After another epic but nondescript summer, Harry and Sirius decided to end things by dragging Remus and Tonks along to the Quidditch World Cup. Remus because he was Sirius' best friend and Tonks because she was Sirius' sole cool relative. And also because they wanted Remus and Tonks nice and acquainted for when Tonks was actually old enough for Remus to date. The first people they met, naturally, were Cedric Diggory and his father – whose name Harry never could remember – who only seemed to want to talk about that one time Cedric beat Harry. It was kind of creepy, really.
"Ced told us all about you, of course," Mr. Diggory was saying. "Said you're mad as a hatter but practically a demon on a broom. I said to him – Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will…you beat Harry Potter!"
"How does it feel to have your father deciding that winning an amateur Quidditch Match is going to be your greatest achievement in life?" Harry asked curiously.
Cedric made a face. "Fantastic. I'd imagine it's almost as nice as having everyone decide that you're greatest achievement will be making it to your second birthday, something everyone else has managed just fine without getting famous."
Harry laughed. "Touché."
"And it's not like it was even a fair match, anyway, since the Dementors' came out of nowhere and attacked," Cedric continued.
Harry, much as his pride was begging him not to (which was ironic to be sure), disagreed. "You caught the Snitch before you even realized the Dementors were there. While that might be slightly oblivious of you, it still meant that you had the Snitch in your sights and I was nowhere near you. Even if the Dementors hadn't shown up, you still would have caught it."
Cedric smirked. "Does that mean you're admitting I'm better than you?"
"Like hell," Harry scoffed. "I've beaten you two games to one."
"But I am the only one who's ever beaten you at Quidditch," Cedric pointed out.
"Which I'm sure you're grandchildren will just love hearing about," Harry countered.
"If you're popularity doesn't die down, they probably will..." Cedric said, shaking his head.
"Besides, I've only ever played against you, Draco, and Cho. Saying I'm a better Seeker than three other people isn't really saying much," Harry told the older boy. "Hey, that reminds me. Did you make Head Boy?"
Cedric gave him a strange look. "Harry…I'm a sixth year."
Harry blinked, surprised. "You are? Crap, that makes it even worse."
"That makes what even worse?" Cedric asked confused.
"Word of advice, if you ever find yourself suddenly and mysteriously portkeyed to a graveyard, don't ask questions, don't look around, just grab the Portkey again and get out of there," Harry said firmly.
"…Alright," Cedric agreed finally. "That sounds oddly specific, do you-"
"What can I say?" Harry interrupted. "I'm a Divination prodigy."
"I don't believe in Divination," Cedric replied immediately.
"I don't really care," Harry confessed. "But you did agree to do that, so my work here is done." With that, Harry turned his attention back to the 'adults.'
"That's fascinating, Amos," Remus was saying. Oh, right, AMOS was his name. Ah well, Harry would probably end up forgetting it again as soon as he left, anyway. "We have to keep moving, though. We're looking for the Weasley's. They promised to save us a spot for our tent…"
"I quite understand," Amos said heartily. "Don't let us keep you. I need to discuss that bill on werewolf rights you're working on with you when we get back to the Ministry, though. I've got a few ideas on the subject myself."
"I'll stop by and see you first thing Monday," Remus promised.
"So you're working on a bill about werewolf rights?" Harry asked as they set off again. "Won't that cause problems because people will assume you're just doing it because you're a werewolf?"
"Well…I am mostly doing it because I'm a werewolf," Remus admitted. "If I weren't, I wouldn't be as aware of the blatant discrimination and appalling treatment we receive."
"Not to mention the fact that most people don't know about his, what did you call it Sirius? His 'furry little problem,'" Tonks added.
"Oh, that was code for 'Remus is a werewolf?'" Harry deadpanned. "I thought it meant that he had a badly behaved rabbit."
"How did you corrupt him so quickly?" Remus demanded, turning to Sirius. "You've only known him for about a year."
"It's not me," Sirius insisted, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "It's the genes. And partly me, I guess, but mostly just James."
Remus just rolled his eyes.
----
All in all, they were very grateful to finally reach the Weasleys. When they were walking through a rather Pro-Irish section, Seamus had ambushed them and dragged them off to meet his mother and Tonks almost started a riot by confessing that she didn't actually know who was playing besides 'whatever team that Krum guy's on.' Harry and Sirius, both avid Quidditch fans themselves, were currently refusing to speak to her.
