The group found themselves on a desolate expanse of misty moor. Two grumpy-looking wizards stood ahead of them, one holding a large gold watch and the other clutching a roll of parchment and a quill. Both wizards were dressed as Muggles but in a very amateurish manner. The wizard with the watch wore a tweed suit with knee-high rubber boots, while his companion sported a kilt and a poncho.
"Good morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley greeted, picking up a boot and handing it to the kilted wizard. The wizard tossed it into a box filled with used Portkeys, accompanied by an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a deflated football. "Hello there, Arthur," Basil replied wearily. "Not on duty, I see? Must be nice... We've been here all night. You better move out of the way, we have a large group arriving from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hold on, let me find your campsite... Weasley... Weasley..." Basil consulted his list. "Your site is about a quarter of a mile away, in the first field you come to. Mr. Roberts is the site manager. Diggory is in the second field; ask for Mr. Payne."
"Thanks, Basil," Mr. Weasley said, motioning for everyone to follow him. They set off across the misty moor, their vision obscured. After about twenty minutes, they spotted a small stone cottage next to a gate. Beyond it, hundreds of tents materialized through the mist, stretching up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They bid farewell to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door.
A man stood in the doorway, gazing at the tents. Harry instantly recognized him as the only genuine Muggle for miles. When he heard their footsteps, he turned to face them.
"Morning!" Mr. Weasley greeted cheerfully.
"Morning," replied the Muggle.
"Are you Mr. Roberts?" Mr. Weasley inquired.
"Aye, that's me," confirmed Mr. Roberts. "And who might you be?"
"Weasley—two tents, booked a couple of days ago," Mr. Weasley replied.
"Aye," Mr. Roberts said, checking a list attached to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just one night?"
"That's right," Mr. Weasley affirmed.
"Will you be paying now?" asked Mr. Roberts.
"Ah, yes, certainly," Mr. Weasley said. He stepped back from the cottage and called Harry over. "Help me, Harry," he whispered, taking out a roll of Muggle money and separating the notes. "This one's a... a... a ten? Ah, I see the small number on it now... So this is a five?"
"It's a twenty," Harry corrected in a low voice, aware that Mr. Roberts was trying to catch every word.
"Ah, yes, so it is... I don't know, these bits of paper..." Mr. Weasley muttered.
"Are you from another country?" Mr. Roberts asked, observing Mr. Weasley closely.
"Another country?" Mr. Weasley repeated, puzzled.
"You're not the first one struggling with money," Mr. Roberts remarked. "A couple of blokes tried to pay me with huge gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."
"Really?" Mr. Weasley replied nervously.
Mr. Roberts rummaged for some change in a tin.
"Never had this many people before," he said suddenly, glancing out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. Usually, people just show up..."
"Is that so?" Mr. Weasley asked, reaching out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.
"Aye," Mr. Roberts pondered. "People from all over, loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners, but odd ones, you know? There's a chap walking around in a kilt and a poncho."
"Shouldn't he?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously.
"It's like some sort of rally," Mr. Roberts mused. "They all seem to know each other, like a big party."
At that moment, a wizard dressed in plus-fours appeared out of thin air by Mr. Roberts's front door.
"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts. Immediately, Mr. Roberts's gaze became unfocused, his brows relaxed, and a dreamy expression settled over his face. Harry recognized the signs of a Memory Charm.
"Here's a map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said calmly to Mr. Weasley, handing him the map and his change.
"Thank you very much," Mr. Weasley replied.
The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them to the campsite gate. He looked exhausted, with stubble on his chin and deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once they were out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Having a lot of trouble with him. I have to Memory Charm him ten times a day to keep him content. And Ludo Bagman isn't helping either. He's walking around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a care for Muggle security. I'll be relieved when this is over. See you later, Arthur."
He Disapparated.
"I thought Mr. Bagman was the Head of Magical Games and Sports," Ginny commented, looking surprised. "Shouldn't he know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles?"
"He should," Mr. Weasley replied with a smile, leading them through the campsite gates. "But Ludo has always been a bit... well... lax when it comes to security. However, you couldn't find a more enthusiastic head of the sports department. He played Quidditch for England, you know, and he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."
