So… many… stairs… I thought to myself as we neared to top. One would think that I'd be excited to be here at the 422nd Quidditch World Cup final in some of the best seats in the stadium. But to be totally honest, I wasn't sure if quidditch was really my thing. But it did beat sitting a home and doing absolutely nothing.
The last twenty-seven days have been long and mind-numbing dull. Draco was used to spending his summers wandering around the Manor aimlessly, but I on the other hand, I hadn't had this much free time since before I went to New York. The Junior Politics Program kept me very busy and when I wasn't studying, I was forced to appear at these lame social events with my grandfather.
Well, not every day at the Manor was as boring as I make it sound. The day I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter for one was a pretty fantastic day. As was the day after when my mother took Draco and I to Diagon Alley, a place I had been dying to see since I first learned about magic and Hogwarts. I did feel kind of sad when I walked past Ollivanders knowing I'd likely never buy a wand from him. He made some of the best wands, I knew that. But when I had gotten mine, I'd been living in New York and so bought off some American wizard. Oh, and of course there was that dinner which my father had told Draco and I about the event happening this year at Hogwarts…
"Keep moving," my mother hissed from behind me, interrupting my thoughts. I had to bite my lip to restrain from making some smart aleck comment. I had been climbing for like a million years and to say my legs were sore was an understatement.
After what felt like forever, we finally reached the top box. It was packed, mostly with important wizards, even the Minister of Magic himself who seemed to have just noticed my father walk in.
"…ah, and here's Lucius," he said with a smile. I followed my father and brother through the second row to four still-empty seats directly behind a family of red-heads I could only presume to be the Weasley family. Three had turned around at the mention of my father's name, though only one of them was actually a red-head. The other two were a brunette girl and a dark-haired boy – far from the Weasley description. Then I noticed what was the thin shape of a scar on the dark-haired boy's forehead. That was when I realised. Harry Potter was sitting in the seat in front of me.
"Ah, Fudge," my father said, holding out his hand as he reached the Fudge. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or my children, Draco and Leaena?"
"How do you do, how do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said, smiling and bowing to my mother. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk – Oblansk – Mr. – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else – you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched the much?" At first I was taken aback. I had not expected my own father to be that rude to another human being!
"Lucius had just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
"How – how nice," Arthur Weasley said, and I could see he at least was trying to hide how much he detested my father. And frankly, I couldn't blame him.
I was still comprehending my father's awful rudeness when he did yet another thing that made me frown. His eyes had shifted to the brunette girl I knew was the Granger girl, friend of Harry Potter. And I knew exactly why my father's lips had curled. Granger's parents may be Muggles but why should that make her any different?
I was just grateful he didn't dare say anything else and instead nodded once to Mr. Weasley before moving down the line towards our seats. Even Draco refined from doing anything but glare at the three friends with such an insolence for a moment I had actually feared he'd start hexing them despite being underaged.
We took our seats, Draco and I in the middle with my mother on my left and my father on Draco's right. There we waited for the game to begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome!" The wizard, Ludo Bagman shouted, his voice echoing through the stadium. "Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"