Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Quidditch World Cup

"Ali." Alice's head jerked upwards from where it had been in danger of slipping into her bowl of cereal as Sirius entered the kitchen looking as though he had barely slept. He had taken to shortening her name over the last few weeks as the mood took him and she surprisingly found that she didn't mind; it gave her more of a sense of connection.

"S'matter?"

"Are you ready?" He grinned as she rubbed her eyes sleepily. "We should be getting off." She nodded rising from her seat and taking her bowl to the sink as she quickly shovelled the last of its contents into her mouth. Once she was done she followed him into the sitting room where she spotted Harry, his rucksack already packed and ready, standing by the fireplace. Actually on closer inspection it looked more as though he was leaning on the mantle for support, his eyes half closed as he tried to cram in a few extra moments of sleep. Next to him the clock read four.

"Mor-mor-morning," he yawned, straightening up as they entered. In his hands was a shallow wooden box which he held it out to her once she had located her own bag and jacket. She took a handful of the Floo-powder inside. "You can go first."

"Alright," she felt the soft grains rub gently against her palm as she tried to stop them spilling onto the carpet. With the fire already crackling away the room was pleasantly warm for so early in the morning; through a crack in the curtains she could see that outside the sun hadn't even given a thought to rising yet. She repressed a shudder, hoping that the kitchen at the Burrow was as snug. She hated being cold just after waking up. "Are you two sure you have everything you're going to need with you?"

"Yes Mum!" Her brother grinned at her and she smiled back, aware that she had asked him the same question about five times the previous evening.

"Right, ok then." She turned to face the fire place casting in her fistful of emerald powder as she did so. Instantly a sheet of bright green flames erupted casting an eerie light upon the white brick of the fireplace and walls of the room; it was what she imagined it might be like to find yourself deep under the lake at Hogwarts or at the bottom of the sea - though obviously not as dark. Taking a deep breath Alice stepped forward and, careful not to inhale a mouthful of soot, said: "The Burrow." She felt the familiar tugging sensation as the back of the fireplace disappeared from sight and she was whisked away into the whirling vortex of the Floo network. Barely a split second had passed before she found herself pitched violently forwards onto the flagstones of the Weasleys' kitchen. For a split second she lay there, hands pressed flat against the worn surface, trying to stop her head from spinning and regain her bearings.

"Morning Evans," she glanced up to see Fred Weasley peering down at her from where he sat at the table, "I know you're used to being shorter than everyone, but if you stay down there much longer someone is going to trip over you, or land on you when they come through the fireplace."

"Hey Fred," his twin's face appeared over the tabletop, "leave her alone, she might be comfortable down there."

"Ha ha." Alice scrambled to her feet, just as the fire behind her flared green and Harry came shooting out to land only inches from where she was now standing. She leant down and hauled her brother to his feet, quickly brushing the soot from him as she did so.

"I thought I heard someone arrive," Ron wandered into the kitchen looking half asleep, a pile of toast in one hand and a pair of socks in the other. "How -" he paused to yawn expansively as he sat down, "- how are you?" Alice watched in amusement for a few seconds as he tried to take a bite from his sock and put the toast onto his foot before realising what he was doing and switching them about.

"Fine," Harry sidestepped as Sirius suddenly appeared in the kitchen.

"Are we all ready then?" Her godfather asked straightening his jacket; the Floo journey seemed to have woken him up a bit and he now reminded her of an excitable child. "Or are we still waiting for people?"

"Hermione just arrived," Ron nodded towards the stairs, "she went upstairs to help Ginny with something. Girls' stuff," he added with a shrug, "I didn't ask."

Alice nodded and glanced at Harry; she could tell by the look on his face and the discrete glances he kept throwing towards the stairs that he was desperate to go up and see Hermione, but he held himself in place.

"Is your Dad going about boys?" Sirius asked as he swiped a piece of toast from George's plate.

"Yeah," his twin nodded towards the sitting room, "in there. He's probably checking we have all the tickets for the millionth time. Mum would kill him if he lost any of them."

"Ah, well if she does then I'll make sure to stand well back."

As her godfather left George shouted towards his retreating back: "Make sure you let us know if she does; we'll come and watch!" Sirius waved the toast in affirmation without looking back.

Once he had gone, Alice and Harry dropped their rucksacks on the floor and slid into empty seats next to Ron and the twins.

