CHAPTER 9 - Motitus, In D Major (Act 1)
18 August 1994 - Quidditch World Cup Campsite - Dartmoor - Devon, 9:14AM
As far as Thursdays went, Mr. Richard Roberts was having quite a good one.
He'd arisen at 7:00AM as was standard, getting ready to host yet another group of guests for camping season. He was currently seated in his favorite camping chair at the site's entrance, content to sip his tea and gaze at the field with slightly glassy eyes.
As his mind was already addled by the slew of Confundus Charms and modified Obliviations cast days earlier by Number 8 as part of the World Cup preparations, Mr. Roberts wasn't in complete control of his mental faculties as the magic had intended. As such, he was content to ignore the strange intermittent pops that would herald the sudden arrival of people, chatting excitedly about Peru, Luxembourg, Ireland, and Bulgaria, along with something odd called 'quick-ditch'.
Richard hadn't a clue, and really couldn't be bothered to care.
For him, breakfast had been a lovely affair; a statuesque blonde by the name of Francila Samos had prepared a lovely meal of bangers, mash, toasting muffins with blueberry jam, and a strong cup of earl gray. Ms. Samos and her fiancé Bertram Church were visiting her gran who lived about 50 miles away, but they'd ended up stranded when their means of transport failed to work. It'd been a stormy Sunday when they'd shown up at his cottage, all drenched and absolutely hysterical at their joint misfortune.
Though Richard felt pity for Bertram, the true focus of his sympathy was Francila, unable to resist a damsel in distress and especially one as utterly arresting as Ms. Samos.
Being in such close contact with the blonde was enchanting, his muggle mind unable to resist the powerful allure of Miss Direction's alias, a fact which amused Mr. January to no end. So poignant was the effect that Richard hadn't realized that his wife Mary and two sons David and Winston had not been present at breakfast. In fact, the three had been strangely missing for the entire week Francila and Bertram had been his guests, even stranger that Richard had felt neither the marital nor paternal compulsion to find them.
Granted, had Richard possessed the capability to overcome his magically-induced addlement to seek out his family, he would have found nothing more than their cold corpses huddled together in the upstairs bathroom.
Suffucatios had made quick work of the three muggles, delighting January with their collective horror as his magic choked them to death.
He'd stolen all their collective memories before performing the dirty deed, tucking them within an impervious lockbox deep within one of several alcoves of his labyrinthine mind.
Wriggling contentedly, Richard took a long and hearty sip from his thermos as he sunk further into his seat, snuggling into his thick blanket. Placed next to him was a plain rucksack tied with a simple rope.
Naturally it was spelled with a Undetectable Extension Charm, allowing the perfect amount of room for a host of Mr. Toymaker's creations.
Nestled in Richard's lap was one such contraption that the middle-aged man stroked with gentle fingers, thinking it no more than a mundane household item.
Well… as mundane as acid-green rubber ducks could be.
The Smith Tent, 9:51AM
Yvette Dubois - a.k.a the Polyjuiced form of Villanelle Beauchamp - wondered if it she could break her rule about not drinking on the job and start imbibing before lunch, expertly maintaining her bubbly countenance amidst the mind-numbing nattering of her cohorts.
Isolde Fenwick definitely wasn't shy in her booze-hounding as she deftly knocked back her third gin fizz followed by a heavy pull from her cigarette, blowing the richly aromatic smoke into the air as she chatted about the usual vapid nonsense with Ladies Avery and Smith.
Quite frankly, not-Yvette was convinced the woman was a high-functioning alcoholic, amused at the prospect of the older witch developing an immunity to her beloved Sobering Potions.
"I'm just so happy that my Zach gets a chance to enjoy the Cup," tittered Matilda in an overly girlish sing-song tone that utterly grated on La Mouche's nerves. Her spoiled brat of a son had thrown a tantrum earlier at the prospect of missing the semifinals, not possessing enough self-awareness to recognize the wane looks his friends leveled his way.
"Indeed," replied Elspeth in an equally intolerable tone. "My Dorian is practically running the DIMC in lieu of Director Crouch's absence whilst dealing with the international needs for the QWC. Along with that… Weasley boy to run all his errands." She sniffed dismissively as Isolde and Matilda snickered.
Not-Yvette knew enough to realize what a gross overstatement that was; Senior Undersecretary Lester Buckthorn ruled the roost of the DIMC in Crouch's absence, leading all operational functions for the applicable sub-departments. Dorian's role would be to support him, not the other way around.
If anything, Percy Weasley serving as the right-hand of the Director-himself for actual international relations and diplomacy was an infinitely more impressive showing than Dorian's own, but the witch was clever enough to keep that opinion to herself.
"Are Brady and Mimi stopping by?" Matilda asked Elspeth as she helped herself to a kouign-amann.
The older witch shook her head in the negative: "No. Brady is with his girlfriend Celeste Gage and her family, holidaying in Antibes. He did so well in the Dueling Tournament, so it's definitely well-earned!"
Villanelle expertly held back her snort at that falsehood; according to her brother Marceau little Brady had been eliminated in the semifinals, nearly electrocuted to death by the psychotic Tkachenko heir.
"My Mimi is with her friends in the tent for family members of the Irish National Team. One of her Housemates Eimear Quigley is the sister of Star Beater Finbar Quigley, who of course plays for the Ballycastle Bats during the regular season."
'Is she incapable of not name-dropping?!' Villanelle's irritation was carefully hidden under a charmingly acquiescing smile. "That sounds lovely, I hope the mademoiselle has a lovely time."
Elspeth preened in response, tittering behind her cup of tea as she sedately puffed on her own cigarette.
