It's a Love That Has No Past

I stood beside my bed just beyond Hermione’s. Naturally Ginny had chosen the bed furthest from mine. I sighed and sat down upon the uncomfortable mattress and looked hopelessly at my makeup bag. I wasn’t sure if I honestly cared to fiddle with makeup; I was still incredibly sleepy. The sleeping arrangement with Ginny and Hermione was going to be a disaster. This I was sure of. Another thing I was now sure of was it was going to have nothing to do with Hermione. The look on her face resembled a constant fear as if she was sitting next to a Blast-Ended Skrewt, just waiting for it to back fire.

I fetched a book from my backpack and got up from the uncomfortable mattress and made my way to the mismatched armchair in what would be considered our sitting room. I sat down and curled my legs up and began to fiddle through the pages to find my place. Bang. I rolled my eyes as I heard the loud thud come from Ginny’s end of the tent. When I had entered the tent, Ginny had begun to slam her things about out of rage for having to be confined to the same quarters as me. I was not happy either, but I refrained from throwing things and muttering things under my breath. Twenty long minutes of silence, not a one of us speaking to each other or even daring to look in their direction, passed. I wasn’t sure if Hermione simply had nothing to say or was scared of setting one of us off. I attempted with everything in me to ignore Ginny until one last bang of her backpack seemed to have landed squarely on my last nerve.

“WILL YOU STOP YOUR BANGING?!?!” I screamed, tossing my book as hard as I could onto the floor and jumping up from my seat, looking at Ginny fiercely.

“NO I WON’T!” she shouted, whirling around.

“Listen here,” I said, taking a deep breath trying to control my temper, “You really think I’m happy about having to be stuck in a damn tent with you when you’re acting like a freaking child?! Guess again!”

She narrowed her eyes and took a few steps towards me; I raised my eyebrows and did the same, enclosing the gap between us so we were now face to face. Hermione stood a foot away from us, a look of shock and horror on her face. She seemed to be torn between what to do, unable to move or speak.

“I don’t care if you’re happy or not, Briley…” Ginny snarled.

“I don’t know what your damage is Weasley but you serious need to get a grip and get over it. You know for a fact I have not done anything to deliberately hurt you and this petty silent treatment and evil looks is stupid. GROW UP! It needs to end, NOW!” I said sternly.

“Ginny…” Hermione said weakly.

“STAY OUT OF THIS HERMIONE!” Ginny yelled, not even looking over at her. She kept her eyes fixated on me.

Mine and Ginny’s shouts of rage had clearly traveled and peaked interest as Harry, Ron and George entered our tent, all three wearing looks of curiosity.

“What’s going...?” Ron said, stopping abruptly, “OH.”

Hermione threw her hands up and shook her head at the three boys in the doorway, giving them a look of plea for help with the situation at hand. Harry immediately crossed the small tent and took hold of my arm. I wanted to jerk back and tell him to let go simply out of rage, but I knew it wasn’t him I was mad at. George made his way over to us and came to my other side before he spoke.

“Ginny, seriously you’re being ridiculous,” said George, “You and Briley were friends and just because she’s…”

“Just shut up George!” she snapped, eyeing him. She huffed and turned quickly, making her way out of the tent.

Hermione let out a sigh in relief as the flap of the doorway fluttered back closed once Ginny was out of sight, “Oh I was sure you were going to hit her, Briley.”

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t. I still consider her a friend no matter how much she hates me right now, I don’t hate her.” I said, rolling my eyes. I could still feel my heart racing with anger though.

Fred poked his head in the tent, “What did I miss? Ginny is fuming!”

“You missed them being face to face and yelling, that’s about it,” Harry said.

Fred narrowed his eyes and came in, “Ah. Oh, Dad wants you Ron.”

“Why me?” Ron groaned as he got up from the seat he had taken.

“Because you’re special,” Fred said shrugging, “Just go.”

Ron expired heavily and disappeared through the doorway as Fred beckoned George to follow him out. Knowing them, they were keen to get the Ton-Tongue Toffees I had cleverly managed to keep in hiding and smuggle out sold. Harry bent down and picked up my book and took a seat in the armchair I had deserted behind him. I turned around to see him, eyebrows raised and patting his lap. I smiled and sat down in his lap, laying my head upon his shoulder.

“When do you have to find Emily?” he asked, kissing my forehead.

“I dunno, whenever I go to look for her,” I shrugged slightly, “No time soon though.”

“Good,” he chuckled.

“Why is that good?” I asked.

“The longer you’re away from Emily, the more time I have you to myself. I know Emily; she won’t shut up with the gossip. You’ve been away from her all holiday, there’s no telling how much she’s got backed up.” he replied.

I leaned up and smiled at him, happy to hear he wanted to spend time with just me and partially amused that he knew Emily couldn’t resist but jabber constantly about the things she had heard through the grapevine.

“Trust me, I miss Emily and all but not near as much as I’ve missed you. She can wait,” I smiled, leaning in and kissing him on his cheek.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer, “I missed you too and don’t get me wrong, I like Emily and all but I’m not ready to hear her jabbering.”

I laughed and laid my head back down on his shoulder, “So, did Dudley raid the neighbor’s cabinets like I predicted?”

He chuckled, “Not that I know of, but I’m sure he cheated somewhere along the lines.”

“Yeah, I’d be willing to put money on it,” I agreed.

Ron poked his head in the doorway, “Harry can you light a fire?”

“I’ve never been camping mate,” he replied.

“What about you, Bri?” Ron asked, raising his eyebrows.

I sighed, “Yeah.”

“Ok, c’mon before Dad burns himself or worse,” said Ron before vanishing from view once more.

“I’ll be back,” I said as I stood up from my place upon Harry’s lap.

“I’ll come with you,” said Harry, getting up as well.

The sun was up now; witches and wizards were pouring out of their tents, stretching and yawning; some already up and chattering away with one another. Many were ignoring the “don’t-use-magic” rule Mr. Weasley was keen to stick by, I’m assuming since he worked for the Ministry. I watched as a wizard, donned in a chocolate brown robe stretched as he appeared him his tent, lazily flicking his wand in the direction of a pile of acquired wood as it burst into a roaring fire. A couple tents down a witch with frizzy sandy-colored hair that poked out from the bottom of her pointed hat that made me think of Hermione’s hair, was bent down beside her wood, looking hopelessly at a box of matches in her hand. Mr. Weasley sat upon the ground, the pile of wood they had gathered in front of him. The ground that surrounded him was littered with matches of his failed attempts. A match in one hand, the box in the other, he attempted to strike yet another. The match burst into flames as Mr. Weasley jumped and dropped it out of shock. I chuckled; letting go of Harry’s hand, I walked over to him.

