Chapter Four: The Quidditch World Cup
As everyone was getting ready for the match that evening, they gave up all hope of hiding magic. Ministry workers apparently gave up as everyone was blatantly showing magic everywhere: Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of merchandise.
There were luminous rosettes—green for Ireland and red for Bulgaria—which were squealing the names of players. There were pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems when waved, and much, much more.
Harish couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the infectious atmosphere. He and Draco rushed forward, eager to spend their money. The twins, who had gamboled all of their allowances, only followed to have a look.
Draco bought an Irish rosette and hat, model Firebolt, along with a model of Viktor Krum; the player strolled across the palm of Draco's hand and scowled at the green rosette above him.
"Look at these," Harish said, walking over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, only they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.
"Omnioculars," the saleswizard informed them eagerly. "You can replay action…slow everything down…and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain—ten Galleons each."
"Wish I hadn't bought all this now," Draco said, gesturing to his own belongings.
"Four pairs," Harish told the wizard firmly.
"What?" all of the other boys asked at once.
"Don't bother—"
"We don't need—"
"I could just get more money from father!"
"Take it as a Christmas gift," Harish said, shoving a pair of Omnioculars into each of his friends' hands. "Though, it will have to last you about ten years."
"Fair enough," the twins replied, grinning.
Then they heard a deep, booming gong and green and red lanterns blazed into life among the trees, lighting a path to the field.
"Come on, boys," Sirius said. "It's about to start!"
They all hurried into the wood after Harish's godfather, clutching their purchases. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. They walked through the wood for half an hour, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves standing in the shadow of an immense stadium. Though Harish could only see a fraction of the ginormous gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten manors would fit comfortably inside it.
"Seats a hundred thousand," Harish heard someone nearby say.
Draco gaped.
"Prime seats!" the Ministry witch informed them at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, and as high as you can go."
The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. The group of five climbed upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. The party of Slytherins (and Sirius) kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point in the stadium and situated exactly halfway in between the golden goalposts. About twenty purple chairs stood in three rows, clad in purple cloth, and Harish led them into the front seats.
Below them were thousands and thousands of witches and wizards. Some of them wore flashing green rosettes and the roar of voices drifted up to the sky. A billboard, which was hovering opposite them, had golden writing dashing across it as though a giant's invisible hand was scrawling across it.
Harish watched it a moment, before turning to see who was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, which Harish immediately could tell was a house elf, had legs that were so short that they stuck out in front of it on the chair. It had long, batlike ears and its nose was large and round. As soon as it noticed Harish watching, it hid its face in its long fingers.
"Whose elf are you?" Harish asked.
"My name is Winky, sir!" the elf squeaked, looking up and quivering slightly. "Winky does not like heights but…Winky's master told her to save him a seat, so Winky did!"
Harish was about to retort that the elf, didn't answer properly, but it glanced at the edge of the box and hid its face again.
"So that's a house-elf?" Fred asked as they turned back around.
"They're weird things, aren't they," George commented.
"Dobby, our house elf, is weirder," Harish replied.
Harish was suddenly jerked forward as someone slid down the row behind them.
"I see you are still bragging about your money, Blake," someone said from behind them.
Harish turned to see Ron sitting down behind them.
"I see your manners are as non-existent as ever, Weasley," Harish said coolly as Neville sat down beside his friend.
Ron opened his mouth angrily, but Mr. Weasley slid into the row next.
"Not arguing, are we, boys?" he asked.
"No," Harish replied smoothly.
If glares could burn holes, Harish would have been a pile of ashes. Neville looked nervously between the two of them. A moment later, Bill slid into the row, followed by Percy and Charlie. Harish nodded his greeting and turned back around. A few minutes later, Draco's parents arrived and sat on the last two seats of the front row. They were followed by the Minister of Magic and a group of Bulgarian politicians.
"Ah, Fudge," Lucius said as he turned around and shook the Minister's hand. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"
"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said, smiling and bowing to Lucius. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk—Oblonsk—Mr.—well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying either, so never mind. And let's see who else—you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other. Even though their children were friends, they weren't exactly on the best of terms, themselves. Lucius's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.
"Good Lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
It was much like one of those moments when one of your parents say something annoying or blunt to one of your friends. Fred and George began looking angry while Draco looked slightly embarrassed. He tried to get his father to sit down, but he was ignored. Harish patted his friend's shoulder for his valiant effort.
Fudge, who wasn't listening and hadn't noticed this interaction, was saying, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."
"How—how nice," Mr. Weasley said with a strained smile.
Draco tugged on his father one last time. Swatting Draco's hand in annoyance, Lucius sat down, clutching his cane tightly.
"Sorry about that," Draco whispered to the twins.
They nodded at him and sent him a look that told the boy that it wasn't his fault. Next moment. Ludo Bagman charged into the box.
"Everyone ready?" he asked, his round face gleaming with excitement. "Minister—ready to go?"
"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge replied comfortably.
Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said, "Sonorous!" and then spoke over the roar of the crowd. His voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen…welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"
The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its advertisement for Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"
"What have they brought?" Sirius asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Veela!" he said, before hurriedly plugging his ears.
"What—"
But before Harish could ask about his godfather's strange antics, a hundred veela were gliding onto the field. Harish's jaw dropped open as he stared at the Veela…the most beautiful women Harish had ever seen. Sirius handed Harish's a pair of earplugs and he distractedly put them in. As the veelas' song was cut off completely, all daring thoughts that had been crossing his mind disappeared. Sirius raised an eyebrow at him before turning to look out at the stadium. Harish turned to see the twins. One had a foot propped up on the wall of the box, and the other was gazing dumbly at the veela. Draco, however, did not seem affected by them. He merely kept George from standing up while Harish pulled Fred back into his seat.
Sirius motion that it was safe and Harish pulled his earplugs out. The music had stopped and angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. But they were lining up on the side of the field.
"And now," Ludo Bagman roared. "kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!"
Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stands, then split in two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goalposts. A rainbow arched suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oohed and aahed appropriately. Now the rainbow had faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they formed a great shimmering shamrock in the sky. Something like gold rained down on the stands as the shamrock zoomed around them.
"Excellent!" Ron yelled behind them as it soared over them and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harish saw that it was actually made of hundreds of tiny bearded men with red vests, each carrying a green or gold lamp.
"Leprechauns!" Mr. Weasley said over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were fighting to get to gold coins that were under their chairs or in their neighbor's hats.
"There you go," Draco said, stuffing fistfuls of coins into Harish's hand. "Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present!"
The great shamrock dissolved as the leprechauns soared down and settled themselves cross legged on the field, opposite the veela.
"And now, ladies and gentleman kindly welcome—the Bulgarian National Team!"
And Bagman announced each of the players' names as scarlet figures shot onto the field, to wild applause of Bulgarian supporters. Then, he did the same for the Irish. Harish watched, his Omnioculars pressed to his face. He zoomed in and out, fiddling dials, and causing the announcement to replay. Before he sped it back to regular time, he caught a glimpse of the word "Firebolt" engraved in silver on each of the players' brooms.
The referee stepped onto the field wearing robes of gold that matched the stadium. He carried a box underneath his arm. Harish watched as the man released the balls and blew his whistle, signifying that the game had begun.