"Aren't Bill, Charlie and Percy coming today?" She had never met the two oldest Weasley brothers and she was curious about them.

"Yeah," Ron nodded down a corridor still shrouded in darkness. "Bill and Charlie are in Bill's old room, they're all apparating to the World Cup so they get to have a lie in. Lucky g -"

"Ron Weasley, how many times do I have to tell you to mind your language?!" Mrs Weasely bustled down the stairs, her arms laden with jumpers, hats and scarves, which she dumped on the table in front of them before scowling fiercely at her son. Behind her were Ginny and Hermione.

"Sorry, Mum," Ron mumbled as Harry flashed a brilliant smile at his girlfriend who gave Alice a quick hug and then went to stand casually next to him.

"Hmmph," Mrs Weasley clearly was not to be appeased so early in the morning. "Well, anyway everyone make sure you've got enough scarves and jumpers. It's cold outside and it will be again this evening when you're up at the top of the Stadium. I don't want any of you catching your death of cold." For a few moments there was a general surge of hands and arms as everyone scrabbled about on the table trying to locate suitably fitting attire.

"I think that one might be a bit overly ambitious Evans," Fred laughed as she held up a jumper that turned out to be massively too big for her. The arms dangled well below her knees and the neck was wide enough that she could easily have fit her entire body through it twice.

"Here you go," Hermione passed her a thick red fleece that looked to be of more appropriate dimensions, "that might fit." Alice smiled in gratitude at her friend.

"I've made you all some lunch too," Mrs Weasley added, starting to hand out wrapped packets of sandwiches, "I don't suppose that godfather of yours thought to make you any?" she enquired of Harry and Alice. "No, I didn't think so," she sighed when they replied in the negative. As she turned away Alice was sure she saw Ron's mother sigh and shake her head slightly.

"I don't think Mrs Weasley approves of Sirius very much," Hermione breathed in her ear so that only she could hear. Alice glanced at her and raised a questioning eyebrow to which Hermione responded with a shrug. It was just an observation she had made.

"Anyway, if you've all got - WHAT are those?!" The entire kitchen jumped and rattled, Alice and her friends included, as Mrs Weasley's mild mannered question became an outraged shriek.

"What are what?" Alice was unsurprised when it was the twins who responded. Their faces hastily arranged into an approximation of innocence which convinced no one, least of all their mother.

Around the corner of the sitting room door, Sirius and Mr Weasley's heads appeared. "Everything all right in here?"

"Arthur, get ready and stop admiring those tickets. You're going to be late," she snapped still advancing on the twins like an enraged dragon. Her eyes never left their face. "Empty your pockets."

"But Mum we -"

"Now." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. Slowly - painfully in Alice's opinion - the twins removed the contents of their pockets, of which they seemed to have many, and placed them on the table. Tiny, brightly coloured, boxes and what looked like boiled sweets littered the table. Alice concentrated on the weave of the wool in her gloves as she tried to tune out the tirade Mrs Weasley unleashed upon the boys, she could hear just enough still that she was aware the conversation, if it could be called that, had somehow moved from the items to the fact the twins hadn't gotten enough O.W.L.'s. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably as the twins scowled at their feet in silence. Eventually Mr Weasley reappeared.

"Now Molly," he tried to sound soothing, "we had better be off or we are going to be late. We can talk to them about this later," he continued speaking soothingly to her as everyone else rose to their feet and collected their rucksacks. On their way out the door they all received a frosty kiss from Ron's mother, with the exception of Fred and George who stalked past her with faces like thunder.

Once everyone was ready and assembled in the dark yard they set off slowly along the narrow lane heading towards the village. Alice trudged along behind George, keeping her feet fixed on his white trainers, the only bright spot in the surrounding black of the night. Leaving the ugly moment in the kitchen behind, all she concentrated on was putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over herself; doing that meant that at least part of her brain could go back to sleep as she walked. It wasn't until they skirted Ottery St Catchpole and the sun began to creep over the horizon that she began to waken up properly; probably something to do with the fact that she was now able to look at her surroundings. The rising sun threw a rose coloured glow over the hill as they began to climb and by the time they had all struggled breathlessly uphill the grass was aflame with colour. Pausing at the top to survey the land behind Alice concluded that it really was quite beautiful. So wrapped up was she in admiring the scenery that she missed something Mr Weasley said until her godfather elbowed her in the ribs.

"Oi, day-dreamer," he grinned at her, "fancy helping us look for this Portkey?"

With a nod she promptly turned and began stumbling around in the damp, dew laden grass with everyone else trying to locate any possible item of rubbish which might turn out to be a magical artefact. The ridiculousness of their position should a Muggle appear did not escape her.

"Found it yet?" Hermione asked her as the two of them found themselves hopefully searching the same bush.

"Nope, but then it could be anything, so how do we know when we -"

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Both girls looked around, trying to locate where the voice had come from, but then unable to see anyone followed the rest of the group towards a hollow on the far side of the hill. As Alice came over the rise of the hill the rays of the rising sun blinded her momentarily and she had to squint to make out the figures of two men, one of whom seemed to be waving a battered old boot above his head. She shielded her eyes and sped up to reach them.

"Morning, Arthur," the wizard with the boot, also in possession of an impressive beard full of brown bristles, waved at Mr Weasley as they approached. As they gathered round he suddenly seemed to notice Sirius at the back of the group, his face flushed a scarlet that had nothing to do with the sun which had now fully emerged above the horizon and he coughed awkwardly. "And… eh… good morning to you too, Mr Black."

Sirius returned the greeting and reached a hand forward, which after a second's hesitation the man did eventually shake. After a moment their arms dropped to their sides and the two men stared at each other, Alice thought she could detect a hint of amusement in her godfather's eyes, but the embarrassment was plain on the bearded man's face. Eventually Mr Weasley broke the tension.

"Children," he addressed the group jovially, "this is Amos Diggory; he works at the Ministry." The assembled group all mumbled varyingly awake greetings.

"Fine morning we've got here, Arthur," Mr Diggory continued, waving the boot towards the rising sun and cloudless sky as the laces flapped wildly. "It should be a good day. So… is this all of your brood then?" He motioned towards Alice and the Weasleys.

"These four are," Mr Weasley pointed towards his children, naming each in turn, "this is Alice E-Potter," he stumbled over her surname.

"Potter, is it? Ah yes," his eyes roved towards Harry and made the cursory flick upwards to examine his scar, "Merlin! And this must be Harry. Well, well… I've been reading a lot about you two recently. It's a pleasure to meet you… a real pleasure!" He peered curiously between Alice and her brother and she felt herself flush. When it became clear after a moment that neither of them were going to respond beyond a return of the sentiment, Mr Weasley cleared his throat loudly and finished by introducing Hermione.

"Have you met my son Cedric? He's at Hogwarts too you know, Hufflepuff. He's been made prefect this year, and he's Captain of the Quidditch team I'm sure you boys must have met before. He beat you last year didn't he Harry?" As he spoke he waved forward the other man behind him, who up until that point Alice really hadn't noticed and now realised wasn't a man at all, but a boy of around Fred and George's age. In fact, she considered, she had been aware that the Hufflepuff Captain was in the same year as them, but before this hadn't really given him much thought. "I said to him," Mr Diggory continued oblivious to the fact that he was making his son blush, "I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will... you beat Harry Potter!" Cedric glanced awkwardly towards Harry and the other Gryffindor players as he muttered something quietly to his father. "No need to be modest my boy," Diggory clapped him on the back making him stumble forward a pace, "you should be proud!" From the corner of her eye Alice could see her godfather smirk and she aimed a subtle elbow towards his ribs. He winked back. Beyond him she could see Fred and George frowning grumpily in the Hufflepuff's direction, evidently they hadn't forgiven him for their defeat the previous year.

"Dad, no one wants to talk about school when we're on holiday. It's nice to meet you," Cedric leant forwards to shake hands with Mr Weasley and Sirius - the latter without so much as a blink - and smiled amicably, if a little apologetically, at the rest of them. He had quite a nice smile Alice decided, it was warm and friendly and showed off his even white teeth. She studied him as the adults fell to discussing how much time they had till the Portkey left; brown hair flopped down over his forehead almost reaching a pair of startlingly bright grey eyes that regarded everything they saw very seriously. He was tall and dressed in muggle clothes, though unlike his father and Mr Weasley had managed a better job of it. Just as it crossed her mind that he was quite good looking, he glanced in her direction and she quickly glanced down at her feet, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up her cheeks.

"Right," Mr Weasley glanced at his watch, "that should be about ready. Shall we be off then?"

Alice glanced round at everyone else, unsure exactly what to do, she understood how a Portkey worked in theory, but she had never had cause to use one before. Watching everyone else stretch out a hand towards the filthy old boot she did likewise. In the split second before they were whisked away she just had time to think how ridiculous they all must look and how closely they were all packed together before she felt a sharp jerk behind her stomach and suddenly the whole lot of them were spinning off towards their destination. The sensation was rather similar to that of travelling by Floo except there seemed to be a lot more spinning involved and banging into those around you. She winced as Ginny's shoulder slammed into hers; she was going to be black and blue by the time they stopped. Then, just like that, the whirling stopped and she found herself toppling onto the floor in an ungainly heap along with everyone else.

"Are you alright, Al?" She blinked several times to try and curtail the spinning which seemed to have carried on inside her head and was making her vision swim. Once she could see again she noticed Sirius, who along with Cedric, his father and a very windswept Mr Weasley seemed to have maintained his footing, standing over her holding out his hand.

"Of course," she grabbed it and pulled herself upright, brushing the grass from her jeans as she did so. Around her the others were also clambering unsteadily to their feet. Ron looked distinctly green.

"Well," Mr Diggory was consulting a piece of parchment he had pulled from his pocket, "I think we're off in this direction. I suppose we'll probably see you later on at some point." He shook hands with Mr Weasley again. "Arthur, Mr Black," he nodded at her godfather, "Harry. Nice to meet you."

"And I think," Mr Weasley was examining his own map now, "we must be off this way." He strode off with Sirius, the rest of the group shambling dizzily along in their wake. As they went Alice took in the mass of tents they were passing through, witches and wizards of every nationality and peculiarity seemed to have crammed into the campsite for the occasion.

As they filed slowly along the rows of tents, dodging low flying brooms, children running in and out of their parents' feet, gaggles of witches wandering aimlessly too caught up in their conversation to pay attention to where they were going and who they were walking into, Alice gazed at everything with wide eyes. She was so caught up in the spectacle of it all that it took her a few moments to realise that she was getting more than a few curious looks back. She was usually only noticed after someone had spotted Harry and then, after the usual upward eye-flick to check his scar, picked her out from amongst the group. This was usually followed by urgent whispering to anyone who happened to be next to the onlooker. Of course her hair was red enough that to the casual observer she could pass as another Weasley, but it happened often enough that by the time they had stopped in front the tiny plot where they were to erect their tents she was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

It took them a while to work out how to put the structures together, she and Hermione had both been camping once before: Alice when she was eight and the Home had taken the children on an excursion to Dorset and Hermione with she had been in the Girl Guides. Harry had never been in his life, but like the girls had a vague idea of how it should be done, so between the three of them and with some over-excitable help from Mr Weasley, they eventually managed.

"Right then, this should be perfect!"

Alice glanced sceptically at her brother as Ron's father squeezed into the first of the shabby and dilapidated tents. Neither of them looked big enough to fit two people never mind all twelve of them. She had reckoned however, without the use of magic. She stopped dead just inside the canvas, her mouth agape and had to be gently pushed further in my George who was behind her. Instead of a tiny tented space there appeared to be an entire room complete with kitchen, sleeping area and a raft of comfy, if rather ancient, looking sofas. Alice grinned: sometimes she forgot how much she loved being a witch.

The four of them spent the morning exploring the campsite, where they ran into a few familiar faces from school and entertained themselves by trying to find the most resplendently bedecked tent - a difficult task as the Irish and Bulgarians seemed to be doing their utmost to try and outdo each other. As they walked they picked up a few souvenirs from the vendors that littered the campsite. Ron, who it turned out had been saving up, wanted to buy everything he could lay his hands on. Alice would have contented herself with an Ireland scarf and a pin-badge with Moran's name on it, but her brother insisted on buying each of them a pair of Omnioculars claiming: "It'll save me having to think of something for you at Christmas." They had just finished chatting to Seamus Finnigan and his rather intimidating mother, who they had bumped into in the Irish encampment, and were on their way back to the others when a tall, spindly man with a straggly brown beard that extended all the way to his waste bounded up to them. He was so thin, and his shoulders so hunched forwards, that the camera swinging wildly around his neck seemed almost too heavy and about to bend him in half. The tweed suit he was wearing seemed to hang from his shoulders as though he had forgotten to remove the coat-hanger when he got dressed that morning. As he stopped in front of them he rocked back and forth on his heels as if to punctuate every syllable.

"Hello," his avid gaze was fixed on Harry, performing the usual flick upwards to his scar. "My name is Arnold Constant," he grabbed her brother's hand and shook it with ferocious enthusiasm, "call me Arnie. Would I be right in thinking that you are Harry Potter?" He asked with feigned innocence - it was a stupid question considering that he had obviously already worked this out.

"Errr… yes," Harry replied, his eyes cautious as he slowly disentangled his hand.

"Splendid! Yes that's magnificent - super!"

Alice glanced at Hermione standing next to her and raised one eyebrow; Hermione smirked in response before quickly straightening her face.

"Can we help you, Mr -?"

"And that of course," Arnie ploughed on ignoring Harry's question, "must make you Alice." She suddenly found herself the object of his pale beady gaze and something clicked inside her head. The questions, the camera, the enthusiasm; she opened her mouth to ask, but Hermione beat her to it.

"Are you are a reporter?"

Affronted, Arnie Constant looked at her bushy haired friend intently as though memorising her appearance. "I," he began eventually, "am a journalist, Miss. I am no mere reporter! I write for Witch Weekly."

"Well I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse us," Harry made to walk away, "we're not giving interviews."

"Wait!" The lanky man jogged after them, a rather comical sight in one so tall. "Please! I can't go back to my boss with nothing - I'm already on a warning as it is; I'll lose my job if I don't get something. Please?" He clutched his camera to his tweed covered chest and looked at them so pitifully that Alice couldn't help but pause. "Even just a photo would do."

She was still wary and they were beginning to attract curious glances from passers by again. She looked questioningly at Harry. He looked at her for a moment before scrutinising Constant closely, then glanced at Hermione and Ron. They shrugged.

"It's up to you, mate."

Harry sighed. "Fine, one very quick photo, but only if you promise to leave us alone afterwards?" When the man nodded fervently, looking as though he had been reprieved of a death sentence, he moved to stand by Alice, putting his arm around her as he did so. Before either of them had a chance to smile they found themselves blinded by the flash of the camera and were enveloped in an acrid cloud of purple smoke.

Alice coughed and choked, wiping the tears from her stinging eyes.

"Oh, Merlin's beard! I am sorry; the stupid thing's old and broken, I can't get it to stop doing that." The spindly man flapped anxiously round about them, offering his handkerchief up for use. Alice refused it with an amused smile, he was beginning to remind her of an over eager puppy, all limbs and over-enthusiasm.

"That's alright; we're fine."

"I'm sorry," he repeated running a hand over his face that left smudgy black marks in its wake. "That's great though, I can definitely use that." Arnie beamed at them and for the first time Alice looked closely enough that she could see that, despite the beard, he could be much older than about twenty. "Thanks so much, I owe you both. If you ever need anything, just send me an owl." He shook all their hands again, even including Ron and Hermione. "Arnie Constant at Witch Weekly. Thanks!" And with a barely repressed skip he turned and strode off into the mass of tents.

"He's weird," Ron remarked sounding bemused.

"I don't know," Alice smiled at his retreating back as they started walking again, "I sort of liked him, even if he was a journalist."

"Hey Ron," Hermione broke in, changing the subject, "who's that talking to your Dad?" She nodded towards their tents which had just come into view. Outside one of them Mr Weasley was standing with the twins and all three of them seemed to be in deep conversation with a rather rotund man, with sandy blonde hair and an expression of jollity on his round, rosy cheeks. They seemed to be exchanging money.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "he probably works for the Ministry though, he looks familiar." As they approached the man turned away from the group with a cheerful wave and walked off in the direction of the stadium as Mr Weasley disappeared inside the tent. "What was that about?" Ron asked his brothers as they reached them.

"What?"

"Have you been spying on us Ronnie?"

"Because it's very impolite you know."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Who was the man you gave money to?"

"Ludo Bagman," Fred answered, "he's Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports. And we didn't give him money Evans, we invested it."

"How?" demanded Ron.

George looked at his brother. "We bet on the match."

"Gambling?" Hermione sounded scandalised but George ignored her.

"We said that we thought Krum would catch the snitch, but that Ireland would win."

"Do you think so?" Harry asked, a look of curiosity on his face.

