Chapter 2: The Vasile Feint
Finally, the day to go to the Quidditch Match came, even slower than the previous times. Harry was very glad that the day came at last -- he was tired of waiting, after doing that for two weeks. The previous day he had thought of his life at Hogwarts for more than five hours, and it came to great relief to see that it was July, 26th. Only five days to his birthday...
...and five hours until the Weasleys were to collect him. Harry saw that it was eleven o'clock already("Oy! I missed breakfast!").
He had been looking forward to this day since he recieved Ron's first letter telling about the new Quidditch World Cup. That was the chance of leaving the Duesleys -- didn't matter for how long -- And now that only five hours separated him from seeing Hogwarts again, seconds passed like minutes - he was wondering who he was going to the castle.
And finally, Harry heard a knock on his door. He opened it and saw Vernon, who called him, "Come, boy! Someone's here to take you!"
Harry just relieved to see that Ron was at the door and didn't come in a 'destructive' way. Vernon and Petunia went to the kitchens so they wouldn't have anything to do with the Weasleys, and Harry went outside.
The only one who was there was Ron, no Mr. Weasley; no Mrs. Weasley, no one. He was grinning to his ears, and took a plug from his pocket. Harry knew that Mr. Weasley had enough of those, he was collecting Muggle objects -- and plugs were his favourite.
"This is a Portkey. It is supposed to bring us to the Burrow, and from there we have another portkey to bring us to Hogwarts."
"Your father had done that only for us?" asked Harry surprised. He had thought Portkeys were controlled by the Ministry... but then he remembered how law-abiding Mr. Weasley was. He had once bewitched a car to fly, and he did it in secret because it was against the law. Everyone thought he was just inspecting it, to see how it was created by Muggles, but he wasn't exactly doing that. He had bewitched each part of it and then re-assembled it. Fred, George and Ron came to collect him in his second year with that car.
"I wonder why the game is at Hogwarts," said Ron looking away from the Portkey.
"No idea," said Harry staring at a plane in the sky. At first he thought it was a broomstick.
"Go, Harry, and take what you need for the Quidditch Match!"
"I won't need anything else than a visit to Gringotts..." he said, and saw Ron turning a little sadder. Harry knew that the thing eating him was being poor. Harry felt guilty for saying that, and remembering Ron that he was poor, while Harry had a considerable amount of gold in his vault.
"Well, let's go to the Burrow," said Ron, "Come on, touch the plug."
Harry did so, and he felt again the feeling of bring transported by a portkey. He had a whirling feeling, though it wasn't as bad as the one he had while travelling via floo Powder.
And then, he saw all the Weasleys in front of him. Everyone was home, prepared to leave for the Quidditch Cup; even Bill and Charlie. They were looking at Harry before saying, "Heya Harry."
"Hello," Harry answered, and then Mrs. Weasley walked to him. "Dears, we will leave very soon... so get ready everyone. So how are things, Harry dear?"
"As usual," he said, and then the sense of guilt for Errol's death came to him. "Oh,, take these... I owe you," he said, searching his pockets for some Galleons.
"Don't, Harry," she said, not even thinking about taking money from Harry. And he knew that Mrs. Weasley wasn't exactly like Fred and George, so he couldn't threaten her that he would curse her if she wouldn't accept the money.
"I have to..."
"No, Harry! It's our fault, we should have bought another owl before..."
Harry gave up, and after he said hello to everyone, he went to Fred and George's room and asked them what they were doing with the money he gave them.
"We've been doing great," Fred assured him, "Thank you."
"We couldn't have made it so far without what you gave us," George continued, "-- in less than a month we have succesfully made up lots of new... er - things."
"I still think I didn't deserve the money, so don't thank me.. The money should have been Cedric's."
"Yes, but they aren't!" said George, and Harry knew that George didn't know what he was talking about -- it more looked like he wanted to give the money back, or to make Harry feel better. But, seeing at the mode Harry stared at him, he realized what he had just said, and added, "Thank you anyway."
Then they heard Mr. Weasley calling them all. "EVERYONE IN THE KITCHEN!"
Harry, Fred and George left the room for the kitchens, knowing that Mr. Weasley had already set the Portkey. Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Percy were already there. Harry saw that Ginny was still avoiding his's eyes. She had a crush on him since she first saw him -- and it still hadn't passed.
"Charlie? Bill? Ron?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a loud voice.
"We're coming, mum!" Ron's voice echoed through the halls. Soon, he was in the room, with the oldest Weasley brothers near him.
While waiting for everyone to get prepared, Hary overheard a talk between Mr. Weasley and Percy, and he found out that there was a complete confusion at the Ministry. Everything was unusual, people disappearing, lots of people were gone and they had no replacements... everything was the worst possible, and Harry imagined that it should have been the same as it was fourteen years ago, before Voldemort's downfall.
Finally, everything was set. It was five o'clock, and they had crowded around the portkey, before touching it. And, the second time that day, he felt the familiar feeling of travelling by a portkey...
They were there. Loads of tents were placed in many different spots on the Hogwarts grounds, and the castle was raising gloriously in a distance as it had always been. Still, he hadn't seen any known persons, and a short time after, Mr. Weasley placed the tent.
As all the wizard tents, it was small when looking from outside, and very big from the inside; containing several quite large rooms for everyone.
Everyone remained inside the tent, but Harry and Ron didn't. They wanted to go for a walk, to see the castle again, and they saw how quiet the castle was when no one was inside it -- except, maybe, professor Dumbledore, Harry thought. People kept coming with portkeys, because they couldn't apparate on Hogwarts Grounds. The castle itself was unusually quiet... he had never seen it in a summer before.
Walking on the grounds, he thought about the nice time he had when he was there - except when Malfoy was annoying him. Hogwarts was his real home, and he wished he could stay there over the summer...
Ron was talking to Harry about the Quidditch game they were to see only one hour later. "I can't wait to see how the players are gonna play this time! It won't be as good as the Final, but it will be exciting..." said Ron for the hundredth time. Harry was starting to not pay attention to Ron's usual words. Even if he was just as interrested and anxious as Ron to see the match, he was getting bored of tlaking about only one thing.
Then he saw, in a distance, none other than Cho -- she was sitting on front of a tent, looking around. Harry's mind was not paying attention to Ron anymore at all -- he looked at her and he wondered why his mind seemed empty for a while.
"Harry?" asked Ron, "Are you alright?" Harry gave a start. He looked at Ron, not knowing what to tell him.
"I'm fine."
"Er - Okay," continued Ron before turning silent for the first time since they came up to Hogwarts.
They were walking towards their tent, and just then Harry saw that Cho's tent was quite close to the Weasley's one. Ron entered their tent, and Harry sat on the grass near the exit("I'll come in later," he told Ron). And then, Cho spotted him, and Harry saw that she was not sad anymore as she was at the end of the last term. He could clearly remember how tears were falling on her face... Harry guessed that she was the person who most suffered after his death, except for his parents.
"Hello, Harry!" she said, waving her hand towards him.
"Hi," he continued, wondering what she was thinking about what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.
"So... How are things?" she asked, and Harry noticed that she was smiling.
"How can they be when you're living with a family of Muggles who detest magic?" he answered, thinking about how much he wanted to leave the Dursleys again.
"Oh," she said, "Sorry..."
"Don't be..." said Harry, and then he remained silent. Lots of times in the summer, his mind slipped to Cho, and he was now talking to her... he never thought he would be talking to her that soon.
"I wonder what will happen in this Quidditch Game," she continued seeing that Harry wasn't saying anything. Harry saw one of his fellow Gryffindors, Dean Thomas, with his mother. But he forgot about him quickly and went back to talking with Cho, thing that he considered much more interresting.
"Dunno," he answered, "But who is playing anyway? I think I am the only one here who doesn't know..."
Cho smiled even more, almost laughing at the thing that Harry didn't know that. Then, she answered, very cheerful, "Norway versus Romania. Everyone knows that Norway will win - I think no one wanted to bet on Romania -- I heard they never actually won a match before. The romanians have a very bad team... I heard that they have some very stupid players right now... They don't even have enough money to get Firebolts."
"Okay," Harry said, and immediately after, he was called by someone. Harry turned back to see who it was, and saw in the first room of the tent that Mr. Weasley was holding a piece of paper.
"Harry!" he said, "It is for you..."
"What is that?" he asked, while he stood up and walked to take the parchment.
"It's a letter from the England's Quidditch team..." he said, looking very couriously at it.
"Well, bye," Harry said to Cho, who replied, "It was nice to meet you, Harry!".
Harry went to Mr. Weasley, who was reading silently the letter. He gave it to Harry. "Read it loud, mind it, Harry?"
"Okay." And then, he proceeded to reading the letter, so Mr. Weasley could hear him.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am Jack Niffler, the Captain of the England's National Quidditch Team. I came once to one Quidditch Game in your third year, and I saw your great flying abilities. You would make a very good seeker for the national team. Send me a letter saying if you will accept to play for our team.
Jack Niffler,
Captain of the English National Quidditch team.
Both Harry and Mr. Wesaley remained silent. He couldn't believe it - he, Harry Potter, the seeker of England's national team? But he was only fifteen! How was he going to play?
The answer was very clear - 'no'. Harry still had to stay three more years at Hogwarts... It wasn't possible to be able to play at the national team while he was at school, was it?
Yes, it was. He remembered that Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, was still at the Durmstrang Institute. Harry had met him last year at Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament.
And, the thought came back to his head - was he good enough for the national team? He had never thought of that. He wondered if there was a player as young as him that played at a national team before. He already was the youngest seeker of the century, couldn't he be the youngest wizard to play in a national quidditch team?
Yet, that was the only thing he was very good at... He could consider to be Quidditch player in his future... so he had to decide to accept or to decline what Jack Niffler asked him. He said to himself that he would think of that...
"Cool!" he heard Ron say loud. Harry understood that Mr. Weasley told everyone what the letter said. "Harry! Come in the kitchen!" He had nothing to do except that, so he followed advice and went to the kitchen... perhaps he will decide with the other Weasleys if to accept or not. Then he entered into the kitchen, and the first one he saw was Ron, jumping and --
"Harry!" said Ron again, with a facial expression Harry had never seen before at him. He looked very happy of that - Harry wondered if he ever saw Ron happier than that time. "Is that true?"
Harry took the letter and showed it to Ron. "I can't believe it," said Harry still in a quite low voice. He wasn't as Happy as Ron was. It was a very hard thing to play in the national team...
"Why are you sad?" Ron asked him.
"I'm not sad... but I don't think I can be a good Quidditch Player."
"C'mon, Harry! If the captain of the team said it, then you really must be a good player! And we all have seen you - You would make an excellent seeker -- even if we are talking about the English Team..."
But Harry hadn't cheered up; even with that he didn't consider himself good enough for the national team.
"Time to go, boys," announced Mrs. Weasley. "It's almost seven o'clock! Let's go! But we won't stay after eleven o'clock, because we will need to sleep sometimes."
Ron then burst out in exasperation, "SLEEP? AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP?"
Everyone went silent. Harry had never seen Ron shout like that at his mother, and he was sure that was a first. Even Mrs. Weasley was confused about that. Harry felt like Ron was going to be in trouble... because he knew how his mother could be when angry - he remembered lsat year when she found out that Fred and George had lots of 'joke shop sweets' hidden in their pockets. Not to forget in his second year when she caught them flying the car...
"Ron, dear," said Mr. Weasley, but then he stopped. Ron had an I-shouldn't-have-done-that look, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand him. They all left the tent in silence.
They soon were near the entrance to the Hogwarts Quidditch Field. He saw that it was much larger than before, they casted lots of spells to make it like that - Harry was sure that ten thousand people could fit in there, ten more times than usual.
It was a very large crowd at the front of the doors. "Just wait until they will all enter, we have reserved tickets," added Mrs. Weasley, "I have tickets to the Top Box this year, too... It is good to be a friend with everyone."
When they found their seats, the match was about to begin. Bagman was commentating, as he did last year. He was close to the Weasleys, so they heard him saying "Sonorus!", casting a spell that magnified his voice so that everyone in the stadium could hear him.
"Welcome, to the first match of the Quidditch World Cup! Norway versus Rooomaniaaaa!" he announced. "First person who enters the stadium is our referee, coming all way from Egypt, Hassan Mostafa!" The crowd could see Mostafa flying in the middle of the Stadium. Then, Bagman called the names of the players from both teams. The first ones who entered the stadium were the romanians.
"Petrescu! Moldovan! Dobrean! Moga! Nicolae! Campean! Aaaand Timofte!" the Romanian players entered on the field, a few members of the crowd cheering up. There were many Romanian supporters, but not as many as the Norwegians, whose team came, too, to the field, while Bagman shouted the names, "Jensen, Antonsen, Hansen, Nilsen, Tveit, Simonsen and Knutsen".
Harry could see the scoreboard, still advertising on different things("DREAM TOFFEE - Eat and think about something, and it will happen in a dream the next time you will fall asleep!"). The huge board was magically created when the stadium was enlarged, Harry couldn't remebmer seeing it when they reached Hogwarts earlier on that day.
"Mostafa is riding his new broomstick, the prototype of the RazorBroom! The new broomstick is slightly better than the Firebolt," commentated Bagman, while Harry was trying to have a better look at the referee's broomstick. "Mostafa had let the balls out! The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!"
Harry noticed that it was a very strange Quidditch game, maybe the strangest he had ever seen. It was not looking like pofessional Quidditch as the Ireland vs. Bulgaria game was. The norwegians flew a little at the beginning but stopped noticing that the romanians were like frozen. The players looked like they didn't do any effort to win. The chasers slowly flew chasing the Quaffle, and the Beaters only knocked down Bludgers when they rushed towards them; no effort to save the other team members' skins. But what was happening?
Bagman stopped. "Something wrong?" he asked, the question addressed to the players. But they ignored it...
Then Harry noticed that the norwegian team started a slightly faster game. But the romanians still didn't bother to do anything. The game continued like that, with no scoring. The romanian keeper was the only player on the field who seemed to have any activity(except the norwegians who were still distracted - they were playing bad only because the romanians started like that). He had a little job to do, giving the game a little dynamical aspect. He seemed to be a good keeper, but the other players were too... calm. They flew like they were only enjoying a slow walk with the broomstick... no Quaffle chasing, not at all...
"For God's sake! What is this?" asked Bagman, his voice echoing to every spot of the stadium. "I've never seen anything like this! Both of the teams look... like, er - how to say it - dead. They're doing nothing!"
Then, the norwegian team started playing slightly better, again. Still, the romanian players were just like before: flying with the speed of a snail. It was something really weird.
"The norwegian team plays slightly better... Hansen has the Quaffle. Antonsen, Jensen. The Quaffle is now in Antonsen's hands, he passes to Hansen... The game seems to be more real - but no, the romanians are still like - frozen."
A bludger hit one of the romanian chasers, and he yelled a loud "AH!" but then, he was back to his 'frozen' state. "Wow! What was that? Moldovan was hit straight in the stomach by a bludger, but he is still standing frozen! What is the romanian team -- we should call the mediwizards --"
"NOW!" shouted one of the romanian players. He was the seeker, and the team captain, too. "LET'S DO IT!"
Then, suddenly, Petrescu sped up towards the norwegian chaser who had the quaffle and brutally took it. The norwegian chaser who previously posessed the quaffle was looking confused at Petrescu who was flying with a higher speed than the Razorbroom's. The entire team started to act like a strong hurricane - they were very fast, violent and they seemed to play like berserk - no one could see what they were doing, but it looked like suicide. Everything a person could see was some fast-moving points, and Harry, as much as he bothered to watch the game, didn't manage it. The romanians were even hitting each other -- no wonder why, thinking of their very high speed, it was very hard to be careful. And, they looked like they were glued to the broomsticks. Something very unusual was happening.
At first, they were feozen, and after some time, they started to move like hurricanes. What was up to them, no one could tell.
"Petrescu! Dobrean! Petrescu again - Dobrean, Moldovan... Petrescu -- no, it was Dobrean - damn, this is too fast." The romanians were, compared to the norwegians, like tanks compared to swordsmen. Everyone thought that the norwegians would beat up the romanians with a flattening score, but it was exactly the opposite...
"SCORE FOR ROMANIA!" shouted Bagman, sounding very confused too. "The norwegians are going to lose the match as they nad never done it before -- I think the score is about three hundred to zero, after all these --"
CRASH.
A norwegian player was speeding to the ground, and that loud crashing sound was caused by a collision with one of the romanians. He reached the ground and there was another crash. "TIME-OUT!" shouted Bagman after Mostafa whistled. "Hansen is down, he fell down from more than sixty feet -"
A pack of mediwizards sped up to the spot where the norwegian chaser fell. The rest of the norwegian team crowded around Hansen, too. No one from the stands could see anything that was happening down there.
Meanwhile, the romanian team went to the middle of the field. They were talking about something - surely plans for the next part of the match. All of them were very pleased by what happened. There was something up to them, something dirty, Harry thought.
Five minutes passed from the accident, and a mediwizard got out of the crowded place around the fallen player. He had a tragic look on his face - and announced, "I think Hansen is..."
Harry immediately knew what the mediwizard meant. He didn't look like he liked saying that word. "Dead?" asked Knutsen.
"I am very sorry, but, yes - he is dead."
"HANSEN IS DEAD!" roared Bagman in desperation. "That rarely happens to a Quidditch game!"
The norwegian captain was talking with Mostafa. After a short time, Mostafa whistled six times.
"Mostafa whistled six times! At Knutsen's request, the game is cancelled!"
Then, Mostafa flew towards Bagman, and after a short talk he announced "The game was cancelled by the Norwegian captain, Knutsen. They have surrendered, and Romania wins the game... after barely ten minutes in the game!"
"WHAT?" asked Harry.
"Calm down, Harry," Mr. Wesaley told him, "The norwegians wanted that because they saw how dirty the romanians were playing! If they didn't do so, the entire team was likely to die... And no one would want that, would they?"
After that, both teams went up to the top box, the box where Harry was in. He could hear the teams talking. Some of the players were having very interresting subjects -
"...you did the Vasile Feint excellently, all of you!" said the romanian captain, "They really thought we were that stupid to not be able to play Quidditch! They really thought that something was happening to us when we stood frozen, and they started to slowen the game! Who knew what they thought that was happening to us? Oh, they were so stupid! And you performed excellently, even after that Vasile Feint! These Broomsticks are the best ever - and fastest, of course!..." Harry read what was written on the romanian broomsticks -- they were labelled, 'Mitraliera'.
Harry immediately underdstood everything. The romanians stood frozen only because they were making a Vasile Feint, and the norwegians wanted to see what happened to the romanians. When the norewgians almost gave up, the romanians started flying with lightspeed and the norwegian team was completely confused. Everything was a setup - an exceptionally evil one. And, Norway gave up when they saw the romanian performances Even worse, one of their players had died! Harry wondered what the Mitraliera broomsticks were up to... what did it mean in romanian?
The teams had a short talk with Mr. Bagman and then they went their separate ways. The crowd was leaving - including the Weasleys, and Harry. This was the weirdest Quidditch game ever... it would remain in the Quidditch history forever...
