Chapter 4 - Quidditch World Cup

A/N: I'm changing Quidditch. 150 points for a snitch is stupid, so it's 55 now. This also prevents any silly ties. There's also 4 bludgers, so Beaters can't just each babysit a bludger to make the game boring that way. I'm introducing a bit of terminology during the match later in the chapter.

They arrived early morning by portkey - the match would be the next day, but they wanted to be close to the stadium, and settle in for a bit. The Potters, the Blacks, and Hermione would share a tent. It was a rather basic wizarding tent - Sirius had bought it. James and Lily had one room, Sirius and Marlene another, then there was a bigger one for the four girls and a smaller one for Harry and John.

Sirius and James decided that as fathers, they would set it up Harry, Iris and Hermione meanwhile went to go have a look around the campsite. They started scouting their immediate surroundings, as well as figuring out where the amenities were. The Potter elves would provide their food, but the water station was close by enough that it was no hindrance to use it. Before they took water, they visited some of the stalls that were selling things related to the Quidditch world cup. This early in the morning, there weren't many in business yet, and most would focus on the next day to bring most business anyway - that was when the match itself took place.

They found themselves some omniculars, which had very nice zooming functions, as well as allowing the user to record sections and, a new functionality, somewhat change the angle from which you could watch the plays. While the girls also bought some Ireland paraphernalia, Harry skipped on these. Just like last time around, he thought Ireland had the better chance of victory, despite Krum definitely being better than Lynch.

When Harry spotted two silver haired girls, he was sort of surprised. He'd known they attended the world cup - Fleur had told him - but he hadn't spotted them last time. It also gave him the same familiar ache in his heart that he felt when he first met Hermione - Fleur had died several weeks before the final battle, merely because they'd already lost all their other healers and didn't have anyone left to save her. Gabrielle, a bit over three years younger and about Harry's age, had fought in the final battle, and he didn't even know if she'd survived. She'd been a bit of a pyromaniac, even for a Veela. She had been the only one matching his own skill with Fiendfyre on their side of the war.

They were drawing nearer, and he decided to give at least Iris a bit of a warning.

$Nest-mate. They are Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour. Fleur has three years on us, while Gabrille is half a year younger. They're Veela from France.$

$Friends of yours?$

$They were trusted friends and powerful allies. But due to being Veela they were quite aloof at first, almost arrogant - all Veela have bad experiences with others when their allure runs wild during puberty. But once they are friends, they are friends forever.$

Getting close, he turned to them, meeting their rather cold gazes. So far, he hadn't really done anything different from most guys, who'd typically proceed to drool at this point. So he'd have to show them a bit of difference...

He spoke in fluent French:

"Good morning, ladies. I hope you're supporting Ireland just like us?"

He'd shocked them into at least half a second of silence. Fleur did recover first, slightly tilting her head in curiosity.

"Of course. It's going to be a Chasers' game."

"See, Quidditch can unite even the French and the Brits."

"Speaking of that, how are you aware that we are French?"

"Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to introduce us. This is my twin sister, Heiress Iris of House Potter. And Miss Hermione Granger, her best friend. I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you."

He noticed Gabrielle starting, and attempting to get her sister's attention.

"My sister, Miss Gabrielle of House Delacour. I'm the Heiress, Fleur. Weren't you going to say how you know we're French?"

Harry smiled back at her. "Well, both of you are obviously Veela. Judging by your hair color, you have to be related to the Silver court, which is in France. Of course, it could have been that your mother had emigrated, but that's not likely."

"You seem awfully informed about Veela culture, mister Potter." Fleur replied "How come?"

Harry shrugged. "Picked some things up here and there. It helps to not stand around drooling."

"Yes, I noticed. Did you train self-control?"

"Sort of. I was already mostly resistant, but between a few Imperius curses and assistance of a Veela friend of mine, I'm quite confident I can handle your allure at full blast."

"A pleasant surprise."

At this moment Iris butted in.

