Grindelwald's Burden (Books 1-7)

50. The Quidditch World Cup

With this chapter we are now officially 1/3 of our way into the story. I did say it would be a long one. Thank you all so much for your support so far and I hope you are all still enjoying the story.

Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. While Y/n always found the Hogwarts Quidditch field to be an impressive size this was clearly bigger.

"Seats a hundred thousand." said Mr. Weasley, spotting the impressed and awestruck look on Y/n and Harry's faces. "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!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They 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 they 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. About twenty purple and gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Y/n, filing into the front seats with Hermione, Harry the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which was beyond what he could have imagined.

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 Y/n's 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, Harry saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle, A Broom for All the Family. Safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer... Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover. No Pain, No Stain!... Gladrags Wizardwear, London, Paris, Hogsmeade...

Harry tore his eyes away from the sign and looked over his shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, batlike ears were oddly familiar...

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

Y/n turned his head at the mention of a familiar name. Though it had been nearly two years ago since they last met Y/n would never forget Dobby. He looked to see Harry looking at a tiny creature who looked up at them and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. This wasn't Dobby... it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Dobby had been before Y/n and Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and Y/n suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Y/n and Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.