(GoF) CHAPTER SIX: The Quidditch World Cup
"So," Cedric said to Ellie a few minutes later as they strode through the masses of booths and stands selling various team paraphernalia, magical binoculars, and all sorts of other strange, magical artifacts she had never seen before. "That was a 'no' to the Muggle internship, then?"
"Definitely a no." It might be smarter to lie, but that particular lie was too much. "I really wish my mum had come up with a better story than that. I think she was probably trying to get back at me, honestly."
"Get back at you for what, exactly?"
She glanced hesitantly over at him. They were really more of acquaintances than friends; no matter how handsome he was, she couldn't go telling him all of her secrets, could she? She went for the safe move: answering a question with a question. "What do you think?"
He looked rather amused by that question. He had a similar eye colour to her own, she noted with interest—though they were a smidge more blue than grey. Looking into them reminded her of looking into her father's eyes, which she found comforting. "Well, I'm sorry to say my theories aren't much more interesting than the public's—y'know, that you ran off to join your fugitive father on the run for the summer."
"Really," she said, trying not to give anything away. "I must be terrifying to you, then. Sirius Black is a known murderer—haven't you heard?"
His smile didn't falter; she clearly wasn't terrifying to him. "I haven't quite put all the pieces together yet," he admitted. "But something tells me there's a bit more to the story."
"Maybe." She grinned. "Or maybe those are your famous last words."
She could tell he wanted to ask her more about her father and her summer, but he didn't, which she appreciated. Instead, he asked her other questions—questions about her favourite spells and classes, her favourite books, and even her favourite foods. It was all very sweet, charming, and undeniably flirtatious.
By the time they circled back to their campsite, most of the kids had started making their ways out to start shopping and looting, as well.
"I'd better go and catch up with Dad," Cedric said to Ellie, seeming to sense that she'd want to go with them. "Have fun at the game. Catch up with you afterwards?"
So it would seem, she thought grimly; thanks to his insistence on setting up his tent near theirs, they'd be sleeping quite close together that night. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that one, but put on a smile and said, "Sounds good."
"Blimey, Ellie," said Ron as the rest of her group caught up with her and Cedric headed off. "Since when were you and Pretty Boy Diggory so chummy?"
"You know, Ellie," added Ginny with a teasing grin, "you really should have paced yourself better. Only your fourth year, and already dating the handsomest boy in school? What are you supposed to do next year?"
Ellie groaned as she shoved Ginny very hard for that comment. She snuck a peek at Fred, who, as expected, looked exceptionally glum. "I'm not dating anybody," Ellie said, mostly for his sake—though also because it was true. "We just went for a walk, is all."
"Cedric isn't Ellie's type, anyway," said Harry with a knowing grin in Ellie's direction. "Not funny enough."
That seemed to brighten Fred's spirits so much that Ellie forgave Harry for the tease.
Unfortunately, Fred's happiness was short-lived; only a matter of minutes later, they stumbled into one of his least favourite people in the world: Oliver Wood.
That wasn't entirely fair, Ellie mused as she stared in shock at the cocky, grinning face of the boy she'd spent half of the previous year dating. Fred didn't hate Oliver; he just heavily resented him for having dated Ellie.
"My, my," said Oliver, looking Ellie over from head to toe in a way that would have been massively offensive coming from anyone but him. "Look at you."
And then, suddenly, he was crossing the distance between them in three, long strides, grabbing Ellie by the waist, and planting a very dramatic kiss on her lips.
She didn't let it last long. She didn't necessarily owe it to Fred to cut it off, but considering his earlier plea with her to go easy on him with Cedric, she still felt a sense of obligation. It was nice kissing Oliver again, though—sentimental, in a strange way. Fun.
"Oh, Ollie," she said with an amused shake of her head when she pulled away from him. "Still haven't learned not to kiss girls without their permission?"
Several of the boys in the group sniggered at that, but Oliver didn't look remotely abashed. "Oh, Ellie—still pretending you don't like it? Kisses speak louder than words, you know."
Yet another thing that, on anyone but Oliver, would have been wildly unacceptable to say.
"It's great to see you, Oliver," said Harry, seeming to sense that the tension needed to be diffused. "What have you been up to since graduating?"
"I'm on a team," Oliver said brightly, though he didn't seem quite finished taking in Ellie's new appearance. "Puddlemere United. Reserve, for now—but just for now."
"That's great!" said Charlie, who had been Gryffindor Seeker prior to his graduation from Hogwarts. "Tell us more!"
As Oliver launched into the saga of how he made the team and what training had been like, Ellie floated to Fred's side at the back of the herd. He wasn't looking at her or at Oliver; he was looking down at the ground. He looked more than glum; he looked… heartbroken.
She didn't want that for him. He may have reaped all of this for himself when he rejected her last Christmas, but she still didn't want to hurt him like this.
"Hey," she said softly to him, brushing her fingertips against his. "I'm sorry that happened."
He glanced up at her, looking surprised—and just a little hopeful. For a second, he grasped her hand with his—almost as if using it as some sort of crutch. Then, seeming to sense that she hadn't intended to hold his hand altogether in front of so many people, he dropped it again.
"It's okay," he promised her. "But thank you for saying that."
"I can't believe he still hasn't manned up and asked you out."
She was with Oliver, waiting on the outskirts of a hushed conversation between Ludo Bagman, who had caught up with them near the stadium, and the Weasleys. The conversation had something to do with bets and wagers on who would win the game. Ellie, who had never been one for gambling, had opted out around the time Molly started begging her kids not to partake; Oliver, who said betting on his own sport would be a conflict of interest, had stepped away when she did.
"Well," Ellie admitted to Oliver with a bit of a frown, "he sort of has. At least, he's finally decided he has feelings for me."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "He's always had feelings for you. He's just finally admitted it."
She let herself smile at that.
"I am surprised, though," added Oliver thoughtfully. "That you didn't run straight into those open arms of his. Given, you know…"
She knew. She'd spent most of the past year pining for Fred, and they both knew it; it was the reason she and Oliver had broken up. It was even the reason they'd gotten together in the first place, in a way.
"It's just… hard," she admitted, frowning. "Hard to forgive him. Hard to believe him."
"Hard to put yourself at risk again," he added for her.
She nodded.
"Well, it's probably for the best," said Oliver with a bit of a grin. "Saw you strutting about with Cedric Diggory earlier. If I know Ellie Prince, he's the next guy she's dating—not goofy little Fred Weasley."
She knew he only meant to toy with her, but his words didn't sit well with her. They were exactly what Fred was fearing—exactly what was making his heart break.
So she leaned in close to him and said in a low, soft voice that only he could hear, "But I'm not Ellie Prince—I'm Ellie Black. And you don't know her quite as well as you think."
And with that, she walked away from him.
"George and I need this game to go a very specific way," Fred told Ellie a few minutes later, after they had taken their seats in the stands. The seats were shockingly good—right alongside Bagman, Crouch, and even Fudge—though disappointingly close to Draco Malfoy and both of his parents. "Ireland wins, but Krum catches the Snitch."
Ellie stiffened instinctively at the mention of Viktor Krum, the famous Bulgarian Seeker who, according to Aleks, was also a student at Durmstrang. Fred, being Fred, sensed it and instantly shot her an overly concerned look. Desperate to avoid any further mention of Aleks, she forced a smile and asked, "How many Galleons did you waste on that?"
"Waste?" repeated George from Fred's other side. "Hardly!"
From Ellie's other side, without lowering his Omnioculars, Harry told her, "Thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts."
"In other words, literally everything you had?" asked Ellie with an amused look of disapproval.
"Basically," admitted Fred. "But we've got this."
Ellie turned her attention toward the game at that. It was hard to focus on anything but the mascots—for Ireland, leprechauns who had a knack for throwing money into the stands; and for Bulgaria, breathtakingly beautiful creatures called Veela who seemed to send every man in the stands into cloudy-headed morons—that was, everyone except Fred.
"Don't get me wrong," he whispered to Ellie when she asked him about it after rescuing Harry from quite nearly jumping off their ledge to get to the Veela. "They're quite lovely, and all that. But I much prefer brunettes."
It was impossible for Ellie to hide how much his words pleased her, but she did her best.
The game was exciting, if fairly one-sided; Ireland were clearly the stronger team. But Krum was a sight to behold, and before long, Ellie started to get the feeling that the twins were right; despite the fact that Ireland was up by over a hundred and fifty, Viktor was going to be the one to catch the Snitch.
"No way," said Harry when Ellie voiced this observation out loud. "He'd lose the game for his team."
"Or spare them a more humiliating defeat," pointed out Fred.
"When's the last time we played Quidditch, anyway?" Ellie asked them as she observed Viktor Krum do a startlingly impressive fake-out. "We used to play every summer."
"You mean, besides the one where you and Harry played house?" teased George.
Fred nudged him pointedly, but Ellie only laughed. "Right—besides that one."
"We'll have a game when we get back," said Ron. "I've got to get Wood's old spot as Keeper. Who d'you reckon will be made captain?"
"Angelina," said Ellie, Harry, and the twins simultaneously. Being the eldest on the team besides Fred and George, and certainly one of the strongest players, it only made sense.
And that was when it happened—swiftly and suddenly. Viktor Krum made a brilliant and successful dive for the Snitch—just as Fred and George had predicted.
That Oliver really is a piece of work. And poor Fred - how much can a lovesick guy take? Love to hear your predictions for the year - and for the next chapter, which of course will cover the infamous night after the World Cup (Dark Mark in the sky, anyone?). Don't forget to review!
