A/N: I've been informed that Justin Finch-Fletchley is Muggleborn and therefore would not have been brought to Neville, because pureblood Augusta Longbottom would not be friends with Justin's family. I'm sorry for this oversight, but I can't fix it. Let's pretend they do know each other for some reason or other, okay? Say they met at the hospital. Again, I'm really sorry!

Visions and Quidditch

( … Slowly Silas' vision cleared and he found himself in a room. It was fairly empty and the only light was coming from the fireplace. Dust covered everything and the room itself looked to be falling apart. There's someone here, he realized, and stepped around a large backed chair for a better look. He grimaced in disgust at what he found.

Wormtail was crouched before a chair and in it there was a wrinkled husk of a creature. It was small, about the size of a man's torso, and was the gray of a corpse. Its eyes were lidless and wet; the dark color reminded Silas of blood even though they were black. It took all of Silas' self-control to keep from gagging, but nothing could stop his stomach from churning.

"There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry." Wormtail said, timid and fearful. In his hand was a large glass vial that held what looked to be brown syrup. Swirls of red and yellow and a sickly green caught the light when the rat-like man offered it to Voldemort.

"Later," Voldemort answered, waving his short stick of an arm sharply. His voice was strangely high-pitched and cold as ice. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

Wormtail did as he was told and Silas watched all this with a sneer on his face. Voldemort looked horrific, but very weak. He doubted he'd be very hard to kill in this state. And Wormtail was just annoying. His voice and mannerisms grated on the nerves and he couldn't understand how Voldemort could stand him.

"Where is Nagini?" The broken Dark Lord demanded.

"I – I don't know, My Lord. She set out to explore the house, I think…"

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail. I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

Wormtail bowed his head with submissive agreement. "My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week." Voldemort answered in a slow whisper. "Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over."

"The – the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" Wormtail whined. Silas wanted to bash the man's head in just to make him shut up. "Forgive me, but – I do not understand – why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"

"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait."

"Your Lordship is still determined, then?" Wormtail said quietly. Silas wondered if he had a death wish. Was he seriously questioning Voldemort? Even when he was a wrinkled worm surely he wouldn't stand for that.

"Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." He said with such menace that Wormtail flinched back and away from the chair. But the stupid minion continued to press his point.

"It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord."

Voldemort stared at Wormtail hard with his inhuman eyes, making the man cower and whine. "Without Harry Potter? … I see…"

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!" Wormtail said quickly, his voice squeaking with terror. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard – any wizard – the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short time – you know that I can disguise myself most effectively – I could be back here in as little as two day with a suitable person – "

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder… perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

"My Lord! I – I have no wish to leave you, none at all – "

"Do not lie to me!" Voldemort yelled, his voice cutting and sharp. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me…"

Silas smirked. Really, what was Voldemort expecting? He looked like a monstrous fetus. Who wouldn't be disgusted? And Wormtail wasn't a shining example of a good actor. There was no way he'd be able to hide his emotions well enough when faced with something so extreme.

Wormtail reached shaking hands toward his Master in supplication, "No! My devotion to Your Lordship – "

"Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, My Lord – "

"Liar," Voldemort said lowly, darkly. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

Wormtail, who had been sputtering incoherently, fell silent at once. Silas was no longer thinking about the pathetic man, his thoughts were on what Voldemort had said. He would die if left alone? Then he was right. Voldemort was weak now and easy to kill. He listened intently, hoping beyond hope that the conversation would give him a clue as to where in the hell Voldemort was.

"I have my reasons for using the boy," Voldemort hissed, almost speaking in Parseltongue and not English. For the first time, Silas understood why some people might think the ability was evil, "…as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail – courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath – "

"My Lord, I must speak!" Wormtail said in panic, interrupting. Silas winced. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head – My Lord, Bertha Jorkins' disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder – "

"If? If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition… Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined us."

"I am a faithful servant." Wormtail begged.

"Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfill neither requirement."

"I found you." He said sullenly. "I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins."

Silas shook his head. That a man could be brought so low… It literally disgusted him. Voldemort seemed like an upstanding individual when compared to Wormtail.

"That is true." Voldemort said with dark humor. "A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail – though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?"

"I – I thought she might be useful, My Lord."

"Liar." Voldemort chuckled and the sound made Silas shiver. "However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform…"

"R-really, My Lord? What – ?" Wormtail sounded terrified again. At last, the greasy man showed intelligence, Silas sneered. He agreed that whatever Voldemort had in mind wasn't going to be pleasant for the sniveling man at all.

"Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end… but I promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins."

"You… you…" His voice sounded hoarse. Silas shook his head; Voldemort already said he was weak and would die if left alone, what was keeping the pathetic excuse of a human hanging around? Obviously it would be his doom. "You… are going… to kill me too?"

"Wormtail, Wormtail," Voldemort said silkily. "Why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns…"

"We could have modified her memory instead of killing her." Wormtail sulked.

Voldemort laughed. It was an entirely mirthless sound, cold as his speech. "But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail… One more murder… My faithful servant at Hogwarts…. Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet… I think I hear Nagini…"

Silas listened to him call out in Parseltongue asking her to come to him. A few seconds later a huge twelve foot snake with a diamond pattern on her back slithered into the room. Her undulating body cut a wide, curving track across the room and through the thick dust on the floor.

SSS Massster, may I have the delisssiousss old magiclessssss-man ssstanding in the hall? SSS

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail." Voldemort practically purred.

"In-indeed, My Lord?" Wormtail whimpered.

"Indeed yes. According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say."

Wormtail jumped to his feet and ran to the door, flinging it open. Silas saw an old man with a cane, a limp, and a flashlight staring into the room with a fearful and confused expression. Silas sighed. The world was full of stupid people it seemed.

"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are you manners?"

Wormtail obediently beckoned the old man into the room. The man stared at the back of the armchair that Voldemort was sitting in with a horrified fascination. Silas thought he should be grateful he couldn't see the disgusting little Dark Lord.

"You heard everything, Muggle?" Voldemort asked, smiling down at his snake, which was curled up on the rug in front of the fire.

"What's that you're calling me?" The man said defiantly. Silas half-lidded his eyes and leaned against the wall, resigned. He already knew how this would play out.

"I am calling you a Muggle. It means that you are not a wizard." Voldemort drawled with dark amusement. Wormtail was shaking with fear.

"I don't know what you mean by wizard." The man said angrily. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too. My wife knows I'm up here and if I don't come back…"

"You have no wife." Voldemort said quietly, a sick smile stretching his distorted face. "Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows… he always knows…"

Silas snorted from his place. What a pile of dung. If Voldemort was so high and mighty, he wouldn't need to lord it over a soon to be dead Muggle just to make himself feel better. Wormtail wasn't as unimpressed. He was practically kissing the ground in awe and fear of what would happen next.

"Is that right?" The man demanded. He hadn't yet realized there was no way out of the room alive. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much or your manners, My Lord. Turn 'round and face me like a man, why don't you?"

"But I am not a man, Muggle. I am much, much more than a man. However… why not? I will face you… Wormtail, come and turn my chair around."

Wormtail whimpered and made no move to do as he was bid.

"You heard me, Wormtail."

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything other than approach his Master and the hearth rug where Nagini lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.

And then the chair was facing the Muggle man and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter and he opened his mouth to let out a horrified scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light and he crumpled silent to the ground. The snake hissed her pleasure and went to feed. Silas felt himself being released from the vision and could only sigh in relief. He had no desire to watch Nagini eat. … )

xXxXxXx

Silas slowly sat up, his hand coming up and tangling in his hair. He felt exhausted, but he had to tell Gabriel before he could sleep. He stumbled out of bed and made it to his door. He opened it and took two clumsy steps into the sitting room where Gabriel sat watchful on the couch. The Gryffindor leapt to his feet and instantly helped support him.

"Sy? Are you okay? What did you see?" Gabriel asked as he sat the Slytherin down.

"Voldemort is in England somewhere and is very weak. He was with Wormtail and said if he were to be left alone, he'd die. I don't know why that little rat insists on helping the Dark Lord when all he does is insult him and threaten him. Granted, Wormtail honestly deserves the insults. He's the stupidest man I've ever met."

"Sy, you're babbling." Gabriel said worriedly.

"Right." Silas shook his head weakly. "Basically I learned that Voldemort is disgusting and an easy kill, but we can't do anything about it because I have no idea where in the hell he is. Voldemort has a pet snake that is very poisonous and can eat a man. Her name is Nagini. Last, I learned that he wants to stay unnoticed during the World Cup so it should be safe for us to go. His next diabolical plan revolves around the Tri-Wizard Tournament and one of his faithful followers infiltrating the school to kidnap us. He needs us alive for something important."

"The what tournament?" Gabriel frowned.

Silas hid a wince. He had completely forgotten that he hadn't told the Gryffindor about that yet. Hmmm, how should he recover? An idea came to him and he played up his exhaustion, leaning against the couch and making his body go fairly limp. If he could distract Gabriel from asking too many questions, all the better.

"It seems that during this coming school term Hogwarts will be hosting a tournament that involves three students from three different schools. It's a dangerous competition and the winner is highly acclaimed."

"Why does Voldemort care?"

"I don't know." Silas smiled grimly. "Yet."

Gabriel shook his head with fond exasperation. Silas could be so damn stubborn. Not that Gabriel blamed him, but when it came to knowledge the Slytherin would stop at nothing until he had it. "So you want us to go to the World Cup?"

"Yes." Silas nodded, thankful Gabriel wasn't going to question his sources. But he knew the Gryffindor wasn't stupid. He was merely focusing on the more immediate matters first. He hadn't forgotten anything. "It will be a good chance for us to get a feel for what's going on in the world before we go back to school."

"Alright." Gabriel stood and pulled Silas up with him. "You are going back to bed. Don't worry about anything and rest. Trust me to handle getting us to the World Cup."

"I do." Silas answered softly. "Thank you, Gabe."

"You must be really tired to say that to me." Gabriel laughed as he settled Silas back on his green silk bed. "Go to sleep, Sy."

Silas waved him away and curled up, pulling his blankets around him. Gabriel smiled fondly and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. He looked Out and saw that Harry was beginning to wake. Gently, he slid between Harry and the Outside, and the Host alter went back to sleep, curled up on the couch in the sitting room.

xXxXxXx

Sirius smiled as his godson entered the dinning room for breakfast. It only took a second to know that this wasn't Harry, but Gabriel. He shrugged mentally and greeted the Gryffindor alter. Gabriel greeted him back and immediately brought up the subject at hand. It wasn't in his nature to beat around the bush or indulge in polite small talk just for the sake of things before getting down to business.

"What's the final verdict on going to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"I've had several heated conversations with Snape and have written several lengthy letters. He is still undecided." Sirius sighed. "Why? Are you excited about going?"

"It should be fun." Gabriel grinned. "And Ron just contacted Harry and told him that he's going to be there with his family and Hermione. He got an extra ticket for Harry, but he talked Ron into inviting Nev instead."

"Well, why don't we call up Snape? Maybe he'll give in if we both beg him." Sirius laughed and called for Omi.

The elf bowed at the request to bring Snape and disappeared. The two ate breakfast and talked about dueling and Quidditch. Snape didn't arrive until they had finished and were on their second cup of tea. Snape walked into the room with a scowl on his face. "What is it?" He demanded.

"We want to go to the World Cup." Gabriel stood and faced the man. "Even Neville is going because Ron had an extra ticket. Plus, there'll be thousands of witches and wizards to hide among, and the Ministry has established really thorough security around the arena. There's no reason why we can't go."

"Come on, Snape. I'll be with him and there's a third ticket for you or Remus. He'll be well protected." Sirius said in a stern, begging voice.

The combination was very difficult to pull off and Gabriel was impressed. He decided to help and subtly shifted his fingers so that the silver ring caught the light. "And we have an escape route if it becomes necessary."

Severus stared hard at them both. "The Wolf will not be well enough to go due to the moon. He will be an added liability."

"But…" Sirius began with a fierce glare.

"I will go and keep an eye on things." Severus interrupted, glaring back. "You are both to be Polyjuiced and you, Mutt, must swear a wizard's oath that you will be serious during the duration. No pranks, no games, and no unnecessary risks."

"I swear on my magic that I will not take unnecessary risks in the name of fun." Sirius swore solemnly.

"Good." Severus nodded. "Who does it say you are on the tickets?"

"Friends of mine." Sirius shrugged. "They aren't going and promised to remain inside all that day. It's fool proof, I swear. Your ticket is blank, of course. You have to register tonight."

"When do we leave?"

"I got us scheduled for a 7 AM departure from London. We need to be at a Muggle book store called Borders, a block away from the Leaky Cauldron."

Severus nodded and stalked from the room without another word. They both heard the front door shut, signaling the Professor had returned to school. Gabriel grinned, "That wasn't so hard."

"Guess not." Sirius ruffled his hair with a laugh.

"Let Harry know what's going on." Gabriel ordered and then smiled slyly. "Are you still up for a duel later? Or are you still sore from last time, old man?"

"I'M NOT OLD!" Sirius bellowed, still smarting from losing the duel.

"Ummm… alright?" Harry asked meekly.

