The competing champions

Chapter 4.4 (The Quidditch World Cup)

They all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectous. Aurora 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 Aurora could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the pitch, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand." Said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. His mouth was agape as he stared at the pitch. "Ministry task force of five hunderd 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 remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again....Bless them." He added fondly, leading the way towards the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"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 upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. 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 of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Aurora, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the like of which she could never have imagined.

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

Aurora looked over her shoulder to see who else 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, 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 its hands.

"Dobby?" Said Harry incredulously. Aurora placed a hand on Harry's arm and shook her head. The tiny creature looked up and parted its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes, and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" Squeaked the tiny house-elf curiously, from between its fingers. Its voice was higher than Dobby's and Aurora suspected this one might be a female.

Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry and Aurora, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest. "Sorry," Harry told the elf. "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" Squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir....and you, sir..." her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am."

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" She said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.