Isabella Griffin and the Hissing Portrait

by IndigoPassion

Isabella Griffin thinks she knows it all. Squibs on the family tree are unfortunate and best left unmentioned. Muggleborns are beneath her notice, and Slytherins always rise to the top. Her family adores her, and she loves them back, even if sometimes their expectations can seem to weigh more than their affection. But life isn't as simple as Isabella believes.

Isabella Griffin and The Hissing Portrait

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Chapter One: The 420th Quidditch World Cup

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She didn't know it for many years after, of course, but Isabella Griffin was nine years old the day she met the boy who was going to change her life forever. It was 1986 and the 420th edition of the Quidditch World Cup. America was playing France and the tickets were a present from her parents to her older brother Idan for his N.E.W.T results and as congratulations for being accepted as an intern in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Honestly speaking, they would have attended the match without the cause for celebration, however this time they were to be sitting in the Top Box with the Minister for Magic himself! Invitation only, of course. Still, it was a wonderful surprise for Idan, and for Isabella and also for her younger brother Isaac. Isaac was only seven years old but he simply adored Quidditch and attended all the matches he was allowed with their father since he was old enough to say the word Quaffle.

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"Isabella, Isaac, it's nearly time to leave," called Isabella's mother, Cassiopeia Griffin from the other room, "go put on your shoes and cloak!"

Isaac and Isabella were sitting on the floor in the living room as Cassiopea called to them. Idan hadn't even arrived yet so they both knew that they had plenty of time. Isabella already had her cloak neatly clasped and her shoes were shining. Isabella had been very careful to keep them free of dirt as she absolutely loved the little white shoes her Great Grandfather Pollux had gifted to her. Honestly, it was considerably difficult to persuade her to take them off.

Isaac on the other hand, had no such inclination and instead of putting on his shoes and cloak he had pulled his robes off over his head and was currently wearing nothing but his underwear.

Isabella was playing with her new doll, a present from her Great Aunt (also called Cassiopeia), making her shoot sparks out of her wand. Aunt Cassie always got the siblings the best presents as she would charm them to do things other people's toys couldn't. Betsy, Isabella's new doll, had her own little wand and she could shoot sparks, conjure small droplets of water and make tiny little flames. She didn't have much power, but Isabella adored her none the less.

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As Isabella was contemplating using her doll's magic see if she could set fire to one of her mother's quills that was lying on the table, a loud clang from the visitor's lounge caught the children's attention. That was the room the Floo was set up to, a much grander living room where guests could be graciously accepted into the home in style.

Isaac laughed loudly and jumped up with a mischievous grin on his face, and declared "He fell right into my trap!" before running from the room, still wearing nothing but his underwear.

Isabella quickly grabbed Betsy and jumped to her feet, too. That would have been her other brother, Idan, arriving by floo. The younger siblings hadn't seen their older brother since he had finished Hogwarts, as he had been on long celebratory holiday with friends, enjoying their freedom before they had to settle down with jobs.

"Idan!" Isabella cried, running into the room. He didn't look around as he was currently flailing with his arms in the air and his feet stuck in two small bronze cauldrons.

"Isaac!" the newcomer roared, as he fell backwards onto his bum with a loud CLANG in front of the fireplace. Isaac didn't even have the grace to look sorry and just collapsed into the carpet in a fit of giggles. Isabella took the opportunity as Idan was untangling his feet from the cauldrons to jump on her older brother, squeezing him tightly and sending him straight back down to the ground.

"Honestly, my three children," Cassiopeia looked flustered as she poked her head around the door, a light blush on her usually pale face, "you've been together for less than a minute and you've already made a mess," she glanced pointedly at Idan and the cauldrons on the floor, "creased your cloak," with this she wrinkled her nose at her daughter, "and.. oh, Isaac! Where are your robes?"

She bustled into the room and took Isaac by the wrist, dragging him back to the living room where she had last seen him fully dressed. Isaac's cheerful face turned mournful as he realised playtime was over. "Idan," she paused at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder with a small smile on her face, "as delightful as it is for us to have you back home with us you really need to stop corrupting your siblings, they're so well behaved when you're at Hogwarts."

Idan frowned back at his mother and opened his mouth, ('probably to rightfully place the blame on Isaac', Isabella thought) but didn't get the chance to speak as Cassiopeia swept from the room, dragging Isaac in tow.

"Look at my new toy, Idan!" Isabella demanded immediately, still sat on his lap. Idan looked down at his little sister distractedly but the frown melted from his face as he gently took Betsy to give her a look over. Betsy gave a giggle and waved up at him.

"And who gave you this?" Idan asked as he turned the doll over in his hands. He let out a small laugh as Betsy waved her wand, red sparks shooting out the end like mini fireworks. "That's brilliant!"

"Aunt Cassie" Isabella said, smugly. "We went to visit Uncle Cygnus for dinner and Isaac wanted to play with Ellen," Idan gave the mandatory gasp at that, Ellen had been Isabella's favourite doll for the whole of last year and she famously never liked sharing any of her toys with her little brother. Isabella nodded firmly in agreement to his mock outrage. "He kept trying to take her but I was holding on and he broke her!"

"No!"

"I know!" Isabella agreed, nodding furiously. "I cried and cried and Isaac was holding her in two in his arms. I got so angry with him I just didn't know what to do! And then..." she smirked at her brother as she trailed off.

"And then?" Idan asked, a smile tugging at his cheeks. Their mother had probably already written to him and told him the story.

"KaBOOM!" Isabella raised her arms high above her head to iterate her point. "Ellen EXPLODED in a massive bang and all the bits caught fire and then Isaac was on fire and Mother had to put him out with her wand." She paused a moment and added, almost as an afterthought, "He wasn't hurt though. The flames were cold. He said they tickled."

"Flame freezing," Idan nodded. He had an impressed look on his face and Isabella felt herself bursting with pride at the compliment. "Complex piece of magic, that."

"Yes, well Aunt Cassie thought so too," Isbella grinned, "so she bought me Betsy and charmed her so she can do all this," at her words Betsy gave a bright smile and a little flame erupted from the tip of her tiny wand. "She told me she was so proud of me and I'm a fine example of two proper families. Uncle Cygnus got the house elf to make whatever dessert I wanted and Mother let me have two helpings!"

Idan gave his little sister a proud smile, "And you deserved it!" he agreed firmly, "You'll make an even finer witch than Betsy here once you've had a bit of training.

Isabella beamed back up at him, always happy to be praised by her big brother.

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"Come on, Children, it's time to leave," Elroy Griffin's face appeared in the doorway smiling fondly at his two oldest children sat together on the floor. Idan gently pushed Isabella off his lap and stood up, silently waved his wand at himself, and the crinkles in his robes disappeared without a trace.

"Do me!" Isabella demanded, getting to her feet and raising her arms in the air. Idan smiled and repeated the wand movement over his sister, leaving her presentable enough that even Cassiopeia probably wouldn't have a complaint.

"Father," he said, by way of greeting and turning to Elroy with a big smile.

"Son," Elroy replied with grin of his own. The two men walked towards each other and embraced in the centre of the room. "You're tanned," he stated, pulling away and giving him a look up and down. "We've missed you, here. It'll be good to have you home for a while. Maybe you can even help tame the little ones."

Isabella gave a small frown in response to being called little despite the truth in his words. Isaac was beginning to catch up to her in height even with the two-year age gap. Idan raised an eyebrow and looked over to the two bronze cauldrons still on the floor.

"Really, Father, I was unaware they needed any sort of reigning in."

Elroy Griffin gave a deep chuckle and they turned as Cassiopeia walked back into the living room with Isaac who had been redressed and stood ready. Cassiopeia looked lovely, as always, in deep blue dress robes, a silver cloak and her curly, light brown hair falling loose.

The three siblings all shared their father's dark hair and deep blue eyes along with their mother's curls. Elroy, Idan, Isabella and Isaac all looked like typical Griffins, down to their round faces and fair skin. Cassiopea however had the classic haughty Black features and cold, grey eyes, passed down by the family she was born into.

Sitting in the Ministry Box was a real show of influence and Cassiopeia loved to match the youngest two for such occasions so both Isaac and Isabella were both wearing light blue robes and silver coloured cloaks. For once, Isaac looked like a little angel with dark curls falling in front of his face. With Isaac's long hair and Isabella's short stature, the two really could pass as twins.

Idan wasn't so unfortunate as his brother and sister and he had been allowed to pick his own robes. Cassieopeia looked him up and down, critically, but appeared to be happy with his choice of dark green. Finally, she moved forwards to the centre of the room and embraced him, kissing both his cheeks.

"Handsome as always, my dear Son," she said with a warm look. "Cissy and Lucius are camping there so they've invited us for lunch. Then we'll make our way to the box a little early. Heaven knows we don't want to lose a certain someone in the crowds." She took Isaac by the hand and shot him a warning look as she finished. Isaac smiled up at her, the picture of innocence.

"You can apparate now" Isabella said, rounding on Idan with an almost accusatory tone.

"I can, indeed" Idan replied.

"Then I can side-along with you!" Isabella exclaimed, reaching for his arm.

"No, you most certainly cannot!" Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed dangerously in their direction. "You will side along with you Father, Isabella, and you Idan, will not lose my little girl half way to Tinworth." Idan hastily retracted his sister's arm from his and took a step back

"Well, looks like you'll have to put up with your dear old Father, after all," Elroy sighed, although his smile gave away his amusement. "My lady," he bowed and offered his arm to his only daughter, "would you do an old man the honour and accompany him to the 420th Quidditch World Cup?"

Isabella gave a giggle and a mock curtsy before giving him her hand. He pressed a kiss to it before tucking it in to his arm and standing up straight in mock formality.

"Shall we, then?" he asked before twisting his arm away from Isabella. She caught a quick glance at Isaac looking annoyed as their mother did some last-minute fussing over his hair before there was a pop and everything went black. She felt the pressure around her and tightened her grip on her father's arm before they reappeared on a cliff facing out onto the sea. A man was stood nearby dressed in Ministry robes. There was a small pop and a louder crack as Cassiopeia and Isaac and then Idan appeared a few metres away. The Ministry worker looked up at the newcomers and checked his watch with a bored expression.

"Just in time, Elroy," he addressed the father, "two minutes to go, gather round." He gestured to an old wine bottle on the floor.

"Thank you, Arnold," Elroy nodded to the man, 'come along children."

"Father!" Idan looked scandalised at being called a child in front of a Ministry official.

"And Idan," Elroy corrected, "Children and Idan." He gave tug on Isabella's hand that he was still holding and Cassiopeia pulled Isaac along after her. Elroy held out the wine bottle and they all moved to place a finger on it. Cassiopeia crinkled her nose in disgust and Isabella found herself also hoping it was rather cleaner than it looked.

"How is the wife?" Elroy asked Arnold conversationally. "She must be due soon."

"Oh yes," Arnold puffed his chest, "Two weeks to go. She's just eager for it all to be over."

"Very good," Elroy nodded. "I knew her when she was just a baby herself, you know. She always had such a gentle nature."

"It's going to be a girl," Arnold said with a bright smile, "hopefully she turns out just like her mother."

"How lovely," Cassiopeia gave him a warm look, "girls are such a delight." Isabella stuck her tongue out at Isaac and he mimed being sick in return. Their mother shot him a warning glare and Isabella smiled triumphantly. "Boys can be such a handful. Wish her our best, won't you, Arnold?"

"Will do, Cassiopeia," Arnold replied earnestly, "Enjoy the match!" He looked down at his watch one last time and nodded at the group. Elroy nodded back and Isaac gave a wave.

"Hold on tight , Isaac," Cassiopeia said sharply. "International portkey travel is dangerous. Let go and you could die. You know this."

Isaac opened his mouth but then there was the familiar tug behind the bellybutton and the world went spinning. Isaac's mouth closed instantly, lest he lose his breakfast. You couldn't see anything while travelling by portkey, just a rush of colour and wind as you hurtle through the world, but Isabella could feel her father on one side and Isaac on the other bumping into her. She thought briefly about aiming a kick to Isaac but decided quickly that she didn't really want him to fall and die. Isaac's shoulder hit hers and threw her into her father. Elroy didn't move and Isabella found herself quickly flying back towards Isaac. They didn't travel by portkey all that often and the international portkeys really did take some time. She felt herself feeling dizzier and dizzier and sicker and sicker when-

Her feet slammed into the ground. She braced but didn't manage not to fall, tumbling forwards and Elroy had to pick her up and plop her down back onto her feet. Looking to the side, she saw Idan also helping Isaac back up off the ground.

"Eleven past eleven from Tinworth, England." A voice declared in a heavy French accent. Isabella looked up and saw a man dressed in robes that suggested he worked in the French Ministry. Elroy took a step forward to hand him the old wine bottle and Isabella wobbled as he pulled her with him.

"Here," Cassiopeia said, kneeling next to her daughter with a concerned look. She had taken back hold of Isaac and pulled him over with her. "Just a sip, it was a long journey and you both did well." She uncorked a small vial of light green liquid and handed it to Isabella. She sipped obediently and passed it over to Isaac. The liquid slid uncomfortably down her throat like a ball of snot.

"Ergh," Isaac voiced the same opinion, as he swallowed the potion. "What is this? Troll bogeys?"

"Anti-sickness solution." Cassiopeia sniffed primly as she straightened up and returned the bottle to her robes.

"-and just thirty minutes in that direction." Isabella caught the tail end of her father's conversation with the French Ministry Official and Elroy gave the man a polite nod. The man nodded back with a bored, bland expression on his face before turning back to his parchments and looking at his watch.

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"Come on, then," Elroy said, turning to walk towards a wooded area behind the family. Isabella reached up to take his hand again but her father pulled away. "Hold onto your brother, Bells." He commanded. Cassiopeia pushed Isaac toward Isabella and linked arms with Father as they began to stroll off.

"Don't let go of her hand, Isaac." She warned, not bothering to look back. Isaac gave his sister a brief scowl as he reached out and took her hand in his. Isabella scowled back in response. Idan ambled next to his brother and sister, a flicker of amusement clear on his face.

The three followed their parents through the wooded area, strolling at a peaceful pace. Isaac was beginning to get restless and Isabella could feel him pulling on her arm. Isabella was starting to get impatient too, but there would be no point in rushing their mother and father. She looked down at her feet and noticed that that her pretty white shoes were already covered in mud. Frowning, she rushed forward, yanking Isaac along with her to catch up with Mother and pull on her robes.

"What is it, Isabella?" Cassiopeia asked, turning to look at her daughter, coming to a halt. Isabella said nothing, but moodily stuck a foot out for her to see. Cassiopeia gave a little smile in response, waved her wand over shoes and the dirt flew off leaving the shoes shining and spotless once more. When they walked after that the mud stopped sticking to the shoes, as if repelled.

.

The walk was still another half hour, and holding Isaacs hand became harder and harder as he started to lag behind and pull back. He wanted to hold hands with Isabella about as much as she did him, but Cassiopeia had given Isabella a responsibility and she wasn't going to let him pull free. Isaac was always running off, and now it would be her fault if they lost him.

Looking around, Isabella spotted a small stick on the ground and as they walked by, she knelt down and grabbed it.

"Your money or your life!" She yelled, pointing the stick at her little brother, holding it out like a wand. Isaac laughed and lunged for the stick but Isabella held it just out of reach.

Isaac forced his hand out of hers with a triumphant tug, and raced to grab a stick of his own.

"You're no match for me, Bells!" He roared, brandishing his stick. "Give up! Before it's too late!"

"Oh yeah?" Isabella raised an eyebrow at him, "And how are you going to beat me?" She feinted left and right, not letting him know her next move, then dove to the ground and grabbed a handful of pinecones. Isaac dove to grab his own, but he wasn't fast enough and Isabella started chucking her ammunition in his direction. He twisted out of the way of the first, then ran in front of his parents, who were still walking forward. They only laughed at their children, as Isabella chased after him, throwing pinecone after pinecone, pretending to direct them with her stick. Isaac in turn tried to bat them away with his makeshift wand yelling "Protego! Protego!"

"Maybe it's you who should give up, Isaac!" Isabella taunted gleefully and went to throw another pinecone, but noticed too late her hands were empty. She had used all her ammo! She looked quickly to the ground to grab more to throw, but Isaac gave a victorious laugh, faster than her he had already loaded his arms, his stick on the floor and forgotten.

"What was that, Bells?" He taunted, delighted, "you called me the champion?" he was already aiming a pinecone to his sister's face.

"Did not!" Isabella retorted, but she turned back quickly towards Idan, who was still just behind their parents loudly laughing at their antics, and raced to his side to use him a human shield. Isaac chased after her but she ducked and weaved around Idan and her parents, avoiding all his attacks. One pinecone hit Idan's arm, and another two got Elroy in the leg and the neck before Idan ran in and grabbed them both. Isaac and Isabella were in fits of giggles, both panting heavily, and Cassiopeia and Elroy were both laughing joyfully.

"Enough of that now," Idan said with a laugh, "before you hit Mother and are tragically murdered before you're old enough to get a real wand."

Isabella gave Isaac a big smile and offered her hand to him. He took it with a toothy smile of his own, and Isabella noticed his curly hair was not quite so neat as before. She ran a hand through her own longer curls and could feel they were windswept too.

.

It was only a few minutes more, when Elroy came to a sudden stop.

"Here it is, children!" He said, motioning for them to stand beside him. "The 420th Quidditch World Cup!"