"Ok, l've waited long enough. You ARE aware I don't speak French, right?"

At the same moment, Gabrielle grabbed her sister's attention, and Harry didn't exactly hear what she said, so he excused himself to Fleur, and asked Iris.

$So what's up nest-mate?$

Iris tilted her head in exasperation.

$I don't like Speaking in public. But can we switch to English?$

$Gabrielle doesn't speak English yet.$

He turned back to the girls, who were watching him in surprise. He estimated that if they'd been a little less dignified, their mouths'd be hanging open.

He attempted to smile innocently, and put his question in French again.

"Is something the matter?"

Gabrielle eyed between them, but Fleur recovered first.

"You're both Parselmouths?"

"Indeed. It is a inheritable Trait, after all."

Gabrielle interrupted them excitedly. "That's totally awesome!"

Harry grinned. "I'm glad you think so."

"Does Ir- miss Potter speak French?"

"I'm afraid not, miss Delacour. Why so? You want me to translate something?"

"It's just so amazing I finally get to meet her! I want to be a heroine like her!"

Harry's smile slightly cracked. It was true the Gabrielle he'd known before had had a fan girl crush on him, but by the time they'd really started interacting, Fleur'd already gotten her over most of it. Obviously, it wasn't progressed that far here yet.

"Gabrielle?" He spoke in a more serious tone, demanding her full attention. He'd often used it when giving orders before a battle.

"Iris doesn't like her fame. She doesn't remember what happened, and the only thing it means for her is to lose her grandparents." He lowered his voice some more. "And even then, it's very likely that she survived because of something our grandmother Dorea Potter did. I'll translate for you if you want, but if you try ask about that night, I will not. Understood?"

Gabrielle had gotten a bit more quiet, and looked down, drawing in the sand with a single shoe. Then she looked up, clearly reluctant, and nodded.

"Ok, fine."

Harry turned to Iris, switching to English.

"Iris, may I introduce Miss Gabrielle of House Delacour."

Then he turned to Gabrielle.

"Miss Delacour, may I introduce Heiress Iris of House Potter."

They shook hands, and exchanged a "pleased to meet you" in their respective languages.

Harry looked towards Fleur, and lowered his voice while the two girls were introducing.

"Miss Delacour? Could I request you a small favor?"

"That entirely depends on the favor in question, Mister Potter."

"Could you temper her hero worship a bit? It's not that my sister isn't amazing, but it makes her really uncomfortable. If your sister wants to befriend mine… that's how you could help her."

Fleur eyed him carefully. "Consider it done, as long as it's not at too inconvenient a moment."

"You have my gratitude."

Fleur smiled at him. "You're welcome. Call me Fleur."

"Then call me Harry."

Fleur now switched to heavily accented English, and Harry introduced her to Iris and Hermione as well - the latter of which spoke a bit of French but hadn't been able to keep up with Harry's and Fleur's speed. They spend a bit more time around the stalls together, before the Delacours had to get back - they'd promised a tight time frame to their father, whom they considered overprotective, but which Harry silently considered warranted.

The next day, early morning, the Weasley's arrived at their camping spot - adjacent to the Potters'. They'd warned Ron about Harry's existence by owl, but also requested him to keep the twins outside the loop. After all, a good prank was the best way to introduce yourself to them. The evening before, Harry spoke to Iris for a moment.

"I'm afraid we can't let Ron know that I came from another world."

"Why not. Yours wasn't trustworthy?" Iris looked offended at the mere thought.

"I could fully trust his intentions. However, the Ron I knew was never able to learn any measure of Occlumency. Therefore, I couldn't rely on him to keep any secrets. He even managed to make his peace with not knowing about all operations."

Iris sighed. "Ok. But can we please not lie to him?"

Harry smiled softly. "I won't tell a single lie to him. I owe that to my Ron."

Because only he knew about Harry's existence, Ron came over first thing in the morning after the Weasleys arrived.

"So you're Harry Potter?"

"That's me. So you're Ron Weasley?"

"So why haven't I heard of you before?"

"Because nobody else had. Iris didn't know either. I wasn't raised by my parents. James and Lily didn't even know I was alive during that time. Neither me nor my caretakers were familiar with the greater wizarding world, even though I learned a lot of magic. After my caretakers died, I managed to find my way to my family. It turns out I was born the same day as Iris, but she's still the Heiress, as she came into this world first of course."

Ron frowned. Then he looked at Iris and Hermione for confirmation.

"All true." Iris said. And it was. Just not the truth Ron though he heard. Did she have the same Slytherin potential as her brother showed?

Hermione was still deep in thought analyzing what Harry said, exactly like she expected. Iris' best friend was probably spending a lot of time trying to figure her brother out - they'd better teach her Occlumency and tell her fast.

"I'm sorry, but..." Ron paused. "It just feels odd how fast they accepted you."

Harry nodded. "I let mom in my mind with legilimency. She's seen my entire life up until this point. And well…let's say that Iris and I have plenty in common that nobody would guess."

He raised his hand, and lifted the fringe, showing his scar. Like Iris', it was a thin white line. At the exact same place and shape. Ron's eyes grew in surprise.

"Fair enough. So what were you planning with the twins?"

Harry grinned. "You ever wanted to get them with a prank they can't possibly match?"

A pair of completely unaware, mostly innocent Weasley twins was just crashing down on their beds after their father had finally given up on setting the tent up the muggle way, and just cast the proper spell.

"How long was that, brother mine?"

"Must have been at least three hours."

"And I believe ickle Ronniekins chickened out on us."

"To right, my brother. We owe him some attention for that."

They spend a few moments bouncing ideas, until they were interrupted by the targeted Weasley entering the tent.

"Ehm, Fred, George?"

He looked pretty nervous. With good cause, if he'd listened in.

"What is it?" Twin A answered.

"I, ehm. There's a-." He collected himself. "The two of you are really good with potions, right?"

Twin B raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking? You really don't want us to help with your essays..."

"...not when you have access to Hermione." Twin A finished.

"It's not that. It's about Iris." He said before Twin B could add something, and nervously licked his lips. "There's been a bit of a potions accident, absolutely nobody knows or can know, and we really need help badly."

Now that was interesting. "What happened?"

"I.. you wouldn't believe me anyway. Can you come with me to the Potter-Black tent?"

The twins exchanged a glance, shrugged, and got up.

They entered the Potter tent, and Ron brought them to what they assumed to be their girl's shared room. They noticed what looked like Iris, but the black hair looked to be much shorter.

Ron spoke "Iris?"

The person turned around. It was Iris, but it wasn't… her. Or at least, it wasn't a her.

"Hey guys." Iris-the-boy said. "I think the problem was with polyjuice and a bit of aging potion, but after it wore off… I didn't change completely back." He looked a bit uncertain. "Please tell me you have an idea how to fix this?" His voice cracked a bit, and he looked really uncertain.

The twins gaped for a few moments.

Then the first one started.

"Well, first thing I can think off probably won't work. We could try to hide it while we work on a fix? Basically like glamours."

"We could try the reverse process, but we would have to figure out if the polyjuice would need alteration, and a part of who you'd need… save some of your old hairs or nail clippings, just in case."

"Meanwhile, polyjuice for small bits of time, cause otherwise you'll trip the stairs to the girl dormitories. Glamour for the rest. Polyjuice is to hard to make for extended periods of time."

Then they heard a loud giggle, and saw Iris-the-boy pout in a rather fake manner, then wave his wand before his expression morphed into a grin. They saw an Invisibility Cloak slide of a very much female Iris.

"Gotcha!"

They gaped at her. Then they looked at Harry. Then at Iris again.

Then they repeated four more times, just because they could appreciate a good prank, which is when Harry stopped them.

"Gred, Forge, nice to meet you. I'm Harry."

The left twin blinked.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Fred."

"And I'm George. I see you've already heard of us."

They both extended a hand, the ones closest to the other twin. It was a rather standard way for them to confuse others, but Harry didn't miss a beat and shook their hands at the same time.

"The two of you aren't easy to miss. But now we got a pair of Potter twins as well." He grinned. "And since we're Prongs' own spawn..."

"If you don't mind us asking..."

"Where DO you come from?"

Harry waved the question away. "Long story short, got raised somewhere else and finally found my family. I'm sure Ron will be delighted to tell you."

Late that afternoon, they all went to the stadium in one big group. Ginny had met Harry shortly after the twins, and luckily didn't suffer from silly crushes. She did have a small amount of I-wanna-be-like-Iris, but it felt far less unhealthy than what his own Ginny had had at her current age. She'd grown out of that, though. Thank Merlin and Morgana.

It turned out that in this world, it'd been the Potter family Bagman had given the top box tickets to, so it seemed Harry was doomed to share it with Fudge and the Malfoys again. According to Iris, little Malfoy was a bit more bearable - James Potter had as much influence in the ministry as big Malfoy, and Lily was very active for charities, and did spell research on the side. This basically meant that little Malfoy saved his temper tantrums to moments where Iris had either no witnesses, or to her friends while Iris wasn't there. He'd also never threatened her with his father - apparently he knew that James had been the auror to arrest his father.

The blonde still sneered at them, though silent about it. They weren't surprised by Harry's existence - apparently news had started to leak out after James had enrolled him in Hogwarts. Well, they hadn't exactly been trying to keep it secret.

Surprisingly, Narcissa and Lily got somewhat along. They'd apparently worked together on a charity funding a new wing of St. Mungo's. They also knew that their progeny didn't share their companionship, so they sat next to each other on the second row, while their respective Lords sat on either side of Minister Fudge on the front row. While they didn't get along as well as their wives, they were perfectly capable of pretending not to hate each other.

After all of them had settled down, it turned out the Bones' had the last few seats. Amelia, Director of the DMLE, with her niece, Susan. Amelia was a brunette, but was starting to go grey quite heavily. Either she aged fast, or being DMLE Director was a stressful job. She was only about 60, after all. Her grandniece, Susan, was of course Harry's age - same as the world he'd come from. She had coppery-red hair, quite broad shoulders for a girl, but was definitely… shaped very feminine for the rest. Both had apparently also already heard of Harry, and as such, introduced themselves without showing surprise. It turned out the other Potters had their habitual seating not yet including Harry, so he sat on the side - ending up next to Susan, who had Amelia on her other side. Harry did notice that Susan slightly blushed when he kissed her hand, but didn't comment on it.

He didn't have time to start a conservation with her, as Bagman activated his sonorous.

"Welcome, everyone, to the 424th annual Quidditch World Cup final!"

The stadium responded to him with a collective cheer.

"It's been a good bracket this year. We've seen amazing play all around the World Cup, and I have complete faith that this Final will be remembered for a long time. But now, the mascots of Bulgaria!"

A group of Veela entered the pitch, allure on full blast. Harry could feel it tug on his mind, but shoved it aside with occlumency. He looked around. The women, of course, weren't affected. James Potter wasn't entirely resisting, but he did enough to not stand up. Sirius was slightly less in control, standing up until his wife kicked his shins, bringing his mind back to earth and made him sit down again. His son John, of course, hadn't touched puberty yet and as such was completely unaffected.

Looking to his other side, he spotted the Bones' ladies also amusedly looking towards the male antics. Susan was the first to make a remark.

"You seem remarkable unaffected, mister Potter."

"Thank you, miss Bones." Harry smiled. "I wonder how resistant, though. After all, I still think they're all smoking hot, even if I don't think acting like a moron will somehow bring me to their attention positively."

Amelia cut in. "That doesn't say much, Potter. There's a number of objective advantages Veela have which tend to make them highly attractive."

Susan pouted slightly. "Unfair, always having that perfect skin of theirs."

