reality ◦ fred weasley

• D IS FOR DANGEROUS •

chapter five; d is for dangerous

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CLUTCHING THEIR PURCHASES, they hurried into the forest, following the lantern-lit trail. The atmosphere was an infectious one of overwhelming excitement, and Robyn was unable to keep the grin off her face.

They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking amongst themselves. The night air had settled in, and Robyn found herself shivering in her thin denim jacket.

"Are you cold?" Fred asked her as they walked.

"A little," Robyn said, crossing her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm.

"Here, take this," said Fred kindly, shrugging his hoodie off of his shoulders and putting it around Robyn.

"Thanks," she smiled softly, snuggling into his jacket.

"You suit it better than I do," Fred said, smiling.

"Oh, thank you," she beamed again, "but aren't you cold?"

"I'm a Weasley. We all have special powers - of course I'm not cold," Fred grinned, flexing his arms.

"You can be my Superman, then," Robyn laughed.

"Superman? What's that?" Fred asked.

"Muggle comics. Don't worry about it," she grinned.

At last, they reached the edge of the woods. They emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a humongous stadium. Though Robyn could only see a fraction of the golden walls, she could tell that at least seven football pitches would fit comfortably inside.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again... Bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right.

They kept climbing until at last they reached the top of the staircase and arrived in a small box. It was set at the highest point of the stadium, exactly halfway between the golden goal posts.

Robyn, filing into the front row with the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, found herself looking down upon a scene which she couldn't imagine in her wildest dreams. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their seats, which rose in thousands of levels around the large oval pitch.

It reminded Robyn of the time when her dad had taken her and her cousin, Clara, to watch a football game one day, although that pitch had been many times smaller than this one. There was a golden light flooding the stadium which seemed to be coming from the walls themselves. The field looked incredibly smooth from their high position, and the goalposts were twinkling from the reflections of hundreds of cameras, each taking photos of the pitch.

"Oh my God," Robyn said softly, a grin forming on her face. "This is incredible!"

"Bloody hell!" George exclaimed from her right.

Right opposite them, there was a huge blackboard which Robyn soon realised was flashing adverts at them. Golden writing kept flashing across it and then erasing itself, as though some invisible giant's hand was scrawling on it.