Isabella gave a little gasp of excitement as she bounded up beside him, not needing to drag Isaac with her. The trees ended and a massive open area had been sealed off to muggle eyes. There were tents dotted everywhere as far as the eye could see ranging in size and colour and displaying flags from all over the world. There were tents with turrets and towers, shimmering in magic. There were children flying small brooms and teenagers playing with Quaffles. There were magic carpets flying through the air and Isabella could see some children who must be from Russia as they were riding on upturned trees instead of broomsticks. And in the distance, there were the walls surrounding the Quidditch pitch, seats going up and up and up all the way to where they would be sitting at the top in the Ministry Box later in the evening.

"Father, let us explore!" Isaac pleaded, his face shining with hope.

"Not a chance, Isaac." Cassiopeia answered immediately. "We lost you in Diagon Alley last week, do you really think we will trust you on your own here?"

"Bells will look after me, won't you, Bells?" He turned his face to Isabella, his eyes pleading. Elroy looked at his daughter with a curious expression, silently judging her reliability.

"No." He said, eventually. Isabella found herself having to hold back a sigh of disappointment. "This is a family day," he continued, "We shall go and find the rest of the family and then if Idan wants to take you to explore later he may do so." Isaac started to give a cheer at that but Elroy silenced him with a 'look'. "You will not be bothering your brother, Isaac. If he wants to take you out later, he will."

Idan had a slightly small smile on his face as Elroy gave him a pat on the back and started leading him to the camp site. Isaacs face dropped, but Idan turned and gave a conspiratory wink over his father's shoulder and Isaac and Isabella perked back up immediately.

"I can't understand why Cissy camps at these things when they could just apperate in like we do." Cassiopeia sniffed as the family of five began marching through the field full of tents.

"Come now, Cass, you know how Draco loves Quidditch," Elroy replied with a small smile in Isaac's direction, "I plan on bringing Isaac to camp at the next world cup, myself."

Isaac beamed back at Father with joy, "Really, Father?" he asked, excitedly, "Do you promise?"

"Of course, son." Elroy ruffled his hair affectionately. "We can't have you missing out on all this once you're old enough."

Idan gave a small sniff of disgust, camping, even with the luxuries provided by magic, really wasn't his speed.

"Will you bring me too, Father?" Isabella asked, speeding up a little to catch up with him. She loved Quidditch just as much as Isaac, and wondered silently why he hadn't asked her if she wanted to camp this year.

"Of course, Bells." He smiled warmly down at Isabella. Cassiopeia gave a sniff that rivalled Idan's. They all knew exactly what she thought of young girls going camping. Isabella guessed that that was why her father hadn't taken her this year after all.

"Bells!" a voice called from behind. Cassiopeia and Elroy paused walking and turned around to see a boy with light hair holding a broom in one hand a beaters bat into the other running toward them.

"Lucian," Isabella greeted with a smile. She would have given a more enthusiastic greeting but she noticed her mother had been tightly wound all day and she didn't really want to give her an excuse to direct her disdain towards her. "You're playing Quidditch?"

He caught up to them, puffing a little and his face red. Isabella looked past him and she could see his friends playing a small game about five minutes behind. She wondered briefly why he had run instead of flying but chose not to say anything. Lucian had always been a few sickles short of a galleon when it came to thinking. He was a fantastic flyer, though. She exchanged an amused glance with her mother who was probably thinking the same thing.

"Hello, Lucian," Elroy said with a smile. "Did you come with your family?"

Lucian Bole's family was close to the Griffins, and Lucian was actually named after Isabella's Grandfather.

"Oh, hello sir," Lucian looked up, suddenly remembering his manners. "Yes, they're all here. Do you want me to take you to their tent?"

Elroy glanced at his watch. "No time, I'm afraid. Tell him to pop by the Malfoy's tent if he has the time, will you? It would be good to see your mother, too."

Lucian nodded quickly. "Guess you don't have time to play with us then?" he asked, turning to Isabella with a disappointed look crossing his face.

"Not today, Lucian," Isabella smiled, sneaking a tentative look at her mother who was watching the exchange with an encouraging look on her face, "Idan just got home and we're having a family day. Owl me, and we can set up a game soon, though!"

Lucian gave an enthusiastic nod, and turned back around to run back after his friends. It only took a few meters before he remembered he could fly and jumped onto his broom

'Good girl, Isabella," Cassiopeia said, a smile on the corner of her lips once Lucian was out of earshot. "Lucian's a good boy, from a great family. You two will both be at Hogwarts together and it is great for you to have respectable friends before you even start."

"Lucian is an idiot." Isaac deadpanned, pulling a bit of a face.

"Isaac!" Cassiopeia gasped, horrified. "Lucian is good and polite young boy from a well-respected family!"

"You can be a good and polite young boy and an idiot," Idan offered helpfully, "they aren't mutually exclusive."

Elroy tried and failed to hold back an amused grin, and as he patted his offended wife on the arm. "It's alright dear," he said, "Lucian is a bit slow."

Cassiopeia gave a little huff of annoyance.

"But it's okay," Elroy continued, "Bells will have Rowan, and all of her friends from tutoring. She will plenty of friends at Hogwarts." He paused, giving me a quick frown, "When the time comes, of course." The look on his face said he didn't think anyone needed to worry about his daughter going just anywhere for quite some time. Elroy didn't really like to think about Isabella and Isaac growing up.

With Cassiopeia momentarily placated, Idan bent his knees and looped an arm around Isabella, pulling her ear close to his face. "I think maybe Mother likes Lucian," he teased, "I think maybe Mother likes Lucian... for you."

Isabella gaped wordlessly at her brother in horror, moving to push his face away, but it was too late. Isaac had already heard him. He gave a loud giggle of delight and ducked away from Isabella's already outreaching arms as he started to sing "Bells and Lucian, sitting in a tree, "

"SHUT UP" Isabella screamed, diving at him, filled immediately with all the embarrassment and rage a nine-year-old could possibly have at the idea of... ergh, boys.

"K-I-S-S-I-"

He didn't get to finish his song, as Elroy grabbed his youngest child's arm and pulled him to a stop.

"That's enough, Isaac," he warned, "That's enough from all of you." He cast a glance at Isabella, pre-empting the explosion of rage ready to come. "Don't even think of it, Bells." Was all he said.

"Come on Children," Cassiopeia said, sparing her daughter a sympathetic look. "Let's get ready to see our cousins. Hold my hand Isaac, you will stay with me now. Idan," she looked over her shoulder at her oldest child, "look after your sister, please."

Idan took Isabella's hand obligingly, but started to hum "k - i – s – s – i – n –g" teasingly under his breath.

"SHUT UP!" Isabella hissed, her cheeks blazing red. She whirled around to glare at him, but Idan simply raised an eyebrow and smirked. He was clearly enjoying himself far too much. He gave Isabella an exaggerated wink. "Mother's going to hand-select a husband for you before you even start Hogwarts."

"Not Lucian!" Isabella hissed, stomping hard enough that her pristine white shoes scuffed the grass.

"Absolutely Lucian," Idan said, still grinning and leaning back before Isabella could retaliate.

"Don't you dare-"

"We've arrived," Cassiopeia said brightly, halting in front of a particularly elaborate tent that looked more like a miniature manor house. Its pristine white exterior gleamed and it was adorned with a swirling silver crest bearing the letter "M."

Isabella peered around her mother and noticed an albino peacock strutting in front of the door. Of course, she thought privately, it wouldn't be the Malfoy tent without an albino peacock.

"Lucius has had the elves prepare something special for lunch," Cassiopeia murmured to Elroy as they approached the tent. "He wanted to impress you."

"Lucius always tries too hard," Elroy replied with a chuckle, smoothing his cloak.

.

Inside, the opulence of the Malfoy tent was staggering even to Isabella, and Isabella knew that her family was rich. The interior was larger than it seemed outside, with polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and plush emerald sofas. The air was perfumed with something floral and sharp, and a long dining table was laden with gold-rimmed plates and silver cutlery.

Narcissa, Casseopeia's cousin was sitting in an armchair in the entrance, waiting for them. Isabella didn't know Narcissa that well, even though she was Cassiopeia's cousin, Isabella and her siblings had always spent more time with their father's side of the family.

"Cissy!" Cassiopeia called warmly as they all entered the tent. "It's been too long."

"Cass, darling," Narcissa cooed, standing and opening her arms for an elegant embrace. The two women kissed each other's cheeks lightly. "I was just telling Lucius that you must have been held up. You're far too punctual to be late without reason."

"I have three children, Cissy," Cassiopeia replied with a knowing glance towards her cousin. "That is reason enough." Isabella had to secretly wonder what she meant by that. Isabella had been ready to leave for hours already.

Elroy stepped forward to greet Lucius with a firm handshake. "Lucius, good to see you again. The tent is exquisite, as always."

Lucius Malfoy inclined his head looking rather pleased with himself, "Elroy, always a pleasure. I trust the journey was smooth?"

Lucius had always been a bit distant with Isabella, she thought maybe he didn't really know how to interact with young girls. He usually seemed much more at ease with Idan than with her.

"As smooth as international portkey travel ever is," Elroy replied, brushing an invisible speck off his sleeve. "But still, I must say, Lucius, this tent of yours... I almost mistook it for a foreign embassy."

Perhaps her father didn't like Lucius so much. Isabella wasn't really sure, but still, Lucius was Elroy's wife's cousins husband, and that made him family... she supposed.

Narcissa's lips curved into a delicate smile as she stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on her husband's arm. "Lucius does have a flair for creating an atmosphere, doesn't he, Cass?"

Cassiopeia returned the smile, but she caught Elroy's eye, hinting a shared amusement. "He certainly knows how to set a standard."

Draco Malfoy appeared then, peeking out from behind the plush green sofa with a toy broomstick clutched in his small hands. "Mother, may I show them my broom?" he asked in a high, slightly imperious voice.

"Of course, darling," Narcissa said, reaching over and smoothing back his hair. "Draco's quite taken with it. It only hovers a few inches off the ground, but he's been practicing his turns and dives." She smiled indulgently. "Haven't you, my love?"

Narcissa was never as beautiful as she was when she was smiling at her son. Most of the time, she looked like had just eaten a particularly acid pop, but all that melted away when she interacted with Draco.

Draco puffed his chest out, his little face a mixture of pride and self-importance. "It's not a real broom," he declared solemnly, addressing Isabella and Isaac as though delivering a grand proclamation, "but Father says I'll get one when I'm older. I'll be a Seeker like him."

Isaac's eyes lit up with fascination. "Can I try?" he blurted, stepping forward eagerly.

"Absolutely not," Draco said with a frown, clutching the broom tighter. "It's mine."

Isaac's face fell, but before Cassiopeia could intervene, Isabella stepped forward with what she hoped was a charming smile. "That's a brilliant broom, Draco. Can it really hover all by itself?"

Draco's frown faltered, and he nodded. "It's charmed not to go too high, though. Mother says it's for safety."

"That's smart," Isabella said, trying to keep her tone warm and encouraging. "You don't want to crash into anything before you've had a chance to show everyone how good you are."

Draco blinked, visibly pleased by her response. "Exactly," he said, stepping closer to show her the broom. "Look, it hovers just like this!" He placed it on the floor, and the broom floated a few inches off the ground, gently bobbing. "See?" he said, with an air of triumph. "It's the best toy broom there is. Father says it's almost like a real one."

Isabella crouched down, feigning awe as she examined the broom closer. "It's amazing, Draco," she said. "You must be really good at steering it. Maybe you could show Isaac how you do it? I bet he'd love to see how it works."

Draco glanced at Isaac, his expression still sceptical. "I don't know... it's my broom."

"It's yours, of course," Isabella said quickly, hoping that her tone was light and understanding. "But imagine how impressive it would look if you taught someone else how to use it. That would show how talented you are, don't you think?"

Draco straightened, his little chest puffing out once more. "Well... I suppose I could show him. But just for a minute."

Joy flickered instantly across Isaac's face and he stepped forward eagerly. "Really? Thanks, Draco!"

Draco nodded with a slight sniff, as if granting a royal favour. "Just don't crash it," he said sternly, handing the broom over with deliberate care.

"Isaac," Idan called from where he stood beside their parents, his arms crossed but a smile on his lips. "Be careful, or Narcissa will have both your heads, and probably mine, too."

"I'll be careful!" Isaac called back, already hopping onto the broom. True to its charm, the broom hovered just a few inches off the ground, but Isaac's face was filled with delight as he began to move forward in a slow, wobbly line. This was his first time on a broom.

"Steady your hands!" Draco instructed, stepping closer to supervise. "You don't want to tip too far to the left."

Isaac adjusted his grip, and the broom steadied, gliding forward with a little more confidence. Isabella clapped her hands together, giving Draco her brightest smile. "You're a great teacher, Draco. Look how well he's doing!"

Draco's cheeks flushed faintly with pride. "Well, it's not that hard if you know what you're doing."

Idan strolled over, his hands in his pockets. "Good on you, Draco," he said with a small nod. "Helping others is a sign of true skill."

Draco beamed at the praise, his earlier hesitation now replaced with satisfaction. "I'll teach him how to turn next," he announced, already stepping forward to take the broom back and demonstrate.

Isaac hopped off the broom reluctantly, handing it back to Draco. "Thanks," he said earnestly. "That was brilliant!"

Draco gave a small nod, pleased. "It's the broom, really," he said, but the smug tilt to his head showed he wasn't entirely humble.

"Alright, children," Narcissa's voice floated across the tent, drawing their attention. "Lunch is ready. Come, Draco. You can play more later."

Draco turned back to his mother, the broom tucked securely under his arm. "Coming, Mother," he said before glancing back at Isaac and Isabella. "Maybe I'll let you try again after the match."

"Maybe?" Isaac asked, grinning.

Draco tilted his head cheekily. "If you're lucky."

Isabella bit back a laugh, sharing a knowing look with Idan as they followed the others to the dining table. "You handled that well," Idan murmured to her. "Charming Draco like that. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

.

After a luxurious lunch in the Malfoy tent, the Griffins made their way to the stadium. The path to the Top Box was buzzing with witches and wizards from every corner of the world, dressed in an eclectic mix of traditional robes and team-supporting garb. Children waved miniature flags enchanted to flash the colours of their favoured teams, and vendors called out their wares- scarves, exploding popcorn and omnioculars.

After leaving the opulence of the Malfoy tent, the buzzing atmosphere outside seemed even more vibrant.

Isaac walked ahead with Draco, the two boys chattering animatedly about the upcoming match. Isabella clutched Idan's hand as they weaved through the crowd, the smell of roasted chestnuts mingling with the sharp tang of fireworks. Cassiopeia, Narcissa, Lucius and Elroy walked ahead of them, their polished presence garnering the occasional nod of recognition from passersby.

When they finally reached the grand staircase leading to the Top Box, Isaac and Draco darted ahead, too excited to wait. Isabella hesitated at the foot of the stairs, craning her neck to take in the sheer height of the stadium.

"Afraid of heights, Bells?" Idan teased, nudging her forward.

"Of course not!" Isabella replied, though her grip tightened on the railing as they began to climb. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves. This wasn't just any match. This was the Quidditch World Cup, and they were about to watch it from the best seats in the house.

As they reached the entrance to the Top Box, a Ministry official greeted them, checking their tickets with a quick spell. "Enjoy the match," he said, waving them inside.

.

The Top Box was nothing short of breathtaking. Enclosed by enchantments that muted the wind and provided an unobstructed view of the pitch below. Velvet seats in a crescent shape offered a perfect vantage of the golden hoops at either end of the field. Below, the roaring crowd surged with energy, their cheers punctuated by bursts of fireworks in red, white, and blue for the shared colours of the French and American teams. Vendors moved through the aisles, selling shimmering banners that waved on their own and cups of frothy Butterbeer in mugs that changed their design based on the flag of the team you supported.

Isaac and Draco ran to the front row, their heads barely peeking over the railings as they peered down at the crowd. Draco clutched his toy broom, holding it up like a trophy.

"If Father let me, I could fly all the way to the pitch," Draco declared, edging closer to the railing.

Isaac nodded eagerly, his curls bouncing. "Bet I could too.. Probably faster."

"Don't lean too far over, Draco," Narcissa called, her tone light but firm. "And Isaac, don't encourage him."

Isaac grinned sheepishly but didn't move back an inch.

"Isaac," Cassiopeia said sharply, her grey eyes narrowing. "You will not fall onto the Americans. Step back this instant."

"Yes, Mother," Isaac said with exaggerated patience, though he shifted back a tiny amount.

Isabella lingered near her parents, her attention flitting between the vibrant scene below and her father, who was greeting various Ministry officials with practiced ease. She glanced up at the glittering banners and swirling fireworks, wondering if she should join her brother at the front. Before she could decide, a loud, cheerful voice called out from behind.

"Griffin! Didn't expect to see you again so soon. Haven't you had enough of losing to me?"

Idan's face broke into an easy grin as he turned toward the speaker, a tall, striking young man who strode into their group with an air of casual confidence. "Montague!" Idan exclaimed, clasping the newcomer's hand in a firm shake. "I should've known you'd be here. Trying to rub your so-called victory in my face?"

Damien Montague cut an impressive figure even in the bustling grandeur of the Top Box. Broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed in sleek navy robes trimmed with silver, he carried himself with effortless confidence. His jet-black hair, neatly combed but with a slightly rebellious wave, framed a strong jawline and piercing green eyes that seemed to gleam with perpetual amusement, but there was an understated warmth in his expression that softened his sharp features.

"Victory?" Damien Montague raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, his grin flashing. "You mean my undeniable skill at cards? I'd say it was a bit one-sided, actually. Poor showing on your part."

"Cheater," Idan said without missing a beat, "Don't think I didn't notice that hand of aces that came out of nowhere." Though the look on his face betrayed his delight at seeing his friend.

The noise from the pitch swelled below as a large group of witches and wizards began stomping their feet in unison. Isabella glanced toward the railing, where Isaac was whispering something to Draco.

