With all of them now dressed up in their merchandise, they stood in the tent, waiting for the signal that the game will soon begin. Sure enough, a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.
"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. "Come on, let's go!"
Clutching their purchases from the stores that they had visited earlier after Ludo's visit, Mr Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the woods, 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 infectious; Kirra 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 Kirra could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, she could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it. "Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley.
"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 remembered 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.
"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.
Fred and George kept Kirra close between them, worried that they would lose her in the crowd. 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 goalposts.
About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Kirra, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined.
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, almost at Kirra's eye 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; watching it, Kirra saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.
Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet-covered, tasselled program. "A display from the team mascots will precede the match,' " she read aloud.
"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show." The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.
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Fudge had arrived a few minutes prior and was talking to Harry and Kirra as if they were good friends, "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat. . . . Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places . . . ah, and here's Lucius!"
Kirra, Harry, 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; Mattheo and a woman Kirra supposed must be Draco's mother and then she blinked a few times before realising who the woman was.
Narcissa Black... or Malfoy now. Kirra... or Emily, had gone to school momentarily with Narcissa, she was of course younger than Narcissa, but she had met all of the black sisters, and she wasn't a fan of any of them except for Andromeda.
Kirra couldn't even worry about Narcissa at the moment though because all she could seem to focus on was Mattheo Riddle, and the feeling of butterflies flying around in her stomach as she looked at him.
She felt warmth flow through her body and did a small excited jump that she couldn't refrain herself from. Mattheo hadn't noticed her yet since she was behind Harry, but he was wearing a sour look on his face that made the smile on Kirra's face falter slightly.
Lucius walked towards the Minister with his family following behind him, Kirra stepped out from behind her brother with a smile on her face and went to hug Mattheo but stopped when she noticed the look on his face.
"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? And this is Mattheo Riddle, he like a son to me"
Kirra was looking at Mattheo in confusion as he looked blankly over at her, he didn't smile at her even though they hadn't seen each other in weeks, he looked at her as if she meant nothing to him, as if she were vermin under his shoe.
Mattheo couldn't show it, but it broke his heart to act this cold towards the girl, as soon as he had saw her earlier, he wanted nothing more than for her to run into his arms, but he knew he couldn't allow that, but when he saw her joking around with Cedric Diggory.
His longing for her arms around him, was slightly pushed aside with a sickly feeling in his stomach as he glared daggers over at the Hufflepuff boy. Mattheos eyes had gone red in anger and he felt his fists clenching as he desired nothing more than to point his wand at Diggory and scare him so much that he wouldn't even think about Kirra again.
But instead, Mattheo had stormed away, muttering curse words about the Diggory boy as he went back to the Malfoys, but now here they were again, only this time she was aware of his presence.
Mattheo looked at her for a few moments before looking away, not being able to witness the sad and confused expression on her face any longer.
When Kirra watched him look away from her, she felt her heart pull in her chest, had she really done something so bad that he hated her now? Or was he embarrassed by her in front of his 'family'?
"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 Kirra 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. Kirra knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that and at this point, she was ready to deck the man in the face.
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 Kirra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.
Mattheo went to go to the seats too but Kirra rushed forwards and grabbed his arm softly in her hand, "Mattheo wha-"
Mattheo had snatched his arm from her grip with a cruel scowl on his face. He looked the girl up and down with a look of disgust on his face that made the girl want to curl up into a ball and cry, "Don't touch me you dirty half-blood"
Kirra stared at the boy in shock, her mouth dropped open and her arm slowly fell back to her side, her nose twitched slightly which Mattheo had noticed occurred every time she was about to cry. He wanted to hold her, apologise and explain his reasoning... but he couldn't.
"Mattheo I-"
"Don't talk to me either" he snapped and then turned away from the broken-looking girl and walked over to the Malfoys, taking a seat next to Lucious. Kirra noticed Draco giving Mattheo a small look before nodding his head and then they turned to the game.
Kirra stood there by herself for at least a minute, a million thoughts running through her head and her nose twitching. A shaky sigh fell from her lips as she went and sat back down, she was sitting between Charlie and Fred.
Her silence didn't go unseen as she was quickly questioned by the twins and Charlie, but she put on a faux smile and brushed it off, telling the three of them that she was perfectly okay and was just suffering from a small headache.
"Come on love, just tell us what's wrong" George whispered to her softly, a kind yet worried look on his face as he leaned over Fred to look at her properly
"I think Mattheo just broke up with me" she whispered out, the tears had finally come to her eyes and her cheeks had gone red as she stared down at her lap and played with the hair tie on her wrist, it had been the hair tie that Mattheo had gotten for her.
She tried her hardest to hold back her sobs but she couldn't help it as they fell out of her lips. George was the first one to shoot out of his chair and he knelt in front of her, grabbing her softly and picking her up, placing her in his lap and then sitting back down, holding her on his lap.
"I got you" he told her and she buried her head into his neck as small cries fell from her mouth. She was thankful that the cheering for the ground was so loud, because to other people, it would just look like they were cuddling, but the people who knew what was going on, could practically feel the pain shooting out of her.
"I got you. It's gonna be okay, you're going to be okay" he whispered to her softly and rubbed her back. Mattheo watched the scene from his seat, feeling so many different emotions at once. He knew she was crying, and it made him want to cry.
But why was that boy touching her? She was his. Nobody was allowed to touch Kirra Potter except for Mattheo Riddle, and everyone should have known that. Mattheo sent death glares towards the red-haired twin as he, Fred and Charlie comforted the girl
"Slimy gits," Charlie muttered as Kirra had finally calmed down a few minutes later and wiped her tears, putting a fake smile on her face, not wanting to ruin the night for everyone else. The next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.
"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "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 and Kirra couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement return.
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 WithEvery 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.
"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"
The veela had started to dance, and while almost every male in the stadium and some females had been staring at the Veela, Mattheo's eyes only focused on the girl in George Weasley's lap, and while doing so, he didn't fail to notice that he wasn't the only one looking at Kirra.
The music stopped. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.
"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."
"Huh?" said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field. Kirra and Hermione made a loud tutting noise, sharing looks of distaste.
"Honestly!" they said.
"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!" Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goalposts.
A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands.
Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it —"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats.
Squinting up at the shamrock, Kirra realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green. "Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.
"No point collecting it boys, it's just leprechaun gold" she informed the twins and Charlie who nodded their heads, grins on their faces
"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!" The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.
"Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — Krum!"
"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Kirra and the twins went to look at him over the rails. Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows.
He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen. "And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — Lynch!"
Seven green blurs swept onto the field; "And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field.
A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. They watched closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open —four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two blackBludgers, and (Kirra saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch.