Disclaimer: I don't own HP, only Evan and Iris Potter.
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Published: 12-2-2024
Chapter Two
The Quidditch World Cup
Several weeks later, on August 9th, Aludra sat up, groaning in exhaustion and trying to blink away the blurriness in her vision, when her father shook her awake.
"Up you get, little star," he instructed her with a smile. "Time to get moving. We need to find the Portkey."
"Ugh, it's too early for this," Aludra groaned. "Why couldn't we have apparated there at a normal time instead?"
"Because we have a Portkey in twenty-three minutes," he grinned back. "Look on the bright side, because we hiked up the hill last night, you got an extra thirty minutes of sleep. Now, up and dressed in the main area in five minutes please. Everyone else is already getting ready."
Aludra huffed and swung her legs out of the bunk, staggering to her feet as Sirius left her room. She quickly fixed her hair into a fresh braid, tugged on her muggle clothes and headed for the main living area. As Sirius had warned, everyone else was already there, her fellow teenagers with their hands over their mouths to cover their yawns.
"Right then," Uncle Amos grinned, absurdly awake for five minutes past five in the morning. "That's everyone. The Portkey is somewhere on the hilltop, so spread out to find it."
The young ones mumbled confirmation as they stumbled tiredly from the tent. Aludra caught sight of Sirius tapping the top of the tent, which looked like it would hold two people curled up at most, causing it to collapse into a small square that he shoved in his rucksack. She turned away, searching for any sign of the Portkey.
She had to admit, she wasn't looking forward to using it. Aludra had never been fond of Portkeys, finding they made her dizzy, and it had taken a lot of practice before she learned how not to topple over when using one.
"I found it!" Neville called after a few minutes of them searching. They all went over to join him, finding him standing in front of a dirty old boot. Aludra wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"Ugh, really?" She groaned.
"Portkeys are meant to be inconspicuous," Emma pointed out, though she too grimaced a bit at the stench of the boot.
"The Weasleys had better hurry up," Uncle Remus noted, checking his watch with a frown. "The Portkey activates in seven minutes."
"There they are!" Cedric said, pointing down the hill. Uncle Amos stepped forward and called out, waving.
"Arthur! Over here, we've found it!"
A gaggle of redheads, with three dark-haired people mixed in, came into view, panting at the steepness of the hill. Aludra grimaced in sympathy. She was pretty sure she still had a stitch from climbing it last night.
"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr Weasley to his children. "Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric? And of course, you know the Blacks and Neville."
"Hey guys," Evan said brightly.
"Hey, Evan," Neville sighed. Aludra was too busy fighting a yawn to respond with more than a tired wave.
"Ally's not an early bird, as you can see," Sirius smirked. "Honestly, Ally, it's just a little while then you can go back to bed."
"It's not the same when you've already been woken up," she muttered sullenly.
"Well, if we want to not have wasted our sacrifice we had all better put a finger on the Portkey," Remus urged. "Not long left now." Aludra found herself between Evan and Ginny Weasley, stretching uncomfortably to ensure she had her index finger placed firmly on the boot (she was definitely washing her hands as soon as they arrived).
"Three, two, one!" Her father counted down.
He was right on time. As soon as he finished the countdown Aludra felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards. Her feet had left the ground. She could feel Evan and Ginny on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers; they were all speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour that made her nauseous; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magically onwards and she bent her legs, bracing herself, then –
Her feet slammed into the ground; she would have stayed upright, but Ron staggered into Evan who staggered into Aludra and they all fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near her head with a heavy thud.
Aludra looked up. The adults and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.
"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.
"Here you go, Ally, up you get," Sirius urged, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. Aludra glanced around curiously at the area.
They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly as Aludra, who regularly visited her Lupin (surrogate) grandparents in the Muggle world, could see. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.
"Morning, Basil, Herbert," Mr Weasley greeted them, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him.
"Yes, good morning," Aludra's father agreed, along with Uncle Amos.
"Hello there, Arthur, Sirius, Amos," Basil answered wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some … we've been here all night … you'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsites … Weasley … Weasley …" He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Roderick Boggle. Black/Diggory … second field … ask for Anthony Brocklehurst."
"Thanks, Basil," said Mr Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.
They walked with the Weasley-Potter group until they reached the first field, before splitting up so the Black-Diggory party could continue on until they reached their field. Aludra could feel the gaze boring into her back as she walked away, but she refused to give Lord Potter the satisfaction of looking back at him.
