Tonks | Harry Potter | Ron Weasley

Chapter Three- The Quidditch World Cup

As they walked, Circe poorly painted the green and white colors onto the twins, hoping it looked decent despite how difficult it had been while walking.

Then, when she had finished, she turned back to her friends, closing up the paints. Ron was smiling at her oddly. She chuckled, opening the paints again.

By the time they had reached the stadium, each of the Weasley family, plus Harry and Hermione, had green and white painted on their faces. The lines were wobbly, sure, but they didn't care. Circe had even painted some on Mr. Weasley.

Hermione took the paints from Circe, holding her head still as the walking slowed down due to the people filing into the stadium. She began to paint onto Circe's face slowly, and in the corner of her vision, she could see Ron watching in awe. Hermione grinned, looking up at Harry, who was standing next to Circe. He also grinned. They knew. Even if Ron and Circe didn't.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley told Harry.

Circe glanced briefly at the stadium. It was massive. She figured they could easily fit ten cathedrals inside of it. How the muggle in charge of the campsite didn't notice? Circe would never know. She didn't understand how there was enough magic in the world to cover up such a large structure, and yet there it was. Unseen by muggles.

The group stepped forward to the entrance, and Mr. Weasley handed their tickets to the woman standing guard.

"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 group paraded up the purple carpeted stairs, watching as others broke off left and right into their own section. But they continued on, going higher and higher, until they were the last people on the stairs.

At the very top they had reached their box. They began to filter into the front row, taking up over half of the 20 seats.

They looked down below them, gaping at the sight.

Below them was an enormous stadium, a hundred thousand wizards filing into the seats. The field was beautiful, with three hoops suspended 50 feet in the air on either end. What Circe would give to play on that field.

She grinned, leaning over to get a better look at everyone below them.

Ron leaned up next to her.

"Isn't it amazing?" he whispered into her ear.

"Duh," she said, still looking around. "I wish I could fly out there."

"Maybe someday you will," he said.

Circe turned to him with a grin. "You really think I could?"

"Oh yeah," Ron nodded. "I mean you made the Quidditch team our second year. That's pretty incredible."

"Harry made it first year," Circe said teasingly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "His last name is Potter. Of course he did."

Circe chuckled. "Would you come see the games?"

"Every one," Ron said, smiling.

"Oh really?" Circe asked.

"Duh," Ron said, making fun of her.

They both sat back down, Ron turning to Harry and beginning to mess around with their omnioculars. Circe turned to Hermione, who was reading her velvet covered, tasseled program.

" 'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,' " she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."