Ireland versus Uganda
Morning came by quick enough and Harry snatched his glasses from Ron's naughty grasp and placed them on top of his eyes. "What match is the opener?" He asked Ron as they landed on the tent flooring.
"The bloody winner of the last Cup against Uganda?" He tried pronouncing the last countries name, and to Hermione's surprise correctly. The boys ushered Ginny and Hermione out and got changed into appropriate clothing for the beginning match.
"Can't wait!" George exclaimed as he was tying his shoelaces. "Wish we could be up by the butterbeer box as well. Ireland's gonna flog this team!"
The sun was already well and truly up as they walked out the door after breakfast. The rays shook their body and they stumbled around in the extreme heat. They were going on a quest to retrieve little handheld fans and bring them back for the crew before they had lunch and headed on over for the match.
"This is smoking hot," Harry whispered when they reached the doors to the stadium. They walked inside and to Harry's surprise the stadium, was closed off, its roof shut together and an air conditioner roaring in the background.
"What is this? It feels so cold all of a sudden," Ginny and Ron shivered and looked around the hallway to find signs of the change of temperature. Harry started laughing and stared at Hermione who was beginning to explain air conditioning to Ron and Ginny.
After they were taught what the machines did, they searched the commercial hallway and found and Australian vendor who was selling useful appliances for everyone. They bought six, handheld fans and on the walk back to the campsite were persuaded by George to purchase a boomerang; a weapon that Australians apparently used to kill kangaroos.
They arrived back to the tent complex and were served lunch by Andromeda, before they took their essential belongings and joined the crowd of witches and wizards who were walking towards the match.
Just as they approached the doors, Harry felt a vibrant stinging sensation in his lower back, and screamed as his feet buckled from under him and he slowly began to rise from the dirt and gravel road.
"No wonder you stopped Care of Magical Creatures," a familiar voice echoed from down below. A witch with elegant white hair had arrived next to Ron, Ginny and Hermione accompanied with Neville and his grandparents.
"Luna! What are you talking about?" Harry tried as he rose to about half the height of the stadium. Eyes were all turned in his direction and many witches and wizards were pointing at the celebrity.
"It's a Billywig, if they …" Luna whispered from below and was cut out when he reached the tip of the stadium's height. It was as if he was back to playing Quidditch back in the grounds at Hogwarts. "Calm down," he told himself.
He waled and kicked his legs but he continued to rise, and soon the stadium was barely the size of an apple from this high up. He blinked over and over, and as the stadium became the size of a head of a pin, he started descending and slowly falling back to the edge of the earth.
There were only a few trailing witches and wizards, by the time Harry returned to his feet, the Weasleys nowhere to be seen. He made his way down the hallways into the stairway that opened out into the stadium.
The crowd was spectacular, the entire stadium packed with witches and wizards. He noticed a small hand waving far out in the distance and slowly jogged up to the butterbeer booth, up the very top of the stadium.
"They was a handful," Harry laughed out of breath, finding his seat next to Neville and Ginny. The crowd was roaring in anticipation, and a figure rose from the Minister's booth towards the centre of the stadium.
"Good Afternoon, witches and wizards. This is the first match of this years Quidditch World Cup. Australia is grateful for this opportunity, but since you're all on the edge of the seats, let me introduce you to both the Irish and Ugandan sides," The Australian Minister began and fourteen players flew onto the pitch dressed in Green, Red, Yellow and Black representing their team colours.
The commentators began their introduction, both with an extremely deep Australian accent. The teams flew up high enough for everyone to see, and lowered themselves, arranging into two straight lines. "Raise your brooms, set, go!"
The quaffle was tossed up into the air, the snitch released and the two bludgers sent spiralling around the stadium. "Irish in possession, Crikey. Mullet's got the ball passes it to Troy who swerves right and throws it up to Moran." The commentator began his guide and Harry stared across at the Irish Seeker, who went diving down towards the bottom of the pitch.
"Aidan Lynch, diving towards the bottom of the pitch, pulling up left and knocks himself out! A clean turn there but not enough and the snitch has zoomed out oh his sight. Moran down to Troy, who gives it to Mullet and here comes the match's first score … Crikey! In the goals clean!"
The Irish seeker had definitely knocked himself out again, healers coming to his aid on the Quidditch Pitch. The referee blew her whistle rushing to Lynch's side and sharing a conversation with him just as he regained consciousness.
"Ten nil, Ireland," The commentators roared and went to glare at the Irish Seeker. "Looks like Lynch will be fine, we're back on our brooms, Uganda's in possession. Quigley knocks a bludger at Chaser; Batte who dodges it and continues on. He passes it left to Damba, a fine young gentleman who passes it back to Batte. Batte is charging down the stretch, interrupted by Moran who snatches it straight out of his left hand."
Batte looked dazzled at what Moran had just done, however continued to play, flying back up the opposite end of the pitch to watch his keeper save the next goal.
The game continued on throughout the afternoon, and went on past dinnertime, with Australian house-elves bringing out a fresh, boiling hot soup in bowls for everyone in the stadium. "So unfair! We need to sort this out," Hermione whispered and took out her notebook.
As the sun set out over the horizon the score came to be a clean 680- 590, Uganda winning much to Luna's disappointment. "Irish deserve to win this one,"
It was beginning to become dark and the time settle into ten o'clock when the Uganda seeker caught sight of the snitch, up near the butterbeer box. Harry had of course spotted the snitch, minutes ago, hovering a few metres right of where he was sitting.
"Onyait flying towards the snitch, if he gets this, Uganda go straight to the Quarterfinals!" The commentator screamed excitingly and watched as Irish seeker; Aidan followed. The snitch immediately dashed to the right and flew higher, before reaching the roof of the stadium.
"The snitch seems to be stuck!" The commentator laughed and leaned forward to watch Onyait lunge forward. The snitch, anticipating his next move, flew below, right through his hands as he fell off his broom into the crowd right of Harry and the crew.
He waled as he fell into an aisle and knocked his head on the back of one of the timber seats, his legs landed in the lap of an Asian tourist. "Onyait down and down on top of the crowd!" The commentator laughed and returned his eyes to the pitch.
It was here that the Irish seeker grasped the snitch in front of the entire crowd just as Ireland scored their sixth consecutive score. The crowd fell silent, and calculated the scores in their head, and from a small box in the top left of the stadium, an Irishmen began to scream and watched as the Irish team danced triumphantly to their win.
The stadium quickly filed out, as eleven o'clock came to their doorstep, the sounds of Irish dancing and singing still playing as the early morning came and went, victory to the Irish once again.