They trudged through the misty field, passing rows of tents. Most of them appeared ordinary, as if the owners had tried to make them resemble Muggle tents but inadvertently added chimneys, bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, some tents were unmistakably magical, making Harry understand why Mr. Roberts had become suspicious. In the middle of the field stood an extravagant tent made of striped silk, resembling a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tied near the entrance. Further along, they encountered a tent with three floors and turrets, followed by one with an attached front garden complete with a birdbath, sundial, and fountain.
"It's always the same," Mr. Weasley remarked, smiling. "We can't help showing off when we gather. Ah, here we are. This is our spot."
They had reached the edge of the woods at the top of the field, where an empty space awaited them. A small sign hammered into the ground read "Weasley."
"We couldn't have a better spot!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "The field is just beyond the wood there; we're as close as can be." He removed his backpack. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, officially speaking, especially when there are so many of us on Muggle land. We'll be setting up these tents manually! It shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time. Harry, where do you think we should start?"
Harry had never been camping before, as the Dursleys never took him on vacations, preferring to leave him with their neighbor, Mrs. Figg. However, he and Hermione figured out the placements for most of the tent poles and pegs. Harry was having mixed feelings working with Hermione. On one hand he was happy he was working closely with her but on the other hand he was feeling depressed because of her rejection.
Despite Mr. Weasley being more of a hindrance than help due to his excessive excitement with the mallet, they managed to erect a pair of modest two-person tents.
They all stepped back to admire their accomplishment. Harry thought that nobody would guess these were wizarding tents. However, the problem arose when Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, and their party grew to a total of ten people. Hermione seemed to have noticed this too, as she gave Harry a questioning look while Mr. Weasley crawled into the first tent.
"We might be a bit cramped," he called out, "but I think we can all fit. Come and have a look."
Harry crouched down, ducked under the tent flap, and couldn't help but gape. The interior resembled an old-fashioned three-room flat, complete with a bathroom and kitchen. Strangely, the furnishings were reminiscent of Mrs. Figg's house, with crocheted covers on mismatched chairs and a lingering cat odor.
"Well, it won't be for long," Mr. Weasley said, wiping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering into the bedroom, where four bunk beds were situated. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. He doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow; he has lumbago." He examined the dusty kettle. "We'll need water..."
"There's a tap marked on the map the Muggle gave us," Ron mentioned, following Harry inside the tent and seeming unimpressed by its extraordinary dimensions. "It's on the other side of the field."
"Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go fetch us some water," Mr. Weasley suggested, handing them the kettle and saucepans. "The rest of us will gather firewood."
"But we have an oven," Ron protested. "Can't we just—"
"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, his face glowing with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook outdoors on fires. I've seen them do it!"
After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller but devoid of the cat smell, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans. The sun had just risen, and the mist was dissipating, revealing a city of tents in every direction. They made their way through the rows, eagerly taking in the sights. Harry realized for the first time the sheer number of witches and wizards in the world. He had never given much thought to magical communities in other countries.
The other campers were beginning to wake up, starting with families that had young children. Harry had never seen such young witches and wizards before. A toddler, no older than two, squatted outside a pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and happily prodding a slug in the grass. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached, the child's mother hurried out of the tent.
A short distance away, two young witches, just a bit older than the toddler, were riding toy broomsticks that hovered just above the dewy grass. Seeing that stirred something in harry but he was unable to place it.
"I wonder what the Bulgarians have hanging in their tents?" Hermione mused.
"Let's go take a look," Harry suggested, pointing to a cluster of tents adorned with the Bulgarian flag—white, green, and red—fluttering in the breeze.
These tents lacked the overgrowth seen earlier but each displayed the same poster—a surly face with thick black eyebrows. The picture, of course, was moving, though the only actions it performed were blinking and scowling.
"Krum," Ron said quietly.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Krum!" Ron exclaimed. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"
"He looks really grumpy," Hermione remarked, surveying the numerous scowling Krums.
"Grumpy?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Who cares about his expression? He's unbelievable, and he's really young, barely eighteen or so. He's a genius; you'll see tonight."
A small queue had formed near the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined it just behind two men who were engaged in a heated argument.
Walking at a slower pace due to the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. As they walked, they came across familiar faces, including Oliver Wood, the former captain of Harry's Quidditch team, who excitedly introduced Harry to his parents and shared news of his signing with the Puddlemere United reserve team. They also ran into fellow Hogwarts students like Ernie Macmillan and Cho Chang, exchanging greetings and waves. As they were walking Ron held Hermione's hand, fingers intertwined.
Seeing Ron getting chummy with Hermione, Harry quickly pointed out a large group of unfamiliar teenagers nearby.
"Do you think they go to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Or maybe they attend some foreign school?"
"I reckon they go to some foreign school," Ron replied. "I know there are others. Bill had a pen pal from a school in Brazil ages ago. He wanted to go on an exchange trip, but my parents couldn't afford it. His pen pal got offended and sent him a cursed hat that made his ears shrivel up."
Harry chuckled, hiding his relief at distracting Ron. He realized that with the diverse nationalities present in the campsite, it was foolish of him to assume Hogwarts was the only magical school. Glancing at Hermione, who appeared unfazed by the information but was giving him a hard stare, he guessed she must have come across it in one of her many books and did not appreciate him distracting Ron.
After a long while, they finally returned to the Weasley's tents, where George teased them about taking so long. Ron and Hermione blushed while Harry just sighed.
"Met a few people," Ron replied, placing the water down. "Have you started the fire yet?"
"Dad's having a blast with the matches," Fred chimed in.
Indeed, Mr. Weasley was having trouble lighting the fire, but he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He had scattered splintered matches around him, and occasionally he would light one and drop it in surprise.
Hermione kindly took the matchbox from him, showing him the proper way to light a fire. Eventually, they managed to get it started, although it took another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. While they waited, they observed the bustling campsite. The Weasleys' tent was conveniently located near a thoroughfare leading to the field, and Ministry members kept passing by, greeting Mr. Weasley warmly. He provided a running commentary for Harry and Hermione's benefit since his own children were already familiar with the Ministry.
As they cooked eggs and sausages over the fire, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the woods and joined them.
"Just Apparated, Dad," Percy announced. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"
They were enjoying their meal when Mr. Weasley suddenly jumped up, excitedly waving at a man approaching them.
"Aha!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"
Ludo Bagman, wearing flamboyant Quidditch robes with a giant wasp on his chest, was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far. He appeared to be a well-built man who had let himself go a bit since his Quidditch-playing days, but his boyish face and lively demeanor made him look like an overgrown schoolboy.
"Ahoy there!" Bagman called cheerfully as he reached the campfire. "Arthur, old man, what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for better weather? Not a single problem in the arrangements... I haven't had much to do!"
As they exchanged pleasantries, a group of weary-looking Ministry wizards hurried past, pointing at a magical fire in the distance that was sending violet sparks into the air. Percy eagerly approached Bagman, extending his hand with an air of approval despite his disapproval of Bagman's management style.
"Ah, yes," Mr. Weasley said, grinning. "This is my son Percy. He just started at the Ministry. And this is Fred—no, George, sorry—Bill, Charlie, Ron—my daughter Ginny—and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Bagman did a double take upon hearing Harry's name, his eyes flicking up to the scar on Harry's forehead. After the introductions, Mr. Weasley explained that it was thanks to Bagman that they had such good tickets.
"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" Bagman eagerly asked, jingling a considerable amount of gold in his pockets. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me that Bulgaria will score first. What do you say? A Galleon on Ireland to win?"
Mr. Weasley agreed to the bet, and Fred and George, with their pockets emptied by Bagman, offered their own wager—thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts—that Ireland would win but Viktor Krum would catch the Snitch. They even threw in a fake wand as an additional prize, which amused Bagman greatly.
After some objections from Percy, the bets were made, and Bagman turned his attention to Mr. Weasley.