"Will your daughters be joining us madame?" Not-Yvette turned a polite smile to Isolde, busying her hands with a cup of jasmine tea.
"No," she sighed through her third cigarette, though a small genuine smile filled her face at the thought of her children. "Didi and her housemate friends are on a personal field trip to Old Wallachia. Apparently, there are many rare artifacts that are waiting to be found in Corpor Alley, enough to provide inspiration for their upcoming Charms and Ancient Runes' Finals' projects." She paused to take a pull of her cigarette. "Thea is in Paris studying at L'école de Ballet with Madame de Camargo, she's preparing for her Swan Lake debut in the upcoming Yule season. Ceri is with my parents on their annual holiday to Bath, Tristan is with them too."
She finished her cigarette before Vanishing the remnants away, turning to Elspeth:
"Tell me dear… how's Joanne doing?"
Her sister-in-law sighed as she thought about her sister-in-law.
"As well as can be expected given Cory's death, Hecate rest his soul."
Cornelius Fudge's funeral had been a major state affair featuring prominent Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, the Ministry, and other state officials from neighboring countries. He was buried in the prestigious Cottismore Croyne Courtyard in St. Jerome's Cemetery, reserved for politicians, war heroes, and other such illustrious civil servants and/or law enforcement officers of Wizarding Britain. He'd received a posthumous Order of Merlin (1st Class) for his service as Minister and his acts of bravery in the Ministry Breakout of Prewett and Rowle.
Despite the family's grief, their social-climbing inclinations were through the roof at the newfound spotlight. Joseph Fudge - Cornelius' firstborn son - was nursing increasing aspirations to make a bid for Noble status in the Wizengamot, hoping to elevate House Fudge's Common status.
"The children will be staying with her for a while, so at least she'll have the rest of the family with her. I've been by several times of course, so Joanne will have all the support she needs." Elspeth sighed dramatically as she refreshed her champagne.
A slightly somber moment of silence fell over their group, though La Mouche was pleased for the peace as she delicately chewed a pain aux raisins.
"Well this one here is such a dear!" sounded Lady Smith's grating voice in an attempt to lift the mood. "None of this (she gestured around the tent) would have happened without her diligence as my personal secretary!" Matilda clapped giddily before patting Villanelle's folded hands like one would a treasured pet, though the Chevalier did a fantastic job of repressing her agitation and smiling demurely as she allowed a faint blush spread across her cheeks.
"Merci beaucoup Madame," Villanelle replied demurely, fluttering her lashes just so. "I am just pleased to be working, since…well…" she grimaced convincingly, eliciting matching looks of sympathy amidst the gathered ladies. Allowing her expression to grow slightly worried, the Chevalier asked: "Do you… do you think Prewett has truly gone away for good? Rowle too? Do you imagine there are others…" Villanelle trailed off on a shudder, though she watched the faces of the other women to gauge their reactions.
Lady Smith winced as she quickly looked away, reaching for a glass of champagne she quickly gulped down.
'No surprise there.'
Based on the intel La Mouche had painstakingly acquired, the Smiths were definitely believers in the Dark Lord's pureblood supremacist agenda. The Chevalier and her superiors strongly suspected that they had been financial contributors to You-Know-Who's previous campaign, though they had yet to acquire proof. While her recon of Lord Smith's office in her coffin-fly form had revealed a hidden vault more than likely filled with all sorts of goodies, La Mouche hadn't bothered to push her luck.
Villanelle had yet to be able to confirm if either of them were Marked, though for their sakes she certainly hoped they weren't.
A look of poignant horror crossed Lady Avery's face, rendering her pale visage even whiter.
As for Madame Fenwick…
The witch visibly flinched as she lit another cigarette, knocking back a gin fizz so fast she may as well have Vanished it.
'Well, well, well…' mused Villanelle snidely.
Le Garde-Chiourme had his suspicions that the Averys were supplying ward-breakers for the Death Eaters during their raids, but he'd been unable to get any proof. He was also convinced that they were Marked, though he had no proof of that either. The British Unspeakables had been evasive at best, and their Ministry had been outright uncooperative when the Dark Lord's raids started making international headlines. Towards the end of the war Le Garde-Chiourme made moves for Le Drôledetête to target and infiltrate the Death Eater cell of Mr. Tyrfing, made possible by months of painstaking covert surveillance courtesy of Le Moustique, Le Guêpe, and the deceased La Phalène - killed in action.
However, the vanquishment of the Dark Lord by Jim Potter on that fateful 31 October 1981 halted those plans indefinitely.
The Chevalier tailed the woman on a few different occasions, especially when she met up with her brother. Daimon Lord Avery was as oily as they come, with a keenly aggravating sense of superiority only a poncy pureblood could possess. She'd tailed him whilst he cavorted about with Lords Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle on a few separate occasions at Summerisles.
La Mouche did find it amusing that those rendezvous had ceased post the aforementioned three's utterly humiliating sanctioning in the Wizengamot by the elder Malfoy.
However, none of those public meetings with his suspected comrades-at-arms suggested anything nefarious, though to her surprise Daimon was an even heavier smoker than his sister.
Their brother Hugo was immensely awkward, though La Mouche wasn't certain if it was a consequence of extreme social ineptitude or a most cunning cover for a homicidal Death Eater. The witch was certain it was the latter, as he was infinitely more aware than he ever let on around his siblings. Villanelle had been forced to abandon her tail a few times so as to not get caught by the man.
Hugo worked for the Avery family's private company, whose flagship office was headquartered in the poshest part of Hogsmeade. He also occasionally consulted for the Department of Magical Artifacts, holding three Masteries in Ancient Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration since his graduation from Beauxbatons.