“Here Mr. Weasley,” I said as I sat down beside him and held out my hand.

“Thank goodness we’ve got you Briley,” he said shaking his head and handing me the box.

“I could say the same,” I smiled at him as I opened the box and took out a match, “All you do is hold it firmly and whisk it across and wha-la.” The match lit into a tiny flame as Mr. Weasley’s eyes widened.

“Interesting,” he said, “Now how does this tiny flame start a fire?”

“Well, actually you’re going to need numerous matches,” I shrugged as I stuck the match into the wood pile, “Is there any dried leaves or brush about? Or even grass?”

Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows curiously, “For what?”

“To help the fire get going,” I replied.

“Ah, I see. Hang on,” he said. He got up and beckoned Ron to come along with him in search. Harry came over and took a seat next to me as I struck another match and placed it under the wood. He sat and watched me intently for a moment as I repeated the process. I leaned forward and blew on the fire gently, trying to get a small yet steady flame burning. I sat up after a moment of trying and opened the match box once more. I glanced over at him to see him still staring.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, “Never would have imagined you being outdoorsy.”

I laughed as I whisked the match across the box, “I’m not. My Mum and Dad use to take me and my cousin camping because they thought we enjoyed it. They were sadly mistaken.”

“Here,” said Ron as he appeared alongside me, a armful of dried leaves and brush, “What’s this lot for?”

“To help the fire get burning,” I replied, picking up some of it up from the ground where he tossed it and began sticking it into the fire’s base.

“I don’t understand…” he replied. Mr. Weasley came over and resumed his seat, watching intently as I worked. I felt awkward having an audience as I did this. I struck yet another match and stuck it into the dried brush, blowing gently on it as the flame began to grow. After thirty of so minutes, I had managed to get a considerably sufficient flame going.

“Amazing!” Mr. Weasley said as he looked at the flame before him.

I smiled at him and handed him the box of matches and stood, dusting my clothes off.

“Wanna go have a look around?” said Ron, gesturing toward the mass of tents beyond us.

“Yeah!” I proclaimed, “Let me go get Hermione.”

After fetching Hermione from behind her book, we set off down the row. I had never been anywhere besides Diagon Alley with so many witches and wizards. I walked silently, gapping at the amazing scenes. We passed tent after tent and witches and wizards from all around the world. A couple of African wizards sat in front of their tent around a blazing fire which seemed to be cooking what looked like a rabbit. I crinkled my nose in disgust and looked away. Just beyond was a pyramid-shaped tent which three Arabic witches sat around in feverish conversation in a language I could not understand. To my left was a large spangled banner over a rather bland tent. Beneath the banner held a sign, “Salem Witches’ Institute”, which four American witches sat beneath, laughing and gossiping. I turned around to watch a wizard who passed, his long beard resembled Dumbledore’s and his long robes were a shade of glimmering pearl. There was so much to see; I kept darting my attention is different directions as we walked along; trying to observe everything we passed. I heard a chuckle beside me and turned around to walk the right way once the wizard was out of view. Harry was walking a step or two ahead of me, smiling broadly at me.

“Amazing, huh?” he said, holding out his hand for me to take.

I smiled even more and took it, “Yeah, I’ve never seen this many witches and wizards. Is it silly I never even thought of there being others all over the world?”

“No, it’s not silly, love,” he said, pulling my hand so I came closer. He wrapped his arm around me as we continued along.

“WOW,” Ron said suddenly, stopping, “Are my eyes playing tricks on me or did everything just go green?”

Ron was right; his eyes were not playing tricks on him. We had happened upon a large area of tents, covered in large decorations of shamrocks and small leprechauns. Not only were the tents covered in green, their occupants were donning green as well, beaming as they chatted happily with one another.

“You’ll fit right in,” Ron said to me, nodding towards a small statue of a leprechaun.

“Yeah, guess so,” I chuckled.

Just then, from somewhere unknown beyond them, we heard our names being called.

“Harry! Ron! Briley! Hermione!”

We glanced around the grounds to finally lay eyes upon Seamus Finnigan. He sat in front of one of the large shamrock-colored tents, along with a sandy-haired woman who he greatly resembled, no doubt his mother, and Dean Thomas, another Gryffindor.

“Hey guys,” he smiled as we approached.

“Hey Seamus. Hey Dean,” I said brightly.

“Like the decorations?” said Seamus, grinning and glancing back at his tent.

“Yeah!” Harry and I said, nodding.

“Ministry isn’t happy, but why shouldn’t we show off our colors?” Mrs. Finnigan said.

“I know you’ll be supporting Ireland, right Briley?” said Dean, “What about you three?”

Hermione, Ron and Harry nodded; reassuring them they too would be supporting Ireland as well. After a few short minutes of conversation, we said our goodbyes and set off once more.

“Let’s have a look at the Bulgarian tents,” Ron said, leading the way.

Just ahead the Bulgarian flag could be seen fluttering in the breeze, the drastic color change from bright green to white, green and red marked the division. As we drew near, I noticed the tents all donned the same large poster of a churlish faced boy, who didn’t seem to be much older than Percy, with thick black eyebrows.

“Who is – “

“Krum,” Ron said in a somewhat dreamy tone.

“Who?” Harry, Hermione and I said in unison.

“Krum! Viktor Krum! The Bulgarian Seeker!” Ron said impatiently, like we should have already known this bit of information.

“A bit grumpy looking, don’t you think?” Hermione said, looking around at all the posters.

“Grumpy?” Ron exasperated, “What does it matter if he’s grumpy looking?! He can be what he pleases! He’s brilliant! Really young too, only eighteen or so.”

“I’m getting hungry, we should head back,” I said, my stomach giving a low rumble.

“Me too, let’s go,” Harry said, turning around and leading me back down the way towards our tent.

Along the way, we saw many more familiar faces. Cho Chang was the first we saw. She stood and began to wave feverishly until she spotted me on Harry’s arm. She quickly sat back down and pretended to have been mistaken of who she saw.

Hermione was set into a fit of giggles when she witnessed this, “Clearly she’s not over you almost knocking her off her broom.”

“Obviously,” I replied with a sly smile.

The next was Ernie Macmillian from Hufflepuff, followed by Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones just to name a few. Harry let out a groan as a familiar voice called my name, followed by his own. I turned in the direction of the voice to see Oliver Wood, waving and walking over. Ron’s eyes widened slightly as he came to a stop.

“Hey Briley,” Wood said, not acknowledging Harry’s hand in mine and threw his arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

“Um, hey Oliver,” I stammered.