"Hey, what took you so long?" Ron asked.
"Tonks almost started a riot," Remus explained when Sirius and Harry pointedly didn't say anything. Realizing that the Weasley's were also somewhat of a family of Quidditch fanatics, he continued, "Don't ask."
"Did that take all day or something?" Ginny asked. "We've been here for four hours."
Harry's eyes widened in horror at the thought of waking up that early during the summer. "Why?"
"Because we're not old enough to Apparate like Bill, Charlie, and Percy," Ginny explained sourly. "Does that mean that you haven't been here that long?"
"God no," Harry shook his head vehemently. "Remus and Tonks Apparated while I did side-along Apparition with Sirius."
"Dad! Why couldn't we do Side-Along Apparition and get here at a normal time?" Ginny demanded.
"Because we had four people who could Apparated and six who couldn't, including Hermione and Neville," Arthur explained. "I didn't want to make two trips."
Grumbling under her breath, Ginny let it go.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted his Quidditch-enthusiasm-challenged friend. "Do YOU know who's playing?"
"Of course," she replied, looking bemused. "Ireland and Bulgaria. How could I not know that?"
"No idea," Harry said honestly. "Either way, this is Sirius's cool relative, Tonks. I think you two would get along."
"Even I know that Ireland and Bulgaria are playing each other," Percy said. "Are you saying that someone here didn't? Possibly Tonks?"
Harry nodded sadly. "I just don't get it…I mean, I know since Hermione just said who was playing I have no proof you knew before then, but I'm willing to give Oliver the benefit of the doubt on that one…"
"Don't you mean give ME the benefit of the doubt?" Percy asked.
Harry shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure I meant Oliver, seeing as how it's all thanks to him that you have even a basic appreciation of the sport."
"And it's all thanks to my brothers that I needed Oliver's intervention," Percy continued. "Speaking of, did the twins just bet their entire saving that Ireland will win the match but Krum will get the Snitch?"
Harry looked over at the twins, who were handing a sizeable bag of money over to Ludo Bagman. "Oh no…" he breathed, remembering Bagman's chronic gambling and goblin problems that had lead to him practically stalking Harry during the Tournament.
"You sound pretty confident," Harry noted, making his way over to his future business partners. "You know what, I'll bet you fifty galleons that Ireland gets the Snitch."
The twins exchanged glances.
"We don't actually have-" Fred began.
"Fifty galleons-" George continued.
"So we can't-"
"In good conscience-"
"Take that bet," Fred finished.
"You won't need fifty galleons if you win," Harry pointed out. "And if not, it's not like I don't see you everyday anyway. So again: how sure are you?"
The twins had a silent conversation with their eyes.
"We'll take it," George said finally.
"Here you go," Harry pulled out a large pouch of money, counted out fifty galleons, and put it in a smaller bag before handing it to the twins. "Take good care of my money."
There, that should take care of most of the twins' problems when Bagman proved not to be good for it.
Of course, that wasn't likely to stop them from hounding Bagman anyone but…at least this way it might stop Molly from murdering her troublemaking sons and the father who let it happen.
"Betting with schoolchildren, Ludo?" Barty Crouch asked disdainfully as he entered the clearing.
"I-er…" Bagman really didn't have an response for that, seeing as how it was true.
"Never mind," Crouch said impatiently. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting that we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."
"Oh, is that what they're after?" Bagman asked. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."
"Next time you cannot understand an accent, kindly find someone to interpret for you," Crouch said sternly.
"Mr. Crouch!" Percy greeted a little breathlessly, bowing slightly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"No thank you, Weasley," Crouch shook his head. "I brought my own drink." With that, he took a sip of his flask.
Harry started. Did Crouch just get Percy's name right? Although, come to think of it, it was a little strange how he kept getting it wrong before, since he clearly knew who Arthur was and you couldn't really miss that the two were related.
"Why, Barty," Bagman said with a grin. "Is that whiskey you've got in there?"
"Certainly not," Crouch looked highly affronted. "I would never stoop so low as to drink on the job or at such an important international event like this! I'm just very particular about my tea, so I brought my own so as not to make a fuss."
"If you say so…" Bagman sing-songed.
