick back and striding away.
Harry slowly straightened up, only to notice that everyone was looking at him slightly flabbergasted.
"What?" he asked.
"What…was that all about?" Sirius asked, concern written all over his face.
Harry shrugged. "Nothing at all. We…. kind of met…the other day." He lied. Then he added: "Come on, let's go!"
.
.
.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Harry cursed himself in his head as he dodged through the trees, Ron and Hermione at his side.
Beyond the wood, parts of the camping grounds were in flames.
The cries of thousands of people hung in the air and the unmistaken sound of spell-fire in the air was all around them. All Harry wanted to do was turn around and hex every single one of those thrice-damned Deatheaters.
But he knew he couldn't.
Hermione stumbled over a root but Harry and Ron held her upright as they dashed further through the darkness.
But Harry didn't dare cast any light.
Who knew who was waiting in these woods?
He regretted that they had gotten separated from the others during the attack.
He was worried for all of the others.
Bill, the twins, Sirius, Ginny, everyone!
Focus Harry, get out here alive and then worry, he told himself.
"Down there!" he hissed.
Next to them the ground broke away abruptly into a small gorge. It was only six or seven feet, safe enough to jump.
Harry went first, catching Hermione as she too jumped, closely followed by Ron.
"We can't stay here and wait!" Ron whispered forcefully.
"What will you have us do?" Harry asked back. "We can't do magic, we don't know where the others are or where we are for that matter and we don't know how many Deatheaters are there. Or where they are. Besides, everyone down there is in such a panic, it could happen they mistake us for the enemy if we go back running through the forest. No. I say we wait here and alert the others as to where we are." He argued back.
"And how? You said it yourself, we can't do magic!" Hermione whispered, her voice high and shakily.
"Well, technically that's not true. You can't do magic. But I don't have the Trace on my wand. I can."
Ron frowned. "I thought Sirius put it back on after you sneaked out the other night?"
Harry looked down. "Yeah well, a friend removed it again because I needed it." He said silently.
He felt their confused gazes on him.
"The point is" he continued quickly "I think I know how I can let them know where we are."
He took a deep breath. "I don't know how exactly this goes but I have seen it work so…I hope…"
He concentrated and whispered: "Expecto Patronum."
His silver stag burst into life, blinding them momentarily.
Proud and tall he stood before them.
"Prongs. Find Sirius. Bring him to us." He told the Patronus, staring it in the eyes.
The stag turned around and cantered away.
"And now?" Ron asked.
"Now we wait." Harry muttered, not happy with the situation himself.
.
More than once voices approached their hiding spot and several times more did it end in the exchange of spells.
The hurried deeper into the gorge, hiding in the shadows.
Harry cast warming charms on them since they were barefooted and in their pyjamas.
There was little talk among them.
They just huddled together, listening for the friendly and familiar voices of their family.
Slowly the screams quieted down but the orange hue of the fires was still going strong.
"Harry? When…when you were in Cambodia with…with Bill. Was there….was there ever a time you felt like this? Helpless, I mean?" Ron asked suddenly.
"A couple of times." Harry admitted. "Especially when…" he stopped.
"When the Deatheaters had you all cornered in that chamber?" Ron asked silently.
Harry turned his head sharply.
"Bill told us. I don't think he told us everything but…you know…most of it."
Harry sighed.
"Yeah. Then too. Alice was hurt. As was Eric. And they had….something important. And…well….I was sure we were going to die." He admitted.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked silently.
"We kept fighting." Harry told them.
"Then we should do so now!" Ron growled. "Damn the Trace and the underage-magic-rule. I say this counts as a reasonable exception."
"We can't!" Harry said sharply.
"Why not? You did it! Why don't you want us to do it?" Ron argued.
"Because back then I had an awesome team behind me and I knew what I was facing! There were four of them. Merlin knows how many are there right now! This isn't our fight Ron! You saw what they did. I can assure you, they can do far worse that humiliate some muggles."
"Harry!" Hermione hissed.
"It's the truth!" Harry growled back.
"We can't sit here and wait until they find us. Your Patronus probably didn't work!" Ron argued.
Harry couldn't really argue against that.
They had been here for quite some time.
"So what do you want to do? Go back to camp?" he asked.
"We should at least leave the warded area. Besides, there will be Aurors here soon if they aren't already." Ron muttered.
"I think Ron is right Harry. We're sitting ducks here." Hermione whispered.
Harry nodded. "Okay, yeah, sounds good."
The tension between them disappeared.
"Alight, let's go."
This time their track through the forest was slower and more careful.
But there was nothing.
As they reached the edge of the forest and gazed down the hillside at what once was the Camping ground, Harry swallowed hard.
Next to him Hermione gasped as Ron let out a soft 'Oh'.
The site was ruined.
Although most fires were dying down, leaving in their wake only the skeleton-like-frames of tents and market stalls.
Smoke hung over the field and a slight wind had come up.
But what was the worst, was the quiet.
Hours before hundred thousand of Quidditch fans had celebrated here.
Now it was a quiet as a graveyard.
Nobody was there.
Nobody at all.
No…that wasn't right….there…there was movement down there.
Acting on instinct Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione back the shoulders and dragged them back into the shelter of the trees.
Both let out startled gasps.
"There's someone there!" Harry hissed.
"Where?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"Down there, straight ahead." Harry whispered.
"I see him." Ron confirmed. He had his omniocular pressed against his eye. Where it had come from Harry had no idea.
"Can I?" he asked.
Ron handed it to him wordlessly.
Harry stared at the man down in the ruined camp as he strolled through eth still smoking ruins.
He had the feeling he should know him.
But…from where.
It was like a memory from a dream. Far away and yet it burned on the tip of his tongue.
"Does anyone recognize him?" he asked, passing the omniocular to Hermione.
"No." she whispered.
"No." Ron repeated.
"You don't think he could maybe help us, or?" Hermione didn't sound convinced of her own words.
"The way he's strolling through there? Not bloody likely." Ron whispered.
"What's he doing anyway?" Harry muttered as he stared through the omniocular again.
The man had stopped in a small free area and was pulling his wand from the inside of his robes, raising it to the sky.
Harry saw his lips move and a dirty-green light shot up into the sky where it exploded.
Almost simultaneously Harrys scar flared up and he gasped, dropping the omniocular.
"Harry?" he heard Hermione ask but it sounded so very far away.
He could feel himself dropping to his knees and hand touching his body, steadying him, but his mind was far away.
A series of images rushed through his mind.
First the man's face, down there strolling through the ashes. Then he was back in Cambodia in their camp, in his tent, in his bed. Then he saw the faces of the dead he had seen when he had met the Philosophers stone. The four masked Deatheaters appeared and the cold words of one of them echoed through his mind. 'Our cause'. Voldemort. And then suddenly it seemed to fall into place. He remembered. One of the first dreams he had in Cambodia was that of a dark mansion, an armchair standing before a fireplace and two men standing next to it. He just hadn't remembered until now. One of the men had been Wormtail, he was sure of it. The other man was the one down there at the camping site. Although his face was shadowed in his dream Harry knew that was why he looked so familiar.
But that left just so many more questions.
Harry gasped, returning to his sense.
He realized he was on his back, his head pillowed on Hermione's knees. Ron was next to him, looking very worried.
"Oh my god Harry, can you hear me?" Hermione all but sobbed above him.
"Harry mate! Are you with us?" Ron asked
"'m with you." Harry mumbled. "What happened?" he muttered.
"You just collapsed." Hermione whispered.
A hot stabbing pain shot through his forehead.
He winced, his hand flying to his scar.
It felt hot and swollen.
"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.
"It's me scar. It hurts." He whispered.
"Ahm…guys….you should really see that!" Ron muttered, pointing at the sky.
Harry turned his head and followed Ron's finger.
There, high in the sky hung the ghostly image of a skull and out of its mouth slithered a snake, illuminating everything in a pale sickly green light.
Looking at the picture turned Harrys stomach around and sent throbbing spasms of pain through his head.
He groaned, letting his head fall back onto Hermione's knees.
"Harry! Your scar, it's all red!" Ron noticed worriedly.
"What is that thing?" Harry asked with gritted teeth.
It was Hermione who answered.
"It's the Dark Mark. It's the symbol of You-know-how." She said grimly.
.
Harry really didn't feel like walking but they had to get away from here. Especially since the man they had spotted conjuring the forbidden sign was gone. And he could just really be anywhere.
Ron and Hermione supported him the way down the hill, past the burnt-out remains of the camp and towards the proximity-line.
"What do we do now?" Hermione asked.
"There will be people here soon." Ron said confidentially. "At least it shouldn't take this long to mobilize the Aurors." he muttered.
He was right.
All of a sudden there were several 'plops' and instinctively Harry let himself drop down to his knees, dragging his friends with him as just moments later several red curses collided above tehri heads, sending a shower of sparks down on them.
Seemed like reinforcements was here.
But they were still too late.
.
.
.
"Sirius, I'm fine, I promise." Harry said tiredly as the medi-wizard prodded him. "I'm not injured and I'm sure the Healer could be needed elsewhere more pressingly." He added.
"Are you sure?" Sirius fretted.
"I am. I just got a headache."
"You collapsed."
"And now I only have a headache. Please Sirius, all I want is to go home." Harry begged.
Putting aside everything else that had happened, after nearly being stunned to death, accused of having conjured that horrible sign in the sky, being interrogated, having his wand checked against his will and having to explain why exactly there was no trace on it, Harry was all to read to call it a day.
Sirius sighed.
"I guess so."
He turned to the healer.
"And he really is alright?" he asked.
The Healer shrugged. "A few bruises and a headache, nothing a good nights rest won't take care of. He's good to go."
Harry jumped off the stretcher.
"Alright." Sirius muttered. "Thanks." He told the Healer, shaking his hand.
"My pleasure. Have a good night." The Healer replied.
That's unlikely, Harry thought.
After the Fudge/Barty-Crouch incident Mr. Weasley had found them and taken them to where the rest of their friends and family was gathered.
Sirius had broken into a sprint when he had seen Harry and picked him clean of the ground.
It was slightly embarrassing.
They had all been talking at once but somehow, they all had been able to filter out the most important info each. Harry was just glad nobody was hurt.
Upon hearing that Harry had collapsed at the hill, Sirius had whisked him to St. Mungo's.
The hospital was overrun with people form the World Cup but Sirius insisted that Harry git himself checked out, despite Harrys reassurances that he was feeling fine again (he wasn't, not really but it wasn't that bad!).
Grabbing Harrys shoulder firmly Sirius flooed them away.
They reappeared to Harrys surprise at the Burrow.
The Weasleys, Hermione and Remus where there.
"Harry, Sirius! Finally, we were so worried." Molly whispered.
"The hospital was overrun." Sirius explained. "We had to wait."
"Are alright Harry?" Molly asked.
"Yeah, nothing happened."
"That's not exactly true." Ron pointed out.
"My scar always hurts when Voldemort is around." Harry argued. "Or something connected to him." He added quickly when he saw the horrified faces.
"Did you see who did it?" Charlie asked.
"There was a man." Ron said. "But we couldn't really see his face." Hermione added.
"I thought he looked familiar." Harry admitted.
Bill looked at him sharply.
"It wasn't…" he began but Harry shook his head.
"No, he wasn't one of the four we fought in Cambodia." He said.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"I don't know, maybe I'm imagining it." He muttered.
Could the man have been at Malfoy Manor two nights ago?
There had been so many people. And if he'd been wearing a mask back then it would be impossible to identify him now.
"I think we should all go to bed" Molly whispered "And see what tomorrow brings."
"Yeah I think so too." Arthur agreed.
"Just one thing" Harry said quickly "Did they catch anyone of the Deatheaters?"
The grown-ups looked at each other.
"I don't know. But I doubt it. It was so sudden and unexpected, nobody knew what to do." Remus muttered.
Not totally unexpected, Harry thought bitterly, I knew. So did others.
But he just nodded.
"Alright, let's go." Sirius said.
Harry bid his goodbyes for now before Sirius, Remus and he flooed home.
Arriving in the living room Harry yawned.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He muttered.
He set to go but Sirius gently grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug.
"I'm so sorry that these things keep happening Harry." He muttered.
"Not your fault." Harry whispered back.
He hugged Remus too before running up the stairs to his room.
He collapsed onto his bed and was asleep in seconds.
But his night was haunted by that same dream he had remembered in the woods.
A dark mansion. The two men. The armchair.
And an old man walking through a dark hallway. And then a blinding, familiar, green light.
Harry woke sweating and panting, the dream again halfway forgotten.
.
.
…
.
.
The headline the next day in the Prophet was enough to spoil Harrys appetite.
Deatheaters Attack during the World Cup – Countless injured, even more shocked, is this the end of peace?
Of course it is you morons, Harry thought bitterly.
But maybe worse were the articles that proclaimed: 'Everything is well' and 'No need to panic'.
Fudge was trying to sweep it all under the rug, claiming that those hadn't been real Deatheaters.
As if.
Generally, the atmosphere was tense and subdued.
Not even the letter that arrived after lunch really lifted Harrys spirits.
Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you in good health.
I have heard what happened at the World Cup and a friend of mine told me you were injured? I hope you heeded my warning and did not seek conflict with the Deatheaters.
At any rate, that is not the only reason I write to you.
Elijah and I are both out of St. Mungo's and back home. We both are almost back on our feet and I am fairly confident by the end of the week we will be back to full health.
You are probably wondering who Isaac is faring.