“Hey Harry,” he said quickly as he pulled away from me, “How have you been?”

“Good, you?” I said, glancing over at Harry who wore a look of shock and disgust on his face.

“Really good, I just got signed to Puddlemere United!” he said excitedly.

“Oh wow! That’s great!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, come,” he said motioning us to follow him.

We followed him over to his tent, where he introduced us to his parents’, particularly excited about Harry’s presence, though the feeling was obviously not mutual. After the very awkward introduction, Harry quickly mentioned we should be on our way and we departed. Harry’s mood was significantly more hostile since our encounter with Wood.

I nudged him slightly was we walked hand in hand, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he replied dully, “Just really don’t like him.”

I nodded and chose not to continue the conversation.

“Briley!” I heard a voice call. Immediately Ron tripped over his own two feet and hit the ground.

“Oh my, Ron!” I said, bending down to help him up, “What the bloody hell?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his cheeks now matching his hair. Harry was snickering uncontrollably beside me as I saw Anna making her way over to me, smiling broadly. Hermione rolled her eyes and mumbled something like, “I’ll see you later” and strolled off towards our tent.

“Shut up, Potter,” Ron hissed as she approached. I squealed and hugged her.

“Hey Harry,” she said as she pulled away from me, “Hey Ron.”

Harry smiled brightly and said hello as he looked over at Ron. His cheeks were still as flaming as his hair as he stumbled over his words of greeting to her.

“How are you?” she asked, looking back at me, “Sorry I haven’t written much, we’ve been away in Costa Rica for most of the holiday. Just came back for the World Cup.”

“Wow! Costa Rica! Lucky you!” I gasped, “How was it?”

She smiled, “It was beautiful!”

She then twirled around a bit, “Like the tan?”

“Love it!” I said, “Wish I could have got a Costa Rican style tan! Mine’s a backyard one.”

“Very nice thought,” she said, raising her eyebrows, “It’s kinda weird seeing you with a tan, I’m use to the Irish complexion.” She laughed as she noted my now prominent freckles, “You and Fred match now!”

I laughed, “Yeah, that’s exactly what he said!”

“Where is he?” she asked, looking around.

I pointed down the way Hermione had headed, “Down at the tent, I suppose.”

“Ah, I’ll come say hi in a while, I’m starving and our lunch is almost done. I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, hugging me once more and skipping back to her tent.

After a few short moments we reached the tent; I glanced over at Ron.

“You like Anna don’t you?” I asked.

He snapped his head over at me; his mouth gapped open as he stammered, trying to find an answer.

“I didn’t tell her mate,” Harry said at once.

“OH JUST THROW THE GNOME OUT OF THE BAG!” Ron hissed angrily, “I could have played that off, Potter!”

I began giggle uncontrollably, “Ron, if” I gapped my mouth open and widened my eyes in shock, “is your idea of playing it off, you have a few lessons to take.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Fine.”

“It’s ok,” I shrugged as we approached our tent, “Cause she likes you too.”

“What?” said Ron.

I turned around and just smiled at him. He had stopped in his tracks, mouth agape again. Harry gave me a puzzled look, “She does?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “She has since the beginning of last year.”

“Don’t do that Ron,” George said, shaking his head in disapproval as he emerged from their tent, “You look like a blowfish.”

Ron snapped his mouth closed and narrowed his eyes, “Shove it.”

He hurried over to me as I bent down to pick up a pan and begin to cook some eggs. Hermione was already preparing the sausage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“She asked me not to,” I said as I cracked an egg on the side of the pan, “She’s a bit shy, ya know?”

“Who is?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Anna,” I replied without looking up.

“So what do I do?” Ron asked.

I turned to look at him curiously as I let another egg plop into the pan, “What? I don’t know, ask Harry. All I know is I could talk to her, if you want.”

“You’d do that for me?” he asked desperately.

“Of course,” I chuckled.

He flung his arms around me almost knocking the pan off my lap, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” I said, patting him on the back awkwardly.

I finished compiling enough eggs to feed the lot of us into the pan and scrambled them up, placing the pan on the fire. Harry walked over as I crouched down over the fire, stirring the eggs. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around me as I worked, kissing my cheek every so often. I saw Hermione roll her eyes out of the corner of my own. Hermione had not been very keen on the fact of me and Harry dating; why I didn’t know.

“They’re here,” Hermione said suddenly as I stood up, giving the eggs one last needed stir and taking the pan off the fire.

I looked up to see Charlie, Bill and Percy making their way from the woods towards us.

“We’ve just Apparated Dad,” Percy said loudly, chest puffed in pride, “Excellent, lunch! What have you made, Briley? Hermione?”

“Eggs and sausage,” Hermione replied.

Hermione and I helped distribute the food to everyone before making our own plates and sitting down to eat. Charlie, Bill, Fred and George chatted about their bets against the match through their mouthfuls of food. Ginny sat a good distance from many of us, a look of anger still upon her face as she ate silently. After a while of silent eating, I dropped my fork with a clink.

“Are you not gonna finish that?” Ron asked, pointing to my half eaten plate.

“No,” I shook my head.

He held out his hand. I chuckled and passed him my plate. He sat his empty one down and began to finish mine.

“I swear, you are a bottomless pit,” I said, shaking my head..

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of eggs, “I like to eat.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna get fat,” I chuckled, “And I’m going to laugh.”

“Thas ‘ostile,” he mumbled.

“Hey Bri!” Anna’s voice came. I looked up to see her walking towards us; her deep tan she had got from Costa Rica complimented her beige tank top perfectly. Ron choked on his mouthful of eggs, coughing and sputtering. I shook my head and sighed. Smooth Ron, I thought to myself.

“Hey Anna,” I said, smiling.

She sat down beside Ron, whose face was once again flushed, clashing horribly with his hair.

“Hey Ron,” she said, looking at him and smiling, “You ok?”

He coughed once more and cleared his throat, “Hey, uh yeah I’m fine. Just got choked…. Is all.”

She laughed breezily before she looked back at me, “Have you seen Emily? She wrote me saying she’d be here and naturally she has a ton to tell me.”

“I got the same letter,” I said, “I haven’t seen her yet though.”

“Me either,” she replied, looking back at the crowd of witches and wizards, “I’m sure she’s searching everywhere for us. Bet she’s busting at the seams ready to tell us all she’s heard.”

“Yeah, I’d say she is,” Harry said, sitting down his empty plate.

Mr. Weasley walked over, sitting his plate by the fire and smiled, “Is this your friend Briley?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “This is Anna Harper. Anna, this is Ron’s dad, Mr. Weasley.”

