One Of A Kind ||A Fred Weasley Fanfiction||

5. The Quidditch World Cup

Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. You could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; You couldn't stop grinning. You all walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last you emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though you could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, you could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"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 through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last you 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, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which you could never have imagined.

"This is amazing!" You squealed with excitement.

"It is, isn't it?" Fred said from your right, nodding.

"And after this we will be rich!" George high-fived his twin. You chuckled, shaking your head.

Suddenly, you heard Mr. Crouch talked with someone you hoped you didn't see - the Malfoys right behind you. Yes, you may be related to them but every time you saw them, you felt uncomfortable. It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other. 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.

"How come?" You muttered, unfortunately for you Mr. Malfoy heard you and he looked at your way.

"Ah, (y/n), what a surprise...With the Weasleys again..." He gestured to the red heads. Draco stared at you, grinning.

You didn't say anything, because you knew that Mr. Weasley didn't want you to be involved. He raised you as if you were his own and you considered him as a father figure. He always looked out for you and you didn't want to disappoint him by talking back. You simply turned your attention back to the stadium, annoyed, waiting for the game to begin. After Mr. Malfoy and Draco left and Mr. Weasley walked over to you.

"You alright, (y/n)? I know you don't like the Malfoys -even if you're related to them." He kneeled infront of you.

"I'm alright, Arthur. I just don't like how he talks to you and the rest of you. If I could punch him and get away with it, I would. He's nothing but pathetic." You chuckled slightly, making Arthur chuckle as well and nodding before he turned back to his seat. The rest of the Weasleys and Hermione and Harry didn't say anything about the situation, it was for the best.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the stadium. "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. "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. A hundred women came glinding down the field. Veela... you thought. All the men were in awe, especially Ron. You rolled your eyes and took a quick glance at Fred who surprisingly wasn't looking at them but at the flier each one of us was given. You smiled and look back at the women dancing. The thought that Fred wasn't paying attention to them made your heart flutter. You smiled even more. Once the veelas were gone, the crowd shouted angrily, wanting for them to come back.