Sirius laughed hard at Gabriel's escape. "Cheeky little bugger," he offered as an explanation between gasps for breath. Harry was helping him stand and was both amused and worried. Sirius ruffled his hair and told him that they were going to the World Cup. Harry hugged his godfather happily before trying to fix his messy hair. Sirius started laughing again.

xXxXxXx

Neville was shocked when he got the invitation from the Weasleys. Harry hadn't warned him ahead of time because he wanted it to be a surprise. Neville was really glad for the chance to leave early, but didn't think his Gran would let him go since they were still upset at each other. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when she gave him permission. Everything was arranged and the Weasleys would come and pick him up tomorrow. He'd spend the last week of summer with them.

xXxXxXx

Monday morning arrived quickly and Sirius woke Harry up at 5:30. They had to leave the house in an hour to be on time to meet Severus at the book store. Harry happily got dressed and fixed his hair, though he supposed it didn't matter since he would be taking Polyjuice soon. When he was done, he hurried downstairs and quickly ate breakfast. Sirius was so excited he was practically bouncing in his seat and Harry had to start pulling up his shields or he'd be infected with his godfather's powerful enthusiasm.

"You ready?" Sirius grinned.

"Yes." Harry smiled back and accepted the potion.

They both drank it down quickly, as the taste was horrendous. The changes started taking place slowly and Harry watched fascinated as Sirius' hair shortened and became sandy-blonde. His eyes remained blue, but deepened a few shades in color. His face filled out some and his jaw became squarer. He grew an inch and his shoulders broadened and his arms became more muscular. Now Harry understood the reason Sirius was wearing baggier clothes than normal this morning.

He worried about his own clothes and wondered why Sirius hadn't warned him. He looked down and saw that he had not grown. In fact, he was a smaller then before. He ran to the sitting room and looked in the mirror. He had large baby-blue eyes and chin length strawberry blonde hair. It was thin and very straight, the exact opposite of his natural hair. He smiled and thought he looked very sweet. In fact, it reminded him of a boy version of Rose.

"Who are we?" He called and giggled at his young piping voice.

"I am Robert Cauldwell and you are Owen, my eleven-year-old son. You will begin your First Year at Hogwarts come September."

"How do you know them and aren't they upset they couldn't come themselves?"

"Owen's a bit shy and his mother didn't want him going. And I know them from my days as an Auror. I saved them and we've kept in touch since then. While I was vacationing on the beach, I told my side of the story and they welcomed back my friendship. When he mentioned the World Cup tickets Owen got for his birthday from his uncle and how he and his wife weren't sure they should go, I offered to take them off of their hands and asked for a piece of his hair and his son's hair so I wouldn't be caught. They agreed. Simple as that."

"Oh." Harry smiled. "Thank you for going to all that trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble, kid." He laughed. "Now let's get going or we'll be late."

xXxXxXx

Severus watched the muggle crowd with expressionless eyes. He suspected that he'd be able to recognize the mutt no matter what Black looked like. His eyes snapped to every loud man that passed. His body was tense, waiting for a prank. Anyone who looked like they were about to approach was scrutinized closely and most decided to go in a different direction. That suited him just fine and he went back to scanning the crowd.

Suddenly a young boy turned the corner onto the street next to the book store and large blue eyes met his own. The boy smiled with delight and happiness. Severus was taken aback by the expression, knowing instantly this was Harry. No one else would ever look at him in that manner. He grimaced at the boy's appearance; it was way too helpless for his liking. The child would make an easy target should trouble arise. On the other hand, their enemies would also underestimate him and that could save Harry's life.

Harry was wearing a plain red shirt with a dark brown, leather, bomber jacket and dark blue jeans with white sneakers. They were his own clothes and so were baggy on his now eleven-year-old frame. His glasses were gone and his face was less round and more angular. His eyes were just as large as they normally were and his hair was strawberry blonde, straight, and chin length.

The man holding his hand was younger than Black by a few years. He had broad muscular shoulders and wore a light flannel jacket over a white shirt and faded jeans. He carried a backpack on his back and Severus didn't want to imagine what the mutt had brought with him. The face he wore was masculine and his blonde hair was cropped short. He was obviously the boy's father and Severus' hands clenched in reaction. A wave of possessive anger welled up in him. How dare Black pose as Harry's father! The thought startled him so much that he was struck mute as the two approached and the child hugged him briefly.

"Severus!" Harry smiled up at him. "Are we late?"

"Of course we aren't. But we've got about thirty seconds, so we should hurry. Follow me." Sirius gestured for them to follow and went inside the book store.

It was fairly crowded and he bumped into a few people. His charming smile got him out of any fights, however, and they got to the bathroom with five seconds to spare. He opened the door and hurried Harry and Snape inside. He grabbed a dirty styrofoam cup that looked to have just missed the trashcan and thrust it at the others.