"Do you have a moment for a brew, Mr. Weasley?" Bagman asked. "I'm looking out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian counterpart is causing some trouble, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty will sort it out; he speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."
Mr. Weasley accepted the offer of a cup of tea, and Bagman chatted animatedly about the ongoing preparations for the event. Meanwhile, Percy, who idolized Barty Crouch, couldn't contain his excitement and eagerly mentioned that Crouch spoke over two hundred languages, including Mermish and Gobbledegook.
Fred couldn't resist making a snide remark, stating that speaking Troll was easy—all one had to do was point and grunt. Percy responded with a glare, and Mr. Weasley tried to intervene, concerned about the boys' betting.
Despite his reservations, Mr. Weasley couldn't stop the twins, who pooled their money and made their wagers. Bagman found their fake wand hilarious and happily accepted it. Percy, frozen in disapproval, reluctantly served Bagman his tea.
While they enjoyed their meal and chatted, Mr. Crouch, a stiff and proper man dressed impeccably, Apparated near their campfire. He and Bagman made a striking contrast, with Crouch embodying rigid adherence to rules and regulations. Percy idolized him for precisely that reason, impressed by Crouch's commitment to following the rules.
As Percy eagerly offered tea to Mr. Crouch, the conversation turned to various matters. Mr. Weasley brought up the topic of the embargo on flying carpets and Ali Bashir's displeasure. Mr. Crouch expressed his frustration with Ali's desire to export carpets to Britain, emphasizing the strict categorization of carpets as Muggle Artifacts.
"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman in a cheerful tone.
"Fairly," replied Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no small task, Ludo."
"You must be glad when this is all over," suggested Mr. Weasley.
"Glad? I don't know when I've had more fun," Bagman exclaimed, looking shocked. "Still, there's plenty left to organize, right, Barty? Plenty to look forward to?"
Mr. Crouch raised an eyebrow at Bagman's enthusiasm. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—"
"Oh, details!" Bagman interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you these kids will know soon enough anyway. It's happening at Hogwarts, after all."
"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians," Mr. Crouch said sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."
He pushed his untouched tea back at Percy and waited for Bagman to rise. Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets jingling merrily.
"See you all later!" Bagman announced. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!" With a wave to the group, Bagman and Mr. Crouch both Disapparated.
"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred immediately asked.
"What were they talking about?" added George.
Mr. Weasley smiled and replied, "You'll find out soon enough. It's classified information until the Ministry decides to release it."
"Oh, shut up, Weatherby," retorted Fred.
The excitement in the campsite continued to build as the afternoon turned to evening. The air itself seemed charged with anticipation, and as darkness fell, the Ministry's efforts to suppress magic were abandoned. Salesmen popped up everywhere, offering a vast array of magical merchandise. There were rosettes that squealed players' names, hats adorned with dancing shamrocks, and scarves with roaring lions. Flags from both countries played their national anthems, while miniature models of flying brooms and collectible figures of famous players enchanted the crowds.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione enjoyed exploring the salesmen's wares, each picking out souvenirs. Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a green rosette, but he also yearned for a pair of Omnioculars on display at one cart. The Omnioculars allowed users to replay the action and offered a play-by-play breakdown of the game. The enchantments and runes on the omnioculars fascinated Harry. He wanted to brake them down and study the enchantments and runes on it. He purchased a dozen pairs wanting to see if he could decipher the enchantments on them or modify them to use them in some other way.
"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron lamented, gesturing at his hat.
"That's okay," said Harry, handing Ron and Hermione each a pair of Omnioculars. "Consider this an early Christmas present."
"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said gratefully if a little stiffly.
With their money bags a bit lighter, they returned to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny also donned green rosettes, and Mr. Weasley carried an Irish flag. Fred and George didn't have any souvenirs as they had already given their money to Bagman.
As dusk fell, a deep, booming gong resounded from somewhere beyond the woods. Green and red lanterns illuminated the path to the field, signaling that it was time to head there.
"It's time!" Mr. Weasley declared, his excitement evident. "Come on, let's go!"
Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, 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 highly infectious; Harry couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last 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," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "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..."