Harry intervened. "Well, there's such a thing as to perfect. Most of them don't go that far, but in some cases they start to look a bit like..." he searched for a word that wasn't 'plastic' - he needed these two pureblood witches to understand. "... a bit like a pretty golem. Pretty, yes, but artificial. Even just a few freckles or something make a girl much more pretty and approachable."

He did notice a small smile on Susan's face, who did sport a few freckles, but the Veela had apparently done their bit, and settled down their side of the field. Bagman took the word again, after the allure was dropped which had affected him. He hurriedly put his shirt back on to the relief of all women present, and resumed his announcements.

"And now, the Irish mascots!"

A comet of shining green shot into the stadium. After crossing the pitch, it divided into two, and flew over the stands, dropping wat looked like gold. Some of it ended up in the top-box, but most went to the middle ranks of the stadium.

Harry picked one up, and looked at it closely.

"Hey, leprechaun gold. I've never seen it up close before."

Amelia was the one that responded. "Every year again we get a few who try to pay with that stuff. You can spot it with a simple Finite."

Harry bit the coin. "So what is it? Hard, glamoured air? It definitely doesn't give a metallic taste."

She shrugged. "Don't know, don't really care."

Harry pouted at her. "No time for a bit of idle curiosity, Director?"

Amelia gave a sound that somehow managed to be both a sigh and a chuckle. "I've got far to much things that are more dangerous that I have to be curious about. And when I'm free like right now..."

"Fair enough." Harry breathed on the coin. Despite being cold to the touch, it didn't condense. Perhaps not cold enough? Or it wasn't relevant. Then he tossed it aside, aiming for Sirius' head while the man was looking the other way. The first thing that happened was that Sirius tossed a coin at James' head. They exchanged a few words, then looked Harry's way, before he had to duck when several coins were thrown at his somewhat guilty grin.

"Prat".

Harry looked the other way, where Susan was rubbing her shoulder. "They didn't throw that hard."

She raised her nose in the air, but couldn't prevent an amused smile. "Next time, sit still and take the retaliation like a man, instead of endangering a woman."

However, Harry couldn't respond before Bagman started his commentary again, and both of them turned their attention towards the pitch.

"Everyone please welcome the team of Bulgaria." Bagman's voice echoed around the stadium. "Dimitrov, Captain Ivanova, Levski, Vulchanov, Volkov, Zograf, and Krum!" Seven streaks of scarlet entered the pitch, as the Bulgarian players lapped the pitch in formation - their Chasers, Dimitrov, Ivanova and Levski - in a wide triangle, their Beaters on equal height behind them and slightly centered compared to the outer chasers, Krum above them in the middle, and Keeper Zograf mirroring him below the others. And just like last time, all of them seemed to be on Firebolts. Unlike last time, he could actually make out how young Krum still was, instead of everyone looking adult to him like they'd did when he was fourteen in mind instead of only in body.

"And please welcome, the Irish team! Mullet, Troy, Moran, Connolly, Quigley, Captain Ryan, and Lynch!"

As they flew their own lap around the pitch, Harry could just make out the nervous look on Seeker Lynch's face. He knew he was up against the best, and he hadn't been playing very well this tournament - it'd been the Irish chasers who'd ruled the skies and advanced them to the finals.

"And our referee, Hassan Mostafa."

The referee wore an eye-watering golden robe that Dumbledore would have been proud of, and had an impressive black mustache on his face, while his bald head reflected the stadium lights. He walked to the center of the pitch, and the players formed up around him. He opened the chest with the balls - the snitch leaving sight immediately, all four bludgers going high and two to each half to await the game start. The referee took the quaffle, and started the match by throwing it high in the air.

The game was just as fast-paced, adrenaline-pumping and amazing as it was last time Harry watched it. Much true to his memory, the Irish Chasers started off strong. He didn't remember enough to tell if it went the exact same, but the difference wasn't big so far. Troy scored twice and Moran once before Ivanova managed to sneak one in for the Bulgarians. A goal from Mullet and Troy again, and tensions were rising.