Harry's eyes were curious, but he didn't ask any questions as he followed his mentor's lead and touched the cup. Without warning, something invisible hooked his guts from the inside and yanked him hard. The world melted away and he opened his mouth to scream, but he had no mouth or lungs to scream with. Panic began to set in, but before Boy could come roaring Out, he landed with a hard thud on dirt and grass.

Sirius laughed hard at his godson's clumsy landing, but Severus' more observant eyes caught the faint signs of distress. He knelt by the child and calmed him with his presence and his soothing words, reminding him to breathe and center himself. Harry smiled with trembling lips, gratitude bright in his eyes.

"Are you well?" Severus asked.

"Yes. Thank you." Harry took his hand and got to his feet.

"Reinforce your barriers. Occlude." He reminded sternly and the boy nodded before doing just that.

When Harry was steady again, he looked around and saw he was standing on what looked like a moor. The mist was hanging thick along the ground and carried a faint chill with it despite it being late August. He was glad for his jacket. Sirius was talking to two men. One was wearing a tweed suit and galoshes and the other was wearing a kilt and a poncho. They looked very strange.

Sirius turned and gestured for him to come over, so Harry did. The man looked at his face and matched it with the one on his parchment next to the name Owen Cauldwell. The man nodded and called for Severus' ticket and name. Severus handed them both over and they were waved on.

"Wait until you see this." Sirius grinned. "You're gonna love it."

Harry smiled back, excitement beginning to build in him. Severus followed a few feet behind them. They came to a cabin and a man stood there with a blank expression. He took their name and money and handed them a map in return. Harry had never been camping before. The Dursleys had never taken him, of course; instead leaving him with Mrs. Figg. Tents came into view as the mist thinned and wizards of all races could be seen. Harry stared with an open mouth and even wider eyes.

One tent he saw looked to have been made out of the night sky. The stars even gave off faint light. As he watched, the sky rippled and an oriental woman stepped out. She saw his awestruck look and smiled, bowing at him. He copied her bow and hurried after Sirius. With every step they took, the noise seemed to rise exponentially. People were laughing and yelling. Kids were screaming playfully and some were crying. Two boys raced by on miniature brooms that hovered a foot off the ground. A fat man chased after them with a red face and a fist shaking in the air.

Harry didn't know where to look, there were so many extraordinary things to see. Eventually, they approached the woods. They walked up a gentle incline and found a small empty lot with a sign that had the name Cauldwell on it. Sirius dropped his pack and stretched. Harry, meanwhile, was staring at the tent next door. It looked like an igloo and there were penguins tied to the front. He couldn't see any people around it, though.

"Give me a hand, Owen." Sirius called and Harry hurried over to him, helping him unpack the circular tent. It looked fairly normal. It was dark blue and had a zipper front and was made out of the stretchy, rain-proof material of a normal muggle tent. "Well, go in." Sirius grinned.

Harry ducked in and his mouth fell open. He was standing in a living room. The floor was carpeted and the walls had pictures hanging on them. There was a couch and a fireplace. A full kitchen stood in the back and there were three closed doors. Sirius excitedly showed him that they opened up into two comfortable bedrooms and a bathroom.

"Magic, Harry. Never forget you're magic." Sirius laughed at his godson's expression and ruffled his hair.

Harry was too shocked to scold him for it. "Where did you get this?"

"Omi." Sirius shrugged. "Come on. I want to show you something else."

He led the boy back outside. There was chanting coming from the right somewhere. It sounded like the Irish were getting psyched for the game. Harry grimaced. The thousands of people, most riding on very high emotions, pressed against him. He was a bit nervous that his mental barriers would buckle. Needing reassurance, he looked around for Severus, but his mentor was nowhere in sight.

"Don't worry about him." Sirius answered when Harry asked him. "He's probably skulking around. He's not too far away, that's for sure. Now let's go."

"Alright." Harry took his godfather's hand and followed him around the edge of the wood. He kept his eye out for Severus, but never caught sight of him, which Harry thought was odd. Most everyone was wearing bright colors and Severus was wearing black slacks and a black button-down, long-sleeved shirt. Surely, he'd stand out. But he didn't.

"Look." Sirius pointed, drawing Harry's attention.

"The Weasleys!" Harry smiled brightly. The redheaded family was sitting around a fire eating what looked like eggs and sausages. He could see Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny sitting on one side. Two redheaded men and Percy on the other, and Mr. Weasly sat between them smiling happily and talking away to anyone who would listen.