"Can you believe, Bagman had the bright idea to keep the Muggles who work the site on while we were here?" Sirius scoffed as they dodged through the elaborate tents and people in the field, searching for their section. "Imagine the amount of Obliviations we would have had to cast! I told him he was ridiculous, and to just send the workers on holiday and put Muggle-Repelling Charms for the week. Really, he's not fit to wield a wand, let alone run a Ministry department.
You know he didn't even report Bertha Jorkins missing? I only found out a few days ago, and she disappeared in June! June! He's a fool."
They had passed Bagman, dressed in full Wimbourne Wasps uniform, betting with some French wixen, and Sirius had gotten annoyed immediately. He'd arrested Bagman at the end of the War, and maintained that the man, while not a Death Eater (too stupid, in Sirius' opinion) should never have been hired by the Ministry. Anytime the man's name came up, Sirius got annoyed.
Emma reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "You won't hear me disagreeing, dear," she stated. "But what about putting that aside for now and focusing on enjoying the match?"
He shot her a fond smile. "Of course, you're right," he agreed. "And by the way, I think that's us." He pointed to an empty square of grass with Diggory/Black scribbled on a sign in front.
He set up the tent with a wave of his wand, and Aludra quickly went in for a desperately needed nap.
She felt much better after a few more hours of sleep and a wash and change of clothes in the bathroom. Remus escorted her, Neville and Cedric to a kiosk where they got a pair of Omnioculars each, along with green scarves and Irish rosettes.
Then, it was time to head to their box.
They were at the top of the stadium, just beside the Minister's Box, where the Weasleys and Potters were. Susan was already there along with Aunt Mia, and the adults spoke quietly while the teenage wixen chatted excitedly about the game as they waited for it to begin. Aludra and her friends were just beside the divider between the sections, so they could easily speak to and hear their friends despite not sharing a box.
The Malfoys, much to Aludra's secret delight, had gotten tickets for the third level from the top, quite good but not half-as good as the ones they had. Ron and Evan both looked blissful when she told them that. Especially when she revealed that they had tried to get top-box tickets, but couldn't manage it.
After about ten minutes, Ludo Bagman raised his wand to his throat and called out "Sonorous!" to begin the commentary.
"Witches and wizards … welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" He cried excitedly.
The spectators screamed and clapped deafeningly in response. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard that had been advertising different British brands and shops opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – a Risk with Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.
"Veela!" Aludra's father exclaimed at the sight of the tall, golden-haired and pale-eyed woman. "Cover your eyes and ears, boys!"
Giggling at the way some men were acting, Aludra helpfully covered Cedric's ears, while Susan clamped her hands over Neville's eyes.
Glancing at the next box, Aludra burst out laughing. Ron was braced as if to dive out of the box, while Evan was half-way through jumping from the box, and held back only by his father and little sister. She felt her smile flicker briefly as she mentally corrected herself to their sister, but then quickly shoved those thoughts away in favour of being amused.
"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice as the Veela stopped dancing and Aludra released Cedric, who looked a bit dazed, "kindly put your wands in the air … for the Irish National Team Mascots!"
Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet had come zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd "ooohed" and "aaaaahed", as though at a firework display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock made up of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Golden coins fell from it, and Aludra covered her head to keep them from hitting her.
"Leprechauns," Sirius called. "Don't bother with the gold, you lot. It'll disappear in an hour."
"It's not as if we need it, anyway!" Susan called back. "It would be fun to see how much we could buy with it, though," she added in a whisper to Aludra and Neville, who hid their laughs behind their hands. Aludra noticed Ron scooping up the gold and giving some to Evan, but kept quiet. She'd mention it to them later.
"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 pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.
"Ivanova!"
A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.
"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!" The red-clad players now formed a large 'V' shape and they did a lap around the pitch, raising their fists in the air when they passed the red section of the stadium.
'That's him, that's him!' yelled Ron over the roar of the crowd.
Aludra focused her Omnioculars, curious to see the famous Seeker in person. To be honest, he wasn't that impressive. Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He was tall and stocky enough that it was hard to believe he was only eighteen. His form wasn't the best for a Seeker position, but he clearly didn't let that stop him.
"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!"
Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch on Firebolts. Aludra could barely see them, but she knew her Omnioculars were recording, so she didn't bother slowing the speed down least she miss something.
"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, the acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" Bagman finished the introductions as a single figure clad in black robes flew out carrying the ball case.
Mostafa released the balls, and the players were off.
"Look at them go!" Cedric cheered as the players soared around the pitch. The Chasers were passing the Quaffle so fast that Bagman barely had a chance to say their names before someone else had it.