There'd also been a brief stint at Le Bureau Des Objets Magiques within the French Ministry of Magic, a cause of major concern as it'd been the erstwhile Office run by the deceased Linnea Lady Wilkes aka Miss Toymaker. While she had no proof of his potential Death Eater schemes or collaborations with the twisted Toymakers, the Chevalier made sure to spare no detail of her reconnaissance with her superior.
Glancing back towards a visibly less harangued Isolde, not-Yvette took the lead to change the topic back to the upcoming opera season for high society, comfortably retreating behind her shields to get through the next hour of mind-numbing jabbering.
'...Maybe I ought to loosen up a bit on the 'no drinking while at work' policy.'
The M.Y.L.P. Tent (Four Over and Two Across from the Smiths), 10:35AM
Tucked into a small side table, a tired Cho Chang quietly picked at her crumpets, making more of a mess than she typically would but not finding enough strength to care.
She was in no mood for food, and even less so for Quidditch. The former-Prefect was still smarting over the loss of her position as a consequence for her failed plot in expelling the Outcast.
Cho's teeth ground hard as Theo No-Name's face flashed in her mind's eye, her anger completely devoid of any compulsion of the erstwhile Sanction.
Her parents were still furious with her, making no qualms of hiding their displeasure with their only daughter. On instinct the Ravenclaw's eyes connected with her mother's from across the room, who frowned before resuming her conversation with Charity Burbage. Xīn yán 'Zizi' Chang had been absolutely furious when her daughter's schemes had been revealed, glaring a hole through Cho's head as Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick recounted the Ravenclaw's sins against Theo No-Name.
Her daughter's embarrassment at the loss of her Prefect position was nothing compared to the absolute shame of the dressing down she'd received from her mother in front of her peers and her teachers. In that humiliating moment Cho yearned for her father's more subdued disappointment, as the Ravenclaw alumnus was less inclined to publicly chasten his daughter's shortcomings.
Though it'd been almost two decades since her graduation, Zizi never lost her Gryffindor fire.
'I'm lucky she didn't convince Roger to kick me off the Quidditch team.'
Shaking off her tumultuous thoughts, Cho allowed her forlorn gaze to roam her surroundings.
The Magical Youth Liaison Program's tent was massive, a bit larger than that of Hogwarts' Great Hall and featuring the Program's insignia as well as color references to all four Hogwarts Houses. Buffet tables catered by Molly Weasley's business spanned the western and eastern walls, with plenty of seating accommodations throughout the space. Lord Gaunt's program provided tickets for current grantees, their families, alumni, or any other resident of Wizarding Britain who wished to see the Cup but couldn't afford the 8-galleon fee. It served as a major networking event for both beneficiaries and non-beneficiaries alike, fostering goodwill between young magicals regardless of blood-status as well as further entrenching the reputation of Lord Gaunt's charity.
The sole caveat for entry was registering one's wand signature in the attendance book, manned intermittently by past beneficiaries Ellessa Gatsby and Ellis McMann. Any child under the age of 11 (and thus lacking a wand), was required to have a chaperone who did have a wand to be granted entry.
The tent was teeming with activity, and as with these things, there were a handful of celebrities present.
Many members of the English National Quidditch Team mingled and schmoozed about. They'd been eliminated in the quarterfinals by Peru in a rather grueling match, with Chasers Keaton Flitney and Edric Vosper still recovering in St. Mungo's after being Blatched by Lorena Huamani and Xiomara Quispe, sending the pair hurtling into the ground at breakneck speeds and placing their opponents at a major disadvantage at the loss of two of their best players.
'At least Wood is enjoying himself.'
The Ravenclaw snorted at the sight of the recent Gryffindor graduate, who was practically vibrating with excitement as he eagerly chatted with Mervyn Fenwick - Keeper for the English National Team and full-time Keeper for the Tutshill Tornados.
Seated on a divan towards the tent's center, the two players eagerly chatted about the upcoming season between bottles of chilled Butterbeer, a rather exciting time in line with Wood's recent signing as a Reserve Keeper for the Montrose Magpies. Current Keeper Elton Bickle was slated for retirement after the upcoming season, with Oliver serving as his replacement upon completion of his last game.
Cho paused, eyes slightly widening upon seeing Cedric and his parents arrive. Lord Diggory looked as excitable as ever, immediately breaking off from his wife and son to start schmoozing with Lady Gaunt and her coterie. Baby Athanasia was held snugly in her cousin Yahya's arms, gurgling excitedly at the silly faces Heir Kolumbiko pulled for her amusement. Mab hovered by, far enough to give her family enough space and privacy, but close enough to intervene if the situation called for it.
Libra was taking the 'morning shift', allowing her husband to cover important work-related matters. Lord Gaunt would arrive by mid-afternoon so his wife and daughter could return home for the remainder of the day.
'Glad to see he could make it,' thought Cho snidely as she gazed at Cedric chatting quietly with his mother, his affection readily obvious as the woman fussed over him. He looked considerably better than usual; the dark smudges under his eyes mere circles and the sickly pallor of his skin was replaced with its more usual healthy pink. Most of the letters she'd shared with him had gone unanswered, save a few clipped 1-2 sentence responses he'd provide so she would back off.
They hadn't properly spoken since their final confrontation at Hogwarts; upset at being continuously ignored, Cho had cornered him in an abandoned classroom and tried to get him to see reason, but Cedric had been unmoved. He was still furious at her attempt to expel the Slytherin No-Name, using him and his well-earned reputation to do it. A lot of angry shouting regarding trust and boundaries followed, and just like before, nothing good was accomplished.
In his rush to leave before he truly lost his temper Cedric accidentally spilt the contents of his knapsack, revealing books about advanced Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Animagery.
It'd finally clicked for the Ravenclaw why the Hufflepuff always looked so exhausted; Animagery study was grueling work, and the known necessary meditations and potions regiment to achieve one's form aligned with the lunar cycle. It made sense why Heir Diggory looked so peaky close to the full moon and immediately after. It also made sense that his countenance was much more improved; based on her calculations, he ought to be past the Revelation Meditation and making strides towards the Transformation Ceremony, leaving behind the long, sleepless nights.
As for the other books, she figured he was doubling down on his studies to achieve his dream of being a Magical Curator, especially now that his family had the backing of a powerful Ancient and Noble House. In order to do so, the Hufflepuff would have to acquire NEWT scores of at least 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Masteries in any one of those subjects wouldn't hurt either, especially if he wanted to qualify for international expeditions or run the Department in the future.
Still her curiosity had angered Diggory even more, and he'd angrily gathered his things before storming out while ignoring her tearful pleas.
While they weren't officially broken up (Cedric hadn't the heart to say the words and she hadn't the heart to accept if he had), they were absolutely on a break.
Cedric suddenly stiffened before his eyes flashed over to hers, their ambery sheen visible from the distance. The Hufflepuff stared unblinkingly for a few moments, his gaze uncharacteristically intense.
An awkward beat passed before he walked off, once more leaving Cho a little more hopeless than before.
The B.M.W. Tent (Five Over and One Across from M.Y.L.P.), 11:09AM
Sighing indulgently, Amy Wilkes stretched her form on the chintzy chaise in the Black-Malfoy-Wilkes tent, helping herself to another rosemary-lamb patsy from the teeming tray on the adjacent coffee table.
She registered Saffron Brown and Noel Cragg's matching giggles, prompting her to snort out a laugh. She and her best friends were sitting together, chatting about the upcoming school yer and just generally lounging about in the spacious tent. It was about thrice the size of the Gryffindor Common Room, though decorated in Slytherin-shades of green and ivory with minute splashes of Lion-red.
Lord Malfoy - as elegantly at ease as one could look - sat with Lords Parkinson and Greengrass at a cozy side table some feet away from Amy and her friends. A half-empty pitcher of Kir sat between the three as they chatted and played cards, though whatever they spoke off couldn't be heard behind their privacy charms.
Some feet across at their own table were the trio of Lord Black, Seneschal Wilkes, and Lady Greengrass, working their way through some Butterbeers and mini custard tarts as they played a muggle game called Jenga. Lord Black looked particularly focused on the wooden block tower, eyes squinted in concentration as Lily shamelessly tried to distract him and Winifred giggled amusedly at her attempts.
Heir Greengrass sat sentry with Tracey and Greg a few feet over, refereeing the latter two as they played a spirited game of Wizard's Chess. Well, spirited in the sense that her best friend was soundly kicking her opponent's ass as he spent more time shyly blushing at the blonde than concentrating on the game.
The youngest Greengrass sat comfortably between Theo and Justin on one of two large chesterfields that dominated the tent's center, cheerfully bantering about the upcoming Finals Game between Ireland and Bulgaria and how the latter were sure to win the match. Sat across the trio were Anthony, Harry, and Draco, eagerly arguing the same for Ireland. Several empty bottles of Butterbeer surrounded their group, along trays of half-eaten pasties and pastries courtesy of Ophelia.
Blaise Zabini was conspicuously missing, citing some "urgent family business" that required the presence of him and his mother in Naples.
The needs of La Camorra took precedence above all.
Another conspicuous non-attendee was Severus Snape, citing the need to supervise his Potions Apprentices at the Prince Institute in Central Hogsmeade. Though in all honesty, Lord Prince couldn't be bothered at all with Quidditch if Slytherin House wasn't playing.
"Is your Auntie going to be joining us?" asked Noel around a bite of deviled egg, interrupting the youngest Wilkes from her musing.
Amy shook her head in the negative. "She's at home, relaxing. To be quite honest she's not much of a Quidditch fan, she only came during the quarterfinals to support England. She really prefers to enjoy the peace and quiet."
And by Nimue, had it been a well-earned peace and quiet.
Greg Sr.'s humiliating censure in the previous Wizengamot session and subsequent demotion as Lord of his own House meant things were quite different in the Goyle household. True to his word, Lord Malfoy arrived at the estate two days later and facilitated the transfer of the wards and the house elves over to Greg Jr. and thus solidifying the Slytherin's new role as Lord. His first act had been to select his mother as Regent, as she was the only adult Goyle he trusted.
For the first time in a long time, Hecuba exercised a semblance of control and autonomy over her life, and for that she was immensely grateful. She could stand up to her husband and protect her children with the full backing of her liege.
At the current moment, Senior was licking his wounds at the Goyle Lodge, the family's hunting retreat situated in the outskirts of Berkshire.
Amy hoped the wretched louse remained there indefinitely.
Almost an hour of relaxed merriment and passed before a voice sounded out:
"Look who I found!"
They all turned at the sound of Ginny Weasley, arm-in-arm with the beaming pair of Eurus and Luna.
"HARRY!" cried the blonde happily, breaking free from the redhead and racing over to the boy who stood ready to catch her. She crashed into him with a squeal, which turned to full blown laughter as he twirled her in the air. Lily and Sirius exchanged amused glances, though Winnie watched the exchange with a keener eye than one would expect. Daphne and Astoria also looked on curiously, though Saffron frowned at the exchange as she angrily bit into her danish, earning a look of mild amusement from Noel though Amy hadn't noticed.
"Oh I missed you so much!" said Luna happily, staring slightly above Harry's head with a serene smile. His nargles - resembling four-eyed occamy-like beings - glid sedately in their usual ouroboros formation, signaling his contentment.
Prince Potter smiled warmly. "I missed you more Lu!"
The Ethergazer beamed, moving to hug the rest of her friends as a laughing Eurus took her turn to be spun around by Harry, who paused to admire the miniaturized bright rainbow-colored Umbrella flowers artfully pinned into her thickly coiled hair.
Greetings were exchanged around the room before the two Slytherins settled themselves next to their friends.
Well, Eurus settled next to Theo whilst Luna, with some maneuvering and slight adjusting of the snack table, sprawled herself on the rug with a decadent sigh, pale blonde hair forming a halo as her friends looked on with varying degrees of fond amusement.
"So, how was your summer? The mountains of Tibet and Nepal as thrilling as expected?"
"Oh Harry, it was amazing!" And with that, Eurus launched into an exciting recollection of her and Luna's backpacking trip with her mother and the blonde's father respectively.
As the Associate Director of Division of High Magical Beings within Al Ghayb, Seraphina Kolumbiko possessed special clearances for 'Exploratory Excursions' to expand her Department's lexicon on 'high magical beings', sentient and powerful creatures that their British counterparts labeled as Class XXX, XXXX, and XXXXX. Finding a kindred spirit in her daughter's best friend's dad and his love for all sorts of strange creatures, Lady Kolumbiko extended an invitation to Xeno and his daughter.
Naturally, he readily accepted.
"We trekked all the way up the mountains, we had to use modified Duros and Impervius on our snowshoes and cloaks so we wouldn't drown under all the snow. Broom travel is prohibited in that area, so we had to go by foot." Eurus reached for a mini tart to nibble on whilst she continued her story to her enraptured audience. "It's technically not supposed to be snowing with it being summer and all, but according to my Ommi the ICW and the Nepalese government have a Special Task Force that lives in the mountains under a bunch of specialized warding charms to keep the muggles away. They make sure it snows all year long in that region, so the muggles don't get suspicious."
"Well, any more suspicious," supplied Luna airily.
Eurus giggled. "Right. Anywho, we set up shop once we reached, according to Xeno, a 'most-advantageous bluff', which was the literal edge of a mountainside cliff. Thank Circe for Stabilizing Charms for our tent else I imagine the wind would've made short work of us. We were there for almost ten days and took turns exploring the surrounding land in pairs. Found a number of footprints, but alas, no Yeti. That is, until the very last day."
The witch's dark brown eyes sparkled in delight. "It was just past dawn when we realized there was someone trying to get into our tent! Xeno was in the middle of getting up and saw the shadow of our would-be intruder."
"I honestly didn't know Daddy could scream so loudly," interjected Luna, her expression tender at the memory.
The youngest Kolumbiko giggled heartily. "I know! Woke us all right up and spurred Ommi into action." Sera reacted almost immediately, unholstering her wand to charge forth. Only to stop short at the sight of an overly curious baby Yeti who'd somehow bypassed the bevy of security wards around their tent. It was at a little under five-feet tall and adorably wide-eyed, inquisitively poking at Lady Kolumbiko whilst emitting a series of precious little squeaks as though trying to communicate with the witch.
"Baby Yeti?!" interjected Anthony excitedly. "That's exceptionally rare! There's very little known about the reproductive cycle of the creatures since they attack and eat anything they meet unless they're repelled with some sort of fire spell."
"Very true," replied Eurus sagely. "According to my mum their fur possesses specialized camouflage abilities that not only allows them to blend in with their surroundings, but also grants them the ability to bypass certain obscuring wards."
"Like a demiguise?" interjected a curious Daphne, before startling back with a soft blush as several pairs of eyes turned in her direction.
"Precisely!" replied Eurus. "Ommi was able to get a few strands of the baby's fur for future evaluation. But we had to leave almost immediately after because baby yeti means mummy yeti." She lightly shuddered in recollection of the almost 15-foot behemoth of raging hirsute humanoid hellbent on devouring them whole for being near her young.
Fire shields from Sera and Eurus kept scared the creatures off, giving Luna and Xeno enough time to quickly pack up the tent before a Portkey delivered the foursome to safety.
"Do you plan on going back?" asked a curious Tori.
"Oh definitely!" Luna nodded her head eagerly as Eurus mimicked her movement. The youngest Kolumbiko turned to the boys to ask them about their summer, prompting their excited recounting of their holiday in Paris as they regaled their fellow Slytherins with the experience at the European Junior Dueling Tournament. The conversation inevitably drifted to their stay in Château Black and Lord Wilkes' birthday celebration.
"How was your party Harry? Did you enjoy the Dirigible Plum jam I sent?"
To Luna's surprise the boy lightly pinked at the mention of the jam, not helped by the snickers from Justin, Anthony, and Draco as Theo outright laughed.
"Yeah Harry," supplied Heir Malfoy cheekily, "How much did you enjoy the jam?"
"It was fine," the former Potter mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with any of them as the giggles rose in volume.
Theo simply couldn't resist even as Harry glared in his direction. "Well… this one here was so excited to enjoy the delicious jam that he ate an entire jar with toast points within half an hour. Imagine our surprise to see the birthday boy suddenly begin floating in the garden!" That had startled said birthday boy's godfather who raced through the garden to catch his horrified godson. That continued for almost a minute, before Sirius remembered he was a wizard and cast Arresto and a modified Incarcerous on the boy to keep him grounded. Severus, in full 'Potion Master' mode, quickly created a modified Digestive Poultice he instructed his student to ingest, which worked to absorb the Dirigible Plum jam in his system and thus negated its buoyant effects.
