"What exactly did you tell him?" Nicolai asked, she, Alexander and Florence were looking at some things that people sold by the stadium. The ticket recieving line was awfully long, and Mr. Haddlowe insisted on standing in line for them while they roamed around and bought stuff.

Adrianna's face was covered in Irish-themed facepaint, with a matching scarf and a flag to go with it. Florence waited for her to move over to the other stand before she replied to Nicolai.

"I told him that... I told him that I didn't feel anything anymore." she mumbled, shrugging as Nicolai gave her a look.

"That's a lie, right? And a really good one. You know that's not true. I know that's not true. Heck even the Minister of Magic knows that isn't true." Nicolai argued.

"Well, he did the same thing. Atleast he know now how I felt."

"Florence!" Nicolai chastised, dropping an Irish hat back on to the table, "I thought you knew better."

"What?" said Florence, baffled as to why Nicolai had said that.

"You're being petty," she deadpanned, "Yes, I mean he did start it first but seriously? Doing the same thing he did, you're just making things stretch out when simple, really."

"It's not simple! I can't just walk up to him and say how I feel and hope that everything is going to fall into place."

"Uh, yes you can." Nicolai insisted, "You just have to have the balls for it."

"She doesn't have balls, I'm pretty sure," interrupted Alexander, who grabbed a small flag that had a godawful Quidditch pun inprinted on it, "You have your woman parts."

"You know I don't mean that kind of balls, Xander. Merlin, I'm trying to talk some sense into our friend here. Run back along to your sister and continue fangirling about hot Quidditch players..."

Alexander scoffed, dropping the flag back onto it's pile, "Dad's calling us back actually, where almost going in."

Florence sighed, as it was a big indication that she could get away from Nicolai's sermons for most of the night.

"Don't think we're done with this—I will be getting back to you after the game," Nicolai said to her, as if she had just read her mind, before tailing Alexander back towards the line for the stadium.

Mr. Haddlowe had given in their tickets, and as they entered the venue—it was as if their ears were going to fall out of the side of their heads from how loud everything was.

There could have been more than tens of thousands of people all packed in to watch the game, and their individual chattering made the whole thing noisier.

It was cramped up by the walkways, people struggling into getting into their designated boxes. Luckily for them, they had gotten one of the best seats in the venue, along with the other members of the Holyhead Harpies.

Florence could not stop smiling as she was introduced to Gwenog Jones, who shook her hand despite the fact that she was staring really hard at her. Adrianna eventually snapped her out of the trance and proceeded to introducing her to the rest of the team.

There had been quite a lot of people coming in during the next following minutes, and Florence completely turned away as she saw a big family of redheads pass through the walkway from above.

She could clearly see Fred—or George, grinning wildly as they scooted through the mass of people, and Harry Potter and Ron hot in their heels. Florence sucked in a breath, hoping that Nicolai didn't see them.

She didn't. Florence exhaled in relief.

Shortly after, a voice ringed throughout the whole area, "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.

There was a huge blackboard that flashed ad after ad of wizarding products—presumably sponsors of the said event. After everything it had faded out of color and displayed the score board.

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

Everyone cheered, as dozens and dozens of beautifully dressed women came up to the front, in neat straight lines before the music started up.

They were surprised by the lack pf enthuasiasm showed for the performers—there was hardly any clapping at all, and everyone was staring intently at them.

Florence realized that the said women looked blindingly beautiful—almost too beautiful to be human.

It was when she noticed that almost half of the crowd was drooling absentmindedly did she figure out that they were not women, but Veelas.

Even Asher was ogling at the dancing women, face as blank as his father's and his brother's.

Adrianna rolled her eyes, before snapping them out of their trances, but to no avail. Only did they react when the performance was over, booing along with the crowd in anger that they were being ushered out of the spotlight.

"Knock it off," she scoffed at the three, "Honestly, dad? I expected much better from you, ogling at veelas. Mum will be hearing about this."

Mr. Haddlowe simply shrugged heartily, "Darling, if you even knew your mum one tiny bit, you'd know that she'd probably drool at the sight of those veelas too."

The Irish mascot appeared before their eyes next, a green and gold comet shot across the stadium, earning many appreciative noises from the viewers. It split into much smaller balls of comets, and a rainbow appeared across, connecting the two balls of light.

It was better than the veelas, as no one was actually being hypnotized in a way.

Now the rainbow vanished, and the balls of light re- united and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it.

"Well that's a new one!" Nicolai yelled, hoisting the hem of her shirt up slightly to catch the falling coins. Everyone was doing the same, or getting under cover to avoid being clonked on the head with a Galleon.

The game started eventually, and it was all just a mass of screaming and cheering, flags flailing around almost everywhere you looked.

Even the famous Gwenog Jones was loosing her composure, as the game was really getting off to a good start.

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

And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters. The match became still faster, but more brutal.

Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

The Veelas started to dance in celebration again, most people clamping their hands over their ears and screwing their eyes shut as they did so.

Viktor Krum had pulled the classic Wronski Defensive Feint on Lynch, the Irish seeker, causing him to crash, earning a groan from all the Irish supporters.

