The Footsteps of my Father

The Footsteps of my Father

Chapter Eleven

-The Quidditch World Cup -

Sindaria looked around the stretch of misty moor that they had arrived on. In front of them stood a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one holding a large gold watch, and the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. They were dressed in Muggle clothing, though not very well. One of them wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes, and the other wore a kilt and poncho. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so tired.

"Morning, Basil," Gabriel said, handing the pipe to the kilted wizard, who threw it in a box containing other used Portkeys.

"Hello, Gabriel," Basil said tiredly. "Hang on, I'll find your campsite. . . Conner . . ." he muttered, looking at his parchment. "Okay, here we are. You'll be in the first field that you come to, about a fourth a mile's walk from here. The site manager's name is Mr. Roberts. And . . . Nott . . . okay, you'll also be in the first field."

"Thank you, Basil," Gabriel said and, following Gabriel and Mr. Nott, they began walking across the deserted moor, the mist making it difficult to see.

After about twenty or so minutes, a small stone cottage came into view. Behind it, Sindaria could see the shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of the large field toward a dark wood on the horizon.

She noticed a man standing in the doorway of the cottage, peering out at the tents. Sindaria could tell that this man was a Muggle; the only one for several acres. The man turned his head to look at Gabriel.

"Morning," Gabriel said brightly.

"Morning," the Muggle said tiredly.

"You are Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, and who're you?"

"Conner - we have a tent, booked a few days ago?"

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said, looking at a piece of paper attached to the door. "You've got the space about halfway up that slope. You'll be paying now?"

"Yes," Gabriel said, nodding. He pulled out a fold of Muggle money and paid the man.

Mr. Nott stepped forward. "Nott."

Mr. Roberts looked at the list and said, "You've got the space up by the woods."

Mr. Nott nodded and handed Mr. Roberts the fee.

"You know, it's never been this crowded," Mr. Roberts said, looking back at the moor. "People usually turn up . . . but there have been hundreds of pre-bookings."

"Really," Gabriel said.

"Seems to me like there's a big party going on or something . . ."

At that moment, a wizard Apparated next to the cottage and pointed his wand at Mr. Roberts. "Obliviate!" he said sharply.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts' eyes slid out of focus and a dreamy look filled his face. "Here's a map of the campsite," he said placidly, handing them the map.

"Thank you," Gabriel said and they stepped away.

Once they were out of ear-shot of the Muggle, the man that had Apparated turned to them. "We've been having a lot of trouble with him. He needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. Ludo Bagman isn't helping; strutting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles, not worry about all the anti-Muggles security." The wizard sighed. "I'll be glad when this is all over. See you later, Gabriel."

He Disapparated.

"Isn't Mr. Bagman the Head of Magical Games and Sports?" Alex asked.

Gabriel nodded. "Yes, but he has always been a bit lax about security. But, he is one of the best heads we have had; he played Quidditch for England, one of the best Beaters the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

As they walked up the slope towards their tents, Sindaria looked around at the tents. Most were ordinary, but some had chimneys or weather vanes. Then, of course, there were the tents that were so obviously magical that Sindaria couldn't believe no one had said anything. She saw one that looked like a castle, and then another with a front garden.

"Okay, here we are," Gabriel said, stopping at the bit of land where a small sign hammered into the ground read CONNER.

Sindaria watched in fascination as Gabriel pulled out a small bit of cloth and threw it onto the ground. Immediately, it sprung up into an ordinary Muggle tent.

"Is this big enough?" Sindaria asked, looking at the tent.

"Go inside," Sarah said, smiling.

Sindaria gave her an odd look, but complied and let out a cry of shock. Inside, there was a living room, a small kitchen, and three bedrooms attached at the back. She stumbled out. "It's huge!"

"Yes, of course," Gabriel said, smiling. "You did not think that all four of us would fit into one tiny room, now did you?"

Sindaria just shook her head, speechless.

Dominic, who has just seemed to finally grow entirely awake, said, "Ari, why don't we go walk around; check out everything. Then I can introduce you to some people that you'll be going to Hogwarts with."

Sindaria grinned. "That would be brilliant!"

"Wonderful idea, Dominic," Sarah said, smiling.

"Yes, excellent opportunity," Gabriel agreed. "I have some business with some of the Ministry officials, but I will be back by lunch. We can all meet up then and eat. Sound good?"

"Oh, yes," Dominic said, nodding and rubbing his stomach. "Food."

Everyone laughed and Dominic led Sindaria away.

"Okay, well, let's see . . . you already know Alex and Brandon . . . and Malcolm . . ." Dominic bit his lip, thinking. "Who else would be here right now? Oh! I know! Karl and Blaise should be here."

Sindaria followed Dominic past a tent where two young witches were making a fire that turned multiple shades of color with their wands, and then past a very large tent with three African wizards sitting outside, wearing long white robes and roasting something on a bright purple fire. She spotted a few American witches, chatting together and was amused at how some of the witches and wizards were attempting to cook breakfast. One wizard was trying to strike a match from a matchbox and, when he failed, took out his wand, looked around, and formed a fire.

Sindaria laughed quietly. "It's rather funny how hard it is for these people to do the simple things that I took for granted growing up with Muggles. I feel sorry for them."

Dominic smirked. "Well, I suppose lighting a match would seem very easy to you."

"Oy! Dominic!" they heard a voice cry. They stopped, turning around to see Malcolm and Graham running towards them.

"Malcolm! Graham! Hi!" Dominic said, smiling. He looked at Sindaria. "Have you meet Graham?"

Sindaria nodded, looking at the brown-haired boy. "I met him when I visited your parents. We played Quidditch."

"Oh, really?" Dominic said, raising an eyebrow. He looked at Graham. "How'd she do?"

"Not bad," Graham said with a smile.

"So, where are you both off to?" Malcolm asked as they began walking.

"I'm just checking out the campsite and introducing Ari to some of the people she'll be going to school with," Dominic answered.

Malcolm nodded. "Well, Draco won't be here for another few hours; you know how his father is; always wants to associate himself as little as possible."

Dominic laughed. "Oh, yes, that's Mr. Malfoy for you."

"Draco Malfoy?" Sindaria asked.

Dominic nodded. "Yes."

"Let's not go there," Graham said sourly, and they looked at him.

"What?" Sindaria asked in confusion, looking at Graham.

He pointed to a mass of bright green tents. "That's the Ireland supporters."

"You don't want Ireland to win?" Sindaria asked.

Graham raised an eyebrow. "With Krum as the Seeker for Bulgaria? Ireland will lose. What, you like Ireland or something?"

Sindaria shrugged. "I just go by what I hear people say. I don't have a preference either way."

Graham looked at her oddly and then shrugged. "Well, for my opinion, go for Bulgaria."

"Yes," Malcolm said.

"Good choice, Bulgaria. Willing to make a bet?" a voice asked and they stopped, turning to face a tall wizard wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched across a slightly large belly that looked out of place with his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion. He seemed very excited at the moment.

"Mr. Bagman!" Dominic said, smiling.

"You were a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, right?" Sindaria asked.

Ludo Bagman smiled. "Yes, that's right. So, any of you want to make a small bet?"

"Fifty Galleons; Ireland wins," Dominic said, handing Bagman the handful of Galleons.

"Fifty Galleons; Bulgaria wins," Graham said, smirking at Dominic and placing the pile of Galleons in Bagman's hands, who quickly put them in his robes and writing down their names on a notebook. He handed them slips of paper and turned to Sindaria.

"Are you going to bet?" he asked.

Sindaria shrugged and pulled out a sack-full of Galleons that the Conners had given her the previous night. "Forty Galleons; Ireland wins, but Krum gets the Snitch."

Her friends looked at her like she had just grown sixty feet with rabbit ears and a cat tail. "What?" she asked, looking around at them.

They just shrugged and she looked at Bagman, who was writing down the bet, after taking the money she had given him. "Well, that's one interesting bet. What's your name?"

"Sindaria."

"Okay . . . well, Sindaria, you reckon Ireland will win but Krum will get the Snitch?" He chuckled. "Funny, that's the second bet like that I've received today. You and the Weasley twins sure know how to bet against all odds." He straightened, handing her the piece of paper with her bet. "Good luck and I'll see you around." He grinned and headed off towards another prospective customer.

"Nice bet, Ari; I suppose we'll see what happens," Graham said, chuckling.

"What's wrong with it?" Sindaria asked, crossing her arms.

"Oh, just that Ireland is going to lose."

"I doubt that," Dominic said. "Ireland's front three are the strongest they've been in years."

"We'll see," was all that Graham said.

As they began walking towards Karl's tent, two boys, one tall, dark-haired, the other shorter with bright red hair, ran up to them. "Hiya, Dominic. Ready for the match?" the red-haired boy asked.

Dominic grinned. "Can't wait! Blaise, this is Ari." Blaise looked at her. "Ari, this is Blaise Zabini; he's starting his fourth-year in the fall. And the other is Karl Lanart, a sixth-year."

Sindaria nodded. "Nice to meet you."

Blaise grinned. "Likewise."

"Are you starting Hogwarts in the fall?" Karl asked.

"Next year," Sindaria answered.

Karl nodded and smiled. "Well, you've managed to find some good friends so far; I suppose we'll see what House you manage to be Sorted into."

"Which house are you in?" Sindaria asked.

"Oh, I'm in Slytherin. Actually, everyone here except Malcolm and Graham are Slytherins; of course, I'm sure that they'll be Sorted into our house, since their entire families have been in it."

Slytherins? Well, they don't seem that bad, Sindaria thought, smiling. I suppose all those rumors are rubbish after all; but . . . Voldemort came from Slytherin . . . oh, well, I'm just thinking up nonsense. Besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with these people.

"I suppose I'll just have to wait until the Sorting Ceremony to find out," Sindaria said, shrugging.

Karl nodded, smiling. "Just like everyone else. Well," he said, looking around. "I'm going to go see if I can't find Marcus or Adrian. They did graduate two years ago, but I doubt they'd miss this." He winked at Sindaria. "Hope to see you at our House table." He strode off and they began walking again, Blaise at their side.

"He's one of our prefects this year," Blaise said as they walked. "He's much better than that Weasley they had in Gryffindor a bit back; of course, my father complains that the Weasleys are always making trouble."

"You've got that right," Malcolm said.

"The Weasleys have too many children," Graham said sourly. "It's unbelievable. I mean, what they call a house is hardly anything."

"You know, they managed to get tickets for tonight," Blaise said, sneering. "Top Box too." He chuckled. "Draco's going to be thrilled."

"Top Box?" Dominic exclaimed, his eyebrows raised. "Bloody hell, we have good seats, but not up there!"

"Tell me about it," Malcolm grumbled.

"Draco has Top Box seats, though," Blaise said.

"You have to remember this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about; of course he has Top Box seats. His father wouldn't settle for anything less," Graham said.

"Oy!" a voice called out and they stopped, turning to see a boy with white-blond hair identical to Sindaria's, striding over to them.

"Hi, Draco," Dominic said. Draco stopped, looking at Sindaria, his mouth set in a bit of a smirk. He wore all black clothing, despite the heat of the day. His pale face contrasted sharply. How can he be wearing those clothes? I have shorts and a tank-top on and I can barely stand it. "Draco, this is Ari. Ari, this is Draco Malfoy."

"Hello," Sindaria said smiling.

Draco looked at her for a bit more and then he glanced at Dominic. "She a relation of yours?"

"Yes," Dominic said, giving Sindaria a look out of the corner of his eye.

Draco's eyebrows rose and then he shrugged, looking back at Sindaria, his eyes looking at her white-blond hair and her bright gray eyes. "Hi," he said finally. "So, have you been to a World Cup before?"

Sindaria shook her head. "First time for me."

Draco nodded slightly, a small smile forming on his face. "It's going to be a very interesting night."

An uneasy silence filled their area.

"Well," Dominic said finally, breaking the silence and looking around. "We have to go back for lunch. You want to join us?" Everyone nodded and they began walking back.

* * *

Eating lunch, they sat around the small fire that Sindaria had started, talking about Quidditch, the World Cup, the upcoming school year, and about their summers. Sindaria, who was sitting between Dominic and Draco, just listened for the most part, adding to the conversation if she felt that she knew what she was talking about, making sure she didn't reveal anything that would make them realize that she was Muggle-born. It was like sitting in a pit full of snakes; you had to watch every move, or you'd be bit and cast out.

They seem really nice. This is good. At least I'll have friends before I start school. That's always a plus. Sindaria took a bite of her sandwich and looked around at the multi-colored tents, smiling at all the varieties of witches and wizards that she saw walking around. This is so brilliant! I never realized anything like this could actually exist, and here I am, at a Quidditch World Cup, surrounded by magic! Her eyes stopped on a group of three that were walking around, talking to some people, but otherwise just looking at the variety of inhabitants.

"And you should have seen him!" Malcolm was saying, his face red with laughter. "He just didn't stop! Slammed right into the stands, he did! Didn't get hurt; just stood up and flew back out! It was wicked!"

They all laughed at this, including Sindaria, although she was still watching the three. The shorter of the two boys, with scraggly black hair and glasses, glanced in her direction and she could have sworn she saw a look of distaste cross his face. The tall red-head looked her way and sneered slightly, rolling his eyes. He whispered something to the boy, who nodded. The bushy-haired girl, however, was just looking at Sindaria with pure interest across her face. Her two friends whispered something to her and she shrugged. They disappeared out of view. What was that all about? Talk about rude!

"Don't let Weasley get on your nerves," Dominic said quietly.

Sindaria jumped slightly, not realizing that anyone had been paying attention to that little pass of looks. "What?"

"The red-haired kid that was giving you the look? That was a Weasley."

"What did I do?" Sindaria asked, looking at Dominic, who smiled.

"Oh, you didn't do anything. They probably were looking around, spotted you, someone they didn't recognize, and then saw that you were sitting around a fire with a bunch of Slytherins. They probably think that we recruited you into our ranks, or some other rubbish like that," Dominic said, rolling his eyes. He chuckled. "Those are the Gryffindors for you."

"Oh," Sindaria said softly, going back to her lunch.

"Don't get yourself too worked up," Dominic said. "The way I figure; if they're not your friends, why worry about their opinions?"

Sindaria shrugged. "I suppose. Who were the other two?"

Dominic looked thoughtful. "Let's see . . . Weasley, Granger . . . oh, and Potter."

"Harry Potter?" Sindaria asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dominic nodded. "The same."

"Let's not talk about Potter while I'm trying to eat," Draco grumbled. "You'll make me lose my appetite."

"Sorry," Dominic said, smiling. He leaned over to Sindaria and whispered, "Draco and Potter have been nemeses since day one. Always at each other's throats. Best to stay away from them when face off."

Sindaria smiled, nodding. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

* * *

Excitement filled the air, like electricity, as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the air itself seemed to by quivering with anticipation and as darkness spread over the thousands of waiting wizards, the Ministry finally gave up and bowed to the inevitable, as magic began breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of people's hands, preening themselves.

Dominic, Sindaria, Malcolm, Blaise, Alex, and Karl were strolling through the campsite, stopping every once and awhile to looked at what the salesmen offered. Sindaria finally gave in and bought a pair of Omnioculars that replayed action, slowed everything down, and would flash play-by-play breakdowns. Although Malcolm bought a Bulgarian flag, the rest of them bore their Irish flags.

They split up and as Dominic and Sindaria were nearing their tent, 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.

"Ready?" Gabriel asked, who was waiting outside the tent next to Sarah. They both had Irish hats and banners.

"Definitely!" Sindaria exclaimed and they hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. "This is going to be wicked!"

"That's an understatement," Dominic said with a laugh as they walked. All around them they could here the sounds of thousands of people moving around, shouts and laughter, and even snatches of singing. The atmosphere was alive with excitement, which was highly infectious.

I can't believe I'm actually going to a Quidditch World Cup! Sindaria thought excitedly as they walked. This is so brilliant! I love it; wouldn't trade it for anything! There is nothing that could darken my mood tonight! I can't wait for the match!

They finally emerged from the edge of the wood, finding themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Sindaria could only see a fraction of the gold walls that surrounded the stadium, but she knew that it had to be huge.

"This stadium seats a hundred thousand," Gabriel said, smiling at the awe-struck look on Sindaria's face. "There have been Ministry task forces working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here, they have suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again."

Dominic laughed, shrugging. "Whatever works."

"Are you ready to have a brilliant time, Ari?" Sarah asked, smiling.

"I don't think brilliant can even describe this!" Sindaria said, her eyes still wide.

They headed towards the nearest entrance, moving themselves into the swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"High seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Straight upstairs, last door on your right."

As they entered the stadium, Sindaria looked around in awe. The stairs were carpeted in rich purple and as they walked, the amount of people began filtering out. Once they reached the last door on the right, they entered and Sindaria was hit with a bright golden light. They walked through the aisle, past the individual seats and to the center, where they sat down; everyone, of course, except Sindaria, who was examining the stadium. They were in the middle of the stadium, situated halfway between the enormous golden goal posts. A golden light covered everything, seeming to come from the stadium itself. The oval field was surrounded by the rising stands and from this high altitude, the field looked smooth as velvet. At either end stood the enormous goal posts with three hoops that were at least fifty feat high; and straight head was a gigantic blackboard on which gold writing kept dashing across.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built- in Anti-Burglar Buzzer . . . Mrs. Shower's All -Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No pain, no stain! . . . Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade, Berlin . . .

"Amazing, isn't it?" Dominic's voice broke Sindaria's attention away from the advertisements and she looked at him.

"I don't have words to describe it," she said softly, looking back out at the field.

"Well, they always start with a parade of each team's mascots, which is always worth seeing."

"Really?" Sindaria asked, smiling. "Brilliant."

"Ari!" Sindaria turned to see Alex, Brandon, Blaise, and who had to be their fathers, walking over.

"Hi!" Sindaria said, smiling.

"Would you look at that? Seats right next to each other," Alex said, grinning.

"This is going to be brilliant!" Blaise exclaimed, his Irish banner waving in the slight breeze.

Sindaria glanced at the Mr. Nott, Mr. Zabini, Gabriel and Sarah, who seemed to be in a deep conversation. She turned her attention back to where her friends were standing.

". . . and I can't wait to see the Wronski Feint! Krum sure knows how to fly!" Brandon was saying.

"Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome!" a loud voice echoed over them. Sindaria recognized it as Ludo Bagman's. "Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Sindaria clapped and yelled loudly among the rest of the thousands of people present. Dominic was yelling and waving his flag and Alex was screaming himself hoarse.

Ahead of them, the blackboard wiped itself clean and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" The right side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they brought this time?" Brandon pondered, leaning forward to see over the sea of people. "Oh! Veela!"

Sindaria watched as about a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field. They were women with moon-bright skin and white-blond hair and they began to dance, their voices carrying out over the stadium.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dominic look ready to jump into the lower parts of the stands.

"Dominic!" she yelled and Dominic blinked, looking at her.

"Wh -Oh!" Dominic stepped back, rubbing his eyes. The music had stopped and angry yells were now filling the stadium. Obviously the crowd didn't want the veela to go. Brandon nearly threw his hat down into the stands, but Sindaria reached over and stopped him.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Brandon mumbled, blinking. He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts and looked down at the hat.

"Are you okay?"

"Veela have a power over men," Sarah explained, leaning over towards Sindaria, who nodded. "They befuddle men's minds."

"Oh."

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman as they sat back into their seats, "kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

In the next instant, what seemed to be a green and gold comet, came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light.

"Blimey," Sindaria whispered in awe, her eyes wide. Oohs and aahhs echoed throughout the stadium as a result of the 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 -

"Brilliant!" Alex yelled, as the heavy gold coins rained down, bouncing of seats and heads. As Sindaria inspected the shamrock closer, she realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vets, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Are those -" Sindaria began.

"Leprechauns!" Blaise yelled. "Wicked!"

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!"

"There he is!" Alex yelled, jumping up and down.

Sindaria brought up her Omnioculars and focused on the Bulgarian Seeker. Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an over-grown bird of prey and from what Sindaria knew of him, it was hard to believe that he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field and, using her Omnioculars, Sindaria saw that every one of them had a Firebolt and their names engraved in silver on their backs.

"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 huge mustache, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

Sindaria watched as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeey're OFF!" Ludo Bagman screamed. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was nothing like Sindaria had ever seen in her entire life. No book could have prepared her for this; it was so amazing. Thankfully she had her Omnioculars, or she would have hardly caught a thing. The speed of the players were incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

"TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. Sindaria cheered loudly, along with her friends. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

Dominic was jumping up and down, whistling, and Alex and Brandon were both waving their hands wildly in the air as Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Sindaria looked to where the leprechauns had formed the great, glittering shamrock.

Turning her attention back to the match, she was awe-struck at how perfect the Irish Chasers' moves were. She had read a lot about Quidditch, but even being a first time viewer, she could see that the Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves.

And, within ten minutes, Ireland has scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but now more brutal. The Bulgarian Beaters were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, one of the Bulgarian Chasers managed to break through the Irish ranks, dodging the Keeper and scoring Bulgaria's first goal.

"Plug your ears!" Gabriel shouted above the applause and the boys complied as the veelas began to dance and sing.

After a bit, the veela stopped dancing and Bulgaria had possession of the Quaffle. "Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

Everyone gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes.

Sindaria's eyes were wide. "They're going to crash!" she yelled.

But they didn't. Or at least one of them didn't. At the last second, Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. The Irish fans around Sindaria groaned.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed.

"Fool! He was feinting!" Brandon yelled.

"It's time-out!" Bagman yelled. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be alright. He just got ploughed," Blaise said, looking at Sindaria who had a look of horror on her face, staring down at Lynch. "Which, of course, is what Krum was after . . ."

Finally, much to Sindaria's relief, Lynch got to his feet and mounted his Firebolt, kicking back off into the air. Cheers and applause erupted in the Irish stands. The Irish Chasers moved into action so fast, it was extremely hard to follow; that was where her Omnioculars came in handy.

And, after fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game began to get dirtier.

As one of the Irish Chasers sped towards the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper flew out to meet her. Whatever happened at that moment, it was too fast for Sindaria to catch, but she heard angry yells and shouts come from the Irish stands around her and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast told her it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman yelled. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets, now sped together to formed the words "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and began to dance. All the boys around Sindaria immediately plugged their ears.

"Would you look at that!" Dominic cried, motioning with his elbow towards the pitch. Sindaria looked down and laughed as the referee, Mostafa, had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" Bagman called, though he sounded amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came running across the field; his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself, looking extremely embarrassed, and began shouting at the veela, who had now stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And, unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" Bagman yelled. "Now there's something we haven't seen before . . . Oh, this could turn nasty . . ."

And it did. The Bulgarian Beaters landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesturing toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words, "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Beaters' arguments, however, and he began jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted and the Bulgarian crowd howled in anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms . . . yes . . . there they go . . . and Troy takes the Quaffle . . ."

Play had now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy; the Bulgarian Beaters in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. One of the Bulgarian Chasers shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her boom.

"FOUL!" the Irish supporters screamed, standing as one. Alex and Blaise were both shaking their fists in the air angrily and Brandon looked ready to jump onto the pitch and strangle the Bulgarian Beaters. Dominic's face was bright red in anger and he was shouting loudly at the Beaters. Sindaria was angry, herself, and yelled loudly.

"Foul!" echoed Bagman's voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Sindaria saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -

"And that," Gabriel said, shaking his head, "is why you never go for outward appearances."

"My God," Sindaria whispered. Those veela are like things from nightmares!

Ministry wizards flooded out onto the field, trying to separate the leprechauns and veelas, but to no success. Meanwhile, the battle above was raging. Sindaria quickly turned her attention back to the match.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

However, the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians.

The game recommenced immediately, a Bulgarian Chaser had the Quaffle, passed to another, and then one of the Irish Beaters swung heavily at a passing Bludgers, hitting it as hard as possible towards Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

Sindaria winced. Oh my God! That had to be painful! This game is so brutal!

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken and there was blood everywhere, but Mostafa didn't blow his whistle, for he had become distracted as one of the veela threw a handful of fire at his broom and it caught on fire.

"Someone call a time-out!" someone behind Sindaria yelled.

Sindaria knew that Krum was on the opposing team, but she still wanted someone to realize that he had been injured.

"Look at Lynch!" Blaise yelled and Sindaria's attention went straight to the Irish Seeker as he went into a spectacular dive, and Sindaria knew that this was the real thing.

"Come on!" she screamed.

Half the crowed seemed to have finally realized what was happening, as the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on . . . but Krum was on his tail. They drew level and Sindaria held her breath.

"They're going to crash!" Alex yelled.

"No, they're not!" Blaise yelled.

"Lynch is!" Dominic screamed and he was right; for the second time, Lynch hit the ground full-force and was immediately stampeded by a swarm of angry veela.

"Where's the Snitch?" Brandon yelled.

"Krum's got it! It's over!" Dominic shouted.

Indeed, Krum, his robes shining red from the blood, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170. The crowd, which had gone silent, finally realized what had happened and the result was tremendous. It seemed like a jet plane had gone off in the middle of the stadium as the roar of the crowd grew louder and louder.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman yelled, who, like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord; I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

That's what I bet! Sindaria realized with a laugh. No way.

Out on the field, Krum could barely be seen, as he was swarmed by mediwizards and the leprechauns were zooming around the field excitedly. Krum's team members were all around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!"

Sindaria turned around to face the Top Box, which had been illuminated by a blinding white light. Two wizards held up the vast golden cup and handed it to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

Up the stairs and into the box, came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. Sindaria clapped along with the rest of the crowed appreciatively. One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. As Krum's name was announced, the entire stadium erupted into thunderous applause.

And then came the Irish team. Lynch was being supported by two of the Chasers; for the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes were slightly unfocused. But he grinned happily as the Beaters lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd thundered its approval. Sindaria's hands were turning bright red and beginning to go numb from clapping so hard.

At last, the Irish team left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms, with Lynch on the back of one of the Chaser's brooms, waving and grinning like mad.

* * *

"Oh, that was bloody brilliant!" Sindaria exclaimed as they made their way down the stairs.

"This was the best day of my life!" Alex exclaimed as they caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Singing surrounded them as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns.

When Gabriel, Sarah, Dominic, and Sindaria returned to their tent, they spoke excitedly about the match. However, after Sindaria had fallen asleep on Dominic's shoulder, he carried her to her room and went to his own.

She was dreaming of flying over the woods and then over a sparkling lake. It was a breathtaking view and then she saw the sun and flew towards it, hearing joyous laughter. Then, suddenly, the joyous laughter turned to hideous cackling, a high-pitched cackling, and the sun was overcome with a dark cloud.

"You cannot escape!" a cold voice cried.

"No, please!" she cried, but then a terrifying face overwhelmed her vision. It was pure white, with gleaming red eyes, and seemed mask-like.

"Ari! Wake up! NOW!"

"No, no, please! Let me go!" Sindaria mumbled in her sleep, thrashing around.

"I don't believe this," the voice muttered and suddenly something cold and wet hit her face.

Sindaria jerked away, bolting upright, sputtering and wiping the water from her face. Dominic's worried face filled her vision as he put away his wand. "What was that for?" she muttered angrily.

"We've got to get out of here! Come on!" He grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of bed.

Instantly, Sindaria knew something was wrong, for the noises of the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped and all she could hear was screams and the sounds of people running. Once they were outside, she saw Gabriel and Sarah, looking extremely worried. "We are going to help the Ministry. You two get into the woods as fast as you can!" Gabriel ordered and he and Sarah whipped out their wands, running off.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Sindaria and Dominic began running. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with their wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Sindaria's heart leapt in her throat and she froze with fear as she saw that these wizards were hooded in black cloaks and wore ghoulish masks, the very same mask she had seen in her dream. She looked around wildly, but Dominic was no where to be seen.

She looked back at the crowd, frozen in fear. High above the group, floating along in midair, were four struggling figures being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though these masked wizards on the grounds were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.

More wizards joined this group, laughing, and the marching crowd swelled. Tents were knocked flat or burned, blasted out of the way by wands.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Sindaria recognized Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three must be his family! How horrible! Sindaria thought, her mouth open in shock. She watched in horror as one of the marchers flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down, her nightdress falling down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below screeched and hooted with glee. Then, one of the marchers made the smallest Muggle spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground.

As the crowd drew closer, Sindaria struggled to find willpower to move, but she couldn't. She sucked in her breath as the crowd passed by her, the horrible masks gleaming in the light.

Suddenly, one of them stopped and turned, looking directly at Sindaria. Her breath caught in her throat and she tried to swallow, failing. Her heart skipped a few beats and her eyes were wide with fear. Although the yells and shouts drowned out most of the sound, she could have sworn that the masked man said in disbelief, "Sindaria?" Then, another one of the masked men grabbed the one that had spoken, muttering something, and they drew back into the crowd.

Suddenly the procession turned and began moving straight towards her. They know I'm a Muggle-born! Oh my God! Fear gripped her chest as her brain swirled with thoughts, trying to figure out something. She closed her eyes. Please, please, please, anything to get me out of here!

As the crowd passed by a row of burning tents, a snowy owl flew past them and into the woods.

* * *

Shivering with fear, Sindaria sat in a clearing, hugging her knees, and rocking back and forth. Where am I? What just happened? How did I get here? They're going to find me!

Then she heard a voice unlike any, for it was uttered and not panicked, saying something that sounded very much like a spell. "MORSMORDRE!"

Sindaria lifted her head, her eyes wide as something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness and flew up over the treetops and into the sky. As she looked closely, she realized that it was a colossal skull, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. It rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky.

The Dark Mark! she realized from what she had read about Voldemort's rise to power. It was his sign.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices and she saw a blinding series of flashes erupt over the clearing.

Suddenly a hand gripped her shoulder and she screamed. "It's me!" she heard Dominic whisper. "What are you doing here?"

He helped her to her feet but she collapsed, so he scooped her up into his arms, running. "They're after me," she whimpered and withdrew into unconsciousness.