Sorry that this chapter has taken me so long to do. It wasn't too hard to write of course, but I was sent to stay with my Grandmother while my parents divorced. Long and difficult and my step father is still being rude about the whole thing. Either way here is the next chapter of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Destiny. As I've said countless times, I don't own Harry Potter or Bleach, and I doubt I ever will. Enjoy the chapter!


Chapter 2
The Quidditch World Cup


Spells

Thoughts

Foreign Language (Bulgarian in this case)

Zanpukuto


"Ah~, I'm so excited!" Nao cheered. He and the rest of the Soul Society crew were following behind the Weasley family plus two. Mr. Weasley himself was leading the group, and families walked around them, all excited to watch the match. "Perhaps you'll stop complaining about being bored now," Toshiro responded, "Then I won't have to pick up any paper work you've slacked on." Protocol said that paper work that Division Zero members didn't complete would filter down to the Soul Society captains. A rule that Toshiro was quickly despising more and more.

"I wouldn't go that far. Paperwork will bore me to death once more the second i start it," Nao backtracked quickly. Toshiro groaned at that comment, it seemed that Nao would never do hid paperwork even after Toshiro had gone through the trouble of organizing their seats at the World Cup. "At the very least your paperwork will be lessened this year for the mission," Kaze sighed sympathetically.

"You've lucked out, Kurosaki, being a substitute you don't have to do any paper work besides the occasional report," Hane murmured. "Eventually paperwork will be the death of me once more," Moka added. As the soul reapers complained about their piles of paperwork they had to get done before school started, Kurosaki found himself grinning, extremely happy to be alive if only because of the absence of Soul Society paperwork.

This went on for twenty minutes, the Weasley party talking and joking just ahead of them. At last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though they could only spot a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field it was obvious the whole soul society could fit inside.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr Weasley informed, "Ministry task force 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." He lead the group to the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"What seats do you six have?" Mr Weasley asked Kaze. "Top box, a gift from the minister for participating in that," Kaze replied, holding out their tickets for the witch at the entrance to check. "My the students from Shinon Academy, I look forward to hearing more about one of you this year," the Ministry witch said, winking at them, "Straight up stairs, you too Arthur, as high as you can go."

The stairs to the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. And as the group ascended the mountainous staircase the crowd began to thin, few people going high as the tickets prices climbed with altitude. Finally they reached the top, a small box situated half way between the two goals. There were twenty six purple and gold chairs in three rows, the last row containing six and the other two having ten each. Harry and the Weasley's filled up the front row themselves, while the Soul Reapers sat to the right side of the second row.

This is such a brilliant stadium, Hansha Kakusaretakage commented. It is quiet amazing for such a civilization that has crept back from technology to have built such a large structure, Kaze agreed. Do you think we'll be able to watch the games without anything happening? Kaku asked. I doubt it, something always happens to us, Kaze mentally sighed, sensing her Zanpukto's excitement to see the wizarding world.

"Dobby?" The name stirred Kaze from her thoughts and she turned to Harry who was staring at a tiny creature, a house elf if Kaze was right. It was sitting in the second from last seat on the row behind Kaze. Thee creature's legs were so short that it couldn't touch the ground and wore a tea towel drooped like a toga with long bat like ears to complete the look.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. It had a high voice, obviously female. Ron, Moka, Hermione, Nao, Toshiro and Hane had now turned their attention to the elf, Ichigo chatting with Fred and George excitedly. "Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"Bit I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, blinded by the dim light that reached the top box. "My name is Winky sir and you sit-?!" Her brown eyes widened as her eyes pin pointed Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!" "Yea I am," said Harry, seeming dismayed, Kaze couldn't blame him, it was horrible to be recognized for such a crude reminder of your past. "But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?" "Ah sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free." "Why?" said Harry, looking taken back, "What's wrong with him?" "Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas about his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir." "Why not?" asked Harry. Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He's wanting paying for his work, sir."

Now that confused Kaze. When she had been alive, although that was a long time ago, she and Nao had been wizards. Before the elimination of three quarters of the Yasu clan, before everyone went into hiding, their riches stolen, all of their house elves had been paid. Had wizards really lost so much respect for magical creatures in the last couple hundred years or so?

Kaze turned slightly as Nao grabbed her hand, holding it tightly. He looked absolutely enraged by the thought of not paying any type of help. "Paying?" said Harry blnkly, "Well- why shouldn't he be paid?" Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half hidden again. "House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "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, or what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says and the 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," said Harry. "House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said WInky firmly from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter-" she glanced towards the edge of the box and gulped- "But my master sends me up to the top box and I comes, sir."

"Why would he do that? Your master I mean. If he knows you don't like heights," Kaze asked, frowning. "Master- master wants me to save him a seat, Miss. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Miss, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again, as Harry turned back to the rest, Kaze shifted slightly in her seat to talk with Winky. "It helps if you don't think about it, Winky. If anything happens I won't let you fall and I doubt anyone else here will either," Kaze murmured, trying to help the house elf.

"Oh you are too kind Miss! But Winky still doesn't know your name. And I is not liking how to you feel," Winky responded. Kaze knew in an instant what the small house elf was speaking of, she could practically feel herself the aura of death which was barely covered by the giagai, only enough so that a person or wizard could not feel it unless the Shinon academy students allowed it. And so while the top box filled, Kaze spent the next half hour talking to the elf and attempting to comfort her from the thought of the heights, making sure she stayed away from any topic that might have made the elf anxious.

Nao half listened to Kaze's conversation but mostly focused on each new arrival. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards while Percy jumped to his feet every so often that he looked like he was trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, arrived, Percy bowed so low his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed he repaired them and then sat in his chair, glaring jealously the moment Fudge began to speak to Nao and Harry.

"I'm so glad you were able to get my invitation in time, when I had not heard from your headmaster I wasn't sure if you'd be attending either event this year. Ah and this is Harry Potter you know," he exclaimed to the Bulgarian minister loudly, the first part having been directed to Nao. The foreign minister wore robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand any English. Fudge kept rambling, oblivious that his guest could obviously not understand, once he had recognized Harry he turned to Nao as though baffled in what the boy could have to do with the chosen one, and had been so important that Fudge had greeted him before Harry.

"Nao Yasu, student of Shinon Academy in Japan, sir. It's my pleasure," Nao greeted in Bulgarian. "I have heard about you after the events of last year at Hogwarts. Minister Fudge has not ceased speaking of the show you are bound to put on this year," the minister replied. Fudge as well as the other wizards in the booth stared at the foreign speaking part in confusion. Nao laughed slightly, "So you can understand him. Do you do this often sir?" "It has never become less amusing. I look forward to hearing more about you during the tournament. Well met, Mr. Yasu," the minister replied with a laugh. "The same to you sir."

"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, Ron, Hermione, Nao and Toshiro turned quickly. Edging along the second row to the three still empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley and beside Nao were none other than the Malfoys. "Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow my to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk- Obalonsk- Mr.- well, he's the Bulgaria 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?"
Nao was just able to catch the exasperated look the Minister of Bulgaria gave him and he did his best to stiffle his own laugh. Although in the tense moment it's a good thing he didn't do so. "Good lord, Arthur," he said softly, "What did you have to selll 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 me very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and injuries. He is my guest of honor for the night. I don't believe you've met Nao Yasu or any of the students from Shinon Academy," Fudge forged on. "Pleasure Malfoy-san. Hello Draco, it's nice to see you again!" Nao exclaimed, his tone slightly cold when he addressed the father.

"Ryuu?" Draco asked, raising a brow at hearing his friend intorduced by a different name. "Hehe yeah, sorry about that, my headmaster didn't really know if it was safe enough for me to go by my real name last year," Nao explained. More like have someone realize you're a dead man walking, Ryuunosuke huffed. "You're part of the Yasu clan child?" Lucius asked, turning his attention to Nao. "Yes sir. You probably heard the myths about everyone being killed all those year ago, somehow our anscestor made it out," Nao reported. "My, I'd enjoy hearing more about your heritage sometime, perhaps you will consider sending an owl my way every now and again," Lusius replied, a sly smile playing over his features. "It would be my pleasure, sir," Nao replied, faking obliviousness. It had been their plan to establish a relationship with Malfoy's father early on, perhaps they would get access to some of the Death Eaters' plans, or information on the horcruxes.

"Why don't you sit by your friend for the game, Draco," Lucius commanded before turning back to talk to the Prime Minister. Draco shot a quick glare at the golden trio before plopping down beside Nao. "Why didn't you tell me last year?" Draco asked in a hushed whisper. "Sorry, I would have gotten in a lot of trouble for it. The Yasu clan was kinda renowned for their power before they supposably died out. The headmaster has kept myself and my sister a secret for many years, believing someone would try to use our power for bad. I didn't want to keep lying to my friends so I pestered him to give me premission," Nao replied.

Draco sighed, glaring at the golden trio before the newest arrival gained everyone in the top booth's attention. It was indeed, Ludo Bagman. "Everyone ready?" he asked, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister- ready to go?" "Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge, comfortably. Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said, "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, 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 huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the Bulgarian National Mascots!" The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. "I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What in the world is a Veela?" Ichigo muttered to Hane. But the women were already guiding onto the field. Hane watched with mild amusement as the taller living soul edged forward in his seat, obviously captivated by the dance. He, and the others by defult, took a moment to thank the soul king that they were not as affected by the Veela as humans unless they opened themselves up to it. It was obvious that it didn't apply to Kurosaki who had risen.

The music stopped as nearly each male in the top box looked about ready to jump to the stadium far below. Angry shouts filled the stadium, no one apparently wanting the Veela to go. Hane quickly pulled Ichigo back into his seat. "Those were Veela," he answered the earlier question.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!" The next moment, what seemed to be a green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium then spit into two smaller ones, each hurtling towards different posts. A rainbow arced across the field, connecting the balls of light. The crowed ooh'ed in awe 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.

"Leprechauns," Moka and Toshiro muttered at the same time. Both had had bad experiences with the tricky creatures before, but they politely applauded all the same at the end of the show. The leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side of the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. "Ivanova!" A second scarlet-clad figure zoomed into view. "ograf! Levski! Vulchanox! Volkov! Aaaaaad- KRUM!" "That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was quite hard to believe, on Ichigo's part, that he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting, Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaad, Lynch!" Seven green blurs swept onto the field; each of their brooms a firebolt.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch. Hassan Mostafa!" A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a bushy mustache, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under his mustache and he was carrying a wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Upon opening up the crate, four balls burst into aair. With a sharp blast of his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. Immediately, Kazumi was glad she had the Omnioculars. The players moved so fast her eyes couldn't keep up. The magical binoculars would tell her about the formations they used. "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland. Troy took a vicotry lap around the field before the games commenced again.

Within ten minutes Ireland had scored thirty point while Bulgaria was still at zero. The Irish team was flawless in formation and teamwork. Yet, the match became faster still, and more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanox, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking Bludgers as fiercely as possible at Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks and score for the Bulgarian team.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the Veela started to dance in celebration. The Shinon Academy kids stifled a laugh as Ichigo clamped his hands over his ears, closed his eyes and turned away from the Veela. One hundred thousand wizards suddenly gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. "They're going to crash!" Hermione yelled.

Ichigo quickly looked down where the players were flying towards only to not see the little ball. And as Lynch crashed, it became apparent the Bulgarian player had feinted. "Time out," yelled Bagman, "A trained Mediwizard head onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch." As a wizard ran out onto the field, Krum was looking around, using the time his rival was down in order to locate the golden snitch.

Lynch got to his feet at last, cheers ringing out from the Irish supporters as he climbed back onto his firebolt and took off. Once the whistle blew, the Irish chasers took off with renewed energy. After fifteen more minutes Ireland had scored ten more goals. The score 130 to 10 in Ireland's favor. But as time continued and the gap got bigger, the game got dirtier.

As Mullet shot down to score again the Bulgarian keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was too quick for the fans to see but Hassan blew the whistle all the same, signaling a foul. "And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian keeper to task for cobbing- excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators, "And- yes, its a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words, "HA HA HA!" The veela on the other side of the field jumped to their feet, tossed their hair angrily and started to dance once more.

As they danced Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the veela, attempting to attract their attention. Nao stifled a laugh, barley hiding it, at the humor in the ref being distracted by the veela. "Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded like he was barely covering up his own laugh, "Somebody slap that referee!" A mediwizard came running across the field, his hands blocking his own ears, and kicked Mostafa in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself and began to shout at the veela, who stopped dancing and were looking mutinous. "And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before. Oh, this could turn nasty..."
It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words, "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vuchanox had better get back on those brooms...yes...there they go, and Troy takes the Quaffle." Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy; Voklov and Vulchnov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Buldgar or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. "Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran, deliberately flying to collide there, and it's got to be another penalty, yes there's the whistle!" The two teams' mascots began to fight, but the Shinon students paid no attention in order to watch the game.

The Quaffle was changing hands with the speed of a bullet. The Irish Beater, Quigley, swung heavily at a passing Bludger and hit is as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted at the antics of the Veela now.

The Irish seeker suddenly went into a dive at that moment. "He's seen the Snitch," Moka informed Ichigo and Hane who had been watching with slightly confused expressions. Half the crowd seemed to realize what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their seeker on.. but Krum was on his tail. How he could could where he was going, well few in the crowd had any idea, flecks of blood flew through the air behind him, but he was level with Lynch again as the pair hurtled towards the ground.

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione. "They're not!" roared Ron. "Lynch is!" yelled Harry. And he was right, for the second time that night, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. "The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" the crowd bellowed.

"He's got it!" Harry cried out, "Krum's got it!" Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the ground, who didn't seem to have realized what just happened. Then slowly, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight. "IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"Krum gets the Snitch- But Ireland wins- good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!" "Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind the students. It was the Bulgarian minister of Magic. "You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!" "Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian Minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flaked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman. The top box was suddenly illuminated so everyone within the stands could see inside. Two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking fairly disgruntled.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers- Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted. And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively and thousands of Ominoculars were pointed at the top box.

One by one the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their minister and Fudge. Krum, who was last, looked like one giant mess, two black eyes blooming on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch and once his name was announced the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the cup into the air and the crowd thundered its approval. At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms, Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that... shame it couldn't have lasted longer... Ah yes, yes, I owe you... how much?" For Fred and George Weasley had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

"Poor Bagman-san," Moka commented.