A snitch would only get a team fifty-five points. With ten points for each quaffle scored, this made ties impossible, but Ireland was rapidly approaching that point where it wouldn't matter anymore who caught the snitch.

The Bulgarian Levski snuck in a goal, and then suddenly Harry noticed Krum undertake a dive at full speed, Lynch behind him. Harry scanned the route, but saw nothing… just like last time around.

"Feint." he whispered.

And indeed - Krum pulled up close enough to the ground that he had to pull up his knees besides his broom to avoid digging into the grass, and Lynch got the front end of his broom into the pitch, catapulting him off. While two medi-wizards hurried towards him to check up on Lynch, Krum spend his time looking for the snitch unmolested except from a revenge bludger he easily dodged. What looked like a somewhat rough Enervate later, Lynch got on his broom and back into the air. The Irish managed to get a 60 point lead, but due to a nice synchronization involving a Chaser and two simultaneous bludgers at the Irish Keeper, Bulgaria turned it back into a Seeker's Game, the name of the game phase where a snitch catch would decide the winner.

"Harry, how did you know that was a feint?" Susan asked softly, not taking her eyes of the plays.

"I didn't see the snitch."

He could almost hear the frown in her voice. "Well, ok, but they are professional Seekers. We're not."

"I'm not?" Harry grinned, and Susan gave him a short glare. Harry amended "I'm not bad at Seeker. The special thing about a Wronski Feint is that you try and make it look like you're hiding the snitch behind your body from the other Seeker, the same way you'd try to hide it if you have the opportunity. The hard part is pulling off that element of deception. So Lynch thought the snitch was behind Krum from his point of view, while we saw it from the side, giving us an angle to spot the snitch if it had been there."

"Huh." Susan muttered. "Interesting." She glanced at him sideways. "But I guess I should have expected something like that from the son of Lord Potter and the brother of Iris."

Harry remembered a bit of quidditch practice he'd done with Iris, who was an amazing Chaser just like dad. While he was easily her level at catching, his throws were… quite a bit worse. He was glad he didn't about the fact that a girl was better at aiming than he was.

They watched Ireland secure a Chasers Lead - a 60 point or higher advantage.

Harry smiled at Susan. "Well, we like what we like, right? You play in the Puff team?"

"Nah, not good enough at throwing for Chaser, not reckless enough for Seeker, and after Auntie taught me a bit of duelling I dodge far to much for Keeper or Beater. But I love to watch."

The Irish increased their lead more, despite Krum taking more and more time to harass them out of formation, but a Seeker couldn't do that much compared to other Chasers - they could kick the quaffle but not hold it.

"Irish have won, Susan. Five Galleons say that Krum still catches the snitch?"

"Sorry, but I know to much about quidditch to think that Lynch has a chance even if Krum's occupied with the chasers."

"Aw, you're to smart for my own good."

"Family defect. Sorry."

That had Harry double up in laughter, then look at her. She at least had the decency for a faint blush along with her grin.

"I'm remembering and stealing that one."

"Good boy. Now watch the match instead the innocent girl you're seated next to. If you can resist the Veela..."

"Yes Ma'am."

A silence fell, and some ten minutes later, Krum indeed snatched the snitch from right under Lynch's nose, ending the game with 115 against 180, handing victory to Ireland. At this point, it was more about salvaging their honor.

They slowly exited the stadium. The Malfoys left first, which drew Harry's extra alert attention, but he saw nothing suspicious. They all grouped down the stairs easily, which made Harry wonder why they didn't just have short-distance portals teleporting them down, like the portal to platform 9¾ which teleported them several hundred metres horizontally. He said goodbye to the Bones', and everyone retreated to their tents in peace.

Harry did put down a few wards in case, and went to bed. He was unable to sleep, until sadly proven right.

The Knights of Walpurgis had chosen this night to remember old times.