CHAPTER TWO: NETWORKING, AND OTHER FUN ACTIVITIES

Gringotts Bank

London, England

20 July 1994

Ron squinted, and carefully inscribed another rune, stylus scraping gently against the stone. As he'd expected, rune inscribing was incredibly boring. It was hours upon hours of painstakingly chiseling tiny runes into stone tablets, and to be honest, it wasn't his favorite job. Luckily, it paid well, since it was technically a job for an adult wizard. Ron wasn't sure how he'd managed to get it, but he wasn't about to question it due to the large number of Galleons accumulating in his Gringotts account.

Ron stretched, pushed back the sleeves of his green workrobe, and continued to work. As uncomfortable as it'd made him feel, the shopping extravaganza with Harry's godfather had been a godsend. Not only did he have several new casual robes, but Sirius had also insisted on purchasing a very expensive, hand-tailored, Acromantula silk set of dress robes. They were charmed with several extra centimeters of fabric, which would lengthen the robe as Ron grew. Sirius had also bullied him into accepting a pair of hydra leather boots. The man had initially insisted on dragonhide, and it'd taken considerable argumentation on Ron's part to talk him down to the less posh hydra leather alternative.

Tongue poking slightly out of the corner of his mouth, Ron etched another rune, thinking once more of the Galleons in his account. He'd be able to help Ginny out a bit more this year. Ginny was extremely independent, but there also were many things she needed that their mum's funds just didn't cover - not that there even were many of those funds left. Mum had been in a downward spiral, and barely had the energy to earn enough money to put a meal on the table. Being at the Burrow was simply depressing, and Ron and Ginny spent as much time at work as possible while Fred and George sequestered themselves in their bedroom. When the four were home, they spent their free time outside playing Quidditch and fighting over who got to ride Charlie's old Shooting Star.

It was somewhat lonely in the Burrow without Percy bustling officiously around. Percy had landed a solid job doing legal work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and was taking classes at the Wizarding College at Cambridge. He'd started renting a flat in London immediately after graduating from Hogwarts. Ron had been there once; it was surprising nice, albeit blandly decorated.

The lunch gong sounded, and Ron quickly finished inscribing the final rune before standing up and heading out to the main lobby. Bill had promised to take him out for lunch, and Ron was thrilled.

Ron didn't have to look hard to find Bill. He stood several centimeters taller than most wizards, a fact that was accentuated by his dragonhide boots, and his hair shone like a beacon. Ron discretely waved him over, and Bill's face split into a wide grin.

"Hey, little brother, how are you?"

"Good. And not so little now," Ron said, noting with pride that he was solidly taller than Bill's shoulder. "I'm probably taller than Percy now."

"Psh. Not that that's really an achievement."

Ron made a face, and Bill chuckled. "We're going to a new Middle Eastern place I found the other day in Sydewaize Alley," Bill said, easily falling into step next to Ron. "They've got some of the best food I've eaten in a long time. Authentic, fresh ingredients, and I'm pretty sure the owners make it themselves instead of using house elves."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

They walked in silence for several minutes.

"So, how's work?" Bill asked.

Ron shrugged. "Eh."

"Boring?"

"By Thunor's bloody hammer, yeah. To be fair, it's what I was expecting, but it's still just so dull. Good money, though."

"Mm. That's unfortunate. It'll be better, though, once you get your O.W.L.s if you want to keep working with Runes. There's a couple of interesting apprenticeship programs you might like. Of course, you also could take the Percy route and go to uni. You've got great marks so far in school, so you can mostly do what you like." Bill looked at him meaningfully, and Ron sighed. He could do what he liked, so long as he took up the Gryffindor lordship. It had seemed like such a fun opportunity at first, but now Ron was beginning to resent Charlie, Fred, and George for shirking their duties.

"This is it," Bill said, gesturing to a small shop. Merlin's Shawarma Shack was emblazoned across the top in white, and a wizard in a bright purple robe with a fluffy beard danced around the letters, even going so far as to charm some of them different colors. "It's pretty great, huh?"

Ron inhaled deeply, and his stomach rumbled. "Uh huh. Can we go eat?"

"Of course."

Several minutes later found them tucked into a booth, large shawarma wraps in front of them. Bill discretely set up a privacy charm.

"So, you like it?"

Ron swallowed his bite of chicken. "Yeah, this is fantastic."

"Good."

