Chapter 6: Turkey

"Everyone ready?" asked George. He, Fred, Ron, Harry and Hermione were waiting inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and were about to begin to Apparate to Turkey for the Quidditch World Cup. "OK, Fred, go and get Remus." His twin left, and returned a minute later forcing a sleepy looking Remus into the centre of the group.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" everyone chorused.

Remus smiled. "That's the first time anyone's remembered my birthday for a long time. But … why are you all carrying bags?"

"It's your present," said Fred slyly. "We're going to the Quidditch World Cup!"

Remus gasped. "You're joking! I'll go and get my stuff."

"It's here," said George, passing him a cloth bag from behind the counter. "Angelina's going to look after the shop. She was a bit reluctant at first but we … persuaded her."

"You'll need these," said Fred, taking six headphones out of his robes. "Put them on."

"What are they?" asked Harry.

"Language Listeners," said George. "They let you hear foreign tongues in your own language. But they won't let you talk in other languages, so you'll have to shake or nod your head."

Harry put his Language Listeners on – they were comfortably warm. 

"OK," said Fred. "Now, Turkey's too far away to Apparate to in one go, so we're going to go in four shorter hops. First to France, then to Italy, then to Greece and finally to the stadium where the game's taking place. Ready?"

"Where exactly do we need to go to?" asked Hermione.

"A wood near Paris," said George. "Forêt de la Crevette Grise. We'll have to go through security checks. The French Ministry have set up Apparition Beacons to help you home in on the right place."

Harry had gone over Apparition Beacons at Andy Anzac's. They were magical flares that helped you to get to exactly the right point, even if you couldn't visualise the place.

"All at the same time, then?" asked Fred. "Three, two, one …"

Forêt de la Crevette Grise, thought Harry. CRACK! He was speeding through space, being drawn in to some magnetic force then … "Welcome. Please let me perform a quick check before you continue to your next destination," crackled a voice through Harry's headphones. The words didn't fit the lips of the man who was speaking to him.

The security check was similar to the one at the Ministry of Magic, and when the French wizard said he could go Harry joined his friends again. "Now, next, we need to go to …" started George.

Three Apparitions later, Harry arrived in Turkey. An elderly wizard in a turban was checking their names off on a long piece of parchment covered in Arabic and another man who could have been his son was passing the now familiar golden rod down their bodies and checking their wands.

"Name?" asked the elder wizard.

"George Weasley," said Fred. The wizard checked his list. "Pass. Name?"

"Fred Weasley," said George.

"Pass. Name?"

"Harry Potter," said Harry, stepping forwards.

"Name?" repeated the wizard.

"Harry Potter."

"You're joking."

"No." Harry shook his head and pulled back his fringe to reveal his lightning-bolt scar. "I'm Harry Potter."

"If you say so," groaned the wizard. "Pass. Name?"

"Are you really Harry Potter?" asked the younger wizard, who was only as old as Harry.

Harry nodded. The wizard breathed a Turkish word that wasn't translated, but probably meant 'Wow'. He then passed his rod quickly up and down Harry's front and back, took Harry's wand, checked it, and nodded his approval. "Good. Can I check your bag?"

Harry let him look inside it. "Fine. Go now."

"We're going to be staying here," said Fred, motioning towards a patch of ground outside a small Quidditch stadium with minarets and a couple of domes.

"Isn't the stadium a bit small?" asked Harry. The World Cup stadium had been a lot bigger, though no grander.

"No," said Remus. "This is just the quarter-finals, remember. England versus the US isn't a bit game for most Turks. They'll be watching their own team playing France down south. This is actually one of the biggest stadiums in the country – seats five thousand."

"Right," said Harry. "Football stadiums are much bigger."

"Yes," said Remus. "But there's a lot more Muggles than wizards in the world and Quidditch isn't exactly a big sport in Turkey. Their team's done well to get this far. You get half the wizarding population of Turkey in here."

"A third," said George.

"Whatever," said Remus. "The figure's not important. I'll expect it'll be full anyway. About one thousand English, three thousand Americans and another thousand pick 'n' mix from around the world. People who wanted to see a game and could only get tickets for this one. Thanks again for taking me here. We'd better set up a tent. When does the referee throw up?"

Hermione sniggered. "He means start the game by throwing the Quaffle in the air," hissed Ron.

"Two o'clock," said Fred. "Blimey, it's hot."

They had finished putting up the tents, of which there were three, each with two bedrooms incorporated into them, by half past eleven. They were sitting outside relaxing in the heat when a wizard dressed extravagantly in red approached them. "Would you like a carpet ride?" he asked. He must have been speaking in English, because Harry had his Language Listener off. "I can give you rides for just one Hittite each."

"Hittite?" Harry asked under his breath.

"The wizarding currency of the Middle East," whispered Remus. George looked over at him. "Hey, birthday boy! Should we go?"

"Why not?" replied Remus. "You'll be paying for me though."

"Is it your birthday?" asked the wizard. "Congratulations. Please call me Izmir. If you would like to follow me."

The magic carpet was about twelve feet long and eight feet wide, and they all sat down on it feeling rather foolish, Izmir cross-legged at the front. Harry had paid Fred three Sickles for his Hittite, although he wasn't sure if that was the exchange rate. "Are we all seating comfortably?" asked Izmir. There was a general murmur of agreement. "Then we will – begin."

The carpet floated smoothly and gracefully into the air and hovered three feet above the ground. "Everyone OK?" asked Izmir. "Nobody get airsick? Then we will go – up!"

The carpet began to rise. The Dursleys had never let Harry on a roller coaster, but he could tell instantly that this would be the best ride of all if it were in a theme park. It did whatever you asked it too instantly. "How fast can it go?" he asked.

"The carpet?" asked Izmir. "Oh, I don't know, about two hundred kilometres per hour, something like that? Would you like to try?"

"No," said Hermione instantly.

Izmir smiled. "Maybe later, huh?"

They drifted over plains, mountains and valleys, looking down into small villages and herds of strange animals. "Everyone still OK?" asked Izmir. "Anyone like a go at piloting? The birthday man?"

Remus smiled, and shuffled forwards. "Don't worry, you can't fall off," reassured Izmir. "Now, just tell the carpet what you want to do?"

"Stop," commanded Remus, and the carpet stopped, hovering half a mile above the ground. Remus smiled. "James would have loved this. And Sirius." He was quiet for a minute. "Forward."

The carpet shot off like a rocket, making everyone scream. "Slow down, slow down," shouted Remus.

"You must be patient with it," Izmir told him. "Be calm."

"Slow," said Remus. The carpet slowed. He guided it around for a few minutes, before handing control back to the Turk.

"OK," said Izmir, "let's go!"

The carpet shot off even faster than before and Harry's long hair was whipped back. It turned five somersaults and rushed towards the ground at tremendous speed, they were going to hit the campsite, they were going to crash, families were ducking for cover –

"Land," commanded Izmir, and the carpet stopped perfectly in front of the tents. "I'll suppose you'll want to go to the match now."