To Be A Magical Boy

Chapter 4 - Fourth Year (part 1)

"...As he raise 'is flask an' drink away,

'Til mornin' light an' break o' day,

He'll sing it loud, stand tall and say:

'This ere's my bestest potions brew!'"

The chorus of laughter that followed in the wake of the cries was overloud and more than a little slurring from the drink that was already sloshing through the veins of almost every adult in the Kavanagh, Finnigan and Gallagher families. The bawdy songs had long since deteriorated from odes to victory and ballads of triumph and for the fallen back into the favourites and the classics. That was the fifth time they'd gone for a round of the "Best of Potions". Seamus had been counting.

Most of the other kids had gone to bed, leaving Seamus as the youngest still awake. He didn't think he could sleep, not that night. The Irish had won. They'd won! Sure, Krum had caught the snitch – miraculously, fantastically and awe-inspiringly – but the Irish had still won. That proved it in Seamus' opinion; Krum might be the most exceptional Seeker in the world, but the Irish were the better team. He felt a little guilty to be undermining Aidan Lynch's Seeking skills but it was the truth. Krum was incredible.

Seamus was still buzzing on a high hours after the end of the match. He loved watching quidditch and would have been perfectly satisfied had the match extended for days on end. It was almost unfortunate that it had finished so promptly, even if it was in Ireland's favour.

The Quidditch World Cup that year had been as raucous as ever. Seamus had never attended one before and he could hardly think of it being any better. The only thing missing was Dean's company, but he'd been on a holiday in Berlin with his family. Seamus thought that he personally would have foregone just about any holiday in favour of watching the World Cup – and the Irish, at that – but though Dean did love quidditch he said he'd feel guilty not going. That it was the last family holiday they'd probably have for a while because his younger sister Millie was going to boarding school down south.

Seamus' disappointment hadn't lasted long, however. Eoghan came to the game, and Seamus had hardly seen his brother in months before that. He had Connor with him, and Fergus, even if Fergus was a pompous prat most of the time. Fergus' older brother Dillon – almost as bad as Fergus – was with them two, and the five of them made something of a team with the slightly condescending accompaniment of the near-silent and book-bound Aimee. Almost every other 'child' in their family was either older than Eoghan or younger than Seamus, and had hence been sent to bed.

Eoghan and Dillon, and even Fergus when he'd managed to get his hands on it, had partaken of a splash of the sharp whiskey that Dillon had filched from his dad's cellars. Apparently he'd left home prepared to celebrate the definite victory of the Irish team because 'of course they would win, they're the better team!' Seamus had to agree with him on that at least.

Dillon was deep in his drinks, almost as sloshed as their parents in the adjoining room of their extensive tent. It was one of Seamus' favourite tents – practically a small house, it even boasted a second floor that Seamus' mam had called the 'kids' area'. Those younger kids had been shunted upstairs when the sun went down, a Muffling Charm placed across the ladder to the higher floor, and then celebration had exploded. It was Eoghan's who had urged them to withdraw from the almost manic excitement of the adults into an adjoining room. Though not quite as explosive as their parents', excitement and triumph still coursed through Seamus', Eoghan's and their cousins' veins. So Dillon had cracked open the bottle of his dad's whiskey.

The room they clustered in was relatively small and largely bare but for a ring of couches. It was remarkably soundproof for a tent considering that to Seamus' knowledge no one had cast a Muffling Charm on the walls, which was probably also a good thing from their end because Dillon had long since descended into drunkenness. Seamus could hardly understand half of his words anymore.