Chapter 4 - Quidditch World Cup

Emma followed beside Mr Weasley and the others in silence, though it certainly wasn't quiet. In the darkness of the forest, on both sides, she could see more lantern lit paths leading to the stadium and thousands of people were following them. She could hear their cacophonous footsteps, the excited chatter and shouting, and it was infectious. Even though Emma knew this game would be as boring as any other, she couldn't help smiling, and, given the amount of spectators, people watching would be an adequate distraction.

It took about twenty minutes to get through the woods and there, ahead of them, was a pristine gold structure of mind boggling dimensions. The only thing even comparable to her was the Room of Hidden Things in Hogwarts, and she was sure it could fit inside this stadium, at least by width. She still hadn't gone deep enough in there to find the far side yet, if there even was one.

'Seats a hundred thousand.' noted Mr Weasley. 'Ministry Taskforce of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-repelling charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again. Bless them.'

Emma just glared, thinking what it must be doing to Mr Roberts at the entrance.

'Prime seats!' said a Ministry witch, as they approached the bottom of some stairs. 'Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go.'

They followed the directions and climbed step after step. It was adorned with very nice deep-purple carpets. As they climbed, the people following them began to break away, taking doors on the right and left, taking their places in the stadium, leaving just the Weasley's and company heading to the top.

When they finally arrived, out of breath, Emma was a little disappointed. The room they were in was quite small and packed in were twenty-four equally purple chairs with gold trim. The room was at the very centre of one side of the pitch, exactly half-way between the post things at either end of the pitch. On the opposite side was a massive blackboard with advertisements on. It was also extremely loud, even up and away from the other spectators. The excited chattering and shouting drowned out everything quieter than loud talking and it was giving Emma a headache. A curious look around the room itself revealed they weren't alone, despite seemingly being the first there. In one of the seats at the back was a creature. Emma couldn't be sure, but it looked like Harry's description of the house-elf that nearly killed him in their second year.

'Dobby?' asked Harry, surprised, noticing the elf too.

The elf was covering its face with its fingers and trembling, but raised its head and parted the fingers slightly at being spoken to.

'Did sir just call me Dobby?' squeaked the creature in a very high-pitched voice.

Ron, Hermione and even Mr Weasley turned to look too, curious.

'Sorry, I just thought you were someone I knew.' said Harry.

'But I knows Dobby too, sir!' squeaked the elf, still shaking and covering her eyes again, like she was scared. 'My name is Winky, sir, and you, sir, you is surely Harry Potter.'

'Yeah, I am.' said Harry, sighing a little.

'But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!' she said, lowering her hands a bit.

'How is he?' asked Harry. 'How's freedom suiting him?'

'Ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when setting him free.'

'Why?' asked Harry, confused. 'What's wrong with him?'

'Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir.' she said, sadly. 'Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir.'

'Why not?'

Winky lowered her voice and leaned forward to whisper.

'He is wanting paying for his work, sir.'

'You say that as if you're not paid?' asked Emma, horrified.

Winky turned to Emma, matching her expression.

'House-elves is not being paid for work, miss!' she squeaked, almost angrily, turning back to Harry. 'No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go 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 Creatures, like some common goblin.'

'Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun.' smiled Harry.

'House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter.' said Winky, firmly, from behind her hand-hidden face. 'House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir.'

'That's horrible!' gasped Hermione, as Emma nodded in agreement. 'Cruel even.'

'Why's he sent you up here if he knows you don't like heights?' frowned Harry.

'Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told, Winky is a good house-elf.'

With that she hid her face again and it seemed she was done, refusing to continue talking. Harry turned back to Ron, while Emma and Hermione shared disgusted glances. These house-elves were treated like slaves. Emma really didn't think her opinion of magicals could have gotten any worse, but here she was.

Emma remained in her own little bubble of anger as she ignored the room around her. She registered, but didn't care, when Fudge, the Minister for Magic, arrived, along with some Bulgarian Wizards and a few other very important Ministry officials. She was roused, after a while, by a nudge from Hermione when Fudge announced the latest arrival.

'Ah, and here's Lucius.'

Emma turned to see what the others were looking at. There, in the entrance to the Top Box, was Draco Malfoy, his father Lucius, and a woman who was very clearly his mother. Emma had never seen her before. Like Draco, she was blonde, tall and slim, and she was extremely beautiful, wearing a very elegant dress. In fact, the only negative things Emma could think of about her was that she had a look as if the room were filled with a terrible smell, and that her son was Draco.

To resist the temptation of making Draco see all sorts of nightmares, Emma went back to people watching. The stands were now almost full to bursting with more people than Emma had seen in her entire life.

She did hear Fudge mention that Lucius had made a donation to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, however, that made her all the more annoyed and upset. She really wanted to work there one day. Healing had become a passion of hers and that was the place to be, but she would never be allowed to practise there as a vampire. Not with the prejudices of the magical community, especially when pure-blood fanatics like Lucius throw money around to keep things that way. Worst of all, he doesn't care one iota about St. Mungo's, he just did it to gain political capital.

Eventually, and thankfully, though Emma would never admit that's how she felt, Ludo Bagman arrived and was quick to get everything underway.

'Everyone ready?' he asked, beaming at the others in the Top Box. 'Minister, ready to go?'

'Ready when you are, Ludo.' replied Fudge.

He put his wand to his throat and incanted, Sonorus.

'Ladies and gentlemen... welcome!' said Ludo, and his voice echoed clearly around the stadium for all to hear. 'Welcome to the four-hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!'

Emma was deafened momentarily by the screams and shouts and cheers of the entire stadium, and had to cover her ears with her hands.