"Any news on Bertha Jorkins, yet?" Arthur asked the other two Department Heads.
"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha…memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."
"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Arthur suggested tentatively.
"The problem is, Arthur, that she went missing in Albania," Crouch explained. "We have asked the authorities to be on the lookout for her, but that's about all we can do as it's out of our jurisdiction. Besides, no one really remembers seeing her so there aren't even any solid leads. We're hoping of course, but you know how these things are. She was probably attacked by a local dark wizard or some sort of dark creature."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. He remembered Bertha. She had come out of Voldemort's wand right before his parents. He didn't remember too much about her disappearance except that Voldemort had killed her after Pettigrew had brought her to him and that's how he knew of the Tournament. But if Pettigrew were in Azkaban than what happened to Bertha? Was it just a coincidence?
Harry hated coincidences.
----
"Where are you sitting?" Arthur asked Sirius as everyone made their way into the giant stadium.
"Top box," Sirius said proudly. "It was part of my reparation. Of course, the rest of it went to buying Harry a Firebolt but…"
"You don't mind because I'm your godson and you love me?" Harry suggested.
"…Let's go with that, sure," Sirius replied.
"That's where we're sitting, too," Arthur enthused. "Bagman owed me a favor."
"The Ministry is bending over backwards so I don't write that tell-all exposé about life as an innocent man in Azkaban," Sirius countered.
"Ah, Harry!" Fudge said warmly, standing up to greet him. "So nice to see you again! And under better circumstances that last time, I'd like to think. Allow me to introduce you to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. He doesn't speak a word of English, but-"
"Really?" Sirius perked up. "I speak Bulgarian."
Tonks looked at him in surprise. "You do?"
"Of course," Sirius nodded. "So does your mother, come to think of it. After Dumbledore got appointed Headmaster, our parents were debating whether to send us to Durmstrang. Of course, Durmstrang isn't actually IN Bulgaria, but it has plenty of Bulgarian students and they made us learn all the languages they thought we might encounter."
"Really?" Tonks was fascinated. "What changed their minds?"
"They decided the uniforms were tacky," Narcissa Malfoy replied, entering the box, followed by her husband and son. "Hello, Sirius."
"Narcissa," Sirius nodded his head. "Draco." He paused. "I don't actually remember what your husband's name is…"
"Lucius," Narcissa replied. "I heard you gave away your title?"
"I'm actually more of a regent than anything else…" Remus clarified.
"I'm too busy to be bothered," Sirius added. "Teaching at Hogwarts, having a life…Very few people manage both, you know."
"So, um, do you think you could help translate?" Fudge piped up.
Sirius looked startled, like he'd completely forgotten about Fudge and his foreign language woes. "Oh, certainly, yes." He moved over closer to the foreign minister and began conversing with him in his native tongue.
"Hi, Draco," Harry greeted.
Narcissa shot him an icy look even as Draco waved back cheerfully.
"You want to sit by us?" Harry offered.
Draco considered it. "As long as Neville sits on your other side so I won't get into a fight with the Weasel or my father won't freak out because I look like I'm associating with Granger, it should be alright."
"Does your father even know her Hermione is?" Neville asked, curiously. Being a Pureblood himself and rather laidback as a rule, Neville had really never had any problems with Draco after first year when Draco realized that Neville wasn't the easy target he had initially pegged him for.
"No, but my mother might," Draco confided.
"Do we have to deal with him everywhere?" Ron complained.
"I could go sit over by him if it bothers you," Harry volunteered.
Ginny looked over at Draco's parents, who looked very much like they wanted to inflict bodily on harm on Harry. "You know, I think Malfoy will be fine here."
"Mother, Father, I'm going to go sit by the boy who saved us all from You-Know-Who," Draco announced, knowing that as much as his parents might dislike Harry, they couldn't really refuse to let Draco sit by him after he phrased it like that.
Arthur and Lucius spent the rest of the time before the match trading insults while Narcissa reluctantly made small talk with Remus and Tonks. At one point, Sirius came over to explain that the Bulgarian Minister knew English just fine but he never liked Fudge so he was pretending not to speak it to annoy him. The two men were apparently having a grand old time insulting Fudge without anyone but Narcissa being the wiser.
Harry knew the Irish mascots were leprechauns of course, but had forgotten what the Bulgarian one was and so was quite surprised when the field was stormed by Veela.
