Harry looked skywards, craning his neck in awe. Even from far away, the stadium had appeared enormous, but standing right beneath it, he could not help but stop and stare. From behind him, Ron lightly cuffed him over the head.
"Oi, stop staring, Harry. Look! Omnioculars!"
Harry turned around to where Ron was fiddling with a set of what looked to be brass binoculars, adorned with knobs and dials. Behind a pile of the viewing devices stood a saleswizard, looking quite excited that he had managed to catch the large group's attention.
"Absolute, top of the line, these! Everything Muggle binoculars can do, and more, of course! Zoom in, slow motion, and even get detailed play-by-play breakdowns of all the action! 10 galleons, an absolute bargain!"
Harry frowned slightly, turning to Ron, who was eagerly pressing the Omnioculars to his eyes, and looking around.
"Uh, Ron, do we really need these? I'm sure there'll be tv screens in the stadium that show zoomed in footage and replays, no?"
Ron shook his head.
"Nope! Honestly Harry, you can think of this as my birthday present! It'll be worth it, trust me!"
Behind Ron, the salesman nodded eagerly.
"You speak truly, young man! After all, it is not often that you get to see the Quidditch World Cup, live and with friends! A wondrous memento of your time here! Why, for an extra 13 sickles, I can engrave your name and today's date on the side! Add another 7 sickles to that, and you can add a shrinking rune to your Omniocular, making it nice and portable!"
Harry sighed, but reached toward the pouch of money that Mr. Weasley had got for him from Gringotts the day before they left.
"Give me three-"
Hermione cut him off, grabbing him by the arm.
"Harry no, I've got enough allowance saved up, I can pay for my own."
Harry shrugged her off, smiling warmly at her.
"No, let me. It's really nice being able to buy things for people, especially good friends."
Hermione grimaced, but sighed in acceptance. Harry chuckled.
"Besides, I'm sure you had at least 10 different books you were planning to buy with that 10 galleons."
Hermione blushed, giving a small nod.
"Alright, well then. Excuse me sir, you've sold me. Can I get 3 Omnioculars… wait -"
Harry turned around, looking to where Ginny and Luna were examining a tiny dancing leprechaun figure in the next booth.
"Hey Ginny, Luna. Do you guys want Omnioculars as well?"
The two turned. Ginny's cheeks turned rosy, but she nodded furiously in agreement. Much more sedately, Luna answered.
"Are you sure Harry Potter? You could buy hundreds of beetle eyes for that money… Hmmm. But I would be happy if you would."
A tad befuddled by the response of the ever eccentric Luna, Harry turned back to the salesman.
"Back to the order… I'll take 5 pairs of Omnioculars then, give me the shrinking charm on all of them please, but I won't be needing the name engraved."
The salesman nodded jovially, taking the coins that Harry handed over, then placed 5 boxes of Omnioculars on the table.
"Feel free to take them, guys."
Ron gave out something that sounded like a squeal of joy, giving Harry a rough one armed hug.
"Thanks mate! I'll get you something awesome for Christmas, I swear!"
Hermione shook her head at the tall redhead's antics, but smiled at Harry as she took two boxes off of the table, handing one to Ginny, giving her a little nudge in the shoulder as she did so. Still blushing rather furiously, Ginny met Harry's eyes.
"Thank you so much, Harry! It's so expensive too… I'll get you something for Christmas as well!"
Harry grinned at Ginny, remembering the time that Ginny had stuck her elbow in a butter dish upon seeing him. In a joking tone, he answered her.
"It better be good! But it's no problem at all, Ginny. Hope it helps you enjoy the match!"
Harry's eyes fell back to the last box, still lying untouched on the table. Picking it up, he thrust it in front of Luna. The silver eyed girl took a moment to respond, blinking slowly before carefully taking the box in her hands. Nodding a thank you to the vendor, Harry stepped towards where the rest of their group was congregating, around a snack cart selling butterbeer and an assortment of snacks.
"Thank you Harry Potter. I'll make sure to keep this very safe."
Harry turned back around to where Luna was standing. Peering through the Omnioculars at him, her eyes seemed even larger than usual.
"Ah… you know Luna you don't have to call me by my full name you know. Just Harry is just fine."
Luna cocked her head, before saying the name a few times, as if testing how it felt to say.
"Harry. Harry. Ha-rry. Harr-y."
She took a bottle cork out of her pocket, and handed it to Harry.
"Here you go, Harry. It isn't much, but I'm sure it'll help you out. There are quite a few Nargles floating about you, so keeping this on you should help ward them off."
The pair continued walking, making their way through the thick crowd of Quidditch fans. Curious, Harry questioned Luna.
"Luna, what… exactly are Nargles?"
"Oh, their quite naughty creatures. You'll often find them in mistletoe, and they really do enjoy stealing things from people."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Stealing things? That doesn't sound good."
Luna nodded sadly.
"I've had quite a few of my things stolen by Nargles, unfortunately. Shoes, papers, stuff like that. Hogwarts is a big castle though, I'm sure there's plenty of mistletoe, and plenty of Nargles."
She perked up.
"But this year I'm bringing this with me!"
From around her neck, she brought out a necklace festooned with bottle corks, and showed it to Harry. Harry frowned, thinking back to what Luna had said before joining Hermione in the girls bedroom the day before.
"Luna… are you sure it's Nargles taking your things?"
The younger girl frowned, and for a split second, Harry saw a flash of anger pass through her serene eyes, before she smiled and replied calmly.
"I'm sure! Hopefully they're using my shoes and papers to make houses, I would be terribly sad if my things went to waste. And besides, it's like my mum used to say. Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the ways we expect. (Direct quote from J.K. Rowling)"
Harry frowned at the girl, but refrained from questioning her further.
"Well, I'll keep this on me all the time then, thank you Luna."
He tucked the bottle cork into his chest pocket, tapping it twice.
Luna smiled. Harry grinned back, then spoke.
"Say… have I introduced you to the twins yet? They're awfully good at pulling pranks…"
-line break-
As everyone finished up their shopping, stocked with snacks and drinks, as well as decked out with green and red Quidditch merchandise, they began the long climb up the stairs to their box seats. Harry smirked as he heard the twins finishing up their marketing pitch to Luna.
"So if you ever- for any reason need anyone pranked young miss Lovegood, you just point them out to us, and we… heh, we will take care of the rest. Just make sure to tell anyone who comes asking that it was Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and that we are at their service."
From beside him, Hermione tapped him on the shoulder.
"Harry!"
The rule-abiding girl whispered harshly.
"You can't just unleash the twins on people like that! It's irresponsible, and it's against the rules!"
Harry sighed.
"Come on Hermione. She's getting bullied. I know Fred and George won't take it too far, and having some kind of deterrent isn't a horrible idea. They deserve it Hermione, they really do. You know Luna won't do anything to stop them… do you want to let her live all 7 years at Hogwarts having her things stolen, friendless?"
Hermione gritted her teeth.
"I know Harry, I know!"
She sighed, frustrated.
"I would usually say go to a teacher… but I know all too well that it doesn't work with this kind of thing. Look, I don't like it. But I'm not going to get you in trouble. And I… I like Luna. She's … well strange, for sure, but."
Harry nodded.
"She grows on you doesn't she."
Hermione shrugged helplessly.
"Exactly."
The two looked back down the stairs, to where Luna was being overzealously escorted up the stairs by the twins, each with a soft smile.
"Oooi! What are you two waiting for, come on up!"
Ron's voice echoed from above, prompting the two friends to restart their efforts up the stairs.
"You're really telling me -"
Hermione huffed, as she climbed the stairs.
"That these wonderful, magical wizards couldn't install an elevator? Or an escalator? In this ludicrously large stadium?"
Harry shook his head as he matched her, step for step.
"I know. Apparently they don't even have a tv either!"
Hermione turned to him, eyes flashing with irritation.
"Seriously? I should have known! There were no tv's in Ron's house, and I never saw a single one at Hogwarts. It's honestly ridiculous, because tv's are so useful!"
Harry nodded, about to reply, when something hooked onto his foot, dragging to a halt. Stumbling, he grabbed a nearby railing to prevent himself from falling. He looked down to see what had caught him. On top of his foot laid an elaborately engraved silver snakehead, with emerald green eyes. Attached to it was a weighty lacquered cane of black wood, held in the hand of a tall, silver haired man, sneering up at the two.
"Ah… I seemed to have misplaced my cane, my apologies, Mr. Potter."
Despite his apology the man made no move to free Harry, staring up at the two with disdain.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Mr. Potter. My name is Lucius Malfoy."
Harry cut him off.
"We've met."
The man's sneer grew even deeper.
"Ah yes. That unfortunate incident with your incompetent half-breed groundskeeper. Well Mr. Potter, I am pleased to have left an impression. Now, I couldn't help but overhear a portion of that delightful little chat you were having there… I suppose the Weasley's have rubbed off on you with their love of Muggle paraphernalia. I see you believe, like Arthur, in incorporating more of the Muggle world into ours. Let me disabuse you of that notion. Wizards have no need for such inferior technologies in our lives. For we have magic, do we not, Mr. Potter? With a wave of a wand we can accomplish what it would take muggles years to accomplish. This is what separates us from them. We shall not lower ourselves to placing such simple, such dull objects in our homes, nor shall we need to rely on such lowly means to entertain ourselves."
Lucius paused in his rant for a second, calming himself.
"Mr. Potter. You are, deservedly or not, to some extent, a representative of our community. I pray you understand the obligations such a role comes with, before… any further strife were to befall you. I would hate for such a young, promising boy to find himself in any… trouble."
Lucius turned, jerking his cane free from Harry's foot as he did so. As he did so, he shoved a figure standing in the shadows before him, ushering him off into another section of the stadium. As he walked away, cloak swirling behind him, he turned, calling to Hermione.