They chewed for a moment.

"So, how's life at home?"

"It's…" Ron considered lying for a moment. "...not so good. Mum's been having a real hard time lately."

Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "Has it gotten worse?"

"Er…"

Bill looked away for a heartbeat. "Is she going to work, at least?"

Ron shrugged. "Sometimes? I really don't know. You'd have to ask the twins; they're the ones who are home the most."

Bill sighed. "I'll try to send more money your way, then, especially for school supplies. There's going to be a few extra items this year."

"Extra items? Like what?"

Bill waved a hand dismissively. "Never you mind. You have dress robes, right?"

Ron nodded. "Harry's godfather bought me a set. I have boots that go with them, too."

"Good. I want to start bringing you to networking events with me. Political things, just so you can start learning the ropes and are ready to take up your seat once you turn seventeen. I tried to help Percy a bit, but didn't really have time because of work. He's doing alright, though, I mean, he's a right swot about it, which helps… Anyhow, I want you to be polished and set to go. Our family has been through a lot, and Percy and I have been working hard to revitalize the Weasley name. I know that Charlie, Fred, and George care about our family as well, but they don't have the same responsibility and power that we do, being in the public eye."

Ron nodded uncertainly, fully feeling the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders.

Bill smiled tightly. "You're a good kid, Ron. I feel like it's unfair, the amount of work you do and how much responsibility you have in our family. I wish I could change that…"

"It's just how it is," Ron said finally.

"But it's not how it should be."

They ate in silence. It wasn't a particularly uncomfortable silence, but it was one that settled heavily in the air.

"Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we take Harry to these networking events, too?"

Bill thought for a moment. "I don't see why not."

"Alright. Oh. And one more thing…"

"Mm?"

"You should take Ginny out to lunch here," Ron said, licking the last bits of his wrap off his fingers, "she'll really like the chicken."

Letters Sent Between 20 July and 1 August 1994

Hey Ron!

How's your summer been so far? Mine's been pretty dull, since I've been stuck at the Dursleys for the past couple weeks. Sirius' house was way more fun, but he hadn't finished cleaning out all the Dark artifacts, so it was a bit dangerous. Plus, his house elf is creepy and really didn't like me. I just finished the summer Runes homework, by Merlin Babbling assigns way to much work. Did you do it yet?

Anyway, do you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup? I asked nicely and managed to get tickets, and they're in the Top Box, too! Do you think Hermione would want to go? I can try to get more tickets, but I don't know how far the Boy-Who-Lived thing will take me. I suppose I could owl the Minister and see if he has any extra. He's always awfully keen to take pictures with me, so maybe I could bribe him with that.

Let me know! By the way, I told Hedwig to take your response back since you said Errol has been sick, so if she's waiting around, that's why.

See you soon at Quidditch camp,

Harry

Hi Harry,

Quidditch World Cup tickets? Are you joking? That's crazy, I can't believe you managed to get some, let alone ones in the Top Box. It's suppose to be all sold out! Of course I would like to go, and I think Hermione would be interested as well, but you'd have to ask her. Also, Ginny is very jealous, and she said that you would be her most favorite person if you got her a ticket. Apparently some kid in her year as been bragging about going and lording it over her. No pressure, though, I understand if you can't get any more.

I finished the Runes homework a while ago; we should compare answers before we get back to Hogwarts. I got some really weird answers for some of the translations.

Can't wait for Quidditch camp,

Ron

Dear Harry,

I know you'll be surprised, but I'm actually already going to the Quidditch World Cup! It was one of the excursions you could sign up for for the summer camp I'm going to, and since it only happens once every four years, I figured it was a cultural experience that I shouldn't miss. Besides, Millie would have hated me forever if I missed out on the opportunity.

Of course I already did all our summer work. Why did you think you'd be done sooner than me? You should really make sure to review both elder and younger futhark because we'll be working on the runic applications of spells this year. Hector Umbridge said we won't even use Sumerian cuneiform or Egyptian hieroglyphics that much, but it would be good to review those as well.

If I don't see you at the Quidditch World Cup, we should arrange to meet up in Diagon Alley. Maybe you, me, Millie, Lily, and Ron could go get ice cream at Fortescue's? I will owl them and let you know.