They made their way to the entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards. The Ministry witch at the entrance checked their tickets and exclaimed, "Prime seats! Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."
The group climbed the carpeted stairs, passing through the stands on their way to the top. At last, they reached a small box set at the highest point of the stadium, exactly halfway between the
golden goal posts. Inside the box were about twenty purple-and-gilt chairs in two rows.
Looking out over the stadium, Harry saw a scene he could never have imagined - a hundred thousand witches and wizards taking their places in the seats that rose in levels around the long oval field. A mysterious golden light suffused everything, emanating from the stadium itself. The field looked as smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high, and right opposite them, at Harry's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard flashing advertisements across the field.
Harry noticed a tiny creature sitting in the second-to-last seat in the row behind them, wearing a tea towel like a toga, with batlike ears. He recognized the creature as a house-elf and exclaimed, "Dobby?"
The creature looked up, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the size of a large tomato. "Did sir just call me Dobby?" she squeaked in a voice even higher than Dobby's.
Harry realized this wasn't Dobby but another house-elf named Winky. They exchanged some pleasantries, and Harry learned that Dobby was now free, but Winky expressed concerns about his newfound freedom.
Winky explained, "Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."
Confused, Harry asked, "Why not? Why shouldn't he be paid?"
Winky was horrified at the idea, saying, "House-elves is not paid, sir! House-elves does what they are told."
Harry tried to defend Dobby, saying that it was time he had some fun, but Winky disagreed, stating that house-elves are not supposed to have fun.
As they continued their conversation, the stadium box filled with important wizards and even the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, arrived. Percy, Harry, and the others interacted with various individuals, including the Bulgarian Minister, with whom Fudge had some language difficulty.
Finally, the time came for the Quidditch World Cup to begin. As the crowd cheered, a display of team mascots preceded the match, showcasing magical creatures from each team's native land.
As the Quidditch World Cup reached its exhilarating conclusion, the stadium was filled with excitement and anticipation. The crowd cheered as the Bulgarian and Irish teams took the field, their national anthems playing in discordant harmony. Ludo Bagman, with his round, gleaming face, stood at the center, ready to announce the final match.
As Bagman cast a Sonorus charm on his throat, his voice echoed throughout the stadium. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
The spectators erupted into applause and cheers. Thousands of flags waved, adding vibrant colors to the sea of supporters. On the huge blackboard opposite them, the scores showed a tie: BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
"Now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" Bagman declared.
The stands filled with a solid block of scarlet roared in approval. Mr. Weasley leaned forward in his seat, intrigued. "I wonder what they've brought," he said.
As the mascots, known as Veela, glided onto the field, Harry couldn't help but marvel at their beauty. They were the most stunning women he had ever seen, but there was something peculiar about them. Their skin shone with a moon-bright glow, and their white-gold hair fanned out behind them without the slightest breeze. The music began, and Harry's mind went blank as he was entranced by their dance but then the logical side of his brain which had a tremendous growth this summer reminded him what was happening and he pinched himself hard on thigh, the pain distracting him from allure. Harry became really angry that such creatures existed and should he be caught unawares he would not be able to fight it. He decided he needed to find a way to fight such allure and mind control curses.
Meanwhile, Ron, who was sitting beside Harry, looked utterly enchanted by the Veela. He seemed to be in a daze, transfixed by their ethereal allure. Hermione noticed Harry's only slight distraction and gently nudged him. She had to physically pull back ron from diving head first to the stadium floor.
The music abruptly stopped, and Harry blinked, fully shaking off the Veela's enchantment.
Amid the chaos of the crowd's enthusiastic response to the Veela, Harry realized he had a green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron was shredding the shamrocks on his hat absentmindedly, and Mr. Weasley leaned over to take it away.
The focus shifted back to the match, and Bagman introduced the Irish National Team Mascots. They burst onto the field like a green-and-gold comet, delighting the crowd with their display. The Leprechauns entertained the audience with their antics, causing a shower of gold coins to rain down from their shimmering shamrock formation. Ron quickly scooped up some and gave to harry saying "now we are even harry. That should cover up for the omnioculars."
