Courage

-42-

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat.

"Ah, here's Lucius!" said Fudge suddenly.

Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and Layla realised that the woman with them was Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, whom she recognised from the papers. The Malfoys, being one of the wealthiest pureplood families, were featured in the Daily Prophet every once in a while.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "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?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, 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 and Layla vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr Malfoy'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?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "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," said Mr Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Layla knew exactly what was making Mr Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Layla, Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Harry, Layla, and Hermione turned to face the field again.

Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming with excitement. "Minister — ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; 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 last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.