Finally, the day to go to the Quidditch Match came, even slower than the previous times. Harry was very glad that the day came at last -- he was tired of waiting, after doing that for two weeks. The previous day he had thought of his life at Hogwarts for more than five hours, and it came to great relief to see that it was July, 26th. Only five days to his birthday...
...and five hours until the Weasleys were to collect him. Harry saw that it was eleven o'clock already("Oy! I missed breakfast!").
He had been looking forward to this day since he recieved Ron's first letter telling about the new Quidditch World Cup. That was the chance of leaving the Duesleys -- didn't matter for how long -- And now that only five hours separated him from seeing Hogwarts again, seconds passed like minutes - he was wondering who he was going to the castle.
And finally, Harry heard a knock on his door. He opened it and saw Vernon, who called him, "Come, boy! Someone's here to take you!"
Harry just relieved to see that Ron was at the door and didn't come in a 'destructive' way. Vernon and Petunia went to the kitchens so they wouldn't have anything to do with the Weasleys, and Harry went outside.
The only one who was there was Ron, no Mr. Weasley; no Mrs. Weasley, no one. He was grinning to his ears, and took a plug from his pocket. Harry knew that Mr. Weasley had enough of those, he was collecting Muggle objects -- and plugs were his favourite.
"This is a Portkey. It is supposed to bring us to the Burrow, and from there we have another portkey to bring us to Hogwarts."
"Your father had done that only for us?" asked Harry surprised. He had thought Portkeys were controlled by the Ministry... but then he remembered how law-abiding Mr. Weasley was. He had once bewitched a car to fly, and he did it in secret because it was against the law. Everyone thought he was just inspecting it, to see how it was created by Muggles, but he wasn't exactly doing that. He had bewitched each part of it and then re-assembled it. Fred, George and Ron came to collect him in his second year with that car.
"I wonder why the game is at Hogwarts," said Ron looking away from the Portkey.
"No idea," said Harry staring at a plane in the sky. At first he thought it was a broomstick.
"Go, Harry, and take what you need for the Quidditch Match!"
"I won't need anything else than a visit to Gringotts..." he said, and saw Ron turning a little sadder. Harry knew that the thing eating him was being poor. Harry felt guilty for saying that, and remembering Ron that he was poor, while Harry had a considerable amount of gold in his vault.
"Well, let's go to the Burrow," said Ron, "Come on, touch the plug."
Harry did so, and he felt again the feeling of bring transported by a portkey. He had a whirling feeling, though it wasn't as bad as the one he had while travelling via floo Powder.
And then, he saw all the Weasleys in front of him. Everyone was home, prepared to leave for the Quidditch Cup; even Bill and Charlie. They were looking at Harry before saying, "Heya Harry."
"Hello," Harry answered, and then Mrs. Weasley walked to him. "Dears, we will leave very soon... so get ready everyone. So how are things, Harry dear?"
"As usual," he said, and then the sense of guilt for Errol's death came to him. "Oh,, take these... I owe you," he said, searching his pockets for some Galleons.
"Don't, Harry," she said, not even thinking about taking money from Harry. And he knew that Mrs. Weasley wasn't exactly like Fred and George, so he couldn't threaten her that he would curse her if she wouldn't accept the money.
"I have to..."
"No, Harry! It's our fault, we should have bought another owl before..."
Harry gave up, and after he said hello to everyone, he went to Fred and George's room and asked them what they were doing with the money he gave them.
"We've been doing great," Fred assured him, "Thank you."
"We couldn't have made it so far without what you gave us," George continued, "-- in less than a month we have succesfully made up lots of new... er - things."
"I still think I didn't deserve the money, so don't thank me.. The money should have been Cedric's."
"Yes, but they aren't!" said George, and Harry knew that George didn't know what he was talking about -- it more looked like he wanted to give the money back, or to make Harry feel better. But, seeing at the mode Harry stared at him, he realized what he had just said, and added, "Thank you anyway."
Then they heard Mr. Weasley calling them all. "EVERYONE IN THE KITCHEN!"
Harry, Fred and George left the room for the kitchens, knowing that Mr. Weasley had already set the Portkey. Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Percy were already there. Harry saw that Ginny was still avoiding his's eyes. She had a crush on him since she first saw him -- and it still hadn't passed.
"Charlie? Bill? Ron?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a loud voice.
"We're coming, mum!" Ron's voice echoed through the halls. Soon, he was in the room, with the oldest Weasley brothers near him.
While waiting for everyone to get prepared, Hary overheard a talk between Mr. Weasley and Percy, and he found out that there was a complete confusion at the Ministry. Everything was unusual, people disappearing, lots of people were gone and they had no replacements... everything was the worst possible, and Harry imagined that it should have been the same as it was fourteen years ago, before Voldemort's downfall.
Finally, everything was set. It was five o'clock, and they had crowded around the portkey, before touching it. And, the second time that day, he felt the familiar feeling of travelling by a portkey...