"Hold on there." Sirius pulled Harry back toward the woods. "You have to remember you're Owen Cauldwell and I'm your father Robert. I'm a wizard and I own a Wizarding Inn in Sussex. Your mother, Melissa, works with me and her maiden name was Haven." Sirius laughed at Harry's bewildered expression. "I'll try not to let you be questioned, but we have to make sure our story is straight. You can tell your friends, of course, who you really are, but don't be too loud about it, alright? Remember you'll be starting your First Year at Hogwarts come September."

"Okay." Harry nodded.

"Let's get the show started, then, shall we?" Sirius grinned and led the way down to the Weasley camp.

Sirius greeted Mr. Weasley and captured his attention and Percy's. The older sons listened politely, but their eyes followed the eleven-year-old that drifted over to Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny. Sirius explained who he was and was asking questions about Hogwarts since his son would be starting there soon. Harry waited to make sure no one would ask him anything and turned to his friends with a smile. Neville's eyes lit up in recognition, but he didn't say anything, waiting to see how Harry wanted this to go.

"Hello." Harry said.

"Hi." Neville answered. "Are you excited about the game?"

"I am." Harry nodded and laughed. "It's me, Ron, Hermione."

The two shared a look of suspicion. "Do we know you?" Ron frowned.

"Well, I'm pretending to be Owen Cauldwell. He'll be starting Hogwarts in September." He answered.

"Harry?" Ginny blushed deeply, her blue eyes were fascinated.

"Yes." He smiled.

"Hey, Harry." Neville stood and pulled him into a brief hug.

"Harry?" Hermione stood nervously.

"How are you, mate? Is that really Padfoot then?" Ron hugged the eleven-year-old.

"Yeah, but don't tell. We'd get in loads of trouble." Harry warned seriously.

"We won't say anything." Hermione promised. "I'm really sorry, Harry. I won't ever betray you again. I might make recommendations and advise you to do things you may not like, but I can't force you or take away your choices. That's wrong."

"Thank you, Hermione, and I understand. I'm just glad we can be friends again." Harry hugged her. The bushy-haired girl teared up and hugged him back fiercely.

"You were my first friend and I was so upset when I thought I lost you." She cried.

"Well, you haven't." Harry assured her.

"Who's this then?" George asked, coming up to them. Fred came up on Harry's other side and hugged him with one arm. "Is this our favorite Fourth Year?"

"It's Harry!" Ginny whispered loudly to them, her eyes bright with excitement. "He's hiding."

"We can see that, dear sister." George smiled and hugged her. "Keep it down, Gin. You don't want to get them caught."

Ginny blushed and looked over to see Bill watching them suspiciously. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Harry assured.

"Guess what we've…" Fred began.

"…discovered. A betting ring and…"

"… we've placed all our savings on risky…"

"… odds. But we have a feeling that we'll be…"

"…very lucky. Especially since our good…"

"…luck charm has arrived." George finished.

"Me?" Harry blushed. "I'm not lucky."

"Yes, you are." Fred argued and released him. "We've bet that…"

"Ireland will win, but that Krum…"

"…will catch the snitch. So keep your…"

"…fingers crossed for us."

"You better not let mum find out." Ron warned with a grin. "She'd skin you."

"Honestly." Hermione sniffed and crossed her arms. "Don't you know how bad gambling is?"

"Not now, Hermione." Ron groaned. "Let's go buy souvenirs."

"I don't know if I can." Harry smiled. "Let me go ask." He walked over to Sirius and tugged on his godfather's sleeve. Blue eyes turned to look down at him happily. "Can I go with Ron and the others to get souvenirs?"

"Sure, kid." Sirius ruffled his hair. "Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of gold coins. "Spend it all, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Harry gasped.

"Go on. Be back within the hour." Sirius winked and pushed him back toward his friends.

"Thanks!"

"No problem."

Harry ran to his friends and showed them the money and the order that came with it. Ron looked excited and soon his enthusiasm trickled down to Hermione and Neville. Ginny was furious when Bill said she couldn't go with them, but looked appeased when he and Charlie invited her to go with them. Ron caught Harry's hand and began dragging him off.

"…and there are these hats that light up and whistle too!" He was explaining.

Harry laughed and looked over at Neville helplessly. The shy Gryffindor only shrugged while Hermione shook her head with a smile. Soon they stood in the middle of booths and stalls. Salesmen cried out their prices and described their wares. Ron ran over to a booth with glowing rosettes – green for Ireland and red for Bulgaria – which were singing the names for the players. Hermione laughed and pointed at a stand that had hats with dancing shamrocks on them. Neville liked the Bulgarian scarves. They had lions on them that literally roared.

"Been saving my pocket money all year for this." Ron told Harry as he purchased a small figurine of Krum that walked backward and forward over Ron's hand and scowled.