Harry knew it was false gold and would vanish in a few hours but did not say anything, his mind too distracted by the spell work on omnioculars.
The game began, and the Irish Chasers displayed remarkable teamwork and skill. Harry watched the match, switching between normal and slow-motion views on his Omnioculars to capture the thrilling plays.
Ireland scored multiple times, building a significant lead. The Beaters from both teams were brutal, creating a fiercely competitive atmosphere. A series of fouls resulted in penalties, causing the spectators to voice their disagreements loudly. Amidst the chaos, Krum suffered a painful collision and landed heavily on the ground.
Harry was impressed by Krum's bravery and resilience as he continued to play, despite his injuries. He could sense the Irish Seeker, Aidan Lynch, closing in on the Snitch, and the game intensified with anticipation. Lynch's dive was genuine, not a Wronski Feint, and he was in hot pursuit of the elusive Golden Snitch.
"Look at Lynch! He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted.
Lynch and Krum hurtled toward the ground, and Harry could feel the thrill of the chase as the crowd erupted with excitement. Lynch's second collision with the ground left him dazed, and the Irish Seeker was stampeded by an angry mob of veela.
Krum had caught the Snitch but Ireland won the match with 210 to 200 points. The Irish team celebrated with jubilation as they hoisted the Quidditch World Cup into the air.
After the game, Harry saw Krum being treated by mediwizards for his injuries. His appearance was even more disheveled, but he still exuded an air of strength and determination. Krum's resilience made Harry respect him even more as a player.
As the victorious Irish team paraded around the stadium, the Bulgarian Minister of Magic approached Fudge, and they exchanged words in their native language. Harry couldn't understand what they were saying, but the interaction seemed amicable.
When the Irish team entered the Top Box with the Quidditch World Cup, Harry and his friends clapped enthusiastically. The atmosphere was joyous, and Harry couldn't help but feel elated for Ireland's success.
As the day came to an end, Harry couldn't stop thinking about the incredible match and the players' exceptional talents. The Quidditch World Cup had delivered more excitement and magic than he could have ever imagined.
Mr. Weasley urged Fred and George not to tell their mother about their gambling escapades as they descended the purple-carpeted stairs. The twins, excited about their plans for the money they won, reassured their father that they didn't want it confiscated. Mr. Weasley seemed tempted to inquire about their plans but thought better of it.
As they made their way through the crowds, who were celebrating after the Quidditch match, they returned to their tents. The night was filled with singing and leprechauns flying overhead, amusing the campers. They decided to have one last cup of cocoa together before retiring for the night. While discussing the match, they were interrupted by an urgent call from Mr. Weasley.
Something was amiss in the campsite. The festive atmosphere had turned grim, and people were running away from a group of hooded and masked wizards, who seemed to be controlling floating figures with their wands. The hooded figures were marching across the field, and the floating bodies above them appeared to be Muggles, including a campsite manager and his family. The situation was becoming increasingly dangerous as tents were destroyed, and spells were being used recklessly.
Mr. Weasley instructed Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and George to get into the woods and stick together while he and his older sons rushed to assist the Ministry in dealing with the situation. The crowd below the floating figures was preventing the Ministry wizards from intervening, fearing that the Muggles would be harmed if they fell.
Fred led Ginny's hand and led her, along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George, to the safety of the woods. From there, they could see the chaos unfolding in the campsite. The Ministry wizards were struggling to reach the hooded figures and end their dangerous display without endangering the floating Muggles.
The situation was tense and alarming, and they could only hope that the Ministry wizards would be able to restore order and protect the innocent Muggles caught in the midst of this dark spectacle.
Harry on seeing the death eaters laughing at the flight of the Muggles, ` torturing them became enraged. He thought to himself " this is what I have been preparing for. These bastards have already ruined many families. I should not allowed them to ruin another."
while the ministry workers were trying their best they were not able to fight effectively against the death eaters. While the rest of the group were busy running deeper into the forest Harry slowly fell back. In a couple of minutes the rest of the group pulled ahead of him. He didn't want any ministry workers to recognize his face as it may lead to questions for which he might not have answers and may cause trouble for Mr Weasley. So he transfigured a piece of cloth into a mask which was black in colour and changed his jacket into black trench coat. He checked his pouch and pound that he had 15 rune grenades. He counted roughly 20 death eaters.
