PRANKSTER [1] ↝ C. DIGGORY

twenty-four

"Told you I'd be seeing you soon." he said in greeting, and Clary couldn't help but smirk at his words.

"Lucky you," she said as Newt clapped the boy on his shoulder, pulling Cedric along with him and Vasantha after Arthur and Amos.

"Who's that?" Bill asked with a smirk.

"Didn't you hear?" Charlie asked, elbowing their eldest brother in the side and gesturing in the direction the other three had walked off in. "That's Cedric Diggory."

"Alright, well who's Cedric Diggory?" Bill asked then.

"He is." Clary said with a chuckle, gesturing in Cedric's direction once more.

"Over here!" Amos said as the men began to stand around an old boot laying in the middle of the grass, seeming as if it were only one wear away from falling to pieces. "Everyone, gather 'round!"

"Why is everyone standing around that old boot?" Clary could hear Harry asking Fred and George as she leaned down in front of the boot, her shoulder brushing lightly against Cedric's as the group gathered in tightly.

"That's not just any old boot, mate." Fred said.

"It's a Portkey." George added.

"What's a Portkey?" Harry asked, but was cut off by Amos's voice ringing through the forested area.

"Alright everybody, on the count of three!" Amos exclaimed. "One... two..."

Clary reached out for the boot, her right hand gripping the top of the worn, flimsy material shortly before Amos shouted the word three, and the group began to spin wildly as the boot lifted them off the ground and the teenagers began to scream in surprise, the loudest of which being Harry, who had never even heard of a Portkey before that morning. Clary was afraid to tear her eyes off the boot in front of her before she looked up to see the world spinning violently around her and then looked to her right to see Cedric watching her intently, a concerned look crossing his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I'm great." she lied through her teeth, focusing on the boot once again.

"Let go, kids!" Arthur exclaimed, and her jaw dropped as she brought her eyes back up to her father.

"What?" Hermione shrieked in surprise.

"Let go!" he called again, and Clary reluctantly let her hand slip away from the old Portkey, and she let out a scream as the fell through the air, unable to see the ground below.

All of a sudden, Clary landed on her back in the middle of a field, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her on impact. She looked around to see the rest of her siblings, Newt, Vasantha, Harry and Hermione all laying on the ground in the surrounding clearing, trying to catch their breath from falling from the sky above. As Clary rose up into a sitting position, she saw Arthur, Amos and Cedric gracefully landing on their feet from years of practice, and the latter instantly walked over to Clary, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.

"Thanks," she said, looking around as the sound of music began to reach her ears from over the hill ahead of them, and an excited grin spread across her face as she rushed forward, feet moving quickly to carry her up the hill and Cedric running behind her.

"Wait for us!" Vasantha called after Clary and Cedric, and Clary could hear their footsteps growing closer as the two caught up to them, the four friends reaching the top of the hill and slowing to a stop, taking in the scenery ahead of them with awestruck smiles.

As far as the eye could see, tents covered the area, housing witches and wizards from all over the world, leading up to a large arena being set up on the other end of the celebrations. Amidst the tents, fireworks were going off every minute, and Irish music reached their ears from the bottom of the hill. Everywhere she looked, witches and wizards were decked out in robes of green, black and red, eager to show their support for the teams that were to play that evening, Bulgaria and Ireland.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Arthur beamed as the rest of the group reached the top of the hill.

"Welcome, everybody." Amos said proudly. "To the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup."