"What was that all about?" said Ron as we emerged from the tent.
"None of your business!" snapped Amy "I said it was private for a reason!"
At that moment, a wizard apparated at our fireside. It was Barty Crouch. He was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. It was very obvious why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager.
"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.
"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."
"Oh is that what they're after?" said Ludo. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."
Amy hung her head beside me. I patted her on the back.
"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes — thank you, Weatherby"
Everyone laughed except Dad, Percy, and Mr Crouch. Percy's ears went pink and Amy was instantly cheered up.
"I'm-I'm sorry" I choked out "but what did you just call him?"
"Ginny, you do know who you're talking to right?" said Dad
I didn't really care though, this was too funny not to take the risk.
"Umm, Weatherby?" said Crouch, looking very confused.
"Our name is Weasley, sir" I said, chuckling again.
"Oh" said Crouch. "Never mind then Weatherby- I mean Weasley" he said to Percy, which caused us all to laugh again.
"How long have you been calling him that for then?" asked Fred
"Enough" snapped Crouch angrily, his face reddening, and we all fell silent. We were already pushing our luck, Mr Crouch was a high ranking Ministry official, any further humiliation could get us in trouble.
"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Dad. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."
Dad heaved a deep sigh. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, and that just because they're legal in Egypt, doesn't mean that applies everywhere else, but will he listen?"
"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."
"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Ludo.
"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve — but that was before carpets were banned, of course."
He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.
"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Ludo breezily.
"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."
"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Dad
Ludo looked shocked. "Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun. . . . Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"
Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Ludo. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details —"
"Oh details!" said Ludo, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts —"
"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Ludo's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."
"You still haven't learned" I said, shaking my head as we all laughed again.
Crouch pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; he struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.
"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.
"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"
"You'll find out soon enough," said Dad, smiling.
"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."
"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.
Demelza, Amy and I exchanged smug, knowing glances.
"What is it?" said Ron immediately, you guys know something don't you?"
"No we don't" said Amy
"Yes you do!" Ron replied firmly, "I can tell by the way you 3 just looked at each other, I've seen it too many times to count!"
"Ron, we're just as clueless as you!" said Demelza flatly.
A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.
Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes — green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria — which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.
Amy insisted that Demelza and I both buy Ireland merch along with her, so we did, but I bought a small figure of Victor Krum too, as did Ron. I also bought a figure of Violet O'Flaherty, Harpies beater and one of the Irish substitutes.
And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.
"It's time!" said Dad, looking as excited as any of us. "Come on, let's go!"
"This is it" I said to Demelza and Amy. "We're here, for the Quidditch World Cup final! It's only starting to sink in now!"
"I can barely believe it" said Demelza "it's a dream come true this!"
We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium!
