Sooner than later, the Quidditch World Cup has made its way to England. Ron seemed more excited to see Victor Krum than the Bulgarian Quidditch team, besides, it's not like they are actually going to meet anyone famous.
Ron had more Quidditch merch than anybody else in his family. He and Harry supported Bulgaria whereas his siblings Fred, George and Ginny supported Ireland.
Hermione didn't exactly know who she supported in Quidditch. It was all just so confusing, it was like soccer, but in the air with brooms. Much like the muggle sports, so she just wore her Gryffindor scarf.
In the morning before the Quidditch world cup, everyone dug deep through their closets to find either Bulgarian or Ireland Quidditch merch, all ending in flags, hats, scarves, socks, shirts, the list could go on. (Just like my list of Harry Potter merch! XD) After about an hour, everyone had found their chosen Quidditch merch to wear to the Quidditch World Cup.
Mr Weasley gathered everybody up in the dining room. "Alright everyone, time to go," he called, getting everyone out of the burrow with bags filled with food and supplies.
The walk was long and boring, Ron and Harry didn't even know where they were going. Harry kept thinking about what the Quidditch World Cup would be like as he's never actually seen a real match of quidditch, except for himself in the game. He would have felt overwhelmed with excitement, but that excitement turned down, forming a spiral of depression inside of him. He was sad that Sirius could not make it, due to him escaping Azkaban and having to hide away from the ministry. Not only that but now he just didn't feel like going. He really couldn't be bothered to, but he must for Ron and Hermione. He was snapped right out of his thoughts as they had been interrupted by Ron and he put his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.
"Are we there yet" whined Ron, feeling his legs nearly give up on him. Ron was always the one who would whine and complain about whether they were at the place or not. He kind of reminded Harry of Dudley and how impatient he was at times. (P.S. I don't hate Ron)
Harry guesses more people are like Dudley than he knows. So, Malfoy isn't the only person who reminded him of Dudley. He knows he does kind of have a thing for Draco, because of his handsomeness. He has always wanted to touch his hair; it looks so soft. As well as his sharp cheekbones and oh, how he wants to run his fingers down them. Those sweet thin lips and how he wants to kiss them every morning. He blushed before realizing he was thinking about a certain blonde Slytherin. No! Snap out of it, Harry. You're going too far. However, he was snapped out of his thoughts, yet again, by Mr Weasley.
"Yes, son, were nearly at the portkey," shouted Mr Weasley, who was in front of the other Weasleys and Harry. He was lying as there still was another five and a half miles to travel by foot. He just had to shut his son up somehow.
Harry looked up to where Mr Weasley was. What he didn't know was what a Portkey was. "What's a portkey" He asked, furrowing his brows, and now turning to look up at Ron with a confused expression upon his face. As confused as he could even get actually.
"It's a teleporter," said Ron, huffing and puffing as he tried to walk faster towards his family. It was a struggle to walk so far from home to some other place he didn't know how to get to.
"What Ron's trying to say is that a Portkey is like a Floo but can take more than one person with it," explained Hermione who was trailing behind and reading a book. "They usually look useless to muggles, so they don't accidentally pick it up and get teleported to another side of the world."
Harry wondered how Hermione could speak and read at the same time, but knowing her, it wasn't impossible. "Oh, so it's a teleporter," he replied sardonically with a grin.
