Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

The Quidditch Cup

The next few weeks passed in a similar way. Father stormed about, mother practiced being docile and faint-prone, Draco did homework and practiced quidditch, trying to stay out of Father's way, and Ryua spent almost all her time in her room. She tried to send a letter to one of her friends, only to find Father had posted Ryua's owl on a 'Fowl Weather Flying' course for the summer, effectively cutting off her contact with the outside world.

So, she finished her homework, and practiced magic. Too bad I can't use actual spells this way, she thought. The occasional spell, like flippendo or firaga carried over, but more complex spells like charms or transfiguration spells didn't work so easily. She was also dabbling in rune spells, sketching intricate circles and pentagrams to boost her magic. She had to be careful with this, however, as it was much more noticeable than gathering a handful of coldfire.

And then, the World Cup arrived. Father, although he was by no means happy with Ryua yet, wasn't about to risk other wizards thinking he was a poor father. Ryua got to go. Finally able to act happy since she came home from school, Ryua was bubbling over with excitement. She and Draco were to pack up the family tents. Father, of course, refused to have to duck to enter a living abode, and so their tents were the tallest they could get away with without alerting muggles. There was one for the children (a good sight smaller inside), and one for the parents. They had their own private portkey, which was set for 8:00 PM, so they could all sleep in and have a leisurely day.

And then, there was the muggle dress code. Mother wore a simple black dress that could easily have suited either world, Father had a tailor-made matching suit, and miraculously, mother had convinced him to let the children pick their own clothes, saying they would know better what their age group was wearing. Neither one had let Father see their choices yet, as he quite possibly would have made them change.

Draco was the most 'acceptable', wearing dark blue, close fitting jeans, and a black leather vest over top. Muggles would assume it was cowhide, or something similar, although it was recognizably top quality Hebridean Black Dragonskin.

As a holdover from their toddler days when mother dressed them in matching outfits, Ryua also wore leather and jean. A short leather skirt, paired with knee-high boots, also Dragonskin, and a dark jean vest, buttoned up the front. She stubbornly wore her hair down.

Sure enough, their parents were slightly less than pleased with the outfit choices. But since the twins had just come down at 7:55, there was no time to change. They were made to carry the tents and luggage, however, which made catching hold of the portkey rather uncomfortable. They managed, too excited to complain.

Ryua had never seen a place this busy. Everywhere she looked, there were ministry wizards in varying states of muggle dress, trying to keep a handle on the constant flow of excited witches and wizards. Father even managed to keep a civil expression on his face as he paid the muggle camp director, and was pleased to note their reserved spot was directly across from the stadium entrance. As their tickets had been top-quality, they arrived just a half hour before the game begun, so they were able to go directly up to the top box.

Much to Father and Draco's disgust, and Ryua's joy, they were seated directly behind the Weasleys, accompanied by Harry and Hermionie. There was a rather tense moment as Cornelius Fudge introduced them to each other. Ryua gave a small wink and a wave to her three friends before Father was done glaring at Mr. Weasley, then affected a traditional Malfoy haughty expression.

When the Veela came onto the stage, Father had already closed his eyes, but had forgotten to warn Draco. Ryua reached up and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him down into his seat, and elbowing him hard in the ribs. "What do you think you are doing? Climbing into Ronald Weasley's seat like that..."

"Oh, shut up..." he grumbled, focusing on his shoes until the leprechauns came out. Once the shower of leprechaun gold (why did it have to be so hard, if it was fake?) ended, the teams shot out.

"So, think it'll be Ireland or Bulgaria?" Draco asked.

"It's a close call. Viktor Krum's an excellent seeker, Lynch'll have a hard time beating him. Of course, the chasers on Bulgaria are pretty pathetic, Ireland's got an excellent chance to get all those points ahead..."

"Nah, never happen. All Krum has to do is catch the snitch before Ireland scores 16 goals more than them, it's no problem."

"It's like a playover of our quidditch match, Ireland has to get points, and all Bulgaria has to do is catch the snitch before time runs out."

"Of course, we all know how that turned out..." Harry said from the row ahead.

"Shut up, Potter," Ryua snapped, "This isn't your conversation."

"Fine, Malfoy. Keep it down and watch the game, would you?" Ryua was having a rather good time. Mock fighting with her friends was so much better than trying to ignore her family. And the match was breathtaking. It did parallel their own match, actually. The Bulgarian beaters were vicious, and were the only thing keeping Ireland's score advancing as slowly as it did. Worthless keeper...

Being a girl at this match was definitely more amusing. While Draco and Father kept having to close their eyes at key points to avoid the Veela spell, Ryua could keep watching, and so didn't miss Ireland scoring an insane number of goals, or the Referee getting caught by the Veela spell. Of course, once the Veela went insane, and started throwing balls of fire about the pitch, they became a lot less mind-trapping to the boys. Ryua and Draco stood up and cheered with the rest of the crowd when Lynch managed to get up again, and shrieked when one of the Irish chasers nearly got impaled on a broomstick. Father, although he didn't stand up himself, didn't call them to task either. He was nearly as caught up in it as his children.

When Krum managed to catch the snitch even with a bloody nose obscuring his vision, the explosion from the crowd was incredible. And in the top box, the teams climbed up, most of them battered and bloody from the vicious match.

"Think we'll ever play professional quidditch, Draco?"

"Wouldn't that be the greatest?" Draco was full of excitement, and looked the most cheerful Ryua had ever seen him. She felt rather the same way.