After a brief spat between Molly and the twins, the group of eight sets out into the pre-dawn chill. Mist cloaks the hills, particularly Stoatshead Hill, the one Mr. Weasley points out as their destination. Izuku finds a game trail and follows it up—if nothing else, his morning runs have him well familiarized with the lay of the land—while the others pick and slip their way through dew-soaked grass.

Shoes and pantlegs thoroughly dampened despite the easier route, Izuku reaches the top of the hill before the others, where he finds two other people combing through the grass. Within moments, the others are joining Izuku, breathing hard. Mr. Weasley sends them searching for the portkey, the eight of them spreading out and looking just like the two strangers.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son!" one of the strangers shouts, waving them over.

Mr. Weasley greets the man, a smile on his face as he strides over. "Amos!"

Shaking hands with the other man, Mr. Weasley introduces him to the rest of them: Amos Diggory, who also works at the Ministry. Along with his son, Cedric.

A boy around Izuku's age with dark eyes and flat, dark hair (it's still to dark for Izuku to make out exactly what hair color), waves at them and says hi. Most of them greet him in return, except for Fred and George, for whatever reason.

Mr. Diggory and Mr. Weasley chat for a few moments until—

"Merlin's beard. Harry? Harry Potter?"

To Izuku's right, Harry tenses and grimaces. "Er, yeah."

Mr. Diggory peers down at Harry, eyes raking over him until they come to rest, staring at some point on his head. Izuku glances over, as well—perhaps Mr. Diggory is just startled by that strange scar of Harry's, though that doesn't explain how Mr. Diggory knows of him.

Mr. Diggory's continued talking does clear that up: apparently, Cedric's on a different house Quidditch team, and beat Harry's team, last year, though apparently by accident.

Before any more awkward conversation can ensue, Mr. Weasley pulls their attention to the portkey, and they all gather around it, ten people and their big backpacks. Izuku feels a little ridiculous as he presses a finger to dank leather and prepares for the spinning.

No matter how prepared he makes himself, he still falls as they come to a stop, joining the tangle of limbs and teenagers. A wind-swept Cedric offers his hand to Fred, who ignores it and climbs to his feet with George.

Izuku, when Cedric's hand is offered to him, takes it and lets the taller boy pull him to his feet.

"First portkey?" Cedric asks.

Izuku nods. "Yeah. I guess it probably wasn't yours, since you're still standing."

Cedric shakes his head. "No, it wasn't. Do you mind if I ask your name? I haven't seen you around before, and, well, I don't think Mr. Weasley got around to introducing you before my father …. Well."

"Midoriya," Izuku replies, offering his hand to Cedric. "I'm transferring to Hogwarts, and I've been staying with the Weasleys."

Cedric shakes his hand. "I'll look forward to seeing you this year, then. Do you know yet what House you're in? I'm in Hufflepuff—my sixth year."

"Gryffindor, fourth year," Izuku replies.

"Ah, same as Harry, then."

"And Ron and Hermione," Izuku adds.

Cedric blushes, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. "Right. Didn't know their names, though I probably should."

Before they can talk any more, Mr. Diggory calls for their attention.

"We're heading this way," he says, gesturing to where Mr. Weasley is already herding the rest of the Weasley party away from their landing point.

After a short walk through the heavy early morning mist, they stop next to a small stone cottage and send Mr. Diggory and Cedric off on their way.

Mr. Weasley talks to a man in the cottage, this one dressed sensibly, compared to the strange combinations of clothing Izuku's seen passing by. Harry helps Mr. Weasley with the paper money before another wizard apparates in and jabs his wand at the man, snapping out a spell Izuku isn't familiar with.

The man's behavior changes, growing placid (where before he had been suspiciously questioning Mr. Weasley) while his eyes cross and he hands over a map and some change.

They walk away, the strange wizard following them and muttering to Mr. Weasley. Izuku leans in to listen—the Memory Charm?

Something twists, unease chewing deep inside him.

No one else seems unsettled, blithely continuing on as they walk past tents with chimneys and bells and windchimes. Other tents stand out even more: one made of what appears to be opaque stained glass, one palace-like with live peacocks tethered to a stake outside it, one with a fountain on its roof.

Mr. Weasley smiles as they walk past these ones. "Always the same—we can't resist showing off when we all get together! Ah, here we are, this is us."

