A Memorable Tale

36 | The World Cup

"It was nice meeting you," Charlie said as he took out a piece of parchment. He sent a smile my way, and disappeared into his tent.

I hummed and walked Orion to our tent. "I'm here," I announced as I led Orion inside the tent. The inside of the tent was a lot like a one story cottage, if the walls were made of fabric.

The rooms - three bedrooms, a dining room, and a kitchen - were situated in the circle, and the centre was a living room made from bean bags and a coffee table.

"Y/N, you room with Cedric in the one with a bunk bed," my mother said.

I entered the room and sat on the bottom bunk below Cedric. Orion tried to follow me in, but only his head fit, so he plopped down on his stomach with his head poking through the flap and his behind still in the living room.

I reached out and patted his head. "Did you like Charlie, Orion?" He chirped, seeming to smile. "More than Cedric?"

"Hey..." Cedric mumbled, peeking out from the top bunk. Orion chirped again and lifted his head to Cedric could reach.

"I guess that's a no," I laughed. "Good job, Cedric, you've held your place as fourth favourite. Although Charlie may just win him over with a dead ferret."

"That's entirely not fair."

I smiled up at Cedric. "Orion's easy to please."

•••

Early the following morning, families of wizards were bustling to get to their seats, eager to watch the Quidditch World Cup take place.

"There are our seats," Amos pointed out.

I followed him and sat down with Cedric's family on one side of me and mine on the other.

"Who do you reckon will win?" Cedric whispered.

"Well, Bulgaria's got Krum on their team, but he's just about all they've got going for them. The Irish have a bunch of really good players but their Seeker's average at best." I placed my hand on my chin. "I say the Irish will win but Krum will get the Snitch."

"Want to bet on that?"

I smirked at him. "Five sickles."

"You're on."

The advertisements on the field ceased and were replaced with BUGLARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0, followed by a booming voice. "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the final for the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

Cheers and roars echoed through the stadium, with flags waving furiously and Bulgaria's national anthem blurring together with Ireland's in a messy symphony that would be booed at in an opera house.

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

I watched the mascots enter the stadium and my hand immediately went to cover Cedric's ears, while my mother covered my father's, and Cedric's mother covered Amos', and the three of them shut their eyes tightly. Bulgaria's mascots were veela.

"That should not be allowed," I muttered, watching men in the crowd lean forward with anticipation, some with drool on their chins and others having to be held back by their children or wives before they jumped out of the stands as the veela danced.

The veela left and the crowd jeered, not wanting them to go.

"And now," the announcer continued, "please raise your wands in the air for the Irish National Team Mascot's!"

I lowered my hand from Cedric's ears and we watched what seemed to be a green-gold comet shoot into the stadium. It circled around, then split into two, both hurtling towards the goal posts. A rainbow arced over the field, connecting the two bright lights, then faded. The two lights joined together and created a glimmering shamrock, which soared over the stands.