Make Me.

Book 4 - Chapter 8

Mr. Weasley was in the lead, Ellie was teetering on Charlie's shoulders, everyone included was clutching their Quidditch merchandise, and they hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. Ellie couldn't hear much over the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, and snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; even for someone who didn't enjoy Quidditch, Ellie couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Ellie could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting everyone's awestruck looking faces. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remember urgent appointments and had to dash away again. . . bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

Ellie slid off of Charlie's shoulders and each of her hands was promptly grabbed, one by her father, the other by Fred.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away though doors into the stands to their left and right. Ellie was being tugged forward and back by each of her arms, but she didn't mind much. The Weasley's party 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 between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-glit chairs stood in two rows there. Ellie was shuffled down the front row of seats, looking down upon the pitch, wondering how she had ended up in a place like this.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, at Ellie's eyes level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again.

It flashed an advertisement across the field. Then another. Then another.

"The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built in Anti-Buglar Buzzer. . . Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! . . . Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade. . . "

Ellie was sitting in a mesmerized trance when a hand slapped her on the knee. It was Harry, from a few seats down. He had reached over three of four people and slapped her, hard. He had a very shocked look on his face, and he was looking behind her, nodding his head wildly to get Ellie to turn around and look.

The box was empty except for them, and one tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in it's hands. It was sporting a very familiar pair of long, batlike ears.

"Dobby?" Harry said incredulously once Ellie had seen the creature.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato.