Not Alone After All

Chapter XLI

"Had to wake up at two, didn't we, Ced?" Amos continued. "Still... not complaining. Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that." He eyed the group. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh, no. Only the redheads," he said, not realising Laurie was also ginger. She, however, did not miss a beat before she fake gasped, hand over her chest.

"Dad?" She asked with a dramatic expression on her face. The group laughed.

"Right, not that redhead," Arthur corrected himself with a soft laugh. "Those three are my sons, yes. Ron, Fred and George. This is Hermione, friend of Ron's. That's Harry, and that's Laurie -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, eyes widening. "Harry Potter?" He asked, completely ignoring Laurie. Not that she was complaining. She hated all the attention she got just because of her last name. She preferred the attention she got for all the stuff she did and the pranks she pulled.

"Er - yeah," said Harry. He was clearly uncomfortable.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," Diggory continued. "Told us all about playing against you last year... I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell the grandchildren, that will... you beat Harry Potter!"

Fred and George scowled at them and Cedric looked extremely embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, dad," he muttered. "I told you... it was an accident."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off your broom, did you?" Amos roared genially, slapping his son on the back. "One falls off his broom, one doesn't. You don't need to be a genius to tell which is the better flier."

Until now, Laura had been quietly listening to Amos gloat about his son and literally put down her brother, but for some reason, she spoke up at that.

"Harry was a bit busy being chased by Dementors when he 'fell'" Laura commented, air-quoting the word 'fell', since technically, he'd been kissed by a freaking dementor and had lost consciousness when they pushed him off. "So there's no better flier, unfortunately. But it's okay, you guys can have the win, this time. Good luck doing it again, though."

Cedric scoffed at the girl's attitude, a smirk quickly forming on his face.

"I see how it is, Potter," he mumbled at her, gently nudging her with his arm. "Let's see who wins this year, then."

The group found the portkey, which turned out to be an old boot, and before they knew, they had been transported to another completely different place. Most of them landed hardly on the ground with grunts and moans of pain. However, Mr. Weasley and the Diggory's gracefully floated towards the ground and landed easily on their feet, as if they were used to this kind of transportation.

"I bet that cleared up your sinuses, eh?" Mr. Diggory attempted at a joke. Cedric gave his father a little smile before helping them get up.

The walk couldn't have lasted five minutes before they spotted the camp. Loud, cheerful music was being played, and there were people dancing everywhere. Hundreds of small tents were to be seen, all decorated in bright reds and greens - the colours for Bulgaria and Ireland.

"Welcome to the Quidditch World Cup, kids!" Mr. Diggory exclaimed excitedly.

Now, as much as Laura was very excited to be there and assist to the final of the Quidditch World Cup, she couldn't help but to immediately freeze upon the crowd. Laura was a very witty and funny person, but only in the security of her small group of friends. She was definitely not a 'crowd' person. Her anxiety quickly kicked in and she wrapped her arms around her torso as Mr. Weasley started to lead them through the dozens and dozens of people.

Fred and George must have noticed her uneasiness, for they quickly caught up to her and stood each by her sides. They knew how much of an introverted person she was, even if the way she acted and the pranks she pulled tended to suggest the contrary.

The group followed Arthur to a cottage, where he would supposedly pay a man for the tents. However, much to Laura's surprise, said man was a muggle.

"Weasley- - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?" Mr. Weasley said after greeting the man.

"Aye, you got the space up by the wood there," he pointed out a window. "Just the one night?"

"That's it."

"So you'll be paying now, will ya?"

"Uh.. yes," Mr. Weasley confirmed. He nervously turned to the children, immediately spotting the trio that had grown up in the muggle world. "Help me out, children," he said, pulling out a roll of muggle money from his pockets and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a -"

"That's a ten," Laura told him, gently gesturing to the small number inscription.

"Ah, yes, I see the little number on it now... so this is a five?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"A twenty," Harry quietly corrected, fully aware of the muggle trying to catch their every word.

"Ah, yes, so it is... I don't know, these little bits of paper..."

"You foreign?" the muggle asked as Mr. Weasley turned back towards him with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" Mr. Weasley repeated, puzzled. Surely, he sounded British.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with the money," Mr. Muggle explained to him. He then proceeded to tell about the couple who'd tried paying him with pieces of gold, and all about the 'weird' people doing suspicious stuff all around the campsite. Mr. Weasley had no choice but to obliviate the man, who smiled and gave him a map of the campsite and their change before wishing them a nice day.