Well to be honest, there has bene little progress but the again it's only been three days. The Healers only now begin to see the actual damage he has suffered and only now they will be able to determine whether they can help him or not. As for now he remains at St. Mungo's. But outside our family and a few selected Healers nobody knows.
I am almost thankful for the news coverage of the attack at the World Cup. That way it's easier to keep Isaac hidden for now.
And you are probably wondering how things will proceed from now on.
That is why I would like to meet with you before you leave for Hogwarts.
I would appreciate if you could tell me soon if and if so where and when we could meet. I know you do not want to go behind your godfathers back and I respect that. Maybe we can find a compromise.
Yours sincerely,
Victor Greengrass, Lord of House Greengrass.
It seemed like their work was only halfway done Harry mused as he put the letter into a small box on his desk, where he stored all his letters.
He then sat down to write an answer but he honestly couldn't think of anything to write so he started pacing through the room, picking up random pieces of clothes and throwing them in the hamper or throw them somewhere else.
Except for his invisibility cloak that lay on his bed, he picked it up and…
….hold it!
His invisibility cloak?
Harry reeled back wards.
No, that couldn't be!
He had lost it.
But…there it was! Neatly folded on the covers of his bed, it's silver fabric glistening in the sunlight.
"What the…" he muttered, picking it up again.
The cloak unravelled, falling down to the ground.
Harry swiftly pulled it around his shoulders and looked down.
Yep, this was definitely his invisibility cloak. His body was gone.
The cloak felt light as always and still fitted perfectly.
"How is this possible?" he murmured.
He took the cloak off and hurried downstairs.
Remus and Sirius were out on the porch, enjoying a beer while Remus read the Prophet and Sirius threw little pieces of dried bread at the squirrels in the trees.
"You know they will never leave again if you keep doing that." Remus just said in a slightly exasperated voice.
"We can always add an Anti-Squirrel-Ward if they bother us too much." Sirius said with a grin.
"Is there even such a thing?" Harry asked.
Sirius turned his head and grinned. "We'll have to ask Bill that but it would be a shame if not! We can't be the only ones with a squirrel problem!"
"I think we are the only ones because nobody else in the neighbourhood feeds them like you do. So of course they're all here!" Remus muttered.
"I could always turn into Padfoot and scare them away." Sirius said shrugging.
Harry grinned. He liked their banter.
It was like Hermione Ron and him in a way.
My dad was probably a part of that too, he thought for a second.
"Hey, what's the cloak for kid?" Sirius asked, noticing the cloak in his hands.
"I was wondering about something and thought you might know. You know, since it belong to my dad." Harry said, sitting down on Sirius's sun-lounger.
Remus put the Prophet aside, all ears.
"Ask away Harry." He said.
"I was tidying my room a bit and thought I had misplaced it and began searching for it. And then all of a sudden it just lay there on my bed. And before you ask, yes I looked there and I'm pretty sure it wasn't there before."
Sirius let out a loud laugh and even Remus chuckled a bit.
"Yeah, that's the good old invisibility cloak alright." Sirius smirked.
"You know Harry, we were good at pranking. Like, really good. But even we got caught every once in a while. And like the Map, Filch also ransacked the cloak once. James was in a right state, so worried was he. But, unlike the Map, the cloak reappeared after a day or two in our dorm on his bed. We were just as perplexed as you so we tested it and left the cloak in different places all across the castle. It always returned after a day or so to our dorm." Sirius told him.
"You see Harry, this cloak isn't like the other invisibility cloaks you can buy. This one is a really old relic of your family. It's been with the Potters for generations, even before they were Potters. It's old and powerful. And Charles, your grandfather, James's father, once told us that they suspected, that the cloak was a bit like a wand. It choses as master. That is usually the first-born son of the family. Others can use it too but it will always return to his master." Remus picked up the story.
"Oh." Said Harry awestruck. "If I'd known that in my fist year I could have avoided losing 150 points and a nasty detention in the Forbidden Forest." He muttered, remembering the time they had smuggled Norbert(a) out of the Castle.
"When your Dad died, you were still too young, the cloak hadn't bonded with you yet. Albus kept it safe for you until you were ready." Sirius said silently.
Harry nodded slowly.
"Thanks for telling me." He said. "Is it okay if I head over to the Burrow? Hermione is staying there until the end of the Holidays so I thought it would be nice if she and Ron and I could spend some time together."
"Sure, just be home before Dinner and be careful."
"I will, thanks guys."
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…
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AN: You really didn't think I would make Harry lose his cloak, did you? That thing is awesome. And important!
Love, Kate