Amy openly guffawed at the end of Theo's explanation, causing a chain effect as most in the room began laughing. Though amused, Luna still wore a disapproving expression, having warned her best friend of the jam's effects if too much was consumed too quickly.
None of this was helped by the flustered expression Lord Wilkes wore, spots of pink blooming on his cheeks. The laughter soon died down, prompting Harry to deftly change the conversation to considerably less embarrassing topics.
Molly's Magical Morsels Stand - Refreshment Square, 12:39PM
Stretching his legs contentedly in the designated sitting space within the Stand, Jim Potter quietly perused the first chapter of Within and Beyond the Way of Water.
Madame Katara's technique was exceptional, her movements effortless in the animated images of her demonstrating her self-created hybridized Water mudras. The persistent feeling of calm and relaxation flowed through Heir Potter, though he wasn't sure if it was a consequence of the innate magicks of Water-based Wu-Xi-Do, Madame Katara's writing style, or both.
Molly worked the counter with the Twins, who'd taken over for Heir Potter to give him a small break. Save Bill and Percy (and Arthur who was working a full day at the office), all the Weasley children were on deck to assist their mother with sales and organizing the many catering orders she'd received. Ginny already worked the morning shift, leaving her free to enjoy the remainder of the day with her friends. After the Twins would be his and Ron's turn, the latter of whom was currently with Padma in the M.Y.L.P. tent gushing over the English Quidditch Team.
The thought of his best friend and the elder Patil twin together filled Heir Potter's mind, causing an unconscious tick in his jaw.
Shaking off the sensation, the Boy-Who-Lived took in his bustling surroundings.
The Refreshment Square was placed directly west of the Quidditch Trillenium Stadium, the massive 100,000-seat arena that hosted the actual matches. The lively area featured several food and souvenir vendors, including those of the Cup's sponsors.
One such sponsor was Dissimulator Inc., a subsidiary of Quidditch Quality Supplies. They sold their namesake products; large multicolored horn-like tubes that emitted loud cheers and puffs of scented smoke in national colors, used by audience members to show support for their preferred teams during matches. Ludo Bagman - Director of Magical Games and Sports and primary Cup Organizer - was a major investor in the company, the amount of profit made in the Cup was enough to keep the company in the black for several months.
In addition to keeping Ludo's pockets comfortably lined.
The flag of the DMLE's tent caught Heir Potter's eye, rather hard to miss given its size.
Situated just outside the boundary of the Refreshment Square, the DMLE tent served as the headquarters for the Aurors on duty and other relevant law enforcement staff that were required for an event of this magnitude.
Senior Aurors Moody, Yaxley, Potter, and Robards served as the primary point-of-contact for the junior-level Aurors and Academy students on hand for duty. Trainees who'd completed at least 1000 Passed Hours of training were granted Limited Deputization to provide the necessary tactical support for round-the-clock patrol and security. Under Auror Jason Dodderidge's supervision, a total of six Aurors (including Trainee Marcus Flint) would provide intermittent aerial surveillance for the campsite, reporting back to Dodderidge if they incurred any issues or discrepancies.
Minister Bones and Director Shacklebolt had spared no expense in making all of this possible, determined to do their best to keep their citizens safe.
Plus, the World Cup constituted a major event for international diplomatic relations, and how utterly devastating would it be to Wizarding Britain's reputation as the host country if it ended in some catastrophic disaster?
As was standard, the Aurors worked in pairs whilst patrolling, with at half a dozen within the confines of the campsite's wards and another half-dozen keeping a close eye on the wards' perimeters. Situated in a five-point star, each 'point' served as a 'node' to the complex ward scheme that kept the entire magically-modified campsite protected and obscured from prying muggle eyes. A dense foliage of forest surrounded the campsite proper, providing an additional layer of protective obfuscation.
"Sirius! Over here!"
Molly's voice loudly sounded and interrupted Jim's musing, the matronly witch eagerly waving over Lord Black and Hermione. She hugged the two rather tightly before fussing over them, much to the former's shameless delight and the latter's mild embarrassment.
The Twins did their usual fawning over their "absolute favorite Marauder", who posed imperiously as he was lavished with praise by Hogwarts' resident prank-loving duo.
A large cardboard box spelled with modified Warming and Stasis Charms were thrust into each of their arms by the witch, teeming with cornish hen and lamb patsies, chicken kabobs, mini shepherd pies, deviled eggs, a large assortment of fruit pies, and 'Snitch Sticks' - miniature golden Snitch cakes on a stick. It smelled divine, and Sirius felt his mouth water at the feast as Padfoot's advanced sense of smell zoned in on the delicious flavors.
"Erm Mrs. Weasley… this is too much-"
"Oh nonsense!" she replied happily, waving Hermione off. "You have a tent full of children who will make good work of them both." She winked at Lord Black, who nodded eagerly before profusely thanking the witch. Reaching into his inner cloak pocket, Sirius retrieved a handful of galleons to pay for the veritable feast.
"Put that away Sirius, I mean it!" Molly wagged her finger threateningly as her eyes narrowed disapprovingly, causing a wide-eyed Lord Black to freeze.
Luckily, the Twins came to the rescue.
"We won't say no tips!" "For a job well done!" "Well…properly done." "I'd wager 'decently done', Forge." "Well in that case, I'd say 'rather adequately done' Gred."
Sirius barked out a laugh at their infamous twin speak, depositing a fistful of galleons into the Unbreakable jar before clapping a friendly hand over each of their shoulders. As one, Lord Black and Hermione turned to make their leave, before the younger Gryffindor visibly froze.
In front of her were the pair of Neville and Charlie, the latter having picked up the former from the main Portkey Point of Entrance where Mr. Richards was located.
A look of hope filled Heir Longbottom's face, which was quickly dashed by the scathing sneer Hermione sent his way before storming off, startling the Twins, Charlie, and Jim at the ferocity of her expression. Molly hadn't noticed, too busy attending to customers. Sirius sent a sympathetic wince Neville's way as he took off after the witchling, not realizing things had deteriorated that badly between the two friends.
Sighing despondently, Neville hoped against hope that Harry would be able to come through for him in getting out of this hell of his own making.
At the Same Time…
Thursdays, Aries Flint decided, were truly the worst day of the week.
Huddled in the confines of a too-small tent on the outermost boundary of the campsite close to one of five ward-node locations, the eldest Flint hoped that the evening's… plans went off without that hitch, mainly with him living through the night.
For the first time in over a decade he'd been contacted by Mr. Tyrfing, recalling the chill that raced down his back at the two-sentence message written on the scrap of parchment which self-immolated the very second his eyes read the last word.
Deep down, a part of him had expected this; reading the news of Rowle's reveal as Tyrfing and his subsequent breakout of the Ministry with Obediah Prewett of all people had been both horrifying and sobering, confirming the inevitable.
As far as Aries was concerned, the heralding drums of resurrection had begun their beat the very second the Dark Lord's Inner Circle had broken out of Azkaban the previous summer. He hadn't believed the Marcellus Frump revenge plot for one second; in fact, he was convinced that the so-called vigilante and former Hogwarts Caretaker was a secret Death Eater, more than likely the elusive and exceedingly dangerous Mr. Justinian.
Sighing those distressing thoughts away, the would-be Lord Flint turned his attention to the evening's events.
He and eleven others presumably under Tyrfing's command would be leading a raid to remember against the World Cup, marking the symbolic return of Rex Norvegicus and ridding their world of as much filth as humanly possible. Mr. Misericorde had discreetly shared the patrol schedule of all the Aurors on duty, giving Aries and his comrades ample forewarning on who to sabotage and when. He turned to look at the small and nondescript satchel containing a very special item of Mr. Toymaker's he was meant to place directly near the ward-node location exactly one minute before 9:00PM.
He couldn't help the trickle of terror that slithered down his back.
It would be a more daunting task than naught; despite Tyrfing's frightening prowess and incorrigible bloodlust, their numbers had suffered considerable losses.
The death of Miss Demeanor was keenly felt. Not only had she been the RIght Hand of the Dark Lord and his personal assassin, she was an elite and merciless warrior who was capable of cutting down anyone who stood in her or her Master's path.
Messrs. Praestes, Bellator, and Farmer had been remanded back to the newly repaired Azkaban, and as far as Aries knew, there were no active plans to retrieve them from the prison.
With so many 'openings' in the Inner Circle, Aries was certain there would be promotions within ranks, in addition to heavy recruitment overtures to fill the necessary void of foot soldiers Rex would require to fulfill his goals.
Instead of the expected excitement, Flint only felt a growing wave of despondency at the potential of him becoming an Inner Circle Death Eater.
'Why in Merlin's saggy y-fronts did I ever agree to this madness?!'
He snorted in spite of himself as his mind supplied the answer: his greed and ego in his desperate desire to reacquire his "rightful eminence" within wizarding society and reinstate House Flint back to its appropriate position as a Noble House of the Wizengamot. The Dark Lord had promised it would all be his, but after all this time, Aries had yet to see the culmination of those assurances.
'After all I sacrificed…'
Memories of his Initiation Night flashed through his mind, accompanied by the rise of nausea and bile as the phantom taste of bloodied human flesh and viscera filled his mouth under the ghostly light of a full moon. Deep practiced breaths beat the memories and sensations away, mentally thanking Mr. Nemo's tutelage.
And now, it was entirely too late to go back. There was no turning one's back on the Dark Lord once a commitment was made. Defection would only be possible through death, either by Rex Norvegicus' hand or that of Tyrfing.
And both would make him suffer for his would-be betrayal.
For the first time in a very long time, he was pleased that Marcus had escaped his clutches and hadn't pledged his soul to the devil's cause.
With a sigh, Aries took considerable effort to steady his breathing and keep his mind as blank as possible.
Mr. Zodiac couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
Section 6 - Janus Thickey Ward - St, Mungo's, 4:18PM
Glancing around furtively to ensure he was alone, Uriah Travers knocked back a hearty swig from his flask, savoring the burn of his favorite Limited Edition Toasted Christmas Orange flavor of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.
Uriah didn't particularly care for the Yule holiday, and was even less inclined to wait to enjoy an alcoholic beverage.
Tucking his flask back into his robe, he reached for his daughter's hand, who remained as sedate as usual due to the potent Draught of Living Death. When not under the effect of the potion, Datura Travers was prone to violent screaming fits of delusion, insisting that she bled muddy blood out of nonexistent cuts on her flesh and that she could feel mud in her veins. The witch would claw fiercely at her face, arms, and any other part of her body to "get rid of the filth!", only succeeding in severely injuring herself.
She'd been this way since her Fifth Year, cutting herself on a spike of Venomous Tentacula in Herbology class and spilling mud-colored blood. Datura had grown hysterical while her shocked pureblood peers had leveled accusations of her being a fake dirty-blooded usurper. That horrendous rumor inevitably snowballed into whispered accusations of him and the deceased Lady Travers being a mudbloods who'd somehow duped and sullied the pureblooded Ancient and Noble Selwyns.
Uriah considered himself very lucky that Cousin Cassilda had merely chastised him about ensuring such "unfounded hearsay" didn't spread and impact House Selwyn's reputation.
"If you cannot handle that dear Cousin… I'm afraid Grandfather will be forced to intervene."
Lord Travers shuddered in recollection at the disturbingly wide smile that'd illuminated Seneschal Selwyn's too beautiful face, her heterochromatic gaze piercing unblinkingly into his own.
'Plus, that bloody Hand…'
Lord Travers flinched on reflex, almost expecting the Merlin-forsaken object to be creeping along his back and shoulder.
Turning his attention back to his bedridden daughter, the Slytherin alumnus fought the growing urge to rage at the source of Datura's tragic situation.
Lily Evans.
Then a mere Third Year, several witnesses in Slytherin House claimed the filthy mudblood had antagonized his precious daughter, denying the very real claims the overly-ambitious little tramp was throwing herself at powerful scions within the Serpent's Nest to secure her unwarranted position with Salazar's great and noble house. It made no sense that the Hat would even offer the dirty-blooded brat a position in Slytherin, but stranger things were always bound to happen.
Even more frustrating was that Uriah hadn't been able to get any proof of the mudblood's action in incapacitating his daughter beyond repair. He'd spent hours raging at Headmaster Dumbledore, trying and failing to intimidate the older wizard into expelling the girl to no avail. Appealing to the Hogwarts Board had been of no use, as had attempting to appeal to Corban Yaxley's humanity in using his influence as a Senior Auror to launch an investigation against the dirty-blooded little bitch.
"Sorry Uri, without any solid proof, I can't possibly raise the matter with Scrimgeour or Bones."
Travers would never forget the oily smile that illuminated the younger wizard's face, clearly enjoying the man's suffering.
One day, he would enjoy putting Yaxley in his well-deserved place alongside the mudblood Evans.
Writhing in bloodied agony underneath his boot.
Sighing away that long-held fantasy, Uriah sat by his daughter's side for some additional moments before taking his leave, ensuring that he wore his dragonhide gloves.
Ensuring he was alone, Urian boarded the lift and pausing for a moment, reached into his inner cloak pocket and retrieved a small object - a total set of five - he'd received from Cousin Cassilda who'd received it from Mr. Arachne with very specific instructions.
As discreetly as he was able, Lord Travers placed the miniaturized acid-green rubber duck in the leftmost corner of the lift, no longer caring to look in that direction as the unique Notice-Me-Not and Obscuring Runes activated to keep the object and its four counterparts - currently discreetly placed in the three emergency exits and an obscured corner near the entrance of the Primary Potions Facility - hidden until the right time.
His task complete, Uriah exited the lift and ventured to the Main Exit.
Miss Ann Thrope would take care of the rest.
5:39PM
Ignoring the witch's slight groan Harry looped an arm through Hermione's own, eliciting a small smile despite the Gryffindor's efforts to remain tough.
The entirety of their group was headed to the Trillenium Stadium to settle in for the finals match between Ireland and Bulgaria. Sirius and Lily led the pack, the former loudly singing the Ireland National Team's anthem at the top of his lungs as Regent Wilkes laughingly rolled her eyes at his antics. Lord Black was outfitted in Beater Finbar Quigley's jersey, proudly demonstrating his support for his favorite player.
Undeterred, Harry squeezed Hermione's arm a little more, practically molding her to his side as he peered down sweetly at his Gryffindor best friend.
"Stop it Harry," she said sternly. "I am not speaking with him."
Her friend sighed, before tightening his hold on her arm as he hit her with the full charm offensive of his piercing emerald green orbs and adorable pout.
"Haaarrryyyy," whined the Gryffindor, trying and failing to repress the laughter that bubbled from her throat at his antics.
"C'mon Mione, you promised." He increased the intensity of his stare, his legilimency preventing the witch from breaking his gaze as she fought against the slow heat rising to her cheeks at the intensity of his unyielding expression.
"Well…I-well…you-see…" she belatedly realized she was stuttering, wondering where the hell that was coming from.
"Mione," Prince Potter's tone was dulcet yet focused, unflinchingly holding his friend's gaze as he linked their fingers in his hold. "You pinky-promised me Hermione Jean Granger…are you going to back on a pinky-promise?"
Her mouth opened and closed for a few moments, before she sagged in defeat. "You're right Harry… I pinky-promised. Once the game is over, you, Neville, Theo, and I will reconvene back in the tent to have our long overdue chat."
Whooping in delight Harry hugged her tightly, causing her to laugh brightly before smacking his shoulder with her free hand. Turning his head ever so slightly, Lord Wilkes gave a subtle nod to Theo who walked a few paces behind the pair alongside Anthony and Justin.
The ex-Nott turned and repeated the signal to Draco, who repeated it to Heir Longbottom who walked a few paces behind him beside Amy, Saffron, and Noel. The noticeable look of relief that flashed across Neville's face was undeniable upon receiving confirmation that he would have the chance to properly apologize to Hermione and get all his friends back.
Ginny watched the exchange curiously by Draco's side, but figured it wasn't important as Heir Malfoy would have made a point to tell her. Shrugging, she tightened the arm looped through the blonde's own, earning a beaming smile from the boy.
From their joint vantage some feet behind the pair, Lucius and Andrew watched the exchange curiously, though both made a point to not share their observations and subsequent thoughts with the other.
AN 1: 'Motitus' means the formation of an isolated block or "motti", used by the Finnish military to encircle an enemy to entrap them. In affective musical theory, D Major is a key that's often associated with feelings of triumph, confidence, and victory. Fitting given this arc's theme.
AN 2: I haven't decided on Noel's character actress, but the role of Saffron Brown is played by Samantha Hanratty in her role as a teenaged Misty Quigley (Yellowjackets). The role of Uriah Travers is played by Jerome Flynn as Bennet Drake (Ripper Street).