They were there. Loads of tents were placed in many different spots on the Hogwarts grounds, and the castle was raising gloriously in a distance as it had always been. Still, he hadn't seen any known persons, and a short time after, Mr. Weasley placed the tent.
As all the wizard tents, it was small when looking from outside, and very big from the inside; containing several quite large rooms for everyone.
Everyone remained inside the tent, but Harry and Ron didn't. They wanted to go for a walk, to see the castle again, and they saw how quiet the castle was when no one was inside it -- except, maybe, professor Dumbledore, Harry thought. People kept coming with portkeys, because they couldn't apparate on Hogwarts Grounds. The castle itself was unusually quiet... he had never seen it in a summer before.
Walking on the grounds, he thought about the nice time he had when he was there - except when Malfoy was annoying him. Hogwarts was his real home, and he wished he could stay there over the summer...
Ron was talking to Harry about the Quidditch game they were to see only one hour later. "I can't wait to see how the players are gonna play this time! It won't be as good as the Final, but it will be exciting..." said Ron for the hundredth time. Harry was starting to not pay attention to Ron's usual words. Even if he was just as interrested and anxious as Ron to see the match, he was getting bored of tlaking about only one thing.
Then he saw, in a distance, none other than Cho -- she was sitting on front of a tent, looking around. Harry's mind was not paying attention to Ron anymore at all -- he looked at her and he wondered why his mind seemed empty for a while.
"Harry?" asked Ron, "Are you alright?" Harry gave a start. He looked at Ron, not knowing what to tell him.
"I'm fine."
"Er - Okay," continued Ron before turning silent for the first time since they came up to Hogwarts.
They were walking towards their tent, and just then Harry saw that Cho's tent was quite close to the Weasley's one. Ron entered their tent, and Harry sat on the grass near the exit("I'll come in later," he told Ron). And then, Cho spotted him, and Harry saw that she was not sad anymore as she was at the end of the last term. He could clearly remember how tears were falling on her face... Harry guessed that she was the person who most suffered after his death, except for his parents.
"Hello, Harry!" she said, waving her hand towards him.
"Hi," he continued, wondering what she was thinking about what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.
"So... How are things?" she asked, and Harry noticed that she was smiling.
"How can they be when you're living with a family of Muggles who detest magic?" he answered, thinking about how much he wanted to leave the Dursleys again.
"Oh," she said, "Sorry..."
"Don't be..." said Harry, and then he remained silent. Lots of times in the summer, his mind slipped to Cho, and he was now talking to her... he never thought he would be talking to her that soon.
"I wonder what will happen in this Quidditch Game," she continued seeing that Harry wasn't saying anything. Harry saw one of his fellow Gryffindors, Dean Thomas, with his mother. But he forgot about him quickly and went back to talking with Cho, thing that he considered much more interresting.
"Dunno," he answered, "But who is playing anyway? I think I am the only one here who doesn't know..."
Cho smiled even more, almost laughing at the thing that Harry didn't know that. Then, she answered, very cheerful, "Norway versus Romania. Everyone knows that Norway will win - I think no one wanted to bet on Romania -- I heard they never actually won a match before. The romanians have a very bad team... I heard that they have some very stupid players right now... They don't even have enough money to get Firebolts."
"Okay," Harry said, and immediately after, he was called by someone. Harry turned back to see who it was, and saw in the first room of the tent that Mr. Weasley was holding a piece of paper.
"Harry!" he said, "It is for you..."
"What is that?" he asked, while he stood up and walked to take the parchment.
"It's a letter from the England's Quidditch team..." he said, looking very couriously at it.
"Well, bye," Harry said to Cho, who replied, "It was nice to meet you, Harry!".
Harry went to Mr. Weasley, who was reading silently the letter. He gave it to Harry. "Read it loud, mind it, Harry?"
"Okay." And then, he proceeded to reading the letter, so Mr. Weasley could hear him.
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am Jack Niffler, the Captain of the England's National Quidditch Team. I came once to one Quidditch Game in your third year, and I saw your great flying abilities. You would make a very good seeker for the national team. Send me a letter saying if you will accept to play for our team.
Jack Niffler,
Captain of the English National Quidditch team.
Both Harry and Mr. Wesaley remained silent. He couldn't believe it - he, Harry Potter, the seeker of England's national team? But he was only fifteen! How was he going to play?
The answer was very clear - 'no'. Harry still had to stay three more years at Hogwarts... It wasn't possible to be able to play at the national team while he was at school, was it?
Yes, it was. He remembered that Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, was still at the Durmstrang Institute. Harry had met him last year at Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament.
And, the thought came back to his head - was he good enough for the national team? He had never thought of that. He wondered if there was a player as young as him that played at a national team before. He already was the youngest seeker of the century, couldn't he be the youngest wizard to play in a national quidditch team?
Yet, that was the only thing he was very good at... He could consider to be Quidditch player in his future... so he had to decide to accept or to decline what Jack Niffler asked him. He said to himself that he would think of that...
"Cool!" he heard Ron say loud. Harry understood that Mr. Weasley told everyone what the letter said. "Harry! Come in the kitchen!" He had nothing to do except that, so he followed advice and went to the kitchen... perhaps he will decide with the other Weasleys if to accept or not. Then he entered into the kitchen, and the first one he saw was Ron, jumping and --
"Harry!" said Ron again, with a facial expression Harry had never seen before at him. He looked very happy of that - Harry wondered if he ever saw Ron happier than that time. "Is that true?"
Harry took the letter and showed it to Ron. "I can't believe it," said Harry still in a quite low voice. He wasn't as Happy as Ron was. It was a very hard thing to play in the national team...
"Why are you sad?" Ron asked him.
"I'm not sad... but I don't think I can be a good Quidditch Player."
"C'mon, Harry! If the captain of the team said it, then you really must be a good player! And we all have seen you - You would make an excellent seeker -- even if we are talking about the English Team..."
But Harry hadn't cheered up; even with that he didn't consider himself good enough for the national team.
"Time to go, boys," announced Mrs. Weasley. "It's almost seven o'clock! Let's go! But we won't stay after eleven o'clock, because we will need to sleep sometimes."
Ron then burst out in exasperation, "SLEEP? AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP?"
Everyone went silent. Harry had never seen Ron shout like that at his mother, and he was sure that was a first. Even Mrs. Weasley was confused about that. Harry felt like Ron was going to be in trouble... because he knew how his mother could be when angry - he remembered lsat year when she found out that Fred and George had lots of 'joke shop sweets' hidden in their pockets. Not to forget in his second year when she caught them flying the car...
"Ron, dear," said Mr. Weasley, but then he stopped. Ron had an I-shouldn't-have-done-that look, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand him. They all left the tent in silence.
They soon were near the entrance to the Hogwarts Quidditch Field. He saw that it was much larger than before, they casted lots of spells to make it like that - Harry was sure that ten thousand people could fit in there, ten more times than usual.
It was a very large crowd at the front of the doors. "Just wait until they will all enter, we have reserved tickets," added Mrs. Weasley, "I have tickets to the Top Box this year, too... It is good to be a friend with everyone."
When they found their seats, the match was about to begin. Bagman was commentating, as he did last year. He was close to the Weasleys, so they heard him saying "Sonorus!", casting a spell that magnified his voice so that everyone in the stadium could hear him.
"Welcome, to the first match of the Quidditch World Cup! Norway versus Rooomaniaaaa!" he announced. "First person who enters the stadium is our referee, coming all way from Egypt, Hassan Mostafa!" The crowd could see Mostafa flying in the middle of the Stadium. Then, Bagman called the names of the players from both teams. The first ones who entered the stadium were the romanians.
"Petrescu! Moldovan! Dobrean! Moga! Nicolae! Campean! Aaaand Timofte!" the Romanian players entered on the field, a few members of the crowd cheering up. There were many Romanian supporters, but not as many as the Norwegians, whose team came, too, to the field, while Bagman shouted the names, "Jensen, Antonsen, Hansen, Nilsen, Tveit, Simonsen and Knutsen".
Harry could see the scoreboard, still advertising on different things("DREAM TOFFEE - Eat and think about something, and it will happen in a dream the next time you will fall asleep!"). The huge board was magically created when the stadium was enlarged, Harry couldn't remebmer seeing it when they reached Hogwarts earlier on that day.
"Mostafa is riding his new broomstick, the prototype of the RazorBroom! The new broomstick is slightly better than the Firebolt," commentated Bagman, while Harry was trying to have a better look at the referee's broomstick. "Mostafa had let the balls out! The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!"
Harry noticed that it was a very strange Quidditch game, maybe the strangest he had ever seen. It was not looking like pofessional Quidditch as the Ireland vs. Bulgaria game was. The norwegians flew a little at the beginning but stopped noticing that the romanians were like frozen. The players looked like they didn't do any effort to win. The chasers slowly flew chasing the Quaffle, and the Beaters only knocked down Bludgers when they rushed towards them; no effort to save the other team members' skins. But what was happening?
Bagman stopped. "Something wrong?" he asked, the question addressed to the players. But they ignored it...
Then Harry noticed that the norwegian team started a slightly faster game. But the romanians still didn't bother to do anything. The game continued like that, with no scoring. The romanian keeper was the only player on the field who seemed to have any activity(except the norwegians who were still distracted - they were playing bad only because the romanians started like that). He had a little job to do, giving the game a little dynamical aspect. He seemed to be a good keeper, but the other players were too... calm. They flew like they were only enjoying a slow walk with the broomstick... no Quaffle chasing, not at all...
"For God's sake! What is this?" asked Bagman, his voice echoing to every spot of the stadium. "I've never seen anything like this! Both of the teams look... like, er - how to say it - dead. They're doing nothing!"
Then, the norwegian team started playing slightly better, again. Still, the romanian players were just like before: flying with the speed of a snail. It was something really weird.
"The norwegian team plays slightly better... Hansen has the Quaffle. Antonsen, Jensen. The Quaffle is now in Antonsen's hands, he passes to Hansen... The game seems to be more real - but no, the romanians are still like - frozen."
A bludger hit one of the romanian chasers, and he yelled a loud "AH!" but then, he was back to his 'frozen' state. "Wow! What was that? Moldovan was hit straight in the stomach by a bludger, but he is still standing frozen! What is the romanian team -- we should call the mediwizards --"
"NOW!" shouted one of the romanian players. He was the seeker, and the team captain, too. "LET'S DO IT!"
Then, suddenly, Petrescu sped up towards the norwegian chaser who had the quaffle and brutally took it. The norwegian chaser who previously posessed the quaffle was looking confused at Petrescu who was flying with a higher speed than the Razorbroom's. The entire team started to act like a strong hurricane - they were very fast, violent and they seemed to play like berserk - no one could see what they were doing, but it looked like suicide. Everything a person could see was some fast-moving points, and Harry, as much as he bothered to watch the game, didn't manage it. The romanians were even hitting each other -- no wonder why, thinking of their very high speed, it was very hard to be careful. And, they looked like they were glued to the broomsticks. Something very unusual was happening.
At first, they were feozen, and after some time, they started to move like hurricanes. What was up to them, no one could tell.
"Petrescu! Dobrean! Petrescu again - Dobrean, Moldovan... Petrescu -- no, it was Dobrean - damn, this is too fast." The romanians were, compared to the norwegians, like tanks compared to swordsmen. Everyone thought that the norwegians would beat up the romanians with a flattening score, but it was exactly the opposite...
"SCORE FOR ROMANIA!" shouted Bagman, sounding very confused too. "The norwegians are going to lose the match as they nad never done it before -- I think the score is about three hundred to zero, after all these --"
CRASH.
A norwegian player was speeding to the ground, and that loud crashing sound was caused by a collision with one of the romanians. He reached the ground and there was another crash. "TIME-OUT!" shouted Bagman after Mostafa whistled. "Hansen is down, he fell down from more than sixty feet -"
A pack of mediwizards sped up to the spot where the norwegian chaser fell. The rest of the norwegian team crowded around Hansen, too. No one from the stands could see anything that was happening down there.
Meanwhile, the romanian team went to the middle of the field. They were talking about something - surely plans for the next part of the match. All of them were very pleased by what happened. There was something up to them, something dirty, Harry thought.
Five minutes passed from the accident, and a mediwizard got out of the crowded place around the fallen player. He had a tragic look on his face - and announced, "I think Hansen is..."
Harry immediately knew what the mediwizard meant. He didn't look like he liked saying that word. "Dead?" asked Knutsen.
"I am very sorry, but, yes - he is dead."
"HANSEN IS DEAD!" roared Bagman in desperation. "That rarely happens to a Quidditch game!"
The norwegian captain was talking with Mostafa. After a short time, Mostafa whistled six times.
"Mostafa whistled six times! At Knutsen's request, the game is cancelled!"
Then, Mostafa flew towards Bagman, and after a short talk he announced "The game was cancelled by the Norwegian captain, Knutsen. They have surrendered, and Romania wins the game... after barely ten minutes in the game!"
"WHAT?" asked Harry.
"Calm down, Harry," Mr. Wesaley told him, "The norwegians wanted that because they saw how dirty the romanians were playing! If they didn't do so, the entire team was likely to die... And no one would want that, would they?"
After that, both teams went up to the top box, the box where Harry was in. He could hear the teams talking. Some of the players were having very interresting subjects -
"...you did the Vasile Feint excellently, all of you!" said the romanian captain, "They really thought we were that stupid to not be able to play Quidditch! They really thought that something was happening to us when we stood frozen, and they started to slowen the game! Who knew what they thought that was happening to us? Oh, they were so stupid! And you performed excellently, even after that Vasile Feint! These Broomsticks are the best ever - and fastest, of course!..." Harry read what was written on the romanian broomsticks -- they were labelled, 'Mitraliera'.
Harry immediately underdstood everything. The romanians stood frozen only because they were making a Vasile Feint, and the norwegians wanted to see what happened to the romanians. When the norewgians almost gave up, the romanians started flying with lightspeed and the norwegian team was completely confused. Everything was a setup - an exceptionally evil one. And, Norway gave up when they saw the romanian performances Even worse, one of their players had died! Harry wondered what the Mitraliera broomsticks were up to... what did it mean in romanian?
The teams had a short talk with Mr. Bagman and then they went their separate ways. The crowd was leaving - including the Weasleys, and Harry. This was the weirdest Quidditch game ever... it would remain in the Quidditch history forever...