Quidditch Kickoff

The air was cold, and the moon was still high in the sky.

Molly and Arthur walked in the middle, with George and Fred on their right, Harry on their left, and Ron supporting his sister who could barely keep her eyes open. Loren and Hermione walked on the far side, their shoulders bumping against each other, as they walked with difficulty along the dark, damp path toward the village.

Molly's soft complaints mingled with the rustling of her footsteps, breaking the surrounding silence.

"Ugh, why did you drag me along? I clearly said I was staying home," Molly grumbled. "One more person means one more ticket, how many more Galleon will that cost? If I used that money to buy yarn, I could knit an extra sweater for each of you this Christmas... or even just bread and spices would be nice, really..."

Because he had gotten up early, Fred's head was already foggy, and hearing his mother's incessant nagging made him feel even dizzier. "Stop nagging, Mom. Bill got the tickets from Gringotts for half price."

Molly glared at him. "Half price is enough to knit you an extra sweater."

The Weasley family children remained silent, finding their mother both disappointing and annoying at times like this.

Loren and Hermione exchanged a glance and laughed simultaneously.

Today is the day of the Quidditch World Cup final. Before dawn, they were woken up by Mrs. Weasley, had breakfast, and set off for the match. Mrs. Weasley, who was supposed to stay at home, was forcibly dragged out of the Burrow.

Despite grumbling about how inconsiderate the others were, Mrs. Weasley's ever-present smile betrayed her joy from the moment she left the house.

George listened to his mother's nagging, nodding his head as his drowsiness gradually dissipated. He looked around and asked with some confusion, "Where are Bill, Charlie, and Percy?"

"Don't they Apparition?" Molly straightened her baseball jacket, awkwardly twisting her waist. The tight jeans she wore made her uncomfortable. "So they can sleep in a little longer."

"So they're still fast asleep?" Fred asked, annoyed. "Why can't we Apparition too?"

"Because you're not old enough and haven't passed the test..." Molly couldn't help but adjust the thin leather belt on her pants, and couldn't help but look at Arthur, who was dressed similarly, and asked, "Do we really look like Muggle? Why are they dressed like this?"

"Of course, darling, Muggle love to dress like this." Arthur looked somewhat smug. He raised his head, spread his arms, and turned to ask, "Harry, Loren, Hermione, do I look like Muggle like this?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley!" Loren replied solemnly, "You look exactly like a Muggle!"

Hermione tried to suppress her laughter.

Arthur was extremely pleased with their reactions. "Harry, what do you think?"

"Very good, 100% Muggle," Harry said with a smile. He glanced at the village ahead and asked, "Are we going to walk to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"No, no, no, that's too far. We only need to walk a short distance," Arthur explained. "It's very difficult to gather a large number of wizards together without attracting much attention from Muggle, especially on a grand occasion like the Quidditch World Cup. So the Ministry of Magic has to be very careful... choosing the most suitable location and the time when it's least likely to attract the attention of Muggle."

Ginny rubbed her sleepy eyes. "Is this why we got up so early to travel?"

Molly pulled her into her arms and tenderly rubbed her head.

Harry looked at Arthur again and asked curiously, "So how can everyone get there without attracting the attention of Muggle?"

"The organization is really difficult. The main problem is that about 100,000 wizards are coming to watch the Quidditch World Cup, and the Ministry of Magic can't find a magical venue that can accommodate so many people without being noticed by Muggle."

Arthur sighed, "As you know, the Muggle are expanding their reach very quickly. In recent years, even the primeval forests where Unicorn live and the islands where giants hide have had near-discoveries, apparently because of satellites or something... Perhaps in a few years, the Quidditch World Cup will no longer be able to be held. We won't be able to hide 100,000 wizards and a bunch of players Accio in the sky without being discovered by the Muggle."

Loren looked up at Mr. Weasley, surprised to find such a secret.

He thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Wouldn't it be better to go somewhere like Diagon Alley, where Muggle can't get in?"

Hermione looked at Arthur with equal curiosity.

"Oh, good question..." Arthur looked up at the Ottery St Catchpole ahead, where the villagers were still fast asleep. "There are places where you can avoid Muggle, but imagine how we could possibly cram 100,000 wizards into Diagon Alley or Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

Breathing in the damp mist, they walked through the village paths toward Stoat Hill on the other side of the village, and the group, who had been drowsy and confused, gradually woke up.

Arthur calmly recounted the Ministry of Magic's preparations for the Quidditch World Cup: "So we had to find a deserted swamp and take all precautions against Muggle. The entire ministry was busy with this for several months."

"First, we must stagger everyone's arrival times. Those with cheaper tickets will have to arrive two weeks in advance. Some people will use Muggle transportation, but only a portion. We can't let too many people crowd Muggle buses and trains."

"Wizards from all over the world are coming here, and some of them use Apparition, so we must designate some safe places for them to Apparate, away from all the Muggle. I heard that the ballpark is located next to a forest, which can be used as a landing point for Apparition."

Arthur shrugged. "For those who are unwilling or unable to Apparition, we use the Portkey."

"Portkey?" Harry repeated.

"You know what Portkey is, right? Its purpose is to transport wizards from one place to another within a specified time. If needed, it can be used to transport a large number of people."

Arthur pointed to the Stoat Hill, which was shrouded in the morning mist and could be vaguely seen in the distance. "The Department of Magical Transportation has placed two hundred Portkey all over England. The one closest to us is on the top of Stoat Hill. We'll go there now."

"What kind of Portkey?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ah, all sorts of things, all kinds." Arthur was very talkative. "Of course, most of them are unremarkable things, so Muggle won't pick them up and play with them; they'll think someone just threw them away..."

Listening to Arthur's rambling account, it was already half an hour later when the group arrived at the foot of the mountain. The cold mountain wind blew down the slope, as if trying to freeze their hands and feet.

"Hey, Arthur, over here! Come on over!" A gruff voice suddenly rang out, breaking the silence of the night. A middle-aged wizard stood under a tree, waving at them.

"Hey, Amos!"

Arthur smiled and strode forward, with the others silently following behind.

The middle-aged wizard, with a warm smile on his ruddy face, shook hands with Arthur, his short brown beard twitching, looking somewhat comical. "You've kept me waiting for ages!"

"Sorry Amos, our kitten likes to stay in bed!"

Ron yawned and said listlessly to the people around him, "He's talking about Crookshanks, right?"

George laughed out loud, "It could also be Ronnie the kitten."

As Arthur shook hands, he introduced him warmly, "This is Amos Diggory. He's my colleague, and he works in the Magical Creature Management and Control Department."

Before he finished speaking, a nimble figure leaped down from the tree and landed steadily beside Amos Diggory.

"This tall young man must be Cedric, right?" Arthur said with a smile.

"Yes, sir." Cedric leaned forward and smiled at Loren and the others behind him. "Hey, hello there."

"Hello!" George and Fred winked and smiled at him.

Harry nodded somewhat awkwardly.

Loren gave Cedric a meaningful look... Friend, your face is dark; you're in for a bloody disaster.

Amos Diggory looked kindly at the long line of young wizards, then turned to Arthur: "Are these all your children?"

"Oh no, the redhead is the one," Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "This is Hermione, this is Loren, this is Harry, they are all Ron's friends."

"Harry?" Amos Diggory's eyes widened. He looked at Arthur, then at Harry, his gaze lingering on the lightning bolt-shaped scar. "My God, you mean Harry, Harry Potter?"

Harry was used to such looks and gave him a calm smile, "Yes, that's right."

"Oh, Ced talked about you. He told us about his match against you last year, and I said, 'Hey, Ced, you can tell your grandchildren about this when you're old, it's amazing...'" Amos Diggory paused, deliberately lowering his voice, "You beat Harry Potter!"

"Harry fell off the broom because of the Dementor ..." Cedric looked very helpless. "Dad, I told you, it was an accident. We had a rematch, and Harry was the winner."

"Yeah, but you didn't fall, did you?" Amos Diggory shook his head. "Our Seid is always so humble, always so gentlemanly... I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't he? One person falls off the broom while the other stays perfectly still. You don't need a genius's brain to tell who the better player is!"

Harry didn't know how to answer, so he could only manage a forced smile. Cedric gave him an apologetic look.

Molly couldn't stand it anymore, so she reached out and pulled Harry and the other young wizards into her arms, then started walking up the mountain. "Arthur, we'll go up first, you guys can chat in the back..."

George and Fred put their hands on Cedric's shoulders and pulled him away, leaving the two middle-aged men alone together.

"Oh, okay." Arthur watched them walk away, somewhat bewildered.

Amos Diggory also found it strange, but didn't think much of it.

Molly whispered in their ears, "I know he's very proud to have such a great son, I can understand that, but it's really rude of him to use Harry as a stepping stone to praise someone else..."

Harry felt a warm glow inside and said shyly in a low voice, "It's nothing..."

"But I feel uncomfortable