'And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian Team Mascots!'

'I wonder what they brought?' asked Mr Weasley, leaning forward. 'Ahhh! Veela.'

He suddenly leaned back again and busied himself by taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. At first, that seemed curious to Emma, but when a hundred Veela glided out onto the pitch and began dancing to music, she understood.

The Veela were creatures, definitely, but they appeared to look like women, very beautiful women, though there was certainly more to it than that. All across the stadium, and in the Top Box, men and older boys, like Harry and Ron, were standing up and either trying to show off or leaning forward eagerly, as if completely mesmerised by a Charm. Emma couldn't blame them, the dancing and the music really was enchanting, and she couldn't help stare, but their magic had no effect on her.

Beside her, after the music had stopped, she saw Hermione shake her head a little, and then tut at the boys, with a frustrated tone.

'What are you two doing?' hissed Hermione, before giving a confused glare to Emma. 'Boys, honestly!'

For a split-second, Emma wondered if Hermione had been effected by the Veela as she seemed rattled, but Emma put that down to wishful thinking again.

'And now,' roared Ludo. 'kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!'

Immediately, a massive green and gold ball of light flew at amazing speed into the stadium, like a comet. Emma could see that it was made up of thousands of small creatures, though they were moving far too fast to see them clearly.

The ball flew around the pitch once and then split in two, each going to the opposite sides, by the post-hoop-things, and as if that wasn't enough spectacle, a vibrant rainbow arced across the pitch joining the two groups. It was very pretty, and the crowd were loving the display, 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' quietly.

The rainbow soon faded and the creatures combined again, this time into a giant flying shamrock, and did another loop of the stadium, this time causing more chaos than even the Veela had. They began dropping gold Galleons everywhere, and people scrambled under their seats to collect as much as they could.

It was when they passed overhead again that Emma clearly saw that they were tiny, bearded men in red waistcoats. Mr Weasley called them Leprechauns, while Ron gleefully stuffed a fistful of the coins into Harry's hands.

'There you go! For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!'

Once the Leprechauns were done, they drifted over to the Irish side of the stadium and the game was ready to begin, which meant Emma turned off. She just caught Ron fawning over Krum again when he was introduced, and that was it.

She thought about what she was going to say to Hermione when they got home, and how terrifying the prospect of revealing her love was. She wondered where Nephthys was right now, she'd been gone for so long, delivering a message to Sirius. She was also curious why Barty Crouch still hadn't turned up, making Winky sit next to an empty chair all game, scared out of her wits.

Of course, she couldn't keep herself completely out of the game. The Veela in particular were very distracting, as beautiful as they were, but especially when the game got very aggressive. The Leprechauns were taunting the Veela who became violent, flying up to the Irish side and started throwing fire at the little men. Most curious of all was how the Veela changed appearance. They were suddenly not beautiful, more bird-like with very cruel-looking sharp beaks and scaly wings.

'And that, boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!' yelled Mr Weasley, trying to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

Emma didn't have to retreat into her head for long after that. The game soon ended and Emma had to cover her ears again from everyone, including the Veela, and the Leprechauns, all celebrating or commiserating the result.

After that, the Top Box was lit up far too brightly for Emma, making her wince, so that the whole stadium could see inside, and then the teams were brought up. The Bulgarian team first, having lost, and then the Irish. They all shook the Bulgarian Minister's hand as well as Fudge's, and then, finally, everyone was free to return to their tents.

'Don't tell your mother you've been gambling.' said Mr Weasley to the twins, frowning as they left the Top Box.

They'd won their bet and Ludo had been forced to hand over a lot of Galleons, and the twins were beaming.

'Don't worry, Dad.' grinned Fred. 'We've got big plans for this money, we don't want it confiscated.'

Mr Weasley just shook his head, probably thinking better of asking them to elaborate, deciding not knowing was better.

The Weasleys, Emma, Hermione and Harry joined the crowds returning through the woods, this time at the back, and chatting excitedly about the match and joining in the raucous singing. Emma, meanwhile, walked in silence, watching the Leprechauns fly overhead with their lanterns, or people celebrating by shooting colourful sparks out of their wands into the woods. Instead of feeling the infectious positive energy, she just got surlier and surlier. With the celebrating, everyone seemed to have forgotten the rules and magic was being performed everywhere. Emma was done now. She wanted to go home, away from these horrible magicals.

'Oh, I am glad I'm not on duty.' muttered Mr Weasley as they all squeezed into their main tent. 'I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish to stop celebrating.'

They could hear the noise even from within the closed tent, two fields away. It was so noisy that Mr Weasley let them all stay up a little longer while they discussed the game. Emma just hid herself and left, escaping to the girls' tent alone, to read.

She was joined a bit later by Hermione, who sat next to her on a tiny couch, and Ginny who got changed into her pyjamas and went straight to bed.

'You've hated it here, haven't you?' asked Hermione, in a whisper.

'Not all of it.' shrugged Emma, sulking.

'But most of it?' added Hermione, with a wry smile.

When Emma just nodded, Hermione reached to take one of Emma's hands in her own.

'I'm sorry I made you come here.' she said, softly, guiltily.

'Did you enjoy the game?' asked Emma, fighting every instinct to edge any closer to Hermione.

'The game, yes, I did.' nodded Hermione, frowning. 'Little else, though.'

'Then it was worth it.' replied Emma, forcing a smile on her face. 'You should get some sleep.'

Hermione nodded silently, squeezed her hand once and got up, retiring to the bedroom.

'Night, Em.' she said, softly.

'Night, Mia.'