Draco, Neville, and Ron, Harry noted with some amusement, all stood up and attempted to jump off the balcony and had to be held back by the non-male and/or teenage members of the group.
"God, it's like you've never seen a Veela before," Harry said, shaking his head incredulously.
Ron flushed. "Why weren't you affected?"
"Because I'm not as hormonal?" Harry suggested.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Never mind…"
"Leprechauns!" Arthur exclaimed when it was the Irish's turn to display their mascots.
"There you go!" Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand. "For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!" Harry hadn't wanted to make the Omniocular's he'd bought Ron and Ginny a substitute Christmas present, but Ron had insisted.
"…You that Leprechaun gold disappears after a couple of hours, right?" Harry pointed out.
"What?" Ron looked upset.
"Yes, they just make it to amuse themselves," Hermione explained. "It causes all kinds of controversy when people pay in Leprechaun gold and it disappears as no one can really tell if the person who paid in it knew it was Leprechaun gold or if they themselves were also tricked. It's a good thing that it doesn't last either, or else think of what inflation would be like…"
"Besides," Neville added. "Since the gold was everywhere, you can't really pay him back using something that anyone could pick up off the ground."
"Looks like you're back to no Christmas present," Ginny added, annoyed that Ron had included here in the 'no present' deal as she had no problem accepting the ten-galleon gift. Then again, she had a small fortune herself sitting in her own private Gringott's vault that her family didn't know about from the basilisk, so maybe that was why.
"Don't worry, Ron," Harry hurried to reassure his friend, who was looking more distraught by the second. "Christmas is still four months away; I'll probably forget by then and get you something anyway."
"That's not the point!" Ron burst out. "You're always paying for everything!"
"It's because I'm an orphan," Harry explained. "And because I'm not afraid to exploit my fame for all it's worth."
Ron still looked a bit disgruntled, but he quieted down after that.
----
The match was interesting enough, if a bit predictable. After all, nothing he had done differently in the past three years did anything to make the Irish team or Krum any worse and so once again the twins' won their bet, though this time they didn't lose their savings and actually made nearly 13 galleons on it. Harry was just happy that he was still able to follow the play without the aid of Omnioculars, which he had been worrying about as it had also been three years since his last high-speed Quidditch match.
Of course, the after-game celebration was cut a bit short as screams and shouts suddenly broke out at the campsite.
"Harry," Arthur burst into Harry's tent. "We've got to go. Kids, you get into the woods, okay. We adults have to take care of this…"
"Geez," Ron grumbled as the adults ran off. "They're making it sound like there's a Death Eater attack or something."
Neville, who was watching two masked wizards levitating a small Muggle child and spinning him like a top with a look of distaste on his face, said, "I know no one here actually believes in Divination – except, perhaps, Harry – but that's two for two, Ron."
"This is really sick…" Ron muttered, shaking his head at the sight, before they all hurried off into the woods.
Suddenly, Ron crashed to the ground. "Ah! Tripped over a tree-root."
"Well, with feet that size, it would be hard not to," Draco drawled from behind them. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now before they spot you?"
"Are you saying that they're going to be able to 'tell' that Hermione's Muggleborn and so she's in danger?" Harry asked skeptically.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't be silly. It's dark, they're drunk, they probably don't know who she is anyway, and nothing about her really screams out 'Muggleborn' until she starts talking. I was more referring to the fact that they'll probably not be opposed to attacking you, given they blame you for the Dark Lord's downfall."
"Oh," Harry said, momentarily taken aback. "That's thoughtful. You really shouldn't call him 'the Dark Lord', though. It makes you sound like a Death Eater."
"You really shouldn't call him by his name," Draco countered. "It makes you sound like an idiot."
"Speaking of Death Eaters," Ron said, glaring at his most hated rival. "Where are your parents? Out there wearing masks?"
Draco just eyed him lazily. "How rude. Potter, how can you be friends with such a heathen?"
"We bonded over candy, remember?" Harry said absently, scanning the skies. Shouldn't the Dark Mark be showing up soon?
By the time the adults came to get them several hours later after everything was safe again, the Dark Mark still hadn't made an appearance. That made Harry uneasy, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. Something told him that something unexpected was happening again, but unlike with Pettigrew, he didn't know what.