"We know." Harry laughed. "Do you see anything you want, Hermione?"

Neville was happy with just a scarf and Ron was now wearing a green rosette and a dancing shamrock hat as well as carrying his miniature Krum. Hermione's attention was caught by a smaller booth and she nodded, waving the others over. "Look at these!" She said excitedly. "Can you believe the spells it takes to make these work? It's very complicated and ingenious, really."

"Omniocluars." The sales-witch said eagerly, greed in her eyes. "You can replay actions… slow everything down… and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. You just have to make sure they're turned on and recording while always pointing at the match so they catch it all. Bargain price – only ten Galleons each."

"Those are bloody awesome!" Ron said longingly.

"I'll take four." Harry smiled.

"Thanks, mate!" Ron cried, hugging him tight.

"Make sure you capture everything, okay, Hermione?" Harry asked when she looked about to protest. "I want to give it to Owen since he couldn't really be here and I'm not sure I'll do it right."

"Oh, of course, Har… I mean, Owen." She smiled and took her pair. "I'll get everything perfect."

Harry smiled while Neville and Ron laughed. Hermione blushed and shoved Ron in the arm, telling him to shut up. "I'll get us some programs." Neville grinned and went to the next both over. He came back with four and passed them around to a chorus of 'thank you's. Realizing their hour was up; they began walking back to the tents. Ron talking about the match and the players, and Hermione and Neville occasionally slipping their own observations in.

Bill, Charlie, and Ginny got to the tent just before they did, and they were all wearing green roses. Bill gave his father an Irish flag and the red-haired man took it excitedly. Fred and George had spent all their money gambling and had no souvenirs. Harry frowned at that, but Sirius took him by the hand and said goodbye before he could do anything about it. He quickly waved to his friends and the three waved back. Fred and George winked, happy and carefree. His worry eased and he trotted after his godfather.

They were about halfway back to their own tent when a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. "It's time!" Sirius shouted in glee. He looked as excited as Ron. "Come on, let's go!"

Harry dashed after his godfather, 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 powerful and Harry found himself staggering with nausea burning the back of his throat and a headache behind his eyes. Sirius turned, worried, but before he could reach the gasping child, a shadow broke away from the trees and knelt by him. Harry stared into his mentor's black eyes and slowly the pressure drained away.

"I can shield you as long as you stay close." Severus murmured.

"I will." Harry promised. "Thank you."

The dark-haired man waved it away and sneered as Black finally made it back to them. The two men walked on either side of the boy and made their way toward the arena. They walked for a good twenty minutes until they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Harry could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand." Sirius boasted. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"A Ministry task force of five hundred has been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms cover every inch." Severus added. "There will be double that acting as security during the match."

"Why so many?" Harry asked, awed.

"The fans tend to go crazy." Sirius admitted. "Mobs can form and damage can be done. People can be trampled to death accidentally if that happens."

"Don't worry." Severus said softly, seeing the fear rising in the child's expressive eyes. Harry smiled in relief and nodded.

"Prime seats!" The Ministry witch at the entrance said when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight up stairs, Mr. Cauldwell, Master Snape. Go as high as you can."

Harry smiled at her as he passed and she pat his head. He found himself ignoring that as he stared at the never ending staircase before him. Sirius laughed at him and Severus waited patiently for him to begin. Taking a deep breath, he began to climb. The crowd that was climbing with them slowly filtered away through the doors to the left and right as they reached their designated seats.

They kept climbing and just when Harry was about to call a break to catch his breath, Sirius pointed out that they had finally reached the top. Harry looked around the small box curiously. It was at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the two golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows.

He smiled when he saw all six Weasleys and his two classmates sitting in the front row. They waved at him happily and he returned the gesture. The back row was mostly empty. At one side, behind Ron, Hermione, and Neville sat a house-elf who looked terrified with her long, spidery hands trembling as they hid her face. Sirius, Harry, and Severus walked behind her seat and made their way to the other end of the row, taking the last three chairs there. Harry sat between the two men, Severus at the very end, and finally looked out onto the Quidditch pitch.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were filling in the seats that rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused in a gentle golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The grass looked smooth as velvet from Harry's height, and the fifty foot high goal posts looked made of marble. Right across the way from the box Harry was sitting in, was a huge blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon it before wiping it off again. Harry saw that they were advertisements.

"A display from the team mascots will precede the match." George said, turning around to face them.

"That's always worth watching." Fred agreed with a grin.

"National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show." George continued and smirked mischievously with his twin.