Have fun at Quidditch camp,

Hermione

Hi Ron,

Hermione already has a ticket to the World Cup. Shocking, I know. I think I can get a ticket for Ginny. I'm just waiting for someone to owl me back. Also, I saw that you won a big chess tournament in the Daily Prophet. The reporter said it was because Malfoy wasn't there, but that's obviously a load of rubbish.

Harry

Letters Sent Between 10 August and 15 August 1994

Dear Bill,

Quidditch camp is loads of fun so far. I was worried it would be awkward because Harry pulled a favor to get me here (even if he says he didn't), but it's been fine. He definitely gets special treatment here, and he doesn't seem to realize it, which I guess is good. He's got way posher living quarters, and his roommates are Viktor Krum's younger brother (yes, the Viktor Krum), one of Draco Malfoy's rich cousins, and another super rich kid from France. Apparently they all lived together last year, too.

My roommates are fine. They're all older than me and don't talk to me much, but I've been hanging around Harry's cabin a lot. Baptiste Malfoy is a great chess player, so I've been able to get some good practice in. I didn't expect to do that at Quidditch camp!

One of the coaches went to Hogwarts with Charlie, so that was pretty neat too.

I've got to go to practice now, I'll write you more later,

Ron

Dear Bill,

Do you think there will be problems at the Quidditch World Cup because Ireland will be playing?

Ron

Dear Ron,

I'm glad you're having fun at camp. It sounds like it's been a great experience for you, and a nice break from work. As for your question about the Quidditch World Cup, I honestly don't know. I wish I could tell you that there wouldn't be any problems, but I can't say that for certain. I would keep your wits about you and your wand ready.

Bill

Quidditch World Cup Stadium

Unplottable Location, England

25 August 1994

Harry bounced with anticipation, unable to contain his excitement. It was finally the day of the Quidditch World Cup. He craned his neck, trying - and failing - to see over the crowd. The line to get into the stadium was far too long, and Harry was quickly losing patience.

Next to him, Ron chuckled. "We've still got a long ways to go."

Harry scowled up at him. "Just because you're taller than me…"

"...means I get to lord it over you every second of the day? Absolutely."

Ginny snickered.

"Oh, shut it, Ginny."

Ginny stuck her tongue out, and resuming bouncing on the balls of her feet, clearly just as excited about the match as Harry was.

Ron glared at them in faux embarrassment. "Calm down, would you? Otherwise everyone will think you're desperate for the loo."

Ginny snickered again. "Do you know what-" bounce "-I'm most excited for -" bounce "Ron?"

"What?"

"Ariadne Ogden and Marcela Marchbanks faces when they find out I was in the Top Box. They thought it was corking that they had seats in one of the towers, but oooh they're going to be so jealous that I was in the Top Box."

Ron frowned. "Just don't lord it over them, no matter how tempting it is. Otherwise you'll come off as tacky."

"Don't tell me what to do! And I'm not stupid enough to do that, anyway. I'll just mention it, casual-like."

"So," Harry interrupted, "who do you think is going to win?"

"Ireland!"

"Bulgaria!"

Ron and Ginny stared at each other.

"Look," Ron said, "there's no way Krum won't get the Snitch."

"Yeah, but Ireland's Chasers are better, so if they build up a good enough lead, then it won't matter if Krum gets it."

"Harry, what do you think?"

Harry shrugged diplomatically. "The Chaser strategy is what we used against Durmstrang, and it obviously was effective. The thing is, I feel like that'll be a lot less effective at a professional level just because the skill gap is likely smaller between the teams of Chasers. Also, if Bulgaria's Beaters are good enough, they'll be able to break up the Irish Chasers, so I really think it's anyone's game."

"So, who're you going to be cheering for?"

"Bulgaria, of course," Harry said, patting his robes pocket where his pennet lay. "I'd be stupid not too, and besides, Stefan would kill me if I didn't."

"Stefan?" Ginny asked.

"Stefan Krum. Viktor's younger brother," Harry clarified. "I know him from Quidditch camp."

Ginny goggled at him. "You know Viktor Krum's brother!? That's almost like knowing a celebrity!"

Ron turned on her. "You know Harry Potter!?" he mimicked. "That's like knowing an actual celebrity!"

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny and Harry chorused.

"I know Stefan, too."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Ginny wailed. "I could have spent the entire past week making plans!"

"Making plans?"

"Er, nevermind about that. Say, we're almost to the front of the line! Isn't that great?"

"Smooth, Ginny. Real smooth."

Ginny elbowed Ron in the ribs, and he squawked indignantly.

Harry smirked at them, which led to a staring contest which only stopped when they reached the front of the line.

"Name and tickets, please," the wizard said, sounding thoroughly bored.

Harry smiled winningly. "Harry Potter. I have three tickets."

The wizard gaped at him, then suddenly remembered his manners. "T-top Box. Just keep climbing stairs until there's none left." He punched their tickets, and returned them to Harry. Once they were out of earshot, Harry turned to Ron. "I hate it when people act like that," he complained as they climbed. "It's so annoying."

"It's the price you pay for being famous."

"Yeah, but I don't have to like it."

"You certainly like getting free Quidditch tickets," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but can I have just the perks of being famous? Having people gawk at me is awkward."

"I'm afraid that's just how it works."

Harry mock pouted, and they climbed in silence. The stairs seemed endless, and for once, Harry was grateful for the cross-training workouts at Quidditch camp. At long last, they reached the top where yet another wizard checked their tickets before waving them into the Top Box. It was all Harry could do not to gape like a first year seeing Hogwarts. The view was spectacular, and the Quidditch Pitch was the most beautiful one Harry had ever seen. Silently, he promised himself that one day he would play for England in a stadium as awesome as this one.

"Harry!"

Harry whirled around, then broke into a wide smile. "Stefan! How are you?"

"Good, good. Excited to see Bulgaria beat Ireland, da?"

Harry chuckled. "Of course. Did you see the tiny Viktor Krum statues they were selling back at the campsite?"

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you didn't buy one."

"Nope. Did you?"

"Vhy vould I vant a small Viktor when the normal one bothers me all the time at home?"

"For the laugh?"

"Meh. Harry, I vant to introduce you to my parents, Daniel and Sofia," Stefan said, gesturing to the couple next to him. Mama, Tatko, this is my friend, Harry Potter."

Harry held out a hand for them to shake. "Pleased to meet you," he said. They both shook his hand.

"Ve have heard much about you," Daniel said, his accent far more pronounced than Stefan's. "I am glad Stefan had a good friend at Quidditch camp."

"It was great to have Stefan as a friend as well," Harry said diplomatically.

"You vill be seeing more of him this year, da?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I don't believe so?"

Stefan frowned, and whispered something to his parents in Bulgarian. Daniel's forehead creased, then cleared. "My apologies. English is not the easiest."

Harry couldn't help but feel something fishy was afoot. "No worries. Stefan tried to teach me some Bulgarian at camp, and I was absolutely awful at it. Say, Stefan, Ron's here too, and his sister Ginny." Harry beckoned Ron and Ginny over from where they were hanging back. "Stefan, this is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, Stefan Krum."

"Pleasure to meet you," Stefan said.

Ginny's eyes were wide. "Pleased to meet you too."

They were spared from any more awkward conversation by the arrival of the announcer to the Top Box. Harry, Ron, and Ginny quickly found their seats, which unfortunately were near Draco Malfoy, who was there with his cousin Baptiste and several other platinum blonde witches and wizards that could only be his cousins. Lucius and Narcissa were there too, and talking to other adults instead of their son. Harry didn't blame them, and was quite shocked that they hadn't been alerted to Draco's presence right away.

Harry turned his gaze back to the announcer, who was arguing with a Ministry witch, before glancing towards the door. Immediately, he regretted it. Cornelius Fudge walked in with another wizard in tow, and beamed upon making eye contact with Harry. Harry groaned as Fudge made his way over.

"And here we go again," Harry mutter to Ron, who winced slightly on his behalf.

"Harry!" Fudge greeted him genially, as if they were long-time acquaintances rather than people who had met a handful of time. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, and yourself?"

"Well enough, I suppose," Fudge said, his genial smile slipping slightly. "I've been escorting the Bulgarian Minister of Magic around," he said in an undertone. "Bloke can't understand a word of English." Fudge turned to the wizard next to him, who was dressed in a rather expensive looking robe of black velvet trimmed with gold. "Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk," he struggled, before giving up on the pronunciation, "This is Harry Potter."

The Bulgarian Minister stared at Fudge blankly.

"Harry Potter," Fudge tried again, "you know, the Boy-Who-Lived? Come on, you know who he is…"

Oblansk spotted Harry's scar, and recognition crossed his face.