"You see the players warming up?" Isaac was saying in a hushed tone. "If we were down there, we could see them up close."

"Father says we'll get to meet them after," Draco replied. "But I bet if we flew down now-"

"Draco," Narcissa warned, not looking up from her conversation with Cassiopeia. "Do not test my patience."

Isabella smiled faintly, turning her attention back to Idan and Damien.

"Griffin and Montague, reunited," Damien continued, his tone mock-grand. "Are you here to lose at something else, or have you retired after that fiasco in Greece?"

"Retired? Hardly," Idan shot back. "I've just been letting you enjoy your undeserved bragging rights. Speaking of which, you still owe me for that lost bet."

"Ah, a classic case of selective memory," Damien said, feigning sympathy. "Don't worry; they say it's curable."

Cassiopeia, who had by this point finished greeting her various acquaintances in the Top Box, turned over to the exchange with a fond smile and addressed the young man. "Damien Montague. What a delight to see you. How is your mother?"

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Griffin," Damien said, dipping his head politely. "She sends her regards. And a reminder to Idan that he still owes her for that potions spill in second year."

Damiens mother had worked for a year a Defence against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts. Isabella had never heard the story of the potions spill, but she would have only been three years old at the time. She made a mental reminder to herself for later to find out more of this particular incident.

"She'll never let that go," Idan muttered with a laugh.

"She shouldn't," Damien said, smirking. "Do you know how long it took me to convince her not to owl your parents about it? She made me scrub cauldrons for a week just for associating with you."

"That was your punishment?" Idan snorted. "She gave me detention with Slughorn and wrote to my parents regardless."

"You deserved it," Cassiopeia said crisply, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement.

Elroy noticed the interaction and stepped forward to clap Damien on the shoulder. "It's good to see you again, Damien. Idan tells me you've chosen the Healer's path?"

"Specializing in magical maladies," Damien said with a nod. "They've put me on a team researching Hex Fever. It's a rare disease these days, but when it strikes, it's catastrophic. Thought I'd put my talent to good use."

"Admirable choice, Damien. A rare path, especially for someone with your background."

"Thank you, sir," Damien said, shaking his hand firmly. "It's not as glamorous as some careers, but it's rewarding. But enough about work - where are your siblings, Griffin? Don't tell me little Isabella and Isaac are running loose somewhere down there." He gestured toward the bustling stands below.

"Isaac's up front, plotting his next catastrophe," Idan said, jerking his head toward the railing where Isaac and Draco were leaning dangerously far forward. "Isabella's nine, not so little anymore, but she's already more cunning than most Slytherins I knew in school."

Montague followed his gaze, his grin softening. "She looks just like you. Well, smaller and less likely to hex someone for spilling ink on her essay, I imagine."

Idan smirked. "Give her time."

"Hello Isabella," Damien said warmly, his voice dropping slightly as though addressing her deserved special attention. "Idan never stops talking about you. He's very proud of his little sister."

Isabella felt her cheeks heat. She wasn't sure why, but there was something about the way he looked at her, steady and kind, with a hint of humour, that made her feel as though she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. "That's because he likes to embarrass me," she replied quickly, crossing her arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

Damien chuckled, his smile widening. "Only sometimes." He leaned slightly closer, his voice conspiratorial. "Though give it a couple of years, I bet you've got the better aim in a duel."

Isabella blinked, unsure if he was teasing her or not. "I- maybe," she stammered. "I've never tried."

"Don't let her fool you," Idan cut in, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. "She's been blowing up toys left and right. Mother is ready to ban her from using magic altogether."

"An accidental explosion," Isabella clarified, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "It was Isaac's fault."

"Always someone else's fault, isn't it?" Damien teased, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, if you ever need a second opinion on your wand work, or a partner for a proper duel, let me know. I'll even give you a head start."

For a moment, Isabella forgot to feel self-conscious. She straightened her back and gave him a determined look. "I wouldn't need one," she said firmly.

"Good answer," Damien said with bright smile.

"She's going to beat us both someday," Idan said with mock solemnity.

"No doubt," Damien agreed. "Until then, you'll have to keep an eye on her."

As the two men fell back into easy conversation, Isabella found herself glancing at Damien again. She wasn't sure what it was (his quick smile, his effortless charm, or maybe it was just his incredibly green eyes) but she felt strangely lighter. She decided she liked Damien Montague, though she couldn't have said why.

"Isaac and Draco look like they're about to fall off," Idan observed, his tone light but with the faint edge of an older sibling who'd been through this routine far too many times. Below, the French Keeper had taken to the pitch for a warm up lap, their broom leaving a trail of shimmering blue light. The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos, and Isaac's excited commentary could just be heard over the din.

Draco leaned dangerously far forward, clutching his toy broom as he mimicked the Keeper's movements. "I could save that shot!" he declared, pointing at an imaginary Quaffle soaring through the air. Isaac nodded fervently, adding, "You'd be better than him, for sure!"

"And who's going to get the blame for that, do you think?" Damien asked, his lips twitching as he watched the two boys lean precariously over the railing, their laughter cutting through the hum of the Top Box.

"You," Isabella said brightly, shooting Idan a cheeky grin.

Idan raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned against the back of his chair. "Me? That's an interesting theory, Bells."

"Not a theory," Isabella shot back, her grin widening. "It's basically a rule." And with that she bounded over toward the railing to join her brother and Draco before he could respond.

Idan watched her go, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. "Probably," he muttered under his breath.

Damien leaned back against the velvet seat. "She's got you figured out, mate."

"She's got everyone figured out," Idan replied, watching his sister settle herself between the boys, immediately gesturing for Isaac to step back from the edge. "Nine years old, and she already runs circles around the lot of us."

"Must be exhausting," Damien said with mock sympathy.

"Exhausting is an understatement." Idan said with the weariness of a much older man, then added with a note of brotherly pride, "But she's got the makings of something great. Even if she drives me mad in the process."

They both laughed, their conversation shifting as the hum of the crowd below swelled in anticipation.

.

It was then that Isabella noticed a boy about her age leaning casually against the railing a few seats away. He had deep brown curls that looked as though they'd never been properly brushed and a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. Clutched in his hand was something small and shimmering, catching the sunlight in bursts of red, white and blue.

The boy looked up and noticed her staring, flashing her a wide toothy grin.

"Right," he said, addressing her. "Well, since you're here... fancy a bit of fun?"

Isabella blinked, caught off guard. "What sort of fun?"

The boy patted the empty seat beside him and Isabella shuffled over without a thought. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I've got a glitter bomb. Thinking about giving the Americans below a proper welcome."

Her eyes widened, darting briefly to her parents. Cassiopeia was engaged in conversation with Narcissa, while Elroy looked preoccupied with a Ministry official who was waving her arms in exaggerated movements as she clearly told him a story. Idan, still seated beside Damien, cast a watchful glance toward the group, his mild amusement evident as he kept half an ear on his friend and half an eye on his younger siblings.

"You wouldn't," Isabella said, though she could feel the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.

"Would and will," the boy said with complete confidence in his tone. "Unless," he gave Isabella a suddenly more critical eye, "you're going to stop me."

"Who are you?" Isabella asked, unable to hold her curiosity.

"Hugo Horton," he said, immediately offering Isabella his free hand. "And you?"

"Isabella Griffin," she replied, shaking the hand and glancing at the shimmering orb. "That's a glitter bomb?"

"Only the finest," Hugo said, holding it to the light for her inspection.

Before she could respond, Isaac pulled back from the railings, his eyes widening as he spotted the sphere in Hugo's hand. "What's that? Can I throw it?"

"You can help," Hugo said, rather generously, Isabella thought, handing the glitter bomb to Isaac. "You've got good aim?"

"Only the best," Isaac declared.

"That's debatable," Isabella muttered, though she did not stop Isaac from taking the object.

"Here's the plan," Hugo continued, his voice still low as if they were plotting a heist. "We chuck it from here, right over the railing. By the time it goes off, the sparkles will explode downwards like an upside-down firework. Nobody gets hurt, but everyone remembers us."

"Brilliant," Isaac whispered, clutching the glitter bomb tightly.

"Mad," Isabella countered, though her heart was racing. "If my mother catches us-" She broke off as the crowd roared as the next player's entered the pitch, for their warm up, the vibrations making the velvet seats tremble beneath them.

"She won't," Hugo said. How was he so confident? "Besides, it's not every day you get to cause a scene at the World Cup."

Isaac was already positioning himself at the railing, but Isabella grabbed his arm. "Wait!" she hissed. "Let me see it."

Reluctantly, Isaac handed her the sphere. It felt warm in her palm, humming faintly with magic. She glanced at Hugo, who was watching her expectantly, and then at Isaac, whose face was a mixture of excitement and pleading.

"Fine," she said, handing it back to Hugo. "But if we get caught-"

"We won't, we won't." Hugo assured her again. "On three, yeah?"

They gathered at the railing, their heads ducked low to avoid catching anyone's attention. Isabella's heart pounded in her chest as Hugo began the countdown.