"What kinds of creatures live in Bulgaria and Ireland?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm guessing…" Fred tapped his chin.

"…leprechauns for Ireland and maybe…"

"…dragons from Bulgaria." George grinned wolfishly.

"Real dragons?" Harry's eyes went wide. "They can tame them?"

"Not really." Fred laughed. "So you might…"

"…want to keep your head down."

"Oh, hello, Professor." George gave a half-bow.

"I didn't see you sitting there."

"Trying to pick up tips for your Slytherins?"

"It won't do you much good. We've got Harry Potter and…" Fred winked at the Owen imposture.

"…you'll never find a Seeker to beat him." George smiled sweetly and turned around when his brother tapped his thigh.

The Minister of Magic and the Bulgarian minister arrived and took the two seats in the middle of Harry's row. The foreign minister was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English and stared blankly at Fudge as he introduced all the Weasleys and the Hogwart's students.

When he got no reaction, he sighed and said to Mr. Weasley, "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!"

Harry peered around and watched as Ron and Hermione scowled as the three blondes went behind them to the second row. Lucius sat by Fudge and Narcissa sat at his side, forcing Draco to sit next to her and the house-elf, whom he sniffed at with absolute disgust. He turned to his mother and said in a rather carrying whisper, "At least it is better than being seated next to rabble in the first row, Mother." Ron turned red, but Hermione and Neville managed to keep him in his seat.

"Ah, Fudge." Lucius smiled winningly. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife and son?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge smiled and wiped at his sweating head as he shook the aristocrat's hand. "And allow me to introduce you to 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."

Now every seat was filled, save two. One was being saved for Mr. Crouch by the house-elf and the other was on the other side of the Bulgarian Minister between him and Sirius. Suddenly, a man wearing bright yellow and black robes burst into the box. His round face was red and sweaty, but he was smiling like a child who was staring at Christmas.

"Everyone ready?" He asked excitedly. "Minister – ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo." Fudge smiled.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat and said "Sonorous". When he next spoke, his voice was a roar, filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over everyone, booming into every corner of the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The advertising blackboard was cleared and transformed into a scoreboard that read: BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. Suddenly, a hundred veela glided out onto the field. Harry looked through his Omniocluars and saw women… the most beautiful women he had ever seen, except they didn't look completely human. Their skin was white and glowed moon-bright. Their hair was white gold and fanned out behind them without wind. He was about to ask Severus, but was stopped when they began to sing.

The music was enchanting and captivating. The melody was so fluid that Harry would never be able to reproduce it or even remember what notes were used once it stopped. He was even more amazed when the beautiful creatures began to dance. They swirled and undulated like untamable waves. His attention was pulled from the show, however, when he noticed Sirius had gotten up from his seat and was walking as if in a daze toward the edge of the box. Ron and the twins were already there. Neville looked over at him and shrugged in confusion while Hermione grabbed Ron and futilely tried pulling him back to his seat.

"What's happening?" Harry asked.

"They have fallen under the Veela's spell." Severus answered evenly. "All men are susceptible, but the strong willed can refuse. You and I are Occluding and that will also protect you from their influence. Though, I doubt you would have succumbed in any case."

"Will they be alright?" Harry bit his lip.

"Of course. Watch."

Harry turned to look and sure enough everyone was returning to their seats with very embarrassed blushes. Harry sighed in relief and flashed a proud smile at Neville, who hadn't allowed himself to be enchanted. The Gryffindor blushed, but smiled back happily. Hermione was busy scolding Ron and the twins were laughing at their younger brother.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

A great green-and-gold comet zoomed into the stadium. It did one circuit and then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowed ooohed and aaahed. When the rainbow faded and the balls of light rocketed toward each other and met in the middle. They formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar around the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it.

"Excellent!" Ron yelled and grabbed fistfuls of the golden coins raining down on them.

Harry looked up and squinted. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that the shamrock was made up of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vets, each carrying a tiny lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" The twin cried in unison. "We were right!"

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!" Ludo screamed over the cheering crowd.

Seven scarlet players shot onto the field and everyone's eyes were on the eighteen year old seeker, Krum. It took several minutes for the stadium to quiet enough for Ludo to introduce the other team.

"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field. Harry smiled as his godfather pointed out they were all riding Firebolts like the one he had gotten for Christmas.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache and he was carrying a large wooden create under one arm. Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open – four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeey're OFF!" Bagman screamed, and the World Cup game began.

Chapter end

A/N: Sorry for the cliffy, but I didn't want to make the chapter any longer. I do have a question for you. Should I continue adding chapters or should I start Year Four: The Goblet of Fire as a whole new story?