Author's Notes

-first things first i know this is fanfiction and I know you guys would probably want me to do my own thing but I copied and pasted half of the quidditch world cup in here. I'm not good at writing quidditch, I can see why jk doesn't really like it but it's really hard to do (especially when you aren't even a sports fan).

-i know this might seem very bland and boring but just bare with me. it'll get better I promise.

-i don't own hp

Harry followed the Weasleys into the stadium and he was amazed by the sight. There were so many wizards he couldn't keep count. There had to be hundreds maybe even thousands of wizards here. He followed the Weasleys up many made it to an area where everyone learned where their seats were.

"No need to worry about that," Mr. Weasley said. "Our seats are at the very top. With the Minister." Harry heard a little shriek come from Percy and everyone looked at him.

"Mental, I tell you," Ron said and Harry agreed. "Hey dad, can me, Harry and Hermione go and get some concessions?"

"Of course," Mr. Weasley said. "Be safe and make sure you get to the top box!" The three of them walked to the place selling food. Harry bought a fresh pizza with ham and pineapple. Ron bought a burger with fries and Hermione decided to go for just some fries. The three of them started to walk up to the box with the other Weasleys.

Ron's legs were longer so he was always the first one to reach the top of the stairs while Harry and Hermione took forever. They got to the top of the next staircase tired. "Ron you've got to stop walking so fast," Hermione said.

"Yeah, or else we're going to pass out before we even make it to the match," Harry added. The three continued to walk and eventually made it to the top box. They walked through the purple box until they were sitting right next to Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

"Dad, how long until it begins?" Ginny asked. They could all tell that they were all impatiently waiting for the beginning of the match.

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 heard shuffling behind him and saw the minister, with another wizard behind him.

"Oh and this is the top box Oblansk," Cornelius Fudge said. He was speaking slowly and loudly so that the man could understand. Harry guessed they were from another country. "Ludo, this is the Bulgarian minister."

A big round man with yellow on walked over to Oblansk and shook hands with him. "Nice to meet you," Ludo Bagman said. The Weasleys didn't care about the interaction and neither did Harry or Hermione.

The entire stadium was packed and Harry thought everyone in the Wizarding World had to be here. He turned around and saw three people walking into the top box. Two very familiar faces. Faces he had hated for so long. Draco Malfoy with his dad Lucius Malfoy and what Harry guessed was his mother. Draco and Harry made eye contact and Draco put on a smirk. Harry turned back around to ignore the boy.

"Oh if it isn't the Weasley's," Lucius Malfoy said loudly in order for every single redhead to hear him. Ginny turned around but doubled back real quickly. She didn't want to look at that man and Harry understood why. Fred and George both started to whisper to each other and looked at Draco who was standing pompously. Bill, Charlie, and Percy weren't bothered by the boy as they were all staring out into the stadium and talking amongst each other.

"Look, dad, he brought along the mudblood and scar boy," Draco said trying to impress his father.

It obviously worked because Lucius said, "Oh yes. If it isn't the famous Harry Potter."

Harry loathed this man very much. He was almost the direct cause of all the events that happened in Harry's second year. Harry turned around and so did all of the Weasleys. Lucius Malfoy sat right behind Harry and whispered in his ear, "It's nice to see you, Mr. Potter."

Harry shuddered at the sound but he didn't do anything. He just scooted closer to the railing of the box.

"Alright is everyone ready?" Ludo Bagman asked.

"Ready when you are," Cornelius said.

"Sonorus!" Ludo shouted and then his voice magnified. "Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Applause filled the stadium and Harry didn't know if anything could make a louder noise. He was amazed by the sheer loudness of it all. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!"

A broom flew straight into the air and Harry guessed that was Dimitrov. "Ivanova." Another broom flew into the air. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — Krum!"

Brooms after brooms flew into the air. When the final broom went into the air indicating that Viktor Krum

"And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs. "And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

Hassan Mostafa walked onto the field and with a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet with the Quaffle, taken by Dimitrov. He throws it to the goal and it's… blocked by Ryan!" Harry saw that Ryan had done a bit of a victory lap around the goals. "And it's Mullet with the Quaffle again. Oh and he slips it out. Ivanova grabs hold of it. He passes it to Levski. But he's hit by a Bludger! Ooh, that one has to hurt."

Harry was amazed by the game. This game was ten times better than Hogwarts games. Harry noticed before anyone in the top box that Krum was no longer just gliding around. He obviously saw the Snitch and he was flying upward in order to catch it.

"Well, would you look at that? It seems that Krum has noticed the Snitch," Bagman screamed so that his voice would fill the entire stadium. "And Lynch is now following!"

The two wizards kept flying until they both stopped in midair. The Snitch had escaped them.

Harry took out his omnioculars and finally decided to put them to use. 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 from 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, caught it —

"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 sulkily.

Furious 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 supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as 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 Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

The game was brutal and Ireland ended up being up by 130 points so that the score was BULGARIA: 10, IRELAND: 140.

"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 airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was —

"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: 140 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.

The game was over. Bulgaria had won. Ron was in a screaming fit and he kept jumping up and down. "They won! They won!"

"And with that folks, Bulgaria wins!" Bagman yelled.

"Vell ve von. I'm thinking of having drinks tonight," Oblansk said.

"You can speak English!" Cornelius said. He looked exasperated. Oblansk on the other hand was laughing loudly. The stadium started to be emptied. The Weasleys along with Harry and Hermione walked out of the top box in order to get back to their tent. They made their way through the stands.

They made it to the ten and Harry immediately crashed onto his bed. That was the best game he had ever seen. Today was the best day ever.

Author's Notes

-I know that Ireland won but I had to do something so I changed it up a bit. i hope you guys aren't mad at me