"There's the Hawkshead Formation, and, look, Moran's doing the Wollongong Shimmy!" Cedric noted.
"Ireland's really pulling everything out very early," Neville frowned. "Is that the best strategy?"
"Well they've already scored the first goal, so it's working so far," Susan pointed out.
"You'd think they were one person in three bodies!" Aludra said admiringly. It seemed that every time one Irish Chaser shifted, the other two adjusted to compensate. It was really very impressive. She didn't want to even imagine how long it must have taken to manage such an impressive feat.
Within ten minutes, the Irish had scored three goals, while Bulgaria was still at zero, the Irish Keeper, Siobhan Ryan, having blocked their only shot with the Starfish and Stick manoeuvre. The game became bloodier, with the Bulgarian Beaters throwing everything they had at the Irish Chasers, who were doing tricks that made Aludra's 'heart-stopping stunts' look like a cartwheel on the ground, to avoid the Bludgers. It was twenty minutes after Ireland's fourth goal that Ivanova managed to score Bulgaria's first goal.
"Fingers in your ears, boys!" Sirius yelled at Cedric and Neville, as the Veela stood to dance triumphantly.
"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova – oh, I say!" roared Bagman.
One hundred thousand wizards and witches gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that they looked like streaks of colour. Aludra followed their descent through her omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was, but she couldn't and it quickly became clear to her what Krum was doing –
"It's a Wronski Feint!" She shrieked.
"You're right!" Cedric shouted back. "If they don't pull up soon they'll crash!"
He was half-right – at the very last second, Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.
"Fool!" moaned Mr Weasley from the next box. "Krum was feinting!"
"It's time out!' yelled Bagman. "As the standby medi-wizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Irish Seeker Aidan Lynch!"
"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" Aludra exclaimed. "I've never seen a Feint done so well! Oh, that was absolutely brilliant!"
"You try and copy it and you're losing your broom, understood Aludra Scarlet?" Her father called. Aludra pouted in disappointed acceptance.
Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, re-mounted his Firebolt and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything Aludra had seen so far, even at previous professional matches.
After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get even dirtier. As Mullet shot towards the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Aludra didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told her it had been a foul.
"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing – excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And – yes, it's 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 pitch leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily and started to dance again.
The boys covered their ears again, but Aludra, gasping for breath due to her laughter, rapped on their arms and pointed down at the ground so they could join her and Susan's mirth.
They followed her arm and looked down at the pitch, also bursting into laughter. Referee Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his moustache excitedly.
"Now, we can't have that!" said Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"
A medi-wizard came tearing across the pitch, his fingers stuffed in his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard on the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Aludra, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed, and was shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.
"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" Bagman announced. "Now there's something we haven't seen before … oh, this could turn nasty …"
It did: the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, had landed either side of Mostafa, and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating towards 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 Vulchanov 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: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger 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 leprechauns had risen into the air again and, this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed across the pitch towards the Veela. At this, the Veela lost their legendary tempers. They launched themselves across the pitch, and began throwing handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching with fascination through her Omnioculars, Aludra saw that their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders –
Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the Veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one above. Aludra turned this way and that, staring through her Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of her father's hexes when he was duelling –
"Levski – Dimitrov – Moran – Troy – Mullet – Ivanova – Moran again – MORAN SCORES!"
But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov – The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible towards Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him hard 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, and Aludra couldn't blame him; one of the Veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broomtail alight. She did hope he realized Krum was injured soon though. The Bulgarian Seeker was the best player in the match.
"Look at Lynch!" Aludra yelled suddenly, having turned to check on the Irish Seeker.
Lynch had suddenly gone into a dive, and Aludra was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing …
"He's seen the Snitch!" she shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"
Half the crowd seemed to have realised what was happening, the Irish supporters rose in a great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on … but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Aludra had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now, as the pair of them hurtled towards the ground again –
"They're going to crash!" shrieked Susan.
"They're not!" roared Ron from the other box.
"Lynch is!" yelled Evan.
And he was right – for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force, and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry Veela.
"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie Weasley, further down the Minister's box.
"He's got it – Krum's got it – it's all over!" shouted Aludra, utterly delighted.
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: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realised what had happened. Then, slowly, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.
"IRELAND WIN!" shouted Bagman, who, like the Irish, seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WIN – by the Goddess, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"
"That," Susan said a bit faintly, as if suddenly experiencing an adrenaline drop. "Was the best match I've ever seen."
Aludra quite agreed.