Lynch was hurriedly treated by the MediWizards who responded almost as soon as he had touched the ground. Krum was obviously using that time to look for the snitch without disturbance.

The tean mascots' feud was evident when the Irish was awarded with a penalty, the Leprechauns got up to form a big 'HA HA HA' which angered the beautiful veelas to lengthy extents. They started to dance again.

Everybody had proceeded to covering their ears when they noticed that only the referee was getting affected.

Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

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

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

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before. . . . Oh this could turn nasty. . . ."

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him.

It had became a bit of an issue for a short while, and soon they were back into the game.

Lynch was able to spot the Snitch suddenly, after Ireland scored a bunch of other points for themselves, and was currently pelting the field to seize it. Krum was tailing him sharply, and the both of them looked like how they did a short while ago when Krum pulled the Wronski Feint on him.

Lynch crashed, for the second time.

Viktor Krum caught the snitch, however Ireland still superseded with the points.

And the people in their box went absolutely insane. Florence knew how much of a big fan the Harpies were of the Irish, as they were chucking flags and green rosettes along with the crowd. 

"Ah, that was brilliant!" said Adrianna, face still flushed from the amount of shouting she had done, "Now that, that is going to leave a mark on Quidditch History!"

"A bit dumb, don't you think, Krum catching the snitch even though they'd lose." said Alexander, and Adrianna tutted.

"You've never really understood the beauty of Quidditch, brother."

"You can tell?" he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The hike back to the campsite was as if it was a festivity of it's own. Despite the fact that they were deep into the night, the people were still more alive than ever, the noise not dying down even as they reached their tent.

"IRELAND, IRELAND, IRELAAAAND!" Adrianna continued chanting obnoxiously as she collapsed onto the couch, letting the large Irish flag fall on her like a blanket.

"Please do be quiet," Mr. Haddlowe begged, as he carried an already sleeping Asher in his arms to his bed.

"I'm beat up, I have no more pulp," Nicolai sighed, climbing up the bunk before settling into her own bed. Florence settled into the bed under hers, a yawn escaping her lips as well.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" said Florence, who wiped away the slight green on her cheek that she got off of Adrianna with her towel.

They had managed to change into their pajamas, during the last minute, before Mr. Haddlowe turned down the lights.

Florence lay there in silence for most of the time, staring up at the roof of the bunk bed as she heard faint snores escape Nicolai's lips.

She was thinking of Fred, as expected from her. Their encounter today never left her mind for even a bit—even when she was watching the World Cup take place.

There was a sense of regret and she was doing her best in disregarding it, however simultaneously failing miserably at it. Nicolai was right, she was being petty.

She could feel her eyes heavy with sleep, and soon enough her eyes started to flutter close, and sleep crept in and consumed her.

But she had awoken, to violent shaking. It was as if she had slept for mere seconds, but in reality hours had passed by. It was still pitch black outside, which perplexed her in her half-asleep state. Adrianna was looming over her, inferably the one who shook her awake.

"What?" she said groggily, too tired to guess why she had a worried face on. She could barely make out the blue eyes, but she knew it was laced with worry.

"Get up. We're moving out, something bad's happening." she said tersely, throwing the sheets off of her before thrusting Florence's duffle bag and wand to her chest as she sat upright.

"What's wrong?" This was enough to snap her awake.

"Death Eaters. They're burning down the tents, lots of them."

Death Eaters echoed over and over inside her mind as she got up from her bed, seeing the rest of them were already up on their feet. Nicolai handed Florence her coat, before stuffing a shirt into her backpack.

They headed outside—which they were unprepared for. The amount of panic and hysteria was causing a massive stampede, and they were shoved and shoved as people surged in different directions.

Florence held on to Alexander, who was the closest one to her.

"Stay together, now!" she faintly heard Mr. Haddlowe. Florence used her free hand to grab onto Nicolai, and they started pushing themselves forward.

People were bumping into the human chain that they had formed—Asher was crying in fear. Everyone felt panicked. A buff man who had ran forward managed to disband Nicolai from the chain.

And she was lost in the crowd at an instant.

Florence broke free as well, despite Alexander's warnings, and surged forward to the direction where Nicolai had gone to.

She found her crouched down on the ground, shielding herself from the stampede of people. Florence heaved her up, and scanned the crowd, however she had lost sight of the rest of them.

There was crying and hysteria everywhere, and at thw corner of her eyes—as she and Nicolai started moving—she saw them, the people dressed in dark robes and daunting masks.

Death Eaters.

She heard ringing in her ears, and was half-conscious as Nicolai dragged her away. The sight of them made her think of her father, and gruesome images flashed in her head, as if it was a memory.

But it wasn't, she wasn't there when it happened. It was merely a figment of her imagination.

And as she and Nicolai had successfully headed to safety by the trees, Nicolai watched in concern as Florence propped her hand against the tree, looking white-faced and drained.

"Flo?" she said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her lips moving slowly, "fine," she breathed out, before collapsing to the ground with a hard thump.