"Miss Granger, was it?"
His tone was almost pitiful, but equally full of vicious amusement.
"Enjoy the show."
-line break-
Harry could hardly keep up with the action. He had underestimated just how difficult it was to keep up with a match of Quidditch, essentially two different games taking place at the same time, in three dimensions, at ridiculous speeds in midair. Having never actually watched a Quidditch match before, always being up in the air, focused on the snitch and avoiding bludgers, Harry had to put his seeking skills to good use, frantically tracking the Quaffle through the hands of the Irish chasers.
The Bulgarian seeker Krum quite obviously had the Irish seeker Lynch completely outclassed, leading him on a merry chase throughout the arena. However, as much as Lynch was inferior to Krum, the Irish trio of chasers were superior to their Bulgarian counterparts, knifing through their defenses time and time again. Even with the thickset Krum dive bombing their formations every now and then, doing his utmost to prevent the Quaffle from sailing through their hoops, the point total was lopsided entirely in favor of the Irish.
"He's going to have to catch it soon…"
Harry mumbled under his breath, as he took a look at the scoreboard. No matter how much a boon a hundred and fifty instant points were, catching the snitch also brought about the end of the game. At this rate, it was only a matter of ten or fifteen minutes that the Irish chasers would have the game well out of reach of the Bulgarians, no matter how skilled their seeker.
"What did you say, Harry?"
Hermione shouted into his ear, barely audible over the roars of the crowd.
"Krum! He has to catch the snitch soon, otherwise they have no chance!"
As if on cue, the crimson robed seeker went into a tight, spiraling dive, cutting through the middle of the arena. A fraction of a second behind, Lynch followed, his green robes flapping in the wind as he dove in Krum's wake. The two jockeyed for place, but Krum managed to stay fully in front of the Irish seeker, keeping his entire body between his rival and the ground, masking any view that his pursuer might have had.
Harry watched, entranced, as the pair made their way closer and closer to the ground, a pair of shooting stars falling to earth. Hurriedly, he looked below them, looking for any hint of gold that might have caught Krum's eye. He frowned, seeing nothing. Beside him, Hermione screamed words being echoed around the entire stadium.
"They're going to crash!"
Mere seconds before his broom would have impacted into the ground, Krum forced his broom skywards, brute strength overcoming gravity for a split second, before the magic on the broom arrested his momentum, bringing him to a sharp stop, then rocketing back upwards. For Lynch, it was far too late. Unable to see below him, and focused on the phantom snitch that Krum had fooled him into following, all the while having his view obscured by Krum's body, the Irishman had no time to react before impacting into the ground with an awful crash.
The shrill tones of the referee's whistle filled the air, as screams followed. Lynch lay on the remains of his broom, unmoving, limp. Harry had seen his old faithful Nimbus shattered beyond repair, but it didn't hold a candle to the bits of dust and splinters that surrounded the fallen figure, a once top of the line broomstick reduced to nothing more than small flecks of wood. The announcer's shaky voice rang hollowly through the stadium.
"And with a perfect ... brutally executed Wronski Feint, Krum buries Lynch in the ground. Mediwizards are rushing to the Irish seekers side, with the rest of the Irish team landing in a loose circle around him."
Harry's fingers fumbled on his Omnioculars, replaying the crash over and over again. The purposefulness in Krum's eyes, the sheer laziness with which he pulled out of a dive from more than five hundred feet in the air. Even now, as the mediziwards flocked to the fallen seekers side, Krum's eyes flitted around the arena, hunting for the snitch.
Shakily, the Irish seeker clambered to his feet. Harry shook his head in simple disbelief, how a human being could manage to stand after a fall from such a height, at such speed was something that no magic could explain. But Lynch tottered over to his broom, and slumped over it, slowly rising back into the air. The whistle blew, and the game restarted. In seconds, it was all over. Krum, now free of the slight obstacle that Lynch had posed to him throughout the game, had spotted the snitch during the break, and hunted it down with ruthless efficiency.
Flipping upside down to dodge a Bludger, Krum snagged the snitch from middair, quieting its beating gold wings in his hands, raising it above his head. His face remained as if it was carved from stone. A wave of red erupted in the stadium as the Bulgarian contingent shot to their feet, screaming with joy. This was soon quieted, however, by the enormous gold and green fireworks that exploded above the stadium.
"And in a stunning turn of events, Krum catches the snitch, but Ireland wins! I repeat, Ireland wins the Quidditch World Cup!"
The masses of green exploded into delirium, singing and cheering. Already there were scuffles breaking out among the two fanbases, as the two teams landed, brusquely shaking hands, before the Irish took to the air for a victory lap. Harry turned to the seat next to him, where Ron was on his feet, hollering at the top of his lungs. Ron slung his arm over Harry's shoulder, bellowing.
"What a game! What a bloody game!"