"One... two... three!"

With a toss from Isaac, the glitter bomb sailed over the edge, tumbling gracefully before exploding in a shower of dazzling red, white and blue sparkles in the shape of the American flag. The crowd below erupted in surprised cheers and laughter as the glitter rained down, catching the sunlight like tiny stars.

Isaac whooped loudly, Hugo cheered triumphantly, and even Isabella couldn't suppress a giggle.

"What on earth are you three up to?" Cassiopeia's voice sliced through the noise, carrying even above the magical commentator's booming announcement. "And here comes the French Seeker, taking to the pitch for a warm up lap, it's Sylvain Lemoine!" the announcer bellowed, his voice punctuated by a crackling display of blue and silver sparks.

Isabella froze, the cheers of the crowd below blending into a low roar as she glanced back at her mother. Isaac, too, looked caught between triumph and terror, while Hugo quickly shoved his hands into his pockets, the faint glimmer of glitter still visible on his palms.

Cassiopeia was already on her feet, her keen eyes narrowing as they instinctively clasped their hands behind their backs.

"Hands," she demanded, holding out her own.

Isabella's stomach flipped. She could feel the faint shimmer of glitter dust on her palms, and judging by Isaac's wide-eyed panic, he could too.

As Isabella and Isaac hesitated, their hands hovering just out of reach, Cassiopeia's sharp grey eyes narrowed. Her gaze swept over them with the precision of a wandlight in a dark room, and Isabella's stomach twisted. Surely, she could feel the faint shimmer of glitter lingering on their palms? A lecture about "proper decorum" and "respectable behaviour" loomed in Isabella's mind, heavy and inevitable. Merlin help her, she was going to be grounded until her Hogwarts letter arrived.

"Now," Cassiopeia demanded, her outstretched hands firm and unyielding.

Isabella swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she finally extended her hand. Isaac was doing no better, his wide-eyed panic making him look more guilty by the second. Cassiopeia's lips pressed into a thin line as she leaned forward-

"Really, Mother?" Idan's drawling voice cut through the tension like a well-aimed Finite. "Interrogating them like they're plotting to overthrow the Ministry?"

Cassiopeia's sharp gaze snapped to Idan, who appeared suddenly at Isabella's side, his wand slipping subtly back inside his cloak. She felt the telltale feel of a quick "Scourgify" sending the shimmer of glitter vanishing in an instant, leaving their hands suspiciously clean as Cassiopeia turned back to inspect them.

"They're fine, see?" Idan said, his tone light but his smirk firmly in place. "If they were up to anything, I'd be the first to know."

Cassiopeia's eyes darted between her oldest son and the trio, as her expression hard and unreadable. Finally, with a sigh that sounded more weary than angry, Cassiopeia straightened. "I'll deal with you later," she said crisply, her tone still frosty as she swept back to her seat.

The three stood frozen for a beat, Hugo daring to breathe first as Cassiopeia turned her back. As he did. Isabella suddenly remembered let loose a breath she hadn't even realised she had been holding.

"That," Hugo said, his hazel eyes wide with admiration as he looked at Idan, "was absolutely brilliant. You're a legend."

Idan's smirk deepened as he folded his arms. "Don't get used to it," he replied. "You're on your own next time. And Salazar help me, I'm sure there'll be a next time."

At that, the tension ebbed and Hugo leaned toward Isabella and Isaac, his grin wickedly intact. "You lot are trouble," he whispered, his voice tinged with delight. "I think I like you."

Isaac snickered at Hugo's comment, brushing imaginary glitter off his robes with exaggerated flourishes. "Takes one to know one," he quipped.

"Maybe," Hugo replied, his cheeky grin still firmly in place. "But I'm not the type to run from a bit of trouble."

Isabella couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You'll get caught eventually," she said, as if dismissing his antics.

"Probably," Hugo shot back with a shrug, "but at least I'll have a good story to tell."

Isaac let out a delighted snort of laughter. "You're funny. I like him, Bells. Can we keep him?"

"Keep me?" Hugo laughed, puffing himself up theatrically. "I'm not a stray Crup, you know."

Idan, watching the exchange with amused detachment, clapped Hugo on the shoulder. "You'll fit right in," he said before glancing at Isaac and Isabella. "I'll leave you three troublemakers to it. Don't make me regret covering for you earlier." With that, he stepped away, rejoining his own friend.

Isabella turned back to Hugo, who was now leaning against the railing, gazing out at the bustling scenes below. "So," she asked, not wanting to leave him quite yet. "How'd you manage to sneak into the Top Box anyway? Don't tell me you glitter-bombed your way in."

Hugo tipped his gaze down to her. "Nah, my dad owns Comet. They sponsor some of the teams. We got invited." He glanced over his shoulder toward the far end of the box, where a jovial-looking man with wild hair, just like Hugo's, was chatting animatedly with a couple of officials. Beside him sat a plump, rosy-cheeked woman with a warm smile, fussing over a little boy who looked just a little younger than Draco. "That's them over there. Rufus and Edwina Horton. And the little one is Toby."

"You've got a brother?" Isaac asked, leaning closer.

"Yup," Hugo said, his tone good-natured. "He's a menace. Thinks he's the next big Quidditch star, but he can't even sit on a practice broom yet without falling off."

"That sounds like Isaac," Isabella muttered with a smirk, earning a glare from her brother.

Before Hugo could reply, Draco sidled closer, his toy broom tucked under his arm. "Are you lot just going to talk through the match?" he asked, his tone filled with impatience. "It's starting soon."

"Finally," Isaac said, perking up. "I bet America's gunna thrash them!"

"France has better tactics," Draco retorted. "They've got Lemoine as Seeker. My father says he's the best in the world."

"And my father says America has the best broom designs," Hugo countered, his voice rising with excitement. "Have you seen the Thunderstrikes they're flying? Nothing beats that."

Before anyone could argue further, a booming voice echoed across the pitch, silencing the chatter in the box. "Attention, witches and wizards! Please take your seats! The 420th Quidditch World Cup is about to begin!"

The Top Box shifted as people hurried to find their spots. Isaac hurried back to his space in the front row, Draco hot on his heels.

"Come on," Hugo urged, nudging her with his elbow. "Let's get good seats before they take all the fun ones."

Isabella hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder to where her parents sat engaged in polite conversation with the Malfoys and a few other dignitaries. Idan caught her eye, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Go on, then .

She nodded back to him and followed Hugo and the others to their chosen spots. Draco was already perched on the edge of his seat, clutching his toy broom tightly, while Isaac leaned over the railing, craning his neck to get a better view of the pitch. Isabella slid into a seat beside Hugo, who immediately propped his elbows on the railing, his face alight with excitement.

"This is going to be brilliant," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Isabella, too, couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest.

Below, the pitch buzzed with activity as officials prepared for the match and the vibrant energy of the crowd seemed to ripple through the stadium like an electric current.

"Do you think they'll bring out the mascots first?" Isaac asked, bouncing slightly.

"Of course they will," Draco replied, his tone carrying the authority of someone who knew everything there was to know about Quidditch. "The mascots always perform before the teams come out."

"And then the real fun begins," Hugo added, his grin never fading as he leaned forward, ready to soak in every moment.

.

The lights dimmed across the stadium, plunging it into near darkness save for the faint flicker of thousands of lanterns held by spectators. A hush fell over the crowd, the kind of anticipatory silence that made Isabella's heart flutter.

"And now," the commentator's voice echoed, brimming with excitement, "France's mascots, the Golden Imps!"

The pitch was momentarily empty, the darkness so complete that it seemed to stretch forever. Then, with a soft chime, a single golden figure appeared- a tiny imp, glowing like molten gold. It stood no taller than a house-elf.

"It's so little!" Isaac whispered, leaning forward to see it better. Isabella craned her head over the railings, also hoping for a better view.

The imp raised its tiny hands, and a burst of light erupted from its fingers. Suddenly, more imps appeared spread throughout the pitch, each one glowing with the same golden brilliance. They tumbled and twirled across the field to join one another, their movements synchronized and impossibly graceful.

The imps began to leap into the air, one by one, forming a spinning, shimmering spiral that rose high above the pitch. Each imp somersaulted mid-leap, leaving behind trails of glittering gold. The audience gasped as the spiral began to twist and morph, transforming into a glowing carousel with the imps riding imaginary horses made of light.

"Whoa," Hugo whispered, his hazel eyes wide with wonder. "Okay, that's actually impressive."

Draco crossed his arms, clearly trying to maintain an air of indifference, but his gaze was locked on the display. "They're just showing off."

"And they're brilliant at it," Isabella replied, unable to tear her eyes away.

The carousel disassembled in a burst of golden sparks, and the imps scattered across the field. They regrouped in pairs, forming a dazzling acrobatic routine. Each pair leapt and flipped, soaring higher with each pass, their tiny hands clasping mid-air before they pirouetted back to the ground in perfect synchrony.

Then came the finale. The imps climbed atop one another, building a glowing pyramid that shimmered like sunlight on water. At the peak, the smallest imp of all balanced on one leg, holding its hands high above its head. Golden sparks shot into the air, forming an intricate fleur-de-lis that sparkled brightly before transforming into the French flag.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the sound rolling like a wave across the stadium, Isaac clapping, perhaps, the most furiously.

.

As the crowd settled back into their seats, the announcer's voice echoed once more:
"And now, please give a roaring welcome to the mascots of the United States- the legendary Thunderbirds!"

From the far end of the pitch, a deep rumble began to reverberate, growing louder with each passing moment. The air seemed to crackle, charged with static. Suddenly, a streak of lightning arced across the sky, illuminating the pitch in brilliant white light. Out of the blinding flash emerged a magnificent Thunderbird, its vast wings shimmering with iridescent feathers that seemed to capture the very essence of the storm.

The crowd gasped as the Thunderbird was joined by another, then another, until six of the majestic creatures were circling the pitch. Their wings trailed streaks of lightning, and each flap sent a powerful gust of wind rippling through the stands. Isabella clutched her curls, hoping they wouldn't be too dreadfully windswept, although a sideway look at Isaac's hair did not give her much hope. The birds performed a synchronized aerial dance, twisting and diving with breathtaking precision.

"They're enormous!" Isaac exclaimed, standing on tiptoe to get a better view.

"They're incredible," Isabella breathed, clutching the railing with one hand and her flyaway hair with the other.

Draco, who had been quietly studying the Imps moments before, was now twisting his neck towards the birds, his face filled with wonder. "I've seen Thunderbirds before," he said with a somewhat reverent tone, "but never like this."

The Thunderbirds began a spiraling ascent, forming a vortex of shimmering feathers and electric light. At the peak of their flight, they released a thunderous cry, and bolts of lightning shot across the sky, forming the letters "U-S-A." and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

.

The players soared onto the pitch, their robes flaring as they took their positions. The French team glided with an air of elegance, their blue and white uniforms glinting in the sunlight. The American team, in bold red, white, and blue, radiated an energy that matched the electric display of their mascots.

"And here are your lineups!" the commentator's voice boomed. "For the United States: Captain and Chaser Daniel Hawthorne, alongside Chasers Abigail Sinclair and Ezra O'Connor! Beaters Marcus "Mad Dog" Miller and Cameron Tate, Keeper Victor Hernandez, and Seeker Elijah Blake!"

The American supporters roared as each name was called, waving flags and raising banners of support above their heads.

"And representing France: Captain and Seeker Sylvain Lemoine! Chasers Lucie Fournier, Pierre Delacroix, and Monique LaRue! Beaters Thierry Dupont and Armand Gagne, and Keeper Claude Bellamy!"

The French supporters erupted into cheers, the Imps performing a final acrobatic flip in midair before vanishing with a burst of golden light.

The referee stepped forward, the Quaffle clutched under her arm. With a sharp blow of her whistle, the game began.

.

The French team claimed the Quaffle immediately, their Chasers executing a series of sharp passes that left the Americans scrambling. Lucie Fournier sped toward the American Keeper, her robes a blur as she faked left and shot right. The Quaffle soared toward the hoop but was deflected at the last moment by Victor Hernandez, who performed a spectacular dive to save the goal.

"That was close!" Isaac shouted, gripping the edge of his seat.

Hugo punched the air. "That's Hernandez for you! Best Keeper in the league."

The Americans countered with equal ferocity, Abigail Sinclair darting through the French defense with impressive speed. She feinted past Pierre Delacroix and hurled the Quaffle through the left hoop. The crowd erupted as the scoreboard lit up: United States 10 - France 0.

"Yes!" Hugo cheered, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the stadium. Draco joined in, clapping excitedly.

Isabella could only grin, so swept up by the excitement.

The Bludgers were relentless. Marcus Miller sent one hurtling toward Monique LaRue, who narrowly avoided it by rolling upside down on her broom. The crowd gasped as the Bludger careened towards the stands, the supporters having to throw themselves down to avoid being hit.

"That was close," Isabella gasped, eyes wide.

"I thought you liked a little danger," Hugo teased, with a little elbow in her ribs.

Isabella huffed but didn't respond, her attention was already back on the game.

The French Beaters retaliated with equal ferocity, Armand Gagne targeting Ezra O'Connor with a perfectly aimed Bludger. Ezra twisted away, but the Quaffle slipped from his grip and was snatched by Pierre Delacroix.

"He's fast," Isaac said, watching as Pierre streaked toward the goal.

"Not fast enough," Hugo countered, pointing as Victor Hernandez intercepted the shot with a daring dive.

The game continued at a furious pace. Goals were scored and blocked, the Quaffle changing hands so quickly it was almost impossible to follow. The crowd's energy was infectious, and even Draco was yelling his encouragement alongside Hugo, Isabella and Isaac.

.

Half an hour into the game, the Snitch made its first appearance, a glimmer of gold darting near the French goalposts. Both Seekers spotted it simultaneously and dove after it, their brooms slicing through the air.

"Come on, Blake!" Hugo shouted, standing up in his seat.

Elijah Blake reached out, his fingers grazing the Snitch, but Sylvain Lemoine executed a sharp turn, cutting him off. The French supporters erupted as the Snitch disappeared from sight.

"They're evenly matched," Isabella observed, her heart pounding.

Hugo nodded, but his grin was unshaken. "Blake's got this."

.

The match surged on, and the roar of the crowd seemed to vibrate through their bones, binding them to the rhythm of the game. Hugo leaned forward, perched on the edge of his seat, his hands clutching the railing as he whooped at a particularly daring maneuver by the American Chaser.

"You see that?" he said, twisting toward the others, his face alight with glee. "They're playing them like a fiddle!"

Draco, seated next to Isaac, straightened with an air of reluctant approval. "Alright, Horton," he said with a little pout. "Your team's not that bad... I guess."

Hugo just laughed in response, loud and full of joy. "High praise coming from a Malfoy," he quipped, his voice carrying just enough teasing to make Draco's lips twitch, as if he wasn't sure whether to smile or scowl.

Isabella watched the exchange, her fingers curling lightly around the smooth wood of the railing and the commentator's voice boomed over the noise, announcing a strategic shift by the French team. Isabella's gaze drifted for a moment and she turned back, her eyes landing on her parents seated further back in the Top Box. Idan sat next to Damien Montague, neither talking, both engrossed in the match. Cassiopeia's sharp grey eyes briefly darted toward her, appraising and watchful, but softened as they locked onto Isabella. Her mother's lips curved ever so slightly in approval before her attention returned to the adults.

Isabella glanced back at the field just as a French Beater deflected a Bludger with a resounding crack. The excitement swelled again, and she gripped the railing tighter, a thrill rushing through her. The world around her seemed to blur and sharpen all at once. The roar of the crowd, the bright, streaking players, and the laughter from her little brother sat beside her.

.

In the end, the match was coming onto its second hour and the players were pushing themselves to their limits. With the score tied at 90-90, the Snitch appeared once more, flitting near the center of the pitch. Both Seekers dove, their brooms nearly colliding as they raced after the golden ball.

"Come on, Blake!" Hugo shouted, his voice hoarse.

The crowd leaned forward almost as one, as Elijah Blake stretched out his hand. At the last moment, he twisted his broom, narrowly avoiding a collision with Sylvain Lemoine, and seized the Snitch.

"The United States wins!" the commentator roared. "Final score: 240-90!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound echoing across the pitch. Hugo leaped to his feet, whooping with joy. Isaac joined him, his face a picture of excitement. Even Draco was cheering, his support for France all but forgotten.

.

The final cheers of the crowd still echoed in Isabella's ears as the match officially ended. The U.S. team was doing a celebratory lap around the pitch, their red, white, and blue robes gleaming under the stadium lights. Isaac was bouncing on his toes, re-enacting Elijah Blake's daring dive for the Snitch, while little Draco attempted to correct his technique with a smug air of authority.

"Think they'll be talking about this for weeks?" Hugo asked, grinning as he leaned against the railing beside Isabella.

"Isaac will," Isabella replied with a small smile. "I'm sure he'll tell anyone who'll listen."

Hugo turned abruptly and waved toward the far end of the Top Box. "Oi! Mum, Dad! Over here!"

The man with the wild hair was the first to approach, followed by the warm-faced woman holding the hand of the younger boy who was clutching a tiny toy Quaffle. The man's broad smile widened as he saw Hugo.

"So, this is where you disappeared to," Rufus Horton said, his voice rich and friendly. "Making new friends, I see?"

Hugo beamed. "This is Isabella Griffin," he said, gesturing toward her. "And that's her brother Isaac. They're great fun! Helped me pull off the best glitter bomb this side of the channel."

"Yes, we might have noticed that." Edwina Horton replied, her tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Don't worry, Mum, no harm done," Hugo said quickly, his grin never wavering. "Promise."

Isabella flushed, suddenly aware of her own mother and father stepping closer. Cassiopeia's gaze sweeping over the Hortons with a more curious expression than usual. Elroy offered a warm smile and extended a hand.

"Elroy Griffin," he said. "And my wife, Cassiopeia. A pleasure to meet you."

"Rufus Horton," the man replied, shaking Elroy's hand firmly. "My wife, Edwina, and this little rascal here is Toby."

Isabella found herself feeling a little bit nervous as she watched the exchange. She hoped her parents approved of Hugo and his family. She cast an eye on Hugo, he did not seem to be sharing her nerves.

"Horton," Elroy looked thoughtful. "Not Horton of the Horton-Keitch Braking Charm? The Comet Company, Horton?"

"One and the same!" Rufus answered with a broad grin. "Though I can't take all the credit. My grandfather was the genius behind the charm, Keitch handled the prototypes, but we've been working to keep the family legacy alive ever since."

"An impressive legacy," Elroy said with genuine admiration. "The Horton-Keitch Braking Charm revolutionized broom safety. I believe my father swore by the Comet 180 in his day."

"A fine broom," Rufus said, beaming. "We've made some leaps since then, of course. The Thunderstrike line has been our proudest achievement to date. Fast, sleek, and reliable."

"Father," Isaac interjected eagerly, "do you think we could get one?"

"Maybe one day," Elroy said with a faint smile, "but you'll have to earn it first."

Rufus chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Isaac. "Well, when the time comes, I'll make sure you get a special deal. Nothing like your first proper broom."

Edwina leaned in with a warm smile. "Of course, you'd have to promise to keep it on the ground until you've mastered the basics. Right, Toby?"

The little boy nodded solemnly, clutching his toy Quaffle. "I'm going to be a Chaser," he declared, puffing out his chest.

"I'm going to be a seeker." Draco cut in to answer, puffing his own chest out too.

"It's rare to meet a family with such a rich contribution to the wizarding world." Cassiopeia finally spoke. Isabella and Isaac shared a small look of relief. Elroy was only a warm up act, impressing Cassiopeia deserved nothing short of a medal. "The Horton-Keitch Braking Charm has saved countless lives, and made broom travel far more dignified."

Rufus gave a modest shrug. "We do our best. And it's always nice to see our work appreciated."

"It really is lovely to meet you all," Edwina said, glancing fondly at her oldest son. "Hugo was just telling us about the new friends he's made today."

"Really?" Cassiopeia said, her tone softer than usual, though her sharp grey eyes lingered on Hugo for a moment. "He seems... quite energetic."

"Oh, trouble's Hugo's middle name," Rufus said with a laugh. "But he means well. Don't let him fool you."

Hugo looked completely unashamed. "I do better than just mean well. I make things interesting."

Isabella could have groaned at that answer, she was starting to doubt her mother would ever let her be friends with this boy. But to Isabella's surprise, Cassiopeia's lips curved upwards. "Interesting, indeed. And how old are you, Hugo?"

"I'm nine, Mrs Griffin," Hugo said brightly.

"Polite," Cassiopeia remarked to Elroy, her tone carrying a note of approval. She looked back at Hugo. "And your parents? Are they always this patient with you?"

Hugo grinned cheekily. "I'm their favourite. Aren't I, Mum?"

Edwina laughed. "You're someone's favourite something, all right."

Idan joined the group at that moment, a knowing look on his face. "What's this about a glitter bomb?" he asked, aiming a light punch to Isaac's shoulder as he passed.

"Oh, nothing," Hugo replied innocently, shooting a wink at Isabella. "Just a bit of harmless fun."

"Elroy," Rufus said, turning back to the elder Griffin, "if you're ever in Falmouth, do let us know. We'd love to have you over. It's not often you meet such lively company."

"That's kind of you," Elroy said, glancing at Cassiopeia, who gave a small nod of approval. "We'll exchange addresses before we leave. We are just nearby Tinworth ourselves"

"Brilliant!" Hugo said, his hazel eyes lighting up. "We are practically neighbors. That means we can owl each other, Isabella. Maybe I'll even teach Isaac my glitter bomb tricks."

"Absolutely not," Cassiopeia said, though her tone was more amused than stern. "But I do think it would be nice for you to write, Isabella."

Isabella blinked in surprise but nodded quickly. "Of course, Mother."

Hugo shot her a triumphant grin. "See? We're friends already."

Isabella felt her stomach do a swoop at that.

Isaac tugged on Hugo's sleeve. "And you'll teach me something else, right? Something cooler?"

"Sure thing," Hugo said with a laugh. "Just don't blow anything up without me."

The Hortons and Griffins lingered for a moment longer, the energy of the match still humming between them but then Rufus clapped Elroy on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "Well, I'd say we've kept you long enough. My wife and I have a few faces to shake hands with before the evening's out... Always something with a Cup this big."

"Of course," Elroy replied with a nod, his expression warm. "It's been a pleasure, Rufus, Edwina. And Hugo, you've made quite the impression. We'll be looking forward to that owl."

"And we'll be keeping an eye out for it, too," Rufus replied, shooting Hugo a knowing look. "This one might have to practice his handwriting, though. Don't want to scare them off with those scrawls of yours, son."

Hugo rolled his eyes. "I'll send a proper one, promise." He glanced at Isabella. "And you'd better reply."

"Of course," Isabella said, her tone feigning nonchalance.

Edwina smiled at Cassiopeia. "Your children are delightful, Cassiopeia. And such good manners. I must say, this has been the most pleasant surprise of the day."

Cassiopeia's lips were still curved in approval. "Likewise, Edwina. And Rufus, you've raised a charming son, clever and spirited, too." Her gaze flickered to Hugo, her tone soft. "I'll expect to hear from you soon, Hugo. Isaac will be disappointed if you don't."

"Right, no pressure," Hugo joked.

Elroy extended his hand again, and Rufus shook it firmly. "Until next time, Griffin."

"Until next time," Elroy echoed.

The Hortons turned to head toward a cluster of dignitaries, Rufus tipping his hat in farewell, Cassiopeia straightened her cloak and turned to her husband. "Well, that was unexpectedly pleasant. Now, let's not keep Cissy and Lucius waiting too long."

The Griffins and Draco made their way back toward the Malfoys, where Narcissa and Lucius were engaged in conversation with Damien Montague.

"There you are," Narcissa said smoothly as the Griffins approached. "We wondered if you'd gotten lost."

"Hardly," Elroy replied with a chuckle. "Just meeting some new faces."

"Connections are everything," Lucius remarked. "I trust it was a fruitful encounter?"

"It was," Cassiopeia replied. "Rufus Horton. You might know him—The Comet Trading Company."

Lucius's brow rose slightly, a glimmer of interest flashing across his face. "Indeed? Horton's quite the figure in the industry. A good contact to have."

Narcissa's gaze flickering between Draco, Isabella and Isaac. "And did you three enjoy the match?"

"Immensely," Cassiopeia answered for them her tone warm but precise. "Though I suspect Isaac would've enjoyed diving onto the pitch just as much."

Isaac gave a sheepish grin but said nothing, choosing instead to lean closer to Idan, who ruffled his hair affectionately. Draco, however, wasted no time, his grey eyes lighting up as he leaned toward his mother. "The Americans were good," he said quickly, "but France was better. Lemoine almost caught the Snitch twice! If Blake hadn't dodged that last Bludger, France would've won for sure."

He paused a moment. "It was the best!" He declared finally, his toy broom clutched tightly in his hands as though ready to reenact the game. "Father, do you think I'll be able to play like that one day?"

Lucius glanced down at his son. "With the right training and discipline, perhaps," he said, his voice measured. "But it requires dedication, Draco. Remember that."

Draco straightened up, his face serious. "I'll practice every day!"

"Perhaps you could show me your highlights of the match later." Narcissa said. "For now, let's say goodbye to our cousins properly, shall we?"

Draco's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, but he nodded. "Alright, Mother," he said with a small sigh, turning back to Isaac and Isabella. "Next time, I'll show you what real Quidditch looks like."

"Well, it has been a splendid day," Cassiopeia said, turning toward Narcissa. "Thank you for hosting us so beautifully, Cissy. The lunch was exquisite, as always."

"It was our pleasure," Narcissa replied, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face. "Do give us a visit before the summer's over. Draco would love to see the children again."

"I'll make sure we do," Cassiopeia promised.

After a round of polite handshakes and a few more parting pleasantries, the Griffins began their journey toward the stadium's exit.

.

The lingering noise of the crowd and the faint glow of the pitch lights followed them as they navigated through the dispersing attendees. Isabella glanced back once, catching sight of Hugo chatting animatedly with his father amidst a group of officials. He caught her looking and shot her a cheeky salute before turning back to his conversation.

"Quite a character, that one," Idan remarked as they began their descent from the stadium. "Hugo, I mean."

Cassiopeia gave a small smile. "Yes. A bit of a handful, but endearing."

Isabella glanced up at the sky, streaked with the faintest hints of dawn. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, she felt like the world had just gotten a little bigger.