The Happiest Night of Ila's life
(seriously, if someone were to kill her, she would die in peace. That is how amazing this - )
With Mr Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the woods, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; They walked through the woods for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last, they emerged on the other side.
"Woah," Ila breathed. They found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Ila could see only a fraction of the massive gold walls surrounding the field, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.
"Dad, can we get some stuff?" Ron said, pointing to the stalls surrounding the entrance of the stadium.
"Ron, the ministry had a task force of five hundred wizards working here all year, and getting knick-nacks is all that you care about?" Mr Weasley said, exasperated.
Ron looked thoughtfully at the stadium before looking back at his dad and nodded. Mr Weasley sighed but allowed the three to get something before they went inside. Many stalls sold various items for each team. Ila saw shamrock badges, the same ones Seamus and Cedric had worn, Russian winter hats for the Bulgarian team. There were plush toys of snitches, bludgers and quaffles. People were trying to convince others to buy beater's bats and brooms that were 'signed by the players themselves at the more unofficial looking stalls.'
"Look how cool this is," Ron said, shoving a figurine, of the Bulgarian seeker Viktor Krum, in Ila's face. He pushed a few things of the stallholders, such as t-shirts and other figures, away, causing him to glare at the three. But Ron placed the figure down and watched intensely as Krum walked back and forth at the newly formed pathway. Duck footed, he walked with a slouch, which didn't help dismiss the idea that he looked unhappy to Ila. She did have to agree with Hermione that he did look a bit sad but didn't have the heart to ruin Ron's spirits.
"Is that it?" Hermione asked after the third time Krum walked back and forth the pathway Ron had created for him.
"Nothing makes you happy, does it?" Ron said, picking the figure up before walking to the owner and asking how much it was.
"First, it's Percy with Crouch and now Ron with Krum," Ila said to Hermione, who smiled. "No wonder why some people think we're the ones who're in a relationship."
"It's only the creepy older guys that think that, Ila," Hermione said, picking up a brochure that had information about what was going to happen tonight, along with information about the teams. "Oh, would you look at that? Guess who's refereeing the match tonight?"
Hermione pointed to a picture of an Egyptian wizard, Hossain Mostafa.
"Hmm, maybe you should ask Ron if he said hello to him," Ila said, making Hermione laugh.
"It's still nice to see someone who isn't white be the head of anything really," Hermione said. "I think I'd want to work at the Ministry."
"Doing what?"
"I don't know…maybe I'll be the first Black female Minister of Magic," Hermione said proudly. "Or…whatever the female equivalent of a Minister would be."
"And when you do want to become the Minister of Magic, you know you'll have my vote."
"Well, what about you?" Hermione asked. "Would you work in the Ministry?"
"There's not much that you can do," Ila said. "…I don't know…."
It wasn't the idea of picking her lifelong career at the ripe age of eighteen that frightened her. After the dream of Voldemort, she knew that he was back. He had to be, it was too vivid for it to be just a dream, and she knew it wasn't a memory because of Pettigrew and all those women…Although she couldn't admit to herself, mainly because if she did, her mind would just…collapse at the thought…
But deep down, she knew that she would have to face him. She didn't know when; she didn't know how many times she would have to do so. Maybe it will be just one time, like back in the first year. Or maybe it will be multiple times. And maybe, during one of those times…she would fail.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Hermione said, rubbing Ila's arm. "You don't have to work in the Ministry. You could always go into…well, I'm sure some wizards have gone to university."
"Don't you need some qualification to get into it?" Ila asked as Ron was walking back to them. "Like, exams that are based on all the work you did at muggle school?"
"You have no idea what I just went through," Ron sighed, opening his hands. It was a singing clover, along with the figure of Viktor Krum and a pair of obscure binoculars. It was slightly bigger than the average pair, with hundreds of knobs all around it. "That owner is one of the stingiest people I have ever met! Right, basically…"
Ila left the two, walking towards the other side of the stall to find where those pairs of binoculars Ron had in his hands. She looked around, hoping that the stall owner would come and help her, but he was busy muttering angrily to himself. They weren't anywhere on the table. Maybe Ron found it on another table.
Looking to the stall on her right, she was right. There laid pairs of golden binoculars with a sign hovering above them labelled, "BUY TWO OMNIOCULARS AND GET ONE OTHER ITEM FOR FREE!"
Stepping towards it, she was grabbed a pair, only to find a pale, slender hand on top of hers. That definitely wasn't hers.
She looked up to meet a pair of widened grey eyes staring back at her. The two stayed like that, hands enveloped, gazing at each other. To the passers-by and stall owner, it would have seen that two teens had finally found the 'love of their life.'
But never in a million years would Ila Potter even think about Draco Malfoy as anything other than a mean spirited, prejudice, good for nothing brat!
When that realisation dawned on the two, they immediately retracted their hands. They took a few steps away from each other just for good measure.
"Potter," he said composed, "I didn't think you would be here."
"I didn't think that I would get assaulted by a white guy this early, and yet here we are," Ila drawled, wiping her hand on her trousers. He seemed to have grown a few inches, his trousers stopping just a few inches above his ankles.
Strange.
Surely someone like Malfoy would have been able to afford something like a new suit. His face seemed to look haughtier as if he's found more reasons as to why he should hate people that aren't him essentially. His slicked-back hair seemed to sharpen his features even more.
Ila wasn't the only one curious about how the other had grown. She followed his eyes that trailed her down before slowly waltzing back up, resting on her face. He didn't seem any bit embarrassed that she caught him.
"Like something you see?" he smirked.
Ila snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're the one who was staring at me."
"You're not that innocent either," he retorted.
"Piss off Malfoy," Ila muttered before grabbing two pairs of omnioculuars.
"Don't you want something else?" the owner asked, looking between her and Malfoy. "You can get some other item when you buy two omnioculuars."
"No, thank you," Ila said. "I just want these two, please."
"Are you sure?" the owner asked. "Your boyfriend doesn't have to pay for it; you can get anything!"
"No, I said – what?" Ila stilled her hand mid-air, which was just about to give the omnioculars. She could hear Malfoy clear his throat, fixing his collar. "Boyfriend?"
Oblivious, the owner took the omnioculars out of her hand, which remained in the air and said, "Oh my bad! Sorry, I'm always so behind with everything." Ila dropped her hand, breathing a silent relief. "You know, I think it's amazing that girls can pay for their boyfriends, you know – go women! I s'pose you could call me a feminist."
WHAT!
"Miss," Malfoy said, just as Ila was about to shout something, "I think you're a bit confused – you do know who I am, right?" He stepped back, his arms opening to show himself off to the owner. She looked thoughtfully at him as he pouted, pushing his hair back.
"Sorry dear, but you don't look familiar," the woman said softly, going back to packaging Ila's items.
Malfoy scoffed. "Seriously?"
"That's the hill you're going to die on?" Ila muttered.
"I'm a Malfoy. You know…the Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
"I've met far too many people than you've been alive…after a while, you tend to forget faces," the woman said.
"My father's one of the most important people in the Ministry."
"Look, dear, I'm not one for politics. I stopped paying attention after how Fudge handled the Wizarding War all those years ago. That useless prick!"
She finally finished packing up Ila's items, who couldn't help but ask the woman –
"Do you know who I am?"
"I told you I - " Ila lifted her fringe, flashing the lightning bolt scar carved on her forehead. The woman's eyes widened, trying to take in the entire scar. For once, Ila didn't feel uncomfortable at someone staring at her scar. She hoped all her smugness was transmitting to Malfoy. A shaky hand covered her mouth, and Ila thought it was now a good time to move back. She reached for her items to find the woman take her hand. "Oh, my Merlin…I didn't realise. I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine."
"You have got to be kidding!" Malfoy muttered angrily, throwing his hands up in the air.
"You know what, you can take anything you want, for you and your boyfriend," she said hurriedly, pushing a few items towards her.
"We're not together!" Malfoy shouted at the woman, slapping the items out of her hand. "And you would know that if you knew who I was!"
The woman remained quiet, staring at Malfoy. Ila glared at him only to see him look down at his hands, confused. He looked at the woman, opening his mouth, but the woman leaned over the table and grabbed his ear.
"I HAVE NEVER MET SUCH AN INSOLENT LITTLE BRAT!" People close by looked over at what was going on. Ron and Hermione walked towards them. The woman had walked around her stall, all the while keeping hold of Malfoy's ear. Any sign of regret Ila had assumed he felt was gone and instead replaced with anger.
"What's happening?" Hermione said, shocked as the three of them watched Malfoy argue with the older woman.
"Malfoy being Malfoy…bought a pair for you," Ila said, handing Hermione a pair. She then picked up a quill with red feathers and a gold tip. "And this for Ginny, c'mon, let's go."
"Prime seats!" A Ministry witch at the entrance checked their tickets, directing them to their seats.
Ila looked up at the infinite stairs that reminded her of the hill she had to climb this morning. Except, excitement was pumping adrenaline through her body, and she couldn't wait until she reached the top. They were carpeted in rich purple as everyone raced up them to see who would get to the Box first. Though, with people in front of them, it was hard to run up them. The further they got, the more wizards filtered away through doors left and right to them. All the way through were candles that had lit the path, along with the ceiling, which, similar to Hogwarts, showed what the weather looked like outside. With each step, another pump of excitement coursed through Ila's veins. She had to hold onto the handrail for fear of flying away. They kept climbing until Ila turned around to see that they were so far up that the bottom stairs looked like a speck of light.
They had finally arrived at their seats.
The Top Box was the highest point of the stadium, set halfway through the goalposts, which made Hogwarts' post look like loops of wire in comparison. Draped with red velvet, there were twenty or so gilts that stood in two rows. The Weasley's, Ila and Hermione filled the first row, and for the first time, Ila could truly appreciate the stadium. Thousands upon thousands of witches and wizards were taking their seats in the amphitheatre, all just as excited for the match to start. In between the two goal posts was a blackboard that travelled the entire width of the stadium. In gold handwriting were flashing advertisements that kept being wiped off and written again. The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family — safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burglar Buzzer…Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!...Gladrags Wizardwear — London, Paris, Hogsmeade…
As Ila looked around the rest of the Top Box, she was surprised to see a somewhat familiar creature, sitting a few seats away from her, a small, shivering creature who had their eyes covered by their hands.
"Do you see that?" Ila asked Hermione. Ron was too busy looking over the edge, testing how far he could go before he falls off. "Isn't that Dobby?"
Confused, Hermione sat closer to Ila. "I don't think that is," she said once she looked over the creature. "It's certainly a house-elf, but that's not him. What's that poor thing doing up here? They look terrified."
Ila cleared her throat in the hopes of catching the house elf's attention, but it seemed the house-elf too was scared to do anything. Hermione soon got from her seat and walked to the seats closest to the house-elf. Ila followed, praying that at least Ginny was paying attention to her brother.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked softly, wondering if she should touch the elf or would that terrify them more.
"I is not liking heights at all, miss, but my master sends me to the Top Box, and I comes, miss."
"Why would your master send you up here if he knows you're scared of heights?" Hermione asked.
"Master — master wants me to save him a seat, miss. He is very busy," the house-elf said, tilting her head towards the space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."
"Who's your master?" Ila asked.
The house-elf opened her eyes again at the second voice. "My master is Mr Crouch miss," – her eyes widened, enlarging her already big eyes as they rested on her scar – "and you is surely Ila Potter."
"I sure am."
"Mr Crouch, did you say?" Hermione said, aghast. "The same one who works for the ministry?"
Winky nodded shakily.
"Do you know Dobby?" Ila couldn't help but ask.
"Ila," Hermione said, "you can't just ask her something like that. That's like when Ron asked if I said hello to those Haitian wizards just because I'm from-"
"Dobby talks of you all the time, miss!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.
"How is he?" Ila said.
"Ah, miss," Winky said, shaking her head, "ah miss, meaning no disrespect, miss, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, miss, when you is setting him free."
"Why?" Ila said, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"
"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, miss," Winky said sadly, pointing to her head. "Ideas above his station, miss. Can't get another position, miss."
"Why not?" Ila said.
Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, miss."
Ila and Hermione stared at her blankly. "Paying?"
"Well, of course, he should be paid," Hermione said. "All the hard work they do and not even a penny?"
Winky looked quite horrified as she shook her head at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.
"House-elves is not paid, misses!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creature like some common goblin."
"I think what he's doing is right; why should he not want to be paid?" Hermione asked.
"Why should we?"
Hermione looked dumbfounded, unable to find the right words.
"I think we should go," Ila whispered to Hermione, pulling her away and waving Winky goodbye, even though she didn't see, with her hands back in her usual place. By the time Hermione and Ila were back to her seats (Ila was glad to see Ron was still there), Hermione could form words again.
"Why would wizards own house-elves without paying them?" Hermione asked. "That's horrible…it's…it's inhumane!"
"Well, they aren't really human, are they?" Ron said.
"That doesn't mean they should be treated any less," Ila said.
"Exactly," Hermione said. "It's discrimination; it's the same problems Ila, and I have to go through-"
"Yeah, but you're guys are humans-"
"While I think house-elf rights are an important issue, I don't think it's an issue that needs to be discussed during the Cup Final," Mr Weasley said behind them, giving the three a stern look, silencing them.
The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.
Mr Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Ila, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Ila's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how she was and introduced her to the wizards on either side of him.
"Ila Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Ila Potter…oh come on now, you know who she is…the girl who survived You-Know-Who... you do know who he is —"
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Ila's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
"Knew we'd get there in the end," Fudge said wearily to Ila. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house elf's saving him a seat…Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places... ah, and here's Lucius!"
Ila, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Dobby, the house elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy, a woman Ila supposed must be Draco's mother and Malfoy. He stood behind his parents. There was something off about their positioning. It seemed that his parents were trying to ignore him. They didn't once make a move for Malfoy to be introduced.
"Ah, Fudge," Mr Malfoy said, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa?"
"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy. "And who's that behind you?"
Ila's theories about the family were proved true at the sound of Fudge's question. Malfoy shifted from side to side while his father hesitated to say something. Ila saw Malfoy's mother touch her husband's arm before telling Fudge, "He's our son. Draco."
"Nice to meet you," Fudge nodded. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
Mr Malfoy flickered his eyes to Mr Weasley, then sweeping his eyes up and down the rows.
Malfoy's eyes followed his father, stopping on the trio. Specifically Ila. She waited for a reaction from him—a glare, perhaps. Malfoy probably thought it was Ila's fault for the older woman attacking him.
But there was nothing.
With glazed eyes, all he did was stare at her.
"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
"How…how nice," Mr Weasley said, with a very strained smile.
Mr Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione stared determinedly back at him. Ila knew exactly what was making Mr Malfoy's lip curl like that. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Surprisingly Draco didn't copy his father this time. Instead, he kept his head bowed and took his seat in between his mother and father.
"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Ila, and Hermione turned to face the field again.
"At least Malfoy didn't say anything," Hermione said.
"Bit weird, isn't it?" Ila asked the two.
"Would you rather him insult us in front of everyone then?" Ron said.
"No," Ila muttered to herself. "Just a bit strange. He was pretty talkative before and now…."
The next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box. "Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming. "Minister — ready to go?"
"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge said, sitting back comfortably.
Bagman cast a 'sonorous' charm for his voice to reach the thousands of witches and wizards that sat beneath them. He wasted no time in introducing the team's mascots, first with the Bulgarian team. As the crowd chanted their country's national anthem, Ila could even hear the Bulgarian Minister of Magic chant so loudly she struggled to hear Bagman; their mascots arrived. The crowd seemed to quieten down as the women began to dance. A group of the most beautiful women Ila had ever seen. They didn't seem to be human. There was no way. Their skin shone brighter than the moon, and their pure white hair fanned out behind them even without wind, which puzzled her. What confused her even more, was when she saw Ron stand up from his seat and walk towards the edge of the Top Box, but he wasn't the only one. Looking around, she saw that all the men in the Top Box were enamoured by the women, staring blankly at them, barring a few. Mr Weasley for one and…Malfoy?
"What?" he mouthed, and Ila quickly turned around.
The music increased faster, the beat of the drums getting louder. The women danced faster. Fred and George now joined Ron. All had their hands on the railing. Ron put his leg over the railing. He was about to jump off! Hermione and Ginny were also looking around, the latter concerned while the former couldn't look more unimpressed.
"What're you doing, Ron?" Hermione asked, clearly not sharing the same level of concern that Ila had. The music immediately stopped, and like the flick of a light switch, all the men were broken out of the trance. Many were embarrassed, such as Lucius Malfoy, who was sat next to his wife, while others were discreetly getting themselves back together again. Ron realised that where he was and quickly headed back to his seat.
He didn't respond, and even if he did, it would have been drowned out by the angry yells from the rest of the stadium, mainly from the men. They didn't want the women to go.
Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.
"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."
"Huh?" Ron said, staring open-mouthed at the women, who had now lined up along one side of the field. Hermione made a loud, tutting noise. She grabbed both the twins from the edge and back to their seats.
"Honestly!" she said.
"You can't blame us," Fred said from behind them.
"They're Veelas; what were we supposed to do?" George said. "They were made to seduce men like us."
"Well, maybe men like you should have more control over themselves," Hermione retorted before turning back around as Bagman introduced the Irish team mascots.
In the next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did a stadium circuit, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goalposts. A rainbow arched suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd ooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it —
"Excellent!" Ron yelled as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Ila realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.
"Leprechauns!" Mr Weasley said over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold. The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the Veela and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.
Soon Bagman introduced the Bulgarian team. Balls of red zoomed past the crowd before landing on the field. Once Bagman introduced Viktor Krum, Ron was too busy screaming. It seemed to Ila that he would jump off the ledge again. Using her omnioculars, she saw Viktor Krum, thin and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.
Bagman then introduced the Irish team, all of whom looked like green balls shooting out of the stadium, along with the referee, an Egyptian wizard called Hassan Mostafa. Hassan mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open – the four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, two black Bludgers, and for the briefest of seconds, Ila saw the golden flicker the Snitch before it disappeared. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls. Ila couldn't help but feel some pride when he walked on, even though he didn't know who the man was.
"Annnnnnnnnd theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"
This was Quidditch that Ila had never seen before. Usually, there were many more rules when playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, probably because the school didn't want to deal with the number of threats from parents every time a student was hurt. But in the stadium now, it didn't matter if there were injuries; in fact, it excited the crowd more when there were. Ila soon figured out that while the Irish's team worked seamlessly together, bringing the scores up to thirty – zero within ten minutes, the Bulgarian team were much stronger, more brutal. Their team heavily relied on their beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov. They whacked the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova, the Bulgarian Chaser, managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.
"Dimitrov! Levski!" Bagman roared "Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh what's that?"
Thousands of wizards held their breath as they watched the two seekers, Krum and Lynch plummet through the Chasers so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from aeroplanes without parachutes. Ila tried her best to see where the Snitch would be, but even with her omnioculars, she couldn't see a blur.
At the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.
"Fool!" Mr Weasley moaned. "Krum was feinting!"
"It's time-out!" Bagman yelled, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"
"He'll be okay. He only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course..."
Ila hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes.
She watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion.
WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT — DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses.
Lynch got to his feet to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland a new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything Ila had seen so far. There were many times that Ila had replay plays that the Irish team had done. To name a few, there was the Formation Looping – in which chasers throw the quaffle back and forth to keep the Bulgarians on their toes, the Starfish and Stick – where the Keeper has one foot on the broom and all other limbs stretching out in front of the goalposts to stop any incoming Quaffles thrown from the Bulgarians, Ron's favourite which was Transylvanian Tackle. This was when one of the Irish Chasers pretended to punch the nose of the Bulgarian chaser to distract him. It was technically allowed since it was non-contact. Still, when Ila replayed it through Omniscopes, there seemed to be blood coming out of the Bulgarian's nose.
Ila checked the large clock below the Top Box. There were only five minutes left of this game. She crossed her fingers that it would end up being a draw, so she didn't have to go back to Hogwarts for another six months as the players started.
"How strange! It seems that the Irish aren't…playing – is – is that allowed?"
The referee shrugged but made no move to stop them.
"They only need ten more points! What're they doing?" Fred yelled, in fear of losing his bet, all because it seems the Irish are protesting.
Ila used her Omniculurs to see what exactly was going on. She turned the knob to zoom all the way in. She stood up from her seat and stopped at the barriers. She watched the Bulgarian players look confused but still took the opportunity to score an easy goal for them. The Irish players looked at each other and moved their hands in what seemed to be a secret language. The crowd was a cacophony is cheers and boos from the Bulgarian and Irish supporters, respectively.
