Never Is Our Always

The Quidditch World Cup 4

(Minnie pov)

With Mr. Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the woods, following the lantern-lit trail. We could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing.

The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious.

-

We walked through the woods for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley said. "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!" the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked our tickets said. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

We clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right.

Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last we reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field.

Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position.

At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at my eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it.

—

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," Mr. Weasley said, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field.

The veela had started to dance, and my mind had gone completely and blissfully blank.

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild.

The music stopped.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts.