Chapter 1
I was never one to be excited to wake up really early. However, today was different. Today, we are going to the Quidditch World Cup finale. I am not sure if I actually fell asleep last night. I was too excited, maybe then it does not really count as waking up early. I had just finished doing my hair, when my mom entered the room.
“Rora, you are going to be -” She broke off mid sentence when she noticed I was already fully dressed and ready to go.
“That excited?” I nod. That, my dear readers, was an understatement. You see, I may not be good at Quidditch myself, but I absolutely love it. If I have to believe my brother, I am too clumsy to be good at it. Sadly, that means I have not made it into the Hufflepuff team. My brother did though.
“Breakfast is ready downstairs. I will get your brother.” She said while she left my room. She did not have to tell me twice. One thing you should know about me, I love food.
When we left after breakfast, it was still dark outside. Dad had told me we would have to walk for quite a while. And yet, I was still surprised by the great distance we had to cover. Luckily, dad had planned a few small breaks during the hike. I am not sure I would have made it otherwise. We made it to the location of the portkey with enough time to spare to search for it.
~~~
“What are we looking for again?” I said, but my father was already searching. Deep within his own thoughts and did not hear me.
“Something that muggles would not consider picking up.” My brother answered for him instead.
“Ah yes, the all wise wizards have decided on what item a muggle would not consider picking up, because they understand muggles so well.” I said, with just a hint of sarcasm. I never understood why we have wizards deciding that. You see, wizards have no clue what muggles consider important enough to pick up. They do not even understand the meaning of most of their objects. How can one decide this, without that knowledge?
“Just help us search.” My brother said with a chuckle. Why couldn’t the Ministry just tell us what object the portkey would be?
“I hope a muggleborn made this decision.” I mumbled. At least they actually know something about them, having been one for a part of their lives. With no clue what I was looking for, I tried to search as best I could.
“Who do you think will win tonight?” I asked my brother after a while. He was a bit further away from me now so I was practically shouting.
“The Bulgarians.” He answered excitedly. Now, I know exactly why my brother wanted the Bulgarians to win, Krum. He is probably the best seaker at the moment. I would love to see him win the cup.
“Even though I hope that as well, I think the Irish will win. They just have the better team.” Ireland was incredibly strong. Krum is an amazing seaker, but the rest of his team is simply not as good. Bulgaria has the better seaker, but Ireland has the better team. It might just come down to the snitch. I suppose the Bulgarians have a higher chance of catching it. So they might just win after all. If the Irish won’t be able to score too many points.
“I guess we will see tonight. I am really hoping Krum will get the snitch.” It was quiet after that. I don’t even know how long we have been searching for when I found a moldy-looking boot.
“Hey dad, could this be it?”
~~~
I hate traveling by portkey. When we arrived at our destination, dad had to carry me to our tent because I was portkey sick. The worst nausea I have ever had in my life. Never again. It was the first time I traveled through portkey. How people can do this without feeling like they have to throw up their organs is a mystery to me. Dad was not faced by it at all. I expected that, with him having to do this frequently for work. My brother, on the other hand, was a surprise. He was just as unfaced by it as our father and I have to admit I was jealous. Luckily for me, the nausea left just half an hour before the game started. Dad told me some people will remain portkey sick for days. Now, that would have been a bummer. I would have missed the game.
We made our way through the woods, following a lantern lit trail with thousands of other people. The further we were removed from our tent, the more sounds we heard. People laughing, shouting in excitement, singing. It was infectious. After a while we emerged from the woods, to come face to face with a ginormous stadium. This was it. Only moments removed from the Quidditch World Cup finale. I could no longer contain my excitement. I was practically jumping up and down. When we made our way to our places, I ran into some of my friends from Hogwarts.
Dad had gotten us tickets pretty high up in the stands. We had a good view of the smooth pitch. I was going through the program, with my brother reading with me over my shoulder.
“A display of the team mascots will precede the match,” he read aloud. We both turn to our father with a questioning look.
“Oh, you will enjoy that. The teams bring native creatures with them for a show.” That does sound interesting. I wonder what kind of creatures.
“Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the finale of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”
I moved to the edge of my seat, searching for the source of the voice. Dad tapped my shoulder and pointed towards the man who was speaking, Ludo Bagman. People all around us started clapping and screaming. There was a big black screen showing BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian team Mascots!” There was an entire area filled with spectators wearing scarlet that started to roar.
“I wonder what they -” Dad stopped mid sentence. Pulled his hand through his hair and adjusted his clothes.
“Veela.” He sighed. Veela? I had never heard of them. About one hundred Veela were gliding out onto the pitch. They looked like women, beautiful women at that. But that wasn’t the strange part. The reaction of every single man in the stadium was what made me realise there was something different about Veela. It looked like they were in some kind of trance. Were they trying to impress the Veela? Once some of the men started going to the edges of the boxes, looking like they would jump, someone signaled to the Veela to leave. Angry jells started filling the stadium. That’s when my brother started moving towards the edge as well. I grabbed his arm.
“Are you mad!” I yelled at him. Either the contact or my voice seemed to get through to him. He blinked and looked around himself as if he just woke up and wasn’t sure where he was. He looked at me, confused.
“Are you back?” I asked him, still not sure what had gotten into him. He nod. My dad it seems wasn’t as affected. He was in a trance but at least he was not trying to commit suicide. The Veela moved to the edge of the field. No longer dancing or whatever it was they were doing.
“And now, kindly put your wand in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!” What looked like a big green comet zoomed into the stadium. It flew around the stadium and then split into two, each moving toward the goalposts. Then, a rainbow connect the two green comets. Just as fast as it appeared, the rainbow faded and the two comets of light reunited and merged. The giant comet turned into 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, coins.
“What are those?” I asked in wonder. I reached up, trying to catch some of the golden coins.
“Leprechauns.” Answered my father. The Shamrock disappeared and the Leprechauns moved to the other edge of the field. Ludo Bagman announced both national teams and then the game began.