“Pleasure,” he said smiling at her, “Harper you say? Would your father happen to be...”

“Mickey,” she finished his sentence, with a nod.

“Ah, yes. I know Mickey, good man he is; works in the Department of Mysteries, an Unspeakable. Are you here with him?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s just there,” she said pointing over to her tent just a few down from ours.

“Ah, I’ll have to go say hello in a few minutes,” he nodded.

“Did you say Unspeakable, Mr. Weasley?” I asked, raising my eyebrows, “What is that?”

“Everyone who works in the Department of Mysteries is considered an Unspeakable. No one from there is allowed to speak of what they are working on; no one knows what they are up to. Hence the name,” he explained.

“Weird,” I said, looking at Anna curiously.

“Yeah, he never talks about work,” Anna said, nodding in agreement.

“Ahoy there Arthur!” A booming voice called.

Everyone turned to look to see a rather large man, wearing a black and yellow striped Quidditch robe coming towards us. His chubby face, short blonde hair and rosy cheeks made him seem like a school boy that had chosen to never grow up. He smiled and stuck his hand out as he approached, shaking Mr. Weasley’s hand feverishly.

“Good to see you Arthur!” the man said brightly.

“And you, Ludo!” he replied, smiling, “How are things going?”

“Excellent! Couldn’t have asked for a better day! And a cloudless night to come! Not a thing for me to do! Everything is running smoothly!” he replied excitedly. I crinkled my forehead as I saw three Ministry wizards dash by looking rather stressed.

“Ow,” Harry and I said in unison as Percy dashed between us, nicking both of us with his feet, arm outstretched to shake Ludo’s.

“Freakin’ twit,” I mumbled, rubbing my leg. Harry rolled his eyes in Percy’s direction as he moved closer to me and put his arm around me.

“Ah – yes,” Mr. Weasley said, noticing Percy now, “this is my son Percy – just started at the Ministry.”

Ludo took his hand and shook it, clearly unimpressed.

“And this my other sons, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie and Ron – my daughter, Ginny – Ron’s friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter – and Briley White, who is staying with us while her father is on… business and her friend Anna Harper.” said Mr. Weasley, grinning, “Everyone this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is. It’s thanks to him we have such great seats for the match.”

Mr. Bagman chuckled and waved his hand dismissively as if he thought nothing of it, “Fancy a venture on the match?” He eagerly jingled his pockets which sounded full of gold.

“Um, sure. A Galleon on Ireland,” Mr. Weasley said, pulling out a gold piece from his pocket.

Mr. Bagman seemed quite disappointed but took the bet nonetheless, “Any other takers?”

“They’re a bit young for gambling…” Mr. Wealsey said weakly.

“We’ll bet,” Fred and George said just as I said, “I’m in.”

“Boys, Briley….” Mr. Weasley said stunned.

“Ah, what’s life without a little risk?” I said with a shrug and began to dig in my pockets.

“Ah, that’s the spirit darling!” Mr. Bagman said brightly.

“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fiftenn Sickles and three Knuts,” Fred said, holding his hand out for George to dump his share into his hands, “that Ireland wins, but Bulgaria gets the Snitch. Oh, and we’ll throw in a fake wand.”

“I’m sure Mr. Bagman will not want to be interested in such rubbish…” Percy said tartly.

But Percy was wrong. Mr. Bagman’s eyes lit up with glee when Fred handed him their creation. He took it from Fred as it gave a loud squeak and turn into a rubber chicken.

Mr. Bagman began to laugh hysterically, “That was the most convincing one I have seen in years! I’d give seven Galleons for that!” Percy stood in shock.

“Boys… that’s your savings…” Mr. Weasley said under his breath.

But the twins’ ignored him as they took the slip of parchment from Mr. Bagman with a smile.

“And you darling?” he said as he turned to me.

“Nine Galleons,” I replied, “On the same. Ireland takes it but Krum gets the Snitch.”

“You’re insane, Bri,” Harry muttered.

“Ah, not a chance darling,” Mr. Bagman said as he jotted down the wager on the bit of parchment in his hand and passed it to me, “Excellent odds, though. Boys, you’ll do excellent with those wands! I’d love to see more!”

Fred and George grinned as they glanced at Mr. Weasley; the look of victory upon their faces.

Percy abandoned his look of horror and spoke up, “Would you care for some tea, Mr. Bagman?”

“Yes, dear boy,” he said, making himself comfortable as he took a seat on the ground beside Mr. Weasley.

I snickered along with Anna, who sat by my side. Percy had always been a source of fun making for the two of us, along with Emily. Seeing him even more up tight than usual was quite amusing for us. I saw Ron out of the corner of my eye, on Anna’s other side; a look of nervousness upon his face. I was sure he was worried I was whispering to Anna about him, not making fun of Percy.

“Have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?” Mr. Weasley asked Mr. Bagman.

“Not a peep,” Mr. Bagman said without a care, “Mind you, she’ll turn up. Lost, she is. Mark my words.”

“Shouldn’t someone be sent to look for her?” Mr. Weasley suggested hesitantly.

Mr. Bagman laughed as he took the cup of tea from Percy, “Barty keeps saying that. No no, she’ll turn up. Speak of the devil – Barty!”

The man that had appeared suddenly that morning and modified the Muggle at the entrance’s memory had appeared out of nowhere with a pop just a short distance from our campfire. He was the complete opposite of Mr. Bagman; he wore a suit and upon seeing him closer now, his hair was unnaturally neat, parted perfectly. His shoes were spotless and he wore a sense of arrogance about him. I could now see why Percy seemed to idolize him. At the mention of his presence Percy jumped to his feet. I snickered slightly, trying to hold in my laughter.

“Take a seat, Barty!” Mr. Bagman said before taking a sip of his tea.

“No thank you, Ludo,” he said dismissively, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The Bulgarians want extra seats at the Top Box.”

“Oh, is that what he was asking for?” Mr. Bagman coughed in surprise, “I thought he was asking for tweezers. Very strong accent, you know?”

“Mr. Crouch,” Percy said in an almost dreamy manner, giving a nervous twitch that seemed to be his failed attempt of a bow, “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, without even glancing in Percy’s direction, “Thank you, Weatherby.”

I choked on my sip of tea, spitting it everywhere as it even came out of my nose. Fred and George had choked on theirs as well, covering themselves with tea. I wiped myself clean as I crinkled my face up in attempt not to bust out in a hysterical fit of laughter. Fred and George seemed to be doing the same; their faces screwed up as well. Harry leaned over and hid his face behind my shoulder. Percy, now flushed as red as Ron had been earlier, busied himself with the kettle, preparing the tea.

“Goodness,” Mr. Bagman said, “Are you alright, darling?”

“Yes,” I coughed, wiping my face; Harry snickering uncontrollably beside me, “Allergies. They’re a killer ya know?”

“Oh, Merlin,” Mr. Bagman replied, shaking his head.

“Mr. Crouch,” Percy said feebly.

Mr. Crouch didn’t respond to him, he simply took the cup and continued his attention to the others.
He began talking business with Mr. Weasley on a matter in his department. I tuned out at this point; glancing over at Anna who was still trying not to laugh.

“That was the best thing that could have ever happened,” she whispered.

“I know right!” I chuckled, “That just made my day!”

I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to tell her about Ron; I beckoned her to lean in.

“Do you still have a thing for Ron?” I whispered in her ear.

She pulled away and looked at me curiously and nodded, “Why?”

“Shhh,” I hissed, waving for her to come back, “He likes you.”

She jerked back rather quickly, mouth agape, “Really?”

I nodded and smiled brightly. She left her mouth wide open for a moment before glancing over at Ron briefly, then back to me.

“Don’t lie to me Briley,” she hissed.

“I’m not!” I protested.

Her smile widened as her cheeks flushed feverishly, “So, do I talk to him?”

“Of course!” I whispered, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Are we trying to play match maker?” Harry chuckled.

“Shhhh!” I hissed at him, “Keep it down. This is top secret!”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “My bad.”

“We agreed not to make any announcements until the details were –“ I heard Mr. Crouch said curtly.

I immediately looked up in interest. Mr. Crouch was looking daringly at Mr. Bagman who waved his hand at him.

“Detail, smetails Barty! It’s signed and agreed, is it not? That’s all the details that are needed. I’m sure these kids will know soon enough. I mean, it’s happening at Hogwarts-“

“Ludo, we must be going to meet with the Bulgarians,” Mr. Crouch said suddenly, cutting him off.

He extended his arm holding his untouched tea for Percy to take, “Thank you Weatherby, I’ll be seeing you at the office.”

Mr. Bagman looked rather annoyed as he rose from the ground and waved to us all, “I’ll be seeing you lot later! You’ll be in the Top Box with me!”

With that the two men Disapparated.

“What’s happening at Hogwarts, Dad?” Fred said immediately.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a smile.

“It’s classified information until the Ministry decides to release it,” Percy said stiffly.

“Oh shut up Weatherby,” Fred, George, Ron and I said in unison.

The afternoon drifted by slowly as it turned into evening. The air itself seemed to be filled with the anticipation as the witches and wizards all around began to get antsy. We had spent the afternoon with Anna in the boys’ tent, since it was much larger, playing games of wizard chess and chatting about the match. Emily had been nowhere in sight, though Anna and I had not left the campsite to look, we were sure she had been parading around looking for us; we were not worried. As the darkness began to consume the field of campers, salesmen began Apparating along the rows and rows of tents, all holding an assortment of souvenirs; laminating rosettes of green and red which squealed the names of the players, pointed green hates with dancing shamrocks, red scarves that embellished with lions that actually roared, flags of both countries that played the national anthems as they waved lazily in the breeze and tiny models of flying Firebolts and each players.

“Ohhh, look!” I said excitedly as the salesman handed Ron his dancing shamrock hat, green rosette and tiny model of Viktor Krum. The tiny model scowled at the green rosette as Ron pinned it to his shirt.

“Omnioculars,” the salesman said eagerly, “Replays action… slows everything down and they give play-by-play also. Ten Galleons each – a real bargain.”

Fred and George stood a ways away from all of us, since they had handed Mr. Bagman all their money. Anna smiled happily and handed the man money, stating she wanted a shamrock hat and a pair of Omnioculars.

I heard Ron mumble from Harry’s side.

“I’ll take three pairs of Omnioculars, three shamrock hats and three rosettes,” I said to the man.

Harry looked at me quizzically.

“I’m buying Fred and George some too,” I said.

“Oh,” he nodded.

The man smiled and handed me my purchases as Anna and I walked over to Fred and George, clutching our purchases, leaving Harry and Hermione to finish their shopping.

“Here boys!” I said merrily, handing them their share, “Put ‘em on!”

“Whoa!” George exclaimed.

“Bri, you didn’t have to!” Fred said, sighing.

“Of course I did!” I said sternly, “These Omniculars are super cool!”

After a few moments of waiting for Harry and Hermione, they stalked over clutching their purchases. Harry had gotten Hermione, Ron and himself a pair of Omniculars and was donning his own shamrock hat. Charlie, Bill and Ginny were pinning their rosettes to their shirts; Ginny’s anger seemed to be subsided with the match drawing so near. Percy stood, no purchases in hand, arms crossed.

“Here Briley,” Hermione said handing me a pamphlet, “I got you a program.”

Oh thanks Hermione!” I said taking it from her.

A loud gong could be heard from beyond the woods as torches burst into flames, illuminating the path to the field.

“It’s time!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed. He seemed to be as excited as the rest of us.

Anna smiled and stuck her hat on her head, “I better get going!”

I noticed Mr. Harper standing just a few feet away; I smiled and waved to him before turning to Anna and hugging her tightly, bidding her farewell.

“Enjoy the match, Mickey!” Mr. Weasley called to him.

He smiled and waved, “You too Arthur!”

“Bye, Ron,” Anna said with a smile before she took off towards her father.

The flaming red color reappeared on Ron’s face as he watched her stroll away. I nudged him and smiled, wiggling my eyebrows, as we began to follow Mr. Weasley into the woods. We walked along the illuminated path; thousands of witches and wizards could be heard all around, laughing, talking excitedly and some singing. The excitement was contagious; not a one of us could stop grinning from ear to ear. After a twenty minute walk we emerged on the edge of the woods and stepped into a shadow of the huge stadium.

“Wow,” I whispered looking up at it. Its huge gold walls rose high above our heads. I had been to America once with my adoptive parents on vacation and had seen their capital building, and as I stood in the shadow of the stadium, I was sure at least seven of them could fit into this with ease.

“Seats a hundred thousand,” Mr. Weasley said as we walked along, “Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it.”

“Prime seats!” the witch at the entrance said as Mr. Weasley showed her our tickets, “Straight up, as far as you can go, Arthur.”

The long walk along the royal purple carpeted stairwell didn’t seem to take near as long as it should have. We reached the top landing to find ourselves in a small box, filled with gold and purple seats. Mr. Weasley walked along as we began filing into the front row, one by one. I took my seat beside Harry, Fred on my other side as he whipped out his Omniculars.

“Wow!” He said as he played with the dials, “I can make that little boy pick his nose and wipe it on his Mum who has no idea again… And again… And again!”

“Wow, is right,” I said as I peered down the glass window, “Not the kid picking his nose and wiping it on his….” I swatted his arm playfully, “That’s gross. Why do you keep replaying it?”

He pulled his eyes away from the Omniculars and smiled with a shrug, “It’s funny.”

I shook my head and looked back down along the stadium. The sight below us was one never could have fathomed. The thousands of witches and wizards that filed into the stadium were taking their seats that rose, level by level. Each donning the colors of their chosen team; large shamrock hats like our own, bright green and scarlet robes, a sea of colorful rosettes. The goals, golden and fifty feet high at least, were situated to our left and right; we were in the dead center. A huge blackboard was straight ahead on the opposite side; gold writing sprawling across it advertising numerous different products I had never heard of. I finally looked away to turn around, eager to see who we would be sharing the box with. It was still empty besides our party, except a small creature in the next row. I nudged Harry and nodded to it. It sat with its hands covering its face, donning a ragged bit of cloth draped over itself like a toga.

“Dobby?” Harry curiously.

The small creature looked up and blinked, “Did sir just call me Dobby?”

“Er, yes,” Harry said as Hermione and Ron wheeled around in their seats to look, “Sorry I thought you were someone else.”

“I knows Dobby, sir!” the high-pitched voice said, “My name is Winky, sir – you must be Harry Potter!”

“Yes, I am,” said Harry mildly.

“Check this out Bri,” said Fred, nudging me slightly, “You’ll never guess...”

I turned back around, breaking my attention on the house-elf to see Fred handing me his pair of Omniculars.

“Please don’t show me the boy wiping his boogie on his Mum,” I said desperately as I took them from him.

“It’s not I promise,” he said, chuckling.

I stuck them to my eyes as he moved them in the direction he wanted me to see. As he stopped I saw what he was talking about. Almost level to us on the other side was Emily, a pair of Omniculars stuck to her face as well, waving madly. I gasped and waved back.

“How did you spot her?” I asked.

“Clearly she had spotted us already,” he chuckled, “I was scanning along trying to find another kid doing something gross and saw her waving like crazy.”

I laughed, handing them back and waved again.

“She is out of control,” I chuckled, “I bet she’s dying to tell me something.”

“Oh yeah, clearly she is,” Fred said, shaking his head as he peered through the devise, “She’s gone.”

I groaned, “Oh Merlin, she can’t wait?”

After a few moments of listening to Hermione read aloud about the display of team mascots that was to precede the match, Emily busted into the box, panting.

“I’ve been looking for you all day!” she said breathlessly, beckoning me to come to her.

“Did you run?” I laughed, getting up and walking to the doorway where she stood, clutching the doorframe with one hand and the stitch in her side in the other.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, “Hey Ron! Hey Hermione! Hey Harry! Well, hey everyone! That makes it simpler. COME! I have something to tell you!”

She grabbed my arm and jerked me out of the small box and onto the landing.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You remember how you told me last year about what Myrtle said?” she said, still trying to catch her breath, “Merlin, I’m out of shape!”

“Myrtle didn’t say she was out of shape,” I said looking at her like she was crazy, “How can a ghost be out of shape?”

“No! I’m saying I’m out of shape,” she said rolling her eyes, “You told me Myrtle said she had overheard someone come into her bathroom and say they were going to ask you out before someone else did? Remember?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot all about that,” I nodded.

“And remember you asked me to do my research?” she said.

I chuckled, “Yes, you’re oh so canny super snooper ability.”

“Laugh if you will,” she said narrowing her eyes, “I know more than any of you! Anyways, I figured it had been Harry since, you know he asked you out and all. But I didn’t give up. I heard from Alexis, who heard from Gracie, who heard from Merigold Hathaway, you remember her? The one I said looked like a rat and fell off her broom my first year in our flying classes before we had even kicked off?” She screwed her face up into an impression of a rat.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Emmy, get to the point!” I exasperated, “You know I don’t follow your ‘he-said she-said’ stuff.”

“Fine!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up, “It was Fred, telling George.”

“What?!” I shouted.

She quickly covered my mouth up with her hand and hissed, “Shhhh! Jeez! Announce it why don’t you?!”

I shoved her hand away and looked at her curiously, “And again, as always, I believe you are mistaken.”

“Why do you always doubt me? Why?!” she said looking rather frustrated, “I was right about Gregory Harkins, I was right about Wood, I KNEW what was going on with Harry and was trying to sort things out… And yet you still sit here doubting me. WHY?!”

I laughed at her, “Those were lucky shots, Em. This is Fred were talking about! We’re best friends! No, not just friends like the Wood thing, we are best mates. He doesn’t like me like that.”

She shook her head sadly and sighed, “Oh, Briley. You’re as thick as a cauldron, I’m afraid. Just wait and see. When I’m four for four, you owe me and I deserve an official statement in writing that I was right… NUMEROUS TIMES. And I want it signed and dated.”

“Fine,” I nodded, “You’re on.”

“Ok, it’s a bet White,” she huffed, “Well I better get going or Dad and Abe will think I ran off… well, you know what I mean. I’ll see you!”

She quickly hugged me and dashed back down the stairs. I shook my head as I watched her vanish from sight and walked back into the small box.

“So what was the big news?” Fred asked, not taking his eyes out of his Omniculars as he scanned the stadium.

“Oh,” I stammered, “Uh, Wood got signed to Puddlemere United.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” he exclaimed.

I tilted my head curiously as I watched him. Emily was mistaken, of this I was sure. Fred and I were best mates; that was all. The idea of him wanting to date me was silly; absurd really. I’m sure it would have been known well before now. I mean, even if it was true by some weird chance, he had had a million chances to say something when I wasn’t even talking to Harry. Ah ha, I thought to myself, a valid point I can throw in Emily’s face.

The box began to slowly fill with the other occupants as they took their seats. Mr. Weasley shook hands with many of what seemed to be very important wizards as they filed in; Percy jumping to his feet at every chance. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, entered, accompanied by the Bulgarian Minster. Percy leapt to his feet so quickly he tripped and hit the ground. He stammered to his feet and sat back down; red as a beet and did not get up again. Mr. Weasley shook the Minister’s hand; Percy shot Harry jealous looks as the Minister shook his hand and greeted him like an old friend and began to introduce him to the wizards around him. He attempted to introduce the Bulgarian Minister but failed, shaking his head, “… you know, Harry Potter! Defeated You-Know-Who! Surely you know who that….”

The Bulgarian Minister’s eyes twitched up to see Harry’s scar upon his forehead through his untidy dark hair; he immediately began rambling with his partner.

“Knew we’d get there at some point or another,” he shook his head, “Been doing this all day... doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. Ah – and here’s Lucius!” the Minster said, clapping his hands together.

I let out a groan as I rolled my eyes; Harry, Hermione, Ron and I turning around. Fred snapped his head around and narrowed his eyes as he spotted Draco. Fred had never been a fan of Draco, but since his scuffle with him in the Great Hall over his snide remarks about him and me, Fred’s dislike for him had hit a mounding peak.

Mr. Malfoy and his family filed into the second row and into the three empty seats directly behind Fred, George and I.

The Minister began trying to introduce him to the Bulgarian Minister without prevail before giving up once more, “I daresay you know Arthur?”

“Goodness, Arthur,” Mr. Malfoy said clicking his tongue as he eyed each of us, “Top Box? What did you sell? I presume your home wouldn’t fetch enough to cover this.”

I stood to my feet immediately, “Nothing, but you’d know all about selling something to get somewhere wouldn’t you? I’m sure your soul doesn’t carry a heavy price either, does it?”

Mr. Weasley snagged me by my arm and jerked me back down into my seat, shooting me a daring look. Mr. Malfoy’s features narrowed as Draco clenched his fist. I smiled slyly at them and nodded before turning back around. Harry took my hand and smiled, “Another reason I like you,” he whispered.

I beamed at him and squeezed his hand, “Why? Cause I’m mean?”

“No, because you don’t take crap from anyone,” he replied, leaning over and pecking me on my cheek.

The Minister hadn’t been paying attention in the least began talking to the two as if no words had been exchanged.

Moments later, Ludo Bagman burst into the Top Box, looking merrier than ever, hid gold filled pockets jingling even more than they had been earlier.

“Ready, Minister?” he asked excitedly.

“Whenever you are, Ludo,” Fudge said, nodding to him.

Mr. Bagman pulled his wand out of his robe pocket and pointed it to his throat as he muttered, “Sonorus!”

When he spoke again, his voice boomed over the crowd below them, echoing from every corner of the stadium, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen… to the four hundred and forty second Quidditch World Cup!”

The crowd screamed and roared with cheers as they clapped and waved their flags feverishly in the air.

“And now,” Mr. Bagman’s voice boomed, “Without further ado, give a warm welcome for the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

We all sat forward in our seats to see who they had brought. George let out a hoop of joy before scooting further on the edge of his seat and sticking his Omniculars so hard to his face I was sure he was going to cut off the circulation around his eyes, “Veela!”

“What?” I said.

But my question had been answered. The most beautiful women I had ever seen were now gliding across the field, their luminous white-gold hair fluttering behind them, yet there was seemingly no wind blowing. Their pale skin emitted a radiant yet eerie glow.

“Holy cow,” I said, picking up my Omniculars, “They’re gorgeous!”

I watched them curiously as the music started and they began to dance. The crowd went silent as every person watched the beautiful women – or were they? – dance along the field, faster and faster.
As suddenly as it had begun, they stopped. The crowd roared with rage and shouts of fury, wanting them to continue. I raised my eyes up as I pulled the Omniculars from my face to see Fred, George, Ron and Harry plastered at the edge of the box looking longingly down at them.

“What are you doing?” Hermione snapped.

Her voice seemed to snap them back into reality as they all shook their heads as the veela made their way to the side of the field. They walked back to their seats and sat down, all looking highly embarrassed.

“Honestly!” Hermione said as she made a loud tutting noise.

“You can’t blame them, Hermione,” I said, shaking my head, “They are very pretty.”

“See!” Ron said, looking at her.

She cut him a look of fury and he looked away immediately. Harry’s cheeks were flushed when I glanced over at him. He didn’t look back at me, he kept his glare straight ahead, and not towards the Veela, I noticed.

“And now!” Mr. Bagman’s voice boomed, “The Ireland National Team Mascots!”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, a huge green-and-gold comet whizzed through the air and into the stadium. It did one lap around the stadium before it divided and each soared to the opposite ends of the field, a bright rainbow connecting it. We all cheered and aahhhed as we watched the display. As the rainbow faded the two divided beams of light reunited and formed a large shamrock. It glided over the stadium as the crowd went wild. What seemed to be gold rain was falling from it. As it approached overhead I squinted to see closer.

“Leprechauns!” I said, bouncing with excitement.

The shamrock was compiled for tiny little leprechauns each holding a light of green or gold. The gold rain began to shower down all around; as it clinked and fell around us, we noticed it was large golden coins. Ron snatched his share up quickly and shoved it into his pocket.

“Excellent!” he yelled, watching the display with amazement.

The large shamrock disappeared as the individual leprechauns drifted down to the opposite side of the field as the veela and settled themselves down, Indian-style as they hovered in the air, to enjoy the match.

“Brilliant!” Mr. Bagman boomed, “Now, kindly welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov! Zograf! Volkov! Leviski! Ivanova! Vulchanov! AND KRUM!”

“There he is! That’s him!” Ron yelled, watching Krum intently through his Omniculars.

I placed my Omniculars to my face and watched the scarlet robed players whiz around the field, pumping their fists in the air and cheering as the crowd of scarlet donning fans yelled with applause.

“And now, the Irish National Quidditch Team!” Bagman yelled, “Introducing – Ryan! Mullet! Quigley! Connolly! Troy! Moran! And LYNCH!”

The green robed specs flew into the field as their names were called.

“Ohhhh, Lynch is pretty!” I said, twirling the dial on my Omniculars to zoom in even more.

I pulled them from my face to see Harry and Ron staring at me.

“What?” I said, shrugging, “You lot got Veelas, I can look at Lynch!”

“She’s got a point,” Ron shrugged looking at Harry.

“And all the way from Egypt, our referee, Hassan Mostafa!”

A small skinny wizard made his way to the center of the pitch. He mounted his broom and kicked open the large box containing the Quaffle, Bludgers and Snitch.

“AND THEY’RE OFF!” Bagman bellowed.

It was Quidditch like I had never seen before. My only experience with Quidditch had been confined to the Hogwarts grounds. I had never even witnessed a match besides the ones Gryffindor were not playing. The Irish Chasers were superb; it didn’t take a genius or Quidditch fanatic to spot this. The way they were moving and coordinating, it was like they were reading each others’ minds as they seamlessly moved along the field. Within the first thirty minutes of the game, Ireland had scored three times, bringing it thirty-zero. As the game progressed, it became more brutal. The Bulgarian Beaters were whacking the Bludgers with everything they had in them, forcing the Irish Chasers, though as superb as they were, to be forced to scatter and losing quite a bit of leeway in their well earned lead. The Bulgarian Chaser, Ivanova, managed to dodge the Irish Keeper, giving Bulgaria their first goal.