Harry decided to go out on a limb. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Harry Potter," he said in Bulgarian, silently hoping that the words were at least intelligible.

The wizard looked at him in surprise. "I am Andrei Oblansk. You speak Bulgarian?"

It took Harry a moment to piece together what the man had said. "No, I do not. Just a couple words."

Oblansk said something else, and Harry tried for a friendly smile. "Sorry," he said in English. "I don't understand."

Fudge was also looking at him in surprise. "Harry, you're a man of many talents, I see."

"Not really, I-"

"Everyone ready?" the announcer asked, face shining slightly with perspiration. "Minister - ready to go?"

Fudge pulled away from the conversation with Harry with great reluctance. "Ready when you are, Ludo."

The rotund man pointed his wand at his throat. "Sonorus! Ladies and gentlemen," his voice boomed over the din of the stadium, "Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Chaos reigned for a moment in the stadium as thousands of spectators cheered and waved their rosettes. The giant chalkboard in front of them cleared of advertisements and instead showed the score: Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National team mascots!"

"That'll be veela," Ron muttered next to Harry. "Shove your fingers in your ears unless you want to make an arse out of yourself."

Feeling slightly confused, Harry stuffed his fingers in his ears as a flock of beautiful women glided out onto the field. They were great dancers, too, Harry noticed idly, and appeared to be chanting, too. For a moment, he contemplated taking his fingers out of his ears - after all, he wouldn't want the veela to think he didn't like their performance - before remembering that he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Malfoy and the others.

"And now," roared the announcer, "the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Harry removed his fingers from his ears, and watched in amazement as a green-and-gold comet soared into the stadium.

"It's leprechauns!" Ginny squealed, watching in delight and the comet formed into a shamrock and a rainbow arched over the Pitch. Gold coins rained down.

"Don't bother grabbing any," Ron said quickly. "Leprechaun gold doesn't last."

The great shamrock dissolved, and the leprechauns took up a spot across from the veela.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian national Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet blur whizzed out of an entrance at next to the Pitch, and Harry watched it eagerly in the Omnioculars he'd borrowed from Sirius.

"Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaaand - Krum!"

Harry twiddled the dials on his Omnioculars. Viktor looked exactly like Stefan, albeit with a larger nose. The side of his broom was emblazoned with the word "Firebolt", and Harry felt a twinge of jealousy.

"And now," the announcer continued, "please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaaaand - Lynch!"

"Moran - do you reckon he's related to Aoife and Aedan?" Harry asked Ron quietly.

"Yeah, but it'd be best not to mention it," Ron replied. "There's some wizards from Northern Ireland who opted to move across the border, and it's a big sore point for most of the covens."

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

Harry watched eagerly as Mostafa kicked open the crate of balls and sped into the air. After a blast from his silver whistle, Mostafa soared into the air after them.

"Theeeeeeeeeeey're off! And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

Harry's eyes were glued to his Omnioculars. He'd thought the English professional teams were good, but even they couldn't hold a candle to the obvious prowess of the Irish Chasers. Harry almost wished he'd brought a notebook to take notes in, but the notion was laughable due to the speed of the game.

Just as Harry predicted, the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, had their work cut out for them. The Irish Chasers were a well-oiled goal scoring machine, and Volkov and Vulchanov had to prevent them from earning more than a 150 point lead. The match quickly became more brutal, each side earning their fair share of fouls. Viktor Krum pulled of two impressive Wronski Feints, and Harry shook his head at the idiocy of the Irish Seeker. Honestly, the Wronski Feint was Krum's signature move.

The game passed by all too quickly, and Harry was more than slightly disappointed when it ended, Bulgaria losing by a mere ten points.

"He had to do it," Ron said, "The Irish Chasers were just too good."

"I know, at least he was able to end it on his own terms."

The trophy ceremony happened quickly, the Irish looking all too smug, with the exception of Aidan Lynch, who had crashed into the ground far too many times. The crowd began to dissipate, and Stefan found his way over to Harry. "Harry - and Ron and Ginny, if you are interested - my family plans to hold a small gathering in our tent for Viktor - just a small thing, away from the fans - and you are velcome to come."

"We would love to," Harry said, grinning.

Ron and Ginny looked like Yule had come early. Harry had the feeling that Ginny would be talking about it for the rest of the summer.

A/N: Some of Ludo Bagman's dialogue has been borrowed from chapter eight of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.