The Wolf's Lion ~ Harry Potter (Editing)

Chapter Three | Quidditch and Death Eaters

The humongous arena was filled with cheering fans all making their way up to their seats. Witches and wizards from around the world had gathered in the UK to watched the Irish Quidditch team battle the Bulgarians.

Orange, white, green and red balloons fell from the top of the arena, celebrating the two teams. Loud music boomed and The fans chanted loudly, either celebrating Ireland or Bulgaria.

Ariana could swear she had clambered up a million stairs, since their seats were on the very top row available. She, the Weasleys and the two Diggorys were nearing the top, and Ariana was thankful for that.

"Blimey Dad, how far up are we?" Ron asked, peering over the banister at the scarily large drop.

"Well put it this way," a condescending voice interjected from below them. "If it rains... you'll be the first to know."

Ariana groaned quietly and peered down her nose at Draco and his father. Both wore black suits and had platinum blonde hair, priding themselves on their looks like a prize poodle.

"Father and I are in the minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself," said Draco smugly.

Lucius smacked Draco's stomach with the head of his lavish walking cane, which concealed his snake-headed wand. "Don't boast Draco. There's no need with these people."

Hermione scoffed, so Harry put his hand on her back to guide her away. Before he could, the older Malfoy snagged his hand with his cane, preventing him from leaving.

"Do enjoy yourself won't you. While you can."

Ariana flicked the silver snake's head off of Harry. "Likewise," she smiled politely, although her eyes were giving a dead stare.

A satisfied Ariana watched as Lucius pulled Draco away, muttering slightly under his breath. She and her accomplices scaled the next few flights of stairs, then finally made it up to their places.

They had a bird's eye view of the entire pitch, watching with glee as the ceremonies began. Fireworks popped and fizzed overhead, bursting into a flurry of bright colours.

"Come on up, take your seats. I told you these seats would be worth waiting for," Arthur said eagerly.

"Come on!" George yelled over the noise, leaning against the metal banister.

"It's the Irish!" Fred yelled.

Ariana watched as seven green and white players soared overhead, leaving a colourful trail behind them. A sparkling leprechaun appeared in the air, dancing an Irish jig.

Cheers of 'Ireland' erupted like volcanoes, supporting the energetic team as they came to a standstill, prepared for the game.

"Here come the Bulgarians!" Fred shouted again, acting like a commentator.

Seven red and black men on sleek broomsticks tore through the leprechaun, causing it to burst into nothing. They tore through Irish team, knocking them out of formation.

Two of them performed an impressive stunt on his broom as he zoomed around the stadium.

Their Seeker, Viktor Krum, appeared in front of the fans, a photographic version of him flying around the arena walls. As did his brother, Ivan Krum, one of the team's Chasers.

Ariana was impressed by them, in a strictly professional manner. They were only eighteen and seventeen years old, therefore still students of magic, and world-famous Quidditch players. It was an incredible feat.

"Krum!!!" the twins yelled in unison, shaking their fists sportingly. "Yes!!"

The crowd fell silent as the Minister of Magic stood up in his box, holding his wand to his throat. In order to be heard all over the stadium, he used an Amplifying Charm, causing his voice to boom. "Good evening! It gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup. Let the match begin!"

The match was a brilliant experience. For a few hours, it allowed Ariana to forget about her problems for a while and be absorbed in the sporting event.

She never really followed Quidditch much, quite like some Muggles and football. She paid attention to the scores when she read them in the Daily Prophet, but other than that, she didn't go out of her way to find out the results of the matches.

Despite Viktor managing to catch the Snitch, the Irish emerged victorious with a score of 170-160. The team performed a lap of honour before being presented the World Cup by the Fudge.

Once they made it back to the tent, the boys began fawning over the Krums. Ariana sat cross-legged on her top-bunk bed, while Hermione read and Ginny laughed with her brothers and Harry.

Ariana finally dipped her fingers into her pocket and pulled the folded paper out of her pocket. While the boys mocked Ron for his love of the Krum brothers, the white-haired witch began to read.

Dearest Ariana,

I hope all is well. I have heard Arthur is taking you all to see the Quidditch World Cup, I imagine that will be fantastic. You should take the opportunity to loose yourself in the fest-

The witch's head snapped up when the scent of... Burning? She jumped down from the bunk and stuck her head out of the tent.

She spied figures wearing black hooded cloaks and masks carrying torches, setting fire to tents with their wands. They chanted under their breaths as they marched in formation, a trail of havoc following them wherever they went.

Ariana gasped quietly and withdrew her head. She knew these people were followers of Voldemort, therefore enemies of Harry and Ariana. As she pulled her head inside, screams of terror flowed in from outside.

"Sounds like the irish have got their pride on," Fred grinned.

"It isn't the Irish," said Ariana morbidly, turning to Arthur. "Mr. Weasley, they're Death Eaters."

Arthur's face blanched. "We've gotta get out of here. Now."

He ushered everyone outside, instructing them to leave everything behind. Ariana grabbed the crumpled parchment and rammed it in her pocket, ensuring she had her wand as she hurried outside.

Chaos. That's what surrounded them. The people who had come to enjoy themselves for the weekend were now running for their lives, screaming as they were scorched and killed.

Ariana's arm was being gripped by Hermione, so she reciprocated it, holding her friend's arm. She would of been a fool to deny that she wasn't scared, because the situation was terrifying.

"Get back to the portkey everybody, and stick together! Fred, George... Ginny is your responsibility," Arthur said firmly, being pushed about by people fleeing the scene.

Fred and George took their sister's hand and dashed into the crowd, desperately trying to keep her and themselves safe.

The four Gryffindors were carried off in the onslaught of horrified people. Ariana was battered back and forth, causing her separation from the others. She lost sight of them in the sea of spectators, but she could hear Hermione.

"Ariana! Harry! Harry! Ariana!"

From that, Ariana deduced that Harry had also been swept away. The girl struggled to maintain her footing as she was battered about, but she managed to remain standing.

She was lost within a maze of screaming people for what felt like hours. For every two steps she made in the direction of the portkey, she was pushed back by one, so it took doubly as long as it would of.

Her heart pounded in her ears, and she tasted the metallic taste of blood as someone collided with her lower lip. Thankfully it was only a small cut, and she ran her tongue over it.

Compared to the obscenely massive crowd, Ariana was miniscule. Despite her attempts to get to the portkey, she was swept away like a leaf in the wind.