He quickly cast a disillusionment charm on himself. He felt the telltale feeling of an egg cracking on his head. When he looked at his hand he found that he was not truly invisible but blended into the surroundings like a chameleon. It was clear that he need at more practice to master this charm but for now this would do. Quickly moved behind the group of death eaters.
He wanted to take out as many as possible before commencing and all out Strike with his rune grenades. He knew very well that using stunners and body bind curses would not be effective as they can be easily reversed. He needed to take Lethal action. He felt that it was a good thing that he prepared for exactly such a scenario in this summer. Aiming for one of the death eaters at the back he whispered "breakeum amendo" followed by "quietus". The first was a spell used by Mr Lockheart on him during the second year after the Quiditch match in which he broke his arm. The spell vanished the bones from the targeted body part. Harry aimed the spell at the head of the death eater. As soon as the spell stuck the death eater on the back of his head he fell down without even being able to scream. The "THUD" sound which should have accompanied The Falling of the body never came due to his second spell which suppressed the sound. Harry swiftly moved from that place. The rest of the death eaters were very closely grouped to pick one by one. He knew that once he attacked the group they would let go of the Muggles and the Muggle family may fall to the ground. So he did the only logical thing he could do. He took out a rune Grenade and after activating it banished it to the middle of the death eater group. Before they could even react the grenade exploded sending sharpenel and severely injuring many of them. Harry immediately cast the levitation charm at the family.
" Wingardium Leviosa" he whispered and got hold of the family and started floating them away from the group. While some of the death eaters were severely injured the others who were a little away we were shielded by the bodies of their comrades and quickly started looking all around them to find their attacker.
Harry dropped the muggle family behind a tent and then sent "reductor" curse at the unsuspecting back of a death eater. That man's chest instantaneously caved in when the blasting curse hit him spring a lot of Blood and Bone material into the surroundings. Harry did not pause. He did not wait to see if his curse had found its mark. He started moving quickly throwing spell chain after spell chain not giving the death eaters enough breathing room to regroup. His disillusionment charm had failed during this and the death eaters and the ministry workers could see a man wearing a black mass and trench coat attacking the death eaters. The death eaters started attacking him throwing dark curses like blood boiling curse, entrails expelling curse and bone breaking hex's. Harry started dodging and retaliating but was started to get quickly overwhelmed. He understood that his charm has failed and decided to beat a hasty retreat. Firing a "reducto" curse at the ground caused a lot of dust to rise up. Banishing one of his grenades to another side after setting it to make a loud noise and another Grenade to where the death eaters were grouped together he had them explode at the same time while he ran for the forest. He changed the trench coat back to its original jacket and the mask into the cloth it was previously and tucked it back into his pocket. Just as he was reaching the edge of the forest he heard a voice utter a spell "MORSMODRE".
Harry saw a grey coloured light reaching the sky and transforming into a skull with snake coming out of its mouth. It was the dark mark. It was the symbol of Voldemort. Harry read about it when he was reading recent history this summer.
Going further into Woods he found Hermione and Ron arguing with each other.
" we need to go and search for him Hermione." Ron was saying.
" and where exactly do you want to search for him Ronald? This is a big forest and he might have gone in any direction. Moreover Mr Weasley asked us to stick together. Let them come and then we can search for him together."
Harry decided to show himself at that moment.
Ron was relieved to see him but it was Hermione who questioned " where were you Harry? Why does it seem like you ran a marathon?"
Harry shrugged and replied " while we were running Into The Woods, stray branch caught my shirt. I had to untangle it and during that I lost site of you. I was searching for you from then."
something told Hermione that Harry was lying But she let it go at that moment as there were many others with them. After a few minutes some ministry workers arrived and one of them questioned " who here has cast the dark mark?"