At the edge of a forest of skinny oak trees, a wooden sign reading Weezly demarcates an empty spot. Mr. Weasley enthusiastically sets out the tents, turning to Harry and asking him where they should start with setting up. Harry stammers out some vague answer, and despite the fact Harry and Hermione clearly have never set up a tent before, and Izuku knowing that he's never set up a tent before, they manage to get two small tents erected without much difficulty.

"Are we really supposed to all fit in these?" Izuku asks, leaning toward Harry and Hermione.

"These are wizard tent. Who knows what—"

Hermione trails off as Mr. Weasley crouches down and crawls into one of the tents. He calls them in, and Harry goes first, pushing the front flap aside.

Izuku has to nudge Harry out of the way to follow him in, but once he looks up, he understands why Harry had been standing, gob-smacked, in front of the entrance. The tent, on the inside, does not resemble a tent at all: rather, a whole apartment, with several different rooms.

After a brief tour of the other, smaller tent, Mr. Weasley sends Harry, Ron, and Hermione off to collect water. Izuku considers tagging along, but before he can make up his mind, Fred and George bracket him, hooking their elbows through his.

"You're with us, my good chap," Fred declares.

George nods his agreement. "We've seen how strong you are. Dad's going to have us hauling wood around by hand—we're not letting you wander off to the water tap."

They frog march Izuku into the woods with Ginny and Mr. Weasley, Ginny laughing at Izuku's misfortune the whole way. They spend maybe fifteen minutes collecting wood, stacking it all up in Izuku's arms, the four Weasleys curious to see just how much he can actually carry. With each piece they stack onto the pile in his arms, their incredulous expressions grow, until they finally have to give up and head back lest they risk knocking the whole thing crashing down onto Izuku.

After stacking the wood between the tents, the three sent for water still have yet to return, so Izuku pulls Ginny aside, away from her brothers and father.

"The Memory Charm," Izuku begins. "Does that—what does it do?"

"It erases memories," Ginny replies, shrugging. "Right—that Obliviator used it on Mr. Roberts."

"Why?" Izuku tilts his head, stomach turning uneasily.

"Because he's a muggle?" Ginny replies, raising her eyebrows like she's explaining something exceedingly obvious. "You can't have forgotten about the Statute of Secrecy, that's first-year material. Muggles can't know about magic, unless they're related to a muggleborn."

"So you just … go around, wiping their memories?" Izuku bares his teeth, his guts all tangling around themselves.

"Um … yes? It would be too dangerous to leave them," Ginny replies. "It doesn't matter—"

"It does matter," Izuku snaps. "That's—you just—"

"It's the law," Ginny's voice grows cold as she turns away. "Don't yell at me about it."

Izuku watches her go, his entire core as cold as her voice.

A spell that can erase memories. And they just … go around, erasing the memories of non-magical people if they see magic happening. They have these groundskeepers here, all non-magical, all getting their memories wiped regularly, just because all these witches and wizards are here for their sporting event. Wouldn't it be simpler, kinder, to send the non-magical groundskeepers away and have wizards running it?

And none of them see any problem with it.

Unbidden, Izuku's thoughts turn toward Shinsou. He'd been given so much grief by people just because of his quirk, just because they thought he would be willing to use it on anyone. And here are these wizards, just running around willy-nilly erasing memories, the same way everyone thought Shinsou just ran around using Brainwashing on people.

Izuku grits his teeth, takes several deep breaths, and turns to rejoin the Weasleys. If it's the law, he's not going to do anything by getting angry here—and it wouldn't do to needlessly blame them all for Shinsou's struggles, when they don't even exist within the same universe. Even though he yearns to go and spirit away Mr. Roberts, and every other non-magical person working the event, he bites down the urge. He has nowhere to take them, no way to snatch them away unnoticed and unseen, and he's not enough of an idiot to take on the full force of every magical person here.

He'll just have to wait and see.

The Weasleys all sit in front of the tent: Mr. Weasley chats with some of the witches and wizards passing by, Fred and George sit with their heads together like the rest of the world's unimportant, and Ginny sits on her own at the edge of the trees, eyes distant as she watches the sun rise.

Izuku crouches down next to her, reluctant to get his pants wet in the dew. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. The idea of people having their memories erased without any say in the matter is … horrible."

Ginny shrugs. "It's the way things are. Apology accepted, by the way."

"It may be, but that doesn't change the fact that it's—that it isn't right." He keeps his voice mild, barely restraining himself from biting out the words.

A quizzical expression on her face, Ginny looks up at him. "How else are we supposed to keep muggles from discovering the magical world when accidents happen?"

"I …. I don't know." Izuku frowns at the ground and picks at the grass. "But anything has to be better than that."

Ginny, apparently, doesn't have an answer, either.

The two of them rejoin everyone else after Harry, Ron, and Hermione return with the water. At that point, Mr. Weasley begins keeping up a running commentary on who walks by, pointing them out for Harry and Hermione. Izuku's attention snaps over when he mentions Unspeakables, but the two he points to are both men, and both Izuku had met were likely women.

Percy, Charlie, and Bill arrive in time to eat lunch with them, walking out of the woods from where they just apparated in.

"Aha!" Mr. Weasley jumps to his feet, startling Izuku, who, along with Ginny, had been listening to Harry, Ron, and Hermione talk about who they saw while collecting water. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

A broad-shouldered man strides up to them with a bouncy walk while wearing some of the most eye-bleeding clothes Izuku has ever seen, and that list includes Ashido's dance outfits and Dumbledore's clashing robes.

Okay, maybe they're not that bad, but the horizontal black-and-yellow stripes are a bit ridiculous, making the man look like a walking wasp.

"Arthur, old man, what a day, eh, what a day!" The new man huffs, slightly out of breath, as he shakes Mr. Weasley's hand. "Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night on the way and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements! Not much more for me to do."

In the distance, violet sparks shoot twenty feet in the air, and a crowd of wizards rush off toward it, all in a tizzy.

Percy approaches the man, hand outstretched, as Mr. Weasley begins introducing them all. At Harry's name, the man does a double take, eyes flicking back toward him.

"Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such great tickets," Mr. Weasley finishes, pointing at Mr. Bagman.

Mr. Bagman grins and waves him off. "Fancy a bet on the match, Arthur?" He shakes his pockets, coins clattering together in them. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first—I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years—and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm for a week-long match."

Mr. Weasley bets a galleon on an Ireland win, which Mr. Bagman (somewhat disappointedly) takes before turning and asking for any more bets.

Fred and George bet their entire saving's and a fake wand that Ireland will win, but Bulgaria will get the snitch, despite their father chiding them on being careless with their money. Mr. Bagman asks them to keep an eye out for Percy's boss, Mr. Crouch, before conversation turns to the missing Ministry witch.

"Oh—speak of the devil! Barty!"

Compared to all the other wizards Izuku has seen, the man who just appeared wouldn't look out of place in an office. All crisp lines, every hair perfectly in place, he looks over the group with cold, lined eyes.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," Mr. Bagman says and gives the grass next to him a pat.

Mr. Crouch frowns at him. "No thank you, Ludo. I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after?" Bagman laughs him off. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

Before anyone can say anymore, Percy offers tea to Mr. Crouch. Izuku finds himself (and Harry and Hermione) listening intently as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Crouch discuss flying carpet embargoes.

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?"

"Glad?" Mr. Bagman exclaims, scandalized. "This is the most fun I've had in years! Still, it's not as though we don't have anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raises his eyebrows. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—"

"Oh, details! They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts—"

Mr. Crouch cuts him off, words sharp enough to cut. "Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know. Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

After Mr. Bagman sucks down the rest of his tea, the two of them say their good-byes and apparate away.

Immediately, Fred, George, and Ron set upon Mr. Weasley, demanding to know what's going to be happening at Hogwarts. He and Percy shoo them off, though Bill and Charlie, unseen by the three of them, share furtive smiles.

As the afternoon passes, more and more displays of magic break out, and the Ministry seems to give up on trying to contain it. Excitement gathers like a buzz behind everyone's brains, and salesmen begin to appear, magical carts floating along behind them and glowing in the twilight as the sun sets.

Izuku, lacking money, watches as the others buy merchandise to show their team colors. He joins Fred and George, also moneyless, watching as the others buy green shamrocks and Harry buys golden, knob-covered binoculars for himself, Ron, and Hermione.

A deep gong, ringing over the field, draws everyone's attention, and in the shadows of the woods, red and green lanterns flare to life, lighting paths through it.

"It's time! Come on, come on, let's go!" Mr. Weasley waves them along, bounding into the trees like a much younger man. The wizards all pour into the woods, the Weasley clan (plus Harry, Hermione, and Izuku) at the head of it all as those closest to the wood. Thousands of voices rise in the air, chants and shouts and singing, all of it reminding Izuku of the roar of the Sports Festival crowd. The Weasleys and Harry all grin easily, and even Hermione's eyes gleam bright, the lanterns' reflections red-and-green stars.

The stadium itself comes into sight, golden walls soaring high above the ground. Crowds of wizards already congregate around entrances, a frenzy of fevered excitement.

Tickets checked, they climb the stairs, steps muffled on rich purple carpet. The crowd around them trickles away, branching off for different levels of seating, until only the group of them are left as they climb that last couple staircases and emerge into the open air.

For a moment, Izuku can imagine he's activated Float, coming to soar over the field. Their seats are at the highest point of the stadium, exactly between two sets of golden rings soaring high into the air on opposite ends of the arena.

The eight of them file into the front row of seats, Izuku toward the middle between Hermione and Ginny.

"Dobby?"

Harry's exclamation draws the attention of both his closest friends, along with Izuku, and they all turn to see whoever he was addressing.

A small creature with batlike ears, a towel wrapped around its body like a toga, was the only other living being sharing the box with them. Its hands, covering its face, shift for a moment, to reveal wide brown eyes.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" they squeak, voice high and quavering.

"Sorry—I thought you were someone I knew."

Izuku, along with every Weasley there, listens to the conversation. The off-kilter feeling in his chest—sitting disregarded since he set it aside after his conversation with Ginny—grows heavier the more he hears.

"First mind-wiping, now slavery?" he mutters to himself (and the ghosts in his head) in Japanese.

"What was that?" Hermione asks, turning to him.

"Nothing," Izuku replies.

Her eyes narrow at him, suspiciously, before she turns back to Harry and Ron.

Slowly, more people trickle into the box, all shaking hands with Mr. Weasley, some recognizing Harry, leaving Izuku to wonder yet again why everyone seems to know him. Even a man introduced as the British Minister of Magic greets him like an old friend, turning to the Bulgarian minister and trying to introduce him.

Even as the Minister insults them to Arthur, the Bulgarian Minister chats in rapid-fire Bulgarian with a handful of other high-ranking officials from his country, the group of them chuckling and glancing at Minister Fudge.

The next moment of interest comes when a family of three climbs into the box. All three white-blond and pale-skinned, dressed in fine robes with glittering jewelry, they're introduced as Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy. They all give the Weasleys dirty looks before settling into their seats.

Izuku leans over to Ginny. "What's their problem?"

"They think they're better than us," she replies. "Also, dad punched the lights out of Malfoy Senior, once. And they don't like anyone who isn't a pureblood—they hate Hermione. Think we're blood traitors because we don't."

Before Izuku can respond, Mr. Bagman barrels into the box, blustering about beginning the match. He gets settled, and on Minister Fudge's cue, points his wand at his throat, whispers a spell, and announces the start of the match with a booming voice which echoes across the stadium.

He first introduces the Bulgarian mascots, a red sea of cheering people seething as women glide onto the field like a marching band getting into formation.

Veela, someone calls them. Perhaps the name of their … troupe? Though it's possible they're not even human, given that Izuku's already met (or seen) dwarves and elves. White-gold hair fans out behind them, their faces gleaming under the gold light of the stadium. Izuku can admit they're stunningly gorgeous—

The music starts. He finds himself leaning forward as the veela begin to dance, forms shifting and undulating across the field. Entranced, he reaches toward the railing—

I'm not the only one who catches their opponents off-guard with sexual seduction, Midnight had told them during a lecture one day, her arms crossed and persona set aside. Be careful—I'd be pretty embarrassed if any of my students got tripped up by a trick like that!

Izuku sits back down. Sure, this isn't a fight, and the veela aren't trying to seduce him in order to drop his guard and bring him down, but—

To his left, Harry puts a foot on the railing. Barely thinking, a tendril of Blackwhip rises from Izuku's ankle and snakes between Ron and Hermione's feet before rising and wrapping around Harry's midsection to yank him back. It evaporates into nothing before anyone can look, though Harry, snapped out of it, glances around confusedly.

Izuku probably didn't need to bother, considering the veela stop dancing just moments after he yanked Harry back, but a small part of himself settles back into place.

He doesn't miss the questioning looks both Ginny and Hermione send him, but before they can begin interrogating him, the Irish mascots are announced and soar across the sky in a sparkling burst of green and gold.

"Leprechauns," someone gasps. Their routine catches eyes, bright and beautiful, soaring across the sky before raining down gold on the crowd beneath them. People dive for coins on the ground, beneath seats, fighting like mad over them.

Mr. Bagman announces the teams—

and the game begins.