"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU REJECTED THE COLE GREGWITCH, CASSIE," Draco exclaimed for the tenth time as they followed the lantern-lit trail through the woods. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing.

"I swear, Malfoy, if you say that again, I'll push you off the stands," Cassie threatened, her irritation clear.

"YOU KNOW HE IS THE SECOND PLAYER TO BE RECRUITED WHILE IN SCHOOL AFTER KRUM!"

"I don't give a fuck, and FOR THE LAST TIME, SHUT UP," Cassie snapped, focusing on the stairs.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, and as high as you can go."

Cassie, Draco, and the rest of the Malfoys hurried up the stairs. At last, they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box set at the highest point of the stadium, situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here.

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.

"Ah, and here's Lucius!" the Minister called.

Cassie's eyes widened. "Potter," she smirked, nudging Draco, who grinned. They edged along the second row to four still-empty seats.

Cassie's eyes met Harry's, who looked at her with utmost disdain. She just smirked back.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"I did have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Malfoy last year at Hogwarts, and Miss Black too," Fudge added hurriedly noticing the curly haired witch 

"How do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk—Obalonsk—Mr.—well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else—you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other, cold disdain evident on both sides.

Cassie then noticed the middle-aged ginger wizard in Muggle clothes, tight-lipped, Definitly a Weasley

 Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Cassie snorted, enjoying the dig.

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How—how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

As Lucius and Narcissa settled down, engaging in conversation with some Ministry officials, Cassie saw her chance. She nudged Draco and nodded towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were seated in the next row

"Perfect timing," Draco whispered, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Cassie and Draco slid out of their seats and made their way over to the trio, 

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potter, Weasley, and the Mudblood," Draco drawled as they approached.

Harry looked up, his expression darkening. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Oh, just a bit of pre-match entertainment," Draco sneered

"Enjoy your first and last time in the Top Box, Weasley," Cassie added with a smirk. "I'm surprised they let you blood traitors in at all. "

Ron turned red, clenching his fists. "Shut up, Black"

"Or what?" Cassie taunted. "You'll throw some more of your mom's hand-me-downs at us?"

"Leave us alone," Hermione said coldly "We're here to watch the match, just like everyone else."

"Watch it from where you belong, Granger. The ground level," Draco said, laughing. "You know, where the dirt and mud are."

Harry stood up, his fists balled. "Back off, Malfoy".

"Temper, temper, Potter," Cassie mocked. "What are you gonna do? Cry to Sirius about it?

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he fired back, "Why jealous, Black? Jealous that your own father likes me more than he likes you?"

Cassie's smirk faltered for a split second, anger flashing in her eyes. Draco, sensing the tension, stepped closer to her, immediately holding her hand which was edging towards her dagger.

"He is not my father, Potter," Cassie hissed, her voice controlled with rage. "You think I give a fuck who he likes?"

Harry's eyes burned "I think it eats you up inside, knowing Sirius would rather live with me than with his own blood. Must be tough-

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, alarmed by the escalating tension.

Cassie's grip tightened around the handle of her dagger, but Draco's hold on her hand prevented her from drawing it. "Oh, how you are lucky we are in public, Potter," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Harry stood his ground, his jaw set. "Keep your threats, Black. They don't scare me."

"Everyone ready?" Ludo Bagman exclaimed enthusiastically, 

Cassie's grip relaxed slightly on her dagger, her attention shifting to Ludo Bagman's interruption

"This isn't over, Potter. You'll wish you never opened your mouth."

Harry scoffed as he sat down, watching Cassie and Draco head back to their seats.

"Minister — ready to go?" 

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo Bagman whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" His voice boomed over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium, echoing into every corner of the stands.

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

The spectators erupted into screams and applause. Thousands of flags waved, each adding its national anthem to the cacophony. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans — A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

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

Cassie leaned back with a smirk. "Ah, Veela."

Draco quickly plugged his ears as the Veela's enchanting song filled the stadium. A hundred Veela glided out onto the field, their movements graceful and hypnotic. Draco squinted, trying to control the effect on him.

The music abruptly stopped, replaced by angry yells from the crowd. Many in the stands were reluctant to see the Veela leave, but Cassie rolled her eyes at the spectacle.

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

Next moment, what seemed like a great green-and-gold comet zoomed into the stadium. It circled once, then split into two smaller comets that raced towards the goal posts. A rainbow arced across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd gasped and cheered, enthralled by the display.

"Now that's more like it," Cassie muttered, a faint smile crossing her lips.

The rainbow faded, and the balls of light merged back into a shimmering shamrock, soaring over the stands. Golden rain seemed to shower down from it, and the stadium erupted with excited yells as spectators dove to catch the falling gold.

Draco watched with a mixture of awe and amusement. "Quite the show they're putting on."

Cassie nodded, her eyes following the shamrock's path

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!" Ludo Bagman announced enthusiastically.

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, earning wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!" Another scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Gregwitch! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — Krum!"

"That's him," Draco said dreamily, using his Omnioculars to focus on Krum.

Meanwhile, someone else caught Cassie's eye — Gregwitch, the Beater, zooming around the pitch with his black hair ruffling in the wind.

"Did you see Gregwitch?" Draco suddenly asked.

"No," Cassie scoffed, putting down her Omnioculars. "Why would I "

"Geez just making a conversation "

"And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed  Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open — four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and  the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

Three Irish Chasers zoomed closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. "Porskoff Ploy!" flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran.

"A nice Beater there by Gregwitch!" Ludo exclaimed, his voice rising above the roar of the crowd.

Moran passed the Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it —

"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock.

"I fucking told you, Dray — Ireland's Chasers are bomb," Cassie exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the fast-paced action.

They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading oneanother's minds as they positioned themselves,

Within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, extending their lead to thirty-zero.

The match intensified, becoming faster and more brutal. Volkov and Gregwitch, the Bulgarian Beaters, relentlessly whacked the Bludgers at the Irish Chasers, trying to disrupt their coordination. Twice they managed to scatter the Irish players, temporarily preventing them from using some of their best moves. But Ivanova, the Bulgarian Chaser, finally broke through their rank. dodged the Keeper, Ryan, and scored Bulgaria's first goal.

Draco winced and dug his fingers into his ears as the Veela broke out in celebration

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh I say!" roaredBagman. 

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers,Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers

"He saw the snitch!" Draco yelled

"No idiot he is feinting" Cassie yelled zooming her omniculours 

At the very last second, Viktor Krumpulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit theground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats

"idiot"

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Cassie didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul."

"A penalty to Ireland!" announced Mostafa.

The leprechauns, having risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet was fouled, darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" On the other side of the field, the Veela leapt to their feet, tossing their hair angrily and starting to dance again.

Malfoy quickly closed his ears against the Veela's enchanting song, trying to block out their influence. Cassie, on the other hand, didn't bother, snorting as she tugged Draco's arm.

"Look at the referee," Cassie pointed out.

Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing Veela and was acting very oddly indeed. He flexed his muscles and smoothed his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" chuckled Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself, shaking his head slightly.

"Now that's amusing," Cassie remarked, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched the chaotic scene as Mostafa attempted to send the mascots leading to a small fight

Cassie stretched herself and leaned forward, her arm resting on the seat in front of her, which she thought was empty. To her surprise, she noticed 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.

"A house elf?" Cassie whispered to Draco, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

Draco glanced over, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected sight. "Looks like it."

As Cassie settled back in her seat, a strange sensation made her neck twitch involuntarily, almost as if she could sense something unsettling nearby... something dark. She rubbed her neck, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

Draco quickly pulled Cassie's attention back to the match.

"Look, Cassie, another foul," he pointed out, gesturing towards the field were irish supporters were shouting something

Cassie shrugged off the weird feeling and chuckled along the drama that was unfolding 

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, theyformed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed atthe veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead ofdancing, they launched themselves across the field and beganthrowing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.Watching through his Omnioculars,  they didn'tlook remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces wereelongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scalywings were bursting from their shoulders

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate theveela and the leprechauns

"Levski — Dimitrov — Moran — Troy — Mullet — Ivanova — Moran again — Moran — MORAN SCORES!"

The cheers of the Irish supporters were drowned out by the shrieks of the Veela and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game resumed immediately with rapid exchanges of the Quaffle between players.

Meanwhile, Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, aiming it towards Krum. The Bludger struck Krum full in the face.

"Oh fuck," Draco winced, reacting to the impact.

"Look at Lynch!" Cassie yelled, her attention shifting as the action intensified.

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry's voice carried over the tumult. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half of the crowd realized what was happening as Lynch pursued the Golden Snitch. The Irish supporters rose in a wave of green, urging their Seeker on. However, Krum was close behind, intensifying the race.

As Lynch descended to the ground, he landed with tremendous force and was immediately swarmed by angry Veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Cassie shouted, her voice cutting through the commotion.

"He's got it — Krum's got it — it's all over!" someone exclaimed.

But then Cassie interrupted with a sudden realization: "WAIT!"

The scoreboard flashed: BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170. The crowd, initially confused, gradually understood the outcome. The rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder, erupting into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman's voice boomed across the stadium, mirroring the astonishment felt by everyone present.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

The Irish players danced gleefully under a shower of gold from their mascots, surrounded by waving flags and the blaring of their national anthem. The veela, now back to their usual selves, appeared dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," remarked the Bulgarian Minister of Magic behind Harry, his tone gloomy.

"You can speak English!" Fudge exclaimed indignantly. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," shrugged the Bulgarian minister, unapologetic.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman announced triumphantly.

The Top Box was magically illuminated, revealing the interior to the entire stadium. Cassie squinted through the brightness and saw the arrival of two wizards carrying a vast golden cup, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, still looking disgruntled from his day of unnecessary mime.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Bulgaria!" Bagman cheered.

The defeated Bulgarian players ascended the stairs into the box, greeted by applause from the crowd below. Cassie watched as Gregwitch, looking disappointed with sweat-matted black hair, joined the lineup. He caught her eye, offering her a smile and wink  to which Cassie rolled her eyes though she cudnt help a small grin

Krum, last in line, appeared battered with two black eyes and a bloody face, still clutching the Snitch. When his name was announced, the stadium erupted into a deafening roar of respect.

Then, it was the Irish team's turn. Aidan Lynch, supported by Moran and Connolly due to his earlier injury, grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air. The crowd below thundered with approval.

 "I told you!" she exclaimed excitedly to Draco, walking down the stairs who looked somewhat dejected at irelands win.