"They've really done it this time!" one of the Ministry officials yelled from the Top Box. Ila went back to the Irish. They stopped communicating. With one final nod from their team captain, they finally moved.
"The Irish seemed to be keeping up with their strange behaviour," Bagman said. "They're moving all the way to the height of the goalposts…whatever could they be doing?"
While they were closer to Ila than down on the pitch, the omniculars remained firmly on her face, not wanting to miss out on anything. They were so close; she could hear their conversation between them.
"READY? THREE…TWO…NOW!"
The three chasers dived headfirst back into the pitch. But that wasn't what surprised them. Green, white and orange mist flew out of their brooms, covering the whole pitch. The crowd screamed in delight. The Irish mascot took the hint and started flying to the sky, zooming around the pitch to keep their morale high. Mostafa quickly tried to get them off the pitch. The Bulgarian players were confused. They tried wading through the mist, but they were unable to see. Unfortunately to the Bulgarians, none of the chasers could see the incoming Bludgers heading their way.
"AND DOWN GOES TWO OF THE BULGARIAN'S CHASERS!"
Ila could see the confusion on the remaining chaser with the mist starting to thin out, unsure of how his teammates had fallen. A sudden blob of gold had blocked her view. She took her Ominculurs off. The Snitch was right in front of them.
"That's the Snitch!" Ron yelled from beside her. The rest of the Weasley's and Hermione had also joined her. "That's the fucking Snitch! Krum! Over here! We have the snitch!"
"Language Ron," Mr Weasely warned, though he didn't seem that angry. The twins had followed suit and also yelled for Krum's attention. It wasn't until Ila remembered their bet that she and the rest of them waved their arms widely while they screamed their heads. It seemed to have worked.
Ila was struggling to keep her attention on Krum and the Irish at the same time. As Krum was flying towards the Top Box, the Irish had managed to catch the Quaffle, but they were on the wrong side. They passed the Quaffle to each other. But the Bulgarians weren't giving up. The Beaters were hitting the Bludgers left and right, trying to stop the Irish from getting to goalposts. Lynch had finally realised what happened and followed Krum. Krum glanced behind before realising he needed to go quicker. He leaned forwards, accelerating his broom. One of the bludgers missed the captain by a few inches, who had finally reached their goalposts.
"Ebasi maikata!" Krum swore.
The Bulgarian keeper sized up the Irish team captain, trying to intimidate him. The team captain flew back before stopping. Lynch caught up to Krum. The captain drew his arm back and flew towards the goals. Lynch and Krum were head to head. They were so close, Ila no longer needed the Ominiculurs. She could see the concentration on both men's faces. Their hands were stretched out. They started pushing each other. The Snitch was starting to become impatient, floating end to end of the Top Box, until landing in front of Hermione, who was too busy watching the team captain to notice. The team captain yelled as he threw the ball with all of his might. Krum leaned forward. The entire stadium was quiet. It seemed that the ball was travelling in slow motion; everyone watched as the Quaffle flew just past the Keeper's hands and into the goal at the same time as Krum's hand grasp around the Snitch, stopping just before he crashed into Hermoine.
It took a minute before the stadium erupted into cheers that were louder than any before. The Irish mascot mimicked fireworks and fulminated, releasing millions of Galleons into the stadium. At the same time, green, orange and white flashed the pitch. The Irish team rugby tackled each other in happiness onto the ground. In contrast, the Bulgarian team flew down, their tails in between their legs. All apart from one.
Viktor Krum hadn't moved. He stared at Hermione, opposite him. Even with the Bulgarian Minister going up to him and tried to shake his hand, he stayed where he was. It wasn't until the team captain pulled Krum away from the Top Box, did he move.
"What was that?" Hermione whispered to Ila.
"He's probably still in shock that Bulgaria lost!" Ron said though he sounded far too cheerful. Someone in the Top Box had a bottle of champagne. The sound of the cork being popped caught Ila's attention. Wine spurted out of the bottle. Everyone yelled, clapping their hands, some even singing. Ila had joined in. Arm in arm with the Weasley's, they celebrated the night away.
AN: If it wasn't obvious already, this is a re-telling of Harry Potter but with a few changes. For this chapter and the next, a few things have stayed the same in the book. While I tried my best to change most things, some are pertinent to the story and would be redundant for me to change.
Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story!