Suddenly the hundred thousand spectators gasped as Krum and Lynch could be seen diving down the middle of the field, dodging a Bludger as they zoomed through a mass of Chasers.

“Oh Merlin,” I said, pressing my Omniculars to my face as hard as I could, “They’re going to crash!”

I grabbed Harry’s wrist as I watched on pins and needles. Suddenly Krum bolted out of the dive, sending Lynch hurling forward and into the ground with a loud sickening thud that echoed through the stadium.

“OUCH!” I bellowed, cringing.

“He’ll be ok,” Charlie said, peering down the row and laughing at me, “He only got plowed a bit. It’s exactly what Krum was wanting. Look at him, taking the time to look for the Snitch without interference.”

I pushed my Omniculars back to my face and focused in on Krum. He was indeed circling high over Lynch who was being aided by mediwizards below, scanning the grounds for the Snitch.

Fifteen more action packed minutes passed; Ireland squeezing in ten more beautifully executed goals bringing the score now to one hundred and thirty to ten. The dirty game continued on. Ireland was awarded three penalties almost back to back, one for excessive use of elbows against the Bulgarian Keeper and two for the Bulgarian Beaters who angrily began arguing with the referee after the Veelas had entranced him and he demanded they leave the field.

As they began to go for the penalties, the Bulgarian Beater clearly didn’t care whether it was a Bludger he was hitting or a human. As his club collided with the Irish Chaser, the collective roar of “Foul!” could be heard from the Irish supporters mingled in with their shouts of joy that two out of three of the penalty shots were a success.

“That would be a foul!” Mr. Bagman roared, “Yes – there is the whistle.”

The leprechauns gleefully flew up into the air and formed a particularly rude hand gesture towards the Veelas. Instead of dancing, as they had every other time the leprechauns had formed, the others being simply words, they began tearing across the field, throwing what seemed like fistfuls of fire balls. I zoomed in with my Omniculars to see the once beautiful Veelas were no longer very pretty in the least. Their faces had screwed up into beak-like bird heads as large scaly wings were protruding from their shoulders.

“Oh my!” I proclaimed, taking the Omniculars away from my face, my mouth opened in shock.

“And that, boys,” Mr. Wealsey said, with a smug smile, “is why you never go for looks alone.”

“Please don’t ever do that if I make you mad,” Harry said chuckling as the crowd yelped with joy again; Ireland had scored another penalty, bringing the score to one hundred and sixty to ten.

I smiled slyly at him before placing the Omniculars back to my eyes, “I’m going to have rings around my eyes from these bloody things.”

“It’s ok,” I heard Fred say from beside me; “I’ll just call you Coonie.”

I nudged him with my elbow as he laughed. As the Ministry wizards attempted to separate the veela and leprechauns, I didn’t even see the goal for Ireland as the crowd went wild.

“Bloody hell,” I said, clicking my tongue, “They are moving like the speed of light, I can’t keep up! OH MY! KRUM JUST TOOK THAT BLUDGER TO THE FACE!”

Krum was covered in blood as it dripping down his front, barely visible against his scarlet robes. As suddenly as the Bludger had smacked him in the face, there was a collective gasp that filled the stadium. Lynch had gone into a dive. Krum, though nose broken and drenched with blood, hurled after him. He gained on Lynch, quickly becoming level with him. This was no feint, this was the real thing.

“They’re going to crash!” Hermione screamed.

“Ohhhhhh, LYNCH IS!” I yelled as another sickening thud of the Irish Seeker echoed along the stadium.

“Where’s the Snitch?!” Bill yelled, now standing and looking around wildly.

“HE’S GOT IT!” I screamed, jumping up from my seat.

“KRUM HAS IT!” Ron bellowed, rising to his feet as well.

The scoreboard across from us flashed its gold letters: BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND 170.

“AHHHH!!!!” I yelled, pumping my fist into the air.

“IRELAND WINS!” Mr. Bagman’s voice bellowed across the stadium as a sea of green clad Irish supporters began jumping and screaming with joy, “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS!”

“Vell, ve vought vell, all ze way to ze end,” a gloomy voice said behind us all.

I turned around to see the Bulgarian Minister shaking his head sadly, yet Cornelius Fudge wore a look of utter shock.

“You speak English?” he shouted, “You’ve been letting me act a fool, trying to mime things all day?”

“Vell, it vas very very vunny, Minister,” the gloomy voice man said with a smile.

I laughed hysterically at the look of shock upon Fudge’s face.

“And now, the Quidditch World Cup is brought into the Top Box!” Bagman bellowed as Omniculars all over the stadium jolted in our direction as Ireland finished their victory lap, “Give a round of applause for the gallant losers, Bulgaria!”

The room was illuminated with the dazzling white glow the Quidditch Cup emitted as the seven Bulgarians now filed into the top box. I turned to glared, wide eyed as I saw them one by one file between the two rows of seats within the box, just behind us. Bagman called each of their names as they shook hands with him, their own Minister and then Fudge, before shaking each of our own; the earsplitting yell once Krum’s was called echoed like a thunderous roar. He seemed quite unstable on ground compared to in air; his face still soaked with scarlet blood.

Finally the Irish team filed in, Aidan Lynch was being supported by Ryan and Mullet; the second crash had clearly rattled him. I watched him dreamily as he filed between the row behind Fred and I. He glanced around at everyone in the box, including me; when he did, it felt like a silly school girl crush as my heart seemed to stop. I smiled weakly at him; he turned around to look at the Cup just ask Ron reached across Harry and whapped me on the back of the head.

“Ow, twit!” I hissed at him, “I didn’t smack you when you were drooling looking like you were going to dive from the box!”

He shrugged and grinned.

As the Quidditch World Cup was passed to them, the roar of applause was deafening even compared to the one for Krum.

They filed out of the Top Box for another victory lap as Bagman pointed his wand to his throat once again and muttered, “Quietus.”

“Talking about this one for years they will,” he said rather hoarsely, “No one could have seen that coming… Ah, yes, actually there was…. I owe you lot.”

Fred and George had jumped to their feet and bounced over their seats and now stood before him, broad grins on their faces and their hands outstretched. I turned around in my seat to face him also, grinning as broadly as the twins’ and put my hand out as well.

“How much again?” he said shaking his head, “Never dreamed you three would be right, of all the bets.”