"Of course. I mean, Krum is meant to be the best Seeker in the world, but then he's up against the Irish Chasers…" They all fell to discussing the possible outcome of the match, the various skills of the players and the tactics that each team might employ, with Alice and Harry explaining to Hermione the bits she didn't understand - which was a lot. They were still all eagerly discussing it as darkness fell and Sirius and Mr Weasley led them through the forest to the stadium. Ron's older brothers had joined them an hour or two before, swelling the group's numbers considerably, and as one they all made their way slowly up the many stairs of the enormous stadium. As she climbed Alice had to keep reminding herself to watch where she was going and not to trip over. Occasionally though she was so busy gaping round at the thousands of witches and wizards filing into the stands that she forgot and someone had to throw out a hand to catch her. A fall at this height wouldn't end prettily.

"This is us here." Alice was thankful when Mr Weasley finally ran out of stairs and stopped climbing. As they all filed into the top box after him she nearly tripped over Harry as he stopped suddenly in front of her, his back stiffening as he let out a slight hiss between his teeth. With a frown she stood on tiptoe to crane over his shoulder as Ron and Hermione jostled behind her. As she saw what had made her brother stop she had to repress a groan. Sitting sandwiched between two adults, who she vaguely recognised as his parents, was the back of a very familiar blonde head.

She gave Harry a gentle shove to get him moving again. They all filed slowly into their seats.

"Well if it isn't the latest wizarding sensations," Alice flushed as she felt Lucius Malfoy's gaze settle upon Harry and herself. "We should be honoured." The Gryffindors all glowered at Draco as he sniggered at his father's remark. "How generous of you to take them all out Arthur, I didn't know you could afford such extravagances." His chill grey eyes swept along the row of assorted Weasley's, passing over Hermione, Harry and Alice, until they settled on Sirius. For a split second his pupils seemed to contract in shock and his face went, if possible, even whiter. He swiftly regained his composure however. "Sirius, what an… unexpected pleasure to see you here." His wife, who up until that point had paid scant attention to the new arrivals turned her head so quickly that Alice felt her pristinely coiffed blonde hair was in danger of falling clean off of her head.

Sirius grunted noncommittally in response. He looked about at the other occupants of the box, spotting Cornelius Fudge at the same moment that Alice did. "Minister, lovely to see you again so soon." He nodded amiably at the other spectators who all seemed rather unsettled by the appearance of her godfather in the box. Alice spotted the younger Malfoy shifting uncomfortably in his seat and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards.

"So," as they all took their seats, Sirius twisted to face the Malfoy's behind him, an odd, reckless light in his eyes. "Cousin Narcissa, it's been a long time." Alice blinked then swivelled sharply to face Harry. Cousin? She hadn't known Sirius was related to the Malfoy's and judging by the stunned look on her brother's face neither had he. "This must be your son, is it? Dumbo… Drogo -"

"Draco," Narcissa Malfoy cut in, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Ah yes, that was it, Draco. I've heard a lot about him." Sirius smiled at them with a winning innocence which was entirely, and very obviously, feigned and was met with a wall of sour expressions. Behind her, Alice heard the twins snort quietly with laughter. "So how have you been Lucius, still rattling about in that big, old manor? It must get lonely now, not being able to invite your friends round. I hear most of them are rather… tied up these days," he grinned wickedly.

"I don't see that my social habits are any of your business, Black," Mr Malfoy attempted his usual laconic drawl, but couldn't quite seem to pull it off somehow. "I doubt you'd get an invite at any rate," Sirius had obviously touched a nerve, the elder Malfoy was reminding her very forcefully of an offended cat, his nose in the air and his back stiff with indignation. As he descended into a brittle silence Alice wasn't sure if she imagined the worried glance he threw in the direction of Cornelius Fudge. He needn't have worried, she thought, Fudge was far too busy with the Bulgarian Minister to worry about their conversation. When it became apparent that the Malfoy's weren't going to give him anything else to bait them with Sirius turned back in his seat and, catching Alice watching him, gave her a wink. She would have responded, but she was still too shell-shocked at finding out his connection to the Malfoy's. She had known that he hadn't looked fondly on his family growing up, but she hadn't realised that… Merlin, that almost made her related to Malfoy… almost.

There was too much going on in the stadium for her to think about it for long however, casting her eyes over the thousands of people assembled in the stands she tried to tune out the sound of Percy, who was now babbling pompously away to a Ministry official and casting hopeful glances in Fudge's direction every so often. Fudge however seemed more interested in Harry who he was now introducing to his Bulgarian companion, a smug smile plastered across his face.

"When do you suppose they'll start?" Hermione asked, joining her in peering eagerly over the edge of the box.

Alice shrugged, her eyes darting around as she took in the rows of green and red supporters, the adverts for every sort of magical appliance under the sun dashing across an enormous blackboard, the various Ministry officials who were discernible bustling about looking harassed amidst the revellers. It really was a sight to behold. She could have stared all day but eventually she became aware of a slight disturbance behind her and the portly, blonde man she had seen Mr Weasley and the twins speaking to earlier stood up and cleared his throat at a magically magnified volume.

"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four-hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" Every fibre of Alice's body thrummed with excitement at the words. "And now," he continued beaming out over the expectant crowd, "without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

Curiously Alice folded her arms over the edge of the box and rested her chin on them as she peered down at the hundred or so women that filed - or rather glided - onto the pitch. Except they weren't quite women, at least, not human ones anyway. Their skin had a pearlescent quality to it that made them almost glow in the moonlight. Their long blonde hair fluttered behind them as they began to dance, so that the entire body of women seemed to undulate and sway like a field of corn in the breeze. Even from this distance she could tell that they were beautiful, painfully and almost eerily so. She turned to ask Hermione what they were, but before she had even got the words out of her mouth she caught sight of the boys. Harry looked as though he was about to try and climb out of the box, Ron seemed to have decided just to throw himself out of it completely, one leg resting on the side; the twins were almost as far out of their seats as their eyeballs were from their head and even the usually restrained and uptight Percy was leaning forwards in an attitude of strained attention. As the music that had been playing stopped she reached forwards and took hold of Ron's jumper to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. With a chuckle she heard an irritated tut as Hermione pulled a disgruntled Harry back into his seat with rather more force than was necessary. Judging by the scowl on her best friend's face she evidently wasn't very impressed by the display.

"Veela," she heard her muttering, "honestly what a stupid… irresponsible…" the rest of her rant was drowned out by the roar of approval from the Irish fans as a green and gold rocket seemed to zoom around the stadium, dividing and coalescing in an aerial display of such speed and excitement, that she quickly forgot about the Veela. When an enormous green shamrock finally exploded into the sky and began to rain gold over the audience Alice found herself roaring hoarsely with excitement along with the thousands of other witches and wizards dressed in green.

"Leprechauns," Sirius leant over and shouted in her ear, barely audible over the thunderous cheering, rumbling around the stands, "they're fantastic aren't they?!" She could do nothing but grin broadly at him in response.

After that the match seemed to begin all at once, and Alice was too caught up in it to think any more. As the teams zoomed on she scanned the sky excitedly until she heard Moran's name being called; a thrill of excitement shot up her spine as she saw one of the players from her beloved team in the flesh. She decided there and then that it was a moment she would always remember.

Although she may have laughed at the boys for being on the edge of their seats when the Veela had been performing, Alice herself ended up doing exactly the same thing throughout the match without the aid of any enchantment. She followed every twist and turn of the game in minute detail through her Omnioculars, relishing in each dive and tumble; she gasped and winced along with every other person in the vast stadium when Lynch nearly impaled himself on his broom after a headlong dive towards the pitch, cheered with every goal the Irish Chasers scored, and looked on in mild amusement and surprise as the Bulgarian Mascots lost their temper and tried to attack the mass of Leprechauns. Then after what seemed like hours of exhilarating play she erupted in joy along with every other Ireland fan in the vicinity when Victor Krum finally caught the snitch ironically securing an Irish victory. As she cheered she peered through the air, which was now thick with Leprechauns and raining gold again, at the score board just to double-check that the result was there. BULGARIA: ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY. She grabbed Hermione in a delighted hug before proceeding to do her best imitation of an Irish jig.

They were still all whooping and yelling half an hour later when they had finally forced their way through the partying Irish and peeved Bulgarian fans thronging the stands and the forest around them.

"I mean, did you see the way Krum flew?" Ron asked them all as they got ready for bed; it was the four-hundredth time he had brought it up since the game had ended and there was an expression of rapt adoration on his face as he mimed the seeker's flight with his hand. "It was amazing, like a bird or something!"

"Yeah, he looks like one too," George chipped in, smirking at his brother.

"Not any more," Ginny piped up from where she was draping her souvenir scarf artistically over the end of her bed, "his face was really mashed up under all that blood. I'd say he looks more like a cabbage now."

"Well, so would you if you'd had a bludger try to blow a hole through your head at that speed!"

"Do you think he was alright?" Hermione looked mildly concerned for a moment.

"He'll be fine," Harry reassured her with a smile, giving her arm a quick squeeze, "they've got the best mediwizards in the country on hand to deal with stuff like that. You'd probably never know it had happened by now. Besides it was probably worth it for that piece of flying, it was amazing!"

Alice laughed softly as Hermione shuddered at the thought. "Ireland still won though!" She pointed out happily as she jumped into her bunk and pulled the blankets up to her chin to keep out the slight chill in the air that was creeping into the tent now that darkness had fallen.

"I still think the best part was the look on the Malfoys' faces when they saw Sirius," Harry laughed, "it was priceless!"

This set them all off on another round of hilarity, trying to do impressions of Sirius and the affronted Malfoys. Alice was still reimagining it all in her head later on as she lay in the dark, listening to the soft, rhythmic breathing of the others mixing soothingly with the distant sounds of revelry. Eventually she rolled onto her side and leaned over the edge of the bunk, squinting through the darkness at the lump beneath her, trying to determine if her brother was still awake. Eventually a hoarse whisper answered her question.

"You alright, Al?"

She smiled into the darkness as she registered Harry's use of the nickname her godfather had taken up. "Fine… Harry…"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know Sirius was related to Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Nope, he never mentioned it to me. It makes sense though I suppose; I mean, aren't all the old pure-blood family's meant to be related?" He was careful to keep his voice down. "Does it bother you?"

"No… I guess not, not really. I was just surprised that's all, and I mean -" She paused as the distant sounds of the Irish party suddenly seemed to swell and get louder.

Harry, picking up on her momentary pause, stopped to listen too. "I reckon Sirius will be having fun at the party anyway, do you think -"

"Shh!" Alice put a finger over her lips, forgetting in her concentration that her brother couldn't see her in the dark. "Does that just sound like a party to you?" She strained to pick up the tiniest sound. The noise of the festivities felt like it was getting closer, but there was something slightly off colour about it, she just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

At the same time as she heard the pounding of feet outside, someone not too far away let out a terrified shriek and the tent flap was ripped aside. Alice sat bolt upright in bed.

"Get up!" It was Mr Weasley's voice, he sounded anxious. "Get up quickly, all of you. Ron, Ginny, all of you, come on!"

Alice dropped quickly onto the floor, scrambling to get into her jeans as the others tripped over each other in the dark trying to get out of bed. The urgency in Mr Weasley's voice had them all instantly on alert.

"Come on, you don't have time for clothes; everyone just grab a jacket and get outside!"

"Dad," Ginny grabbed her father's hand as they all huddled in front of the tent. "Dad, what's going on?" People were streaming past on all sides, pushing and jostling to get as far away from whatever was going on as quickly as possible. She could see that they were all in various states of dress, some in their pyjamas, others had obviously dressed in a hurry - jumpers on back-to-front and jackets done up crookedly - others still with their team colours who had obviously been enjoying the party until moments before. Fred stumbled as a panicked wizard in bright green robes crashed into him before dashing off without a word. Alice and George put out a hand to steady him. In the distance she could see an orange glow filling the sky; with a sickening lurch she picked out the silhouette of a pillar of black smoke spiralling up into the night and realised that the campsite was aflame. Her grip on Fred's arm tightened slightly.

"The party's just gotten a bit out of hand that's all." She could see Mr Weasley was struggling to keep up a calm front. "I've got to go and help the Ministry sort it out. Now get into the woods and stay there until I come to fetch you. And make sure that you all stick together!" He gave his daughter a quick hug to reassure her before pushing her towards her brothers to try and get them all moving. Alice didn't move however.

"Where's Sirius?"

She could feel the tightness in Mr Weasley's fingers as he laid a hand on her shoulder. "He's with Bill and the others trying to help, don't worry about him; just get yourselves to safety and look after each other. Ok?"

Alice nodded grimly and turned to see her friends waiting for her, identical expressions of worry on each and every face. Silently Hermione reached out for her hand and without another word the seven of them sprinted off into the night.

A/N: There you go; not too different from the book, but don't worry I'm not regressing into canon! Please R&R as always!

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