When the time came, everyone flooded out of their tents and flooded into the woods where they followed a lantern-lit trail. The sounds of laughter, shouting and singing were heard all around. The air around them was electrified with excitement and anticipation; Rastaban and the others couldn't stop from grinning, joking and laughing. Eventually they found the large stadium standing tall, shimmering gold.
"Seats a hundred thousand." Mr. Weasley said, "A task force of five hundred from the Ministry have been working on it all year."
"There's the entrance!" Dora exclaimed as she pointed at where witches and wizards were flooding into.
They entered the stadium and walked up the purple carpeted stairs. The flood of wizards slowly parted as they climbed up the stairs. Eventually they reached the top of the stairs. They walked through a door entering a small box. Looking out into the stadium they saw that they were sitting at the highest point of the stadium, the halfway line of the pitch. A little over twenty purple and gilt chairs were lined in the box.
Harry and the Weasley's flooded into the front seats while Rastaban and the Tonks' sat in the second row. The teen was mesmerized by the size of the stadium, the infinite colors and the sheer amount of wizards in the stands.
Feeling a warm breath, Rastaban raised his hand up to his nape. He looked around and found no one next to or behind him. He blinked, confused, "Is everything alright?" Dora asked, placing a hand on his arm.
He looked around one more time, ". . .It's nothing." He shrugged with a smile.
"Dobby?" Harry's shocked voice got everyone's attention.
Rastaban looked over and saw a small house-elf sitting two seats to his left. The small house elf looked up at Harry with big brown eyes, "Did sir just call me Dobby?" Her voice squeaked.
"Sorry. . .I just thought you were someone I knew." Harry sounded disappointed.
"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" The elf quickly replies from behind her hands, "My name is Winky, sir. . .and you, sir. . ." Her large eyes widened as she spotted Harry's eyes, "You is surely Harry Potter!"
That's who's breath he must've felt. Winky was so small he didn't see her at first.
Harry nodded, "Yes I am."
"But Dobby talks about you all the time, sir!" She said, lowering her hands to see Harry more clearly.
"How is he?" Harry asked, suddenly enthusiastic, "How's freedom suiting him?"
". . .ah sir." The elf shook her head, "Meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."
"Why?" Asked Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"
"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir, " said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir. "
"Why not?" said Harry.
Winky lowered her voice, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."
"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well. . .why shouldn't he be paid?"
It suddenly occurred to Rastaban that Harry didn't know much about house elves. House elves were unconditionally loyal to their masters as well as their family. Despite this loyalty they were extremely cunning and observant. Whenever a house elf is mistreated or holds resentment for their master they often find loopholes in the orders of their masters. If a wizard wishes undying loyalty from an elf they must simply treat them fairly and properly.
"House-elves is not paid, sir!" She squeaked, "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says 'go find yourself a nice family and settle down' Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf." Rastaban had an amused look on his face, "'You goes racketing around like this, Dobby' I says 'and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin'."
Harry simply shrugged, "Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun." This gained a chuckled from Rastaban.
"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said the house-elf firmly, "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter. . ." She glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped, "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."
"He wanted you here even though you're afraid of heights?" Rastaban asked skeptically, "Isn't that. . .cruel?"
"Master wants me to save him a spot, sir." Winky said, indicating to the empty seat between her and Rastaban, "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, sir, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."
She looked over the edge of the box before she looked frightened and hid behind her hands. Harry blinked at the elf before turning back around.
Noticing the elf shaking Rastaban asked, "Who's your master?"
"Winky's master is Bartemius Crouch Sr, sir, of the noble house of Crouch." Winkey said proudly, "Master is a good master."
Before he could continue the conversation Dora pulled on his arm, "Aster pay attention!"
The seats around them were steadily being taken. Mr. Weasley, Percy and Ted would constantly stand and shake hands with whoever entered the box. They stood up and sat down so much that Aster and Dora began to keep count. Eventually Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, arrived. Percy Weasley bowed so low his glasses fell from his face and broke. Dora burst out laughing, her laugh was so infectious that Rastaban soon joined in. Percy's face turned beat red in embarrassment before he repaired his glasses with his wand. Fudge then greeted Harry as if he was an old friend causing Percy to throw a jealous look at Harry.
Dora leaned over and whispered, "Of course Fudge would schmooze the Boy Who Lived."
Rastaban shoved her, "Be nice."
"What? I'm just saying." She muttered.
After a laughable introduction to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. The group continued to focus on the crowd around them.
"Ahh, and here's Lucius!" Fudge exclaimed.
Rastaban froze at the mention of his uncle. He looked to his right to see the Malfoys. His uncle Lucia's, cousin Draco and his aunt Narcissa. He could see his aunt Andromeda struggling to keep her eyes on the field below. Andromeda had a fallout with her family when she married Ted. What hurt the most was that her sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix, turned their backs on her as well.
Rastaban had a complicated relationship with his aunt's family. They would send owls with letters, gifts and offers of staying at Malfoy Manor for Christmas, Easter or any other holiday they could think of. He would send them polite denials or he would simply not reply. At Hogwarts, Draco attempted to get Rastaban to join his little group with Crab and Goyle but he openly rejected him in the Slytherin Common Room. This gained him a few laughs from their housemates and Draco's wrath. His cousin spent the next three years throwing insults at him, shoving him and just being an all around wanker.
"Ah, Fudge." Lucius shook the minister's hand, "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa, or our son, Draco?"
"How do you?" Fudge greeted them, bowing to Narcissa, "Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk. . . Obalonsk. . . Mr. . . well he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyways."
Lucius' eyes landed on Arthur, "Good lord, Arthur. What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
Rastaban's face turned red with embarrassment and anger.
Fudge, who was oblivious to the exchange, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's for Hospital Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
Mr. Weasley gave the minister a strained smile, "How nice."
Lucius' eyes landed on Hermione who's gaze never faltered as she stared right back. His gaze then shifted to Ted who only gave him a mocking smile. His lip curled back in disgust. Hermione and Ted were muggle-born and to someone like Lucius they were second-class. He wouldn't do anything distasteful in front of the minister but the look on his face was as plain as day.
Finally his gaze landed on Rastaban, "Ah, nephew, very good to see you again."
Rastaban swallowed down his pride and gave his uncle a polite smile, "Yes, uncle Lucius."
"It's been too long. Your aunt Narcissa wishes to see more of you, you know." He states as Rastaban watches his aunt settle into her chair.
"I'm sure she does." Rastaban replied.
"Come Lucius, sit." Fudge insisted, "The game is about to start."
Lucius gave the minister a nod before he looked down at Rastaban, "I mean it. We hope to see more of you." He said partingly before he went to his seat with Draco on his tail who gave the group a scornful glare.
Rastaban closed his eyes as he let out an exasperated breath. He blinked his eyes open when he felt a hand over his own. He looked up to see Dora giving him a sympathetic look. He gave her a grateful smile before he looked ahead just in time to see Harry's head dart around towards the field. Rastaban dismissed the strange action as he paid more attention to the game ahead.
Ludo Bagman stood ahead of their seats as he whipped out his wand. Putting his wand to his throat he spoke, "Sonorus!" His voice boomed over the roar of the crowd. Rastaban slammed his hands over his ears at the sudden sound, "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
The crowd roared once again as they waved flags, shirts and even sang their national anthems. Rastaban looked amazed as he took multiple pictures of the crowd. The large blackboard across from them read BULGARIA; 0, IRELAND; 0.
"And without further ado, please alow to introduce the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!' Ludo announced.
Everyone one in black and scarlet, including Rastaban and Dora, cheered in excitement.
"Looks like they got Veela." Rastaban said to Dora.
"What are Veel-" Harry's voice faded as his gaze landed on the Veela.
Rastaban and Dora laughed as he watched Harry, Ron and the others become entranced by the beauty of the Veela. They were consumed by the movements of the Veela. Rastaban remained unaffected as he wasn't attracted to women.
Rastaban looked around to see almost all of the men had been entranced by the Veela. He scoffed before he leaned over to Dora, "Is this what you mean when you say 'boys are dim'?"
Dora laughed, "Definitely."
The pair laughed before they saw Harry slowly getting to his feet. Ratsaban smirked before rolling his eyes. He leaned over and grabbed Harry by his collar and yanked him back, "Back to your seat."
Harry blinked in confusion before he looked back at Aster, "What just happened?"
Dora slapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, "You, sir, have just been entranced by the magic of Veela."
Aster leaned in to speak into Harry's ear, "Don't fret Harry, it happens to most boys."
"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Ron's face, snapping him out of the trance.
"Why weren't you affected?" Harry asked curiously.
Rastaban only shrugged, "Let's just say I have a certain immunity to Veela."
Harry gave him a curious look before he simply nodded. Aster had a sigh of relief. Harry seemed nice but sometimes even the nicest people weren't all that of accepting Rastaban's. . .way of life. He hopes Harry and his friends weren't like that in anyway but Aster decided it better to be safe than sorry.
Ludo went on with introductions, "Now put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team Mascots!"
A shining ball of green and gold barreled down from the sky as if aiming to crash into the pitch. Before it could collide it veered off to the side before it circled the stadium from above. It then split into two balls with an arching rainbow connecting them. The sight of it captivated the audience. Once the rainbow faded the two balls collide in a display of green and gold fireworks as a shimmering green shamrock appeared
A warm breath over his neck pulled his attention away from the display. Rastaban looked over to the seat next to him to find no one again. He turned towards the pitch once again with a sense of unease.
Throughout the game from the introductions to the brawl of the mascots and even during Krum's catching of the snitch he felt as if someone was watching him. He would glance over his shoulder at his uncle and aunt to find none of them were paying him any mind. Sometimes he thought he heard someone's heavy breathing but none of the people around him seemed particularly out of breath.
When the final ended with Ireland being the victor he felt a sense of relief when they got up from their seats. Rastaban remained glued to Dora's side as they made their way back to the campsite. He glanced around the crowd flooding down the trail in case he could find the source of his discomfort. When they returned to the tent he hardly said two words to the others when he ran up the stairs.
While Rastaban absentmindedly changed into his pajamas Harry came up the stairs with two cups of cocoa in his hands. He had noticed that Rastaban had been silent the entire game and never once took a photo. Even now as he finished changing he looks nervous.
Rastaban's dark eyes shot up when Harry learned his throat, "Hot cocoa?" He offered, holding up the two mugs, "Your aunt asked me if I could bring you up one."
The boy gave Harry a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Thank you." He took the mug from Harry's left hand, "Sorry for the inconvenience."
Rastaban set the mug down on the nightstand between the two beds. Harry watched as he picked up and opened a book. He moved to leave but he hesitated. As he debated to himself whether or not to leave Rastaban the boy noticed his dilemma.
"Harry, are you ok?" He asked curiously.
"I'm fine." Harry quickly replied, "It's just. . ." He sighed, not quite knowing what to say, "During the final you didn't seem as excited as I thought you would or take any pictures. I was just wondering if you're alright?"
"You noticed." It wasn't a question.
Harry moved so that he sat across Rastaban on the other bed. He put down his cocoa next to his and stated, "Was it Malfoy and his parents?"
"I'll admit they did put a damper on my mood but they're not the reason why I wasn't. . ." He sighed as he looked back down at his book. Rastaban chuckled, "You'll think I'm crazy."
Harry blinked, confused, "Why would I think you're crazy?"
"You wouldn't be the first." He gave Harry a sad smile, "Everyone is just waiting for the day I snap and start fighting for You-Know-Who." Rastaban blinked in shock at what he just said, "I'm sorry that must be a hard subject for you, I'm sorry." He quickly apologized, "I'll just. . .I don't know." Rastaban's cheeks flushed pink as he sighed in frustration, "I'll stop talking." He picked up his mug and drank his cocoa.
Harry watches Rastaban in amusement. No one really considers his feelings about Voldemort. Everyone just asks him about his scar or how he bested him. Rastaban must go through something similar if half of what Ron said is true.
"So what happened during the final?" Harry asked.
Rastaban lowered the mug from his lips and paused. He cleared his throat, "You'll think I'm mad. But since you seem so invested." He returned his mug back to its place, "I. . .I thought I felt someone watching me and. . .I felt someone breathing on me and I think I heard them too but I couldn't see them."
Harry was immediately concerned, "Do you have any idea who it was?"
Rastaban shook his head, "I thought it could be Dora playing a prank on me but she usually stops when she sees that I'm genuinely frightened. Also there was no one sitting to my left and the wizard behind me seemed too distracted by the game." He let out a humorless laugh, "Perhaps they are right. Maybe I am going mad. It sounds mad doesn't it? Who would believe me?"
"I believe you." Harry replied simply much to Rastaban's astonishment, "It wouldn't be the strangest thing I've heard before."
He scoffed out a laugh, "Like a baby defeating a dark wizard?"
Rastaban wore a face of shock once more. He went to apologize but he was interrupted by Harry's laughter. A second later he joined Harry in on the laughter. They laughed for another moment before they got their bearings.
"Everyone, time for bed!" Andromeda's voice came from the ground floor.
"I guess that's it for today." Rastaban said as he set his book down. He pulled down the covers over his bed, "Goodnight, Harry."
Harry nodded as he stood up, "Goodnight, Rastaban."
Rastaban laid down on the bed and pulled the sheets over his body. He shuffled around a bit before he finally got comfortable. He rested his head on the fluffy pillow and sighed. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to sleep before he heard the gentle thumping of footsteps.
His dark eyes blinked open as he saw Harry take residence in the bed across from him. Rastaban was confused as to what he was doing so he asked, "Harry what are you doing? I thought you were bunking with Ron."
"I asked Charlie if we could switch." Harry replied as he pulled the sheets over himself, "How else are we going to talk?"
"Why would you want to talk to me?" Rastaban asked.
Harry seemed to think for a moment before he replied, "Why wouldn't I?"
He shrugged, "Well people aren't exactly forming a line to speak to the son of two Death Eaters."
"Good." He replied, "That means no one can interrupt us."
He was astounded by Harry's attitude before he relented, "What do you want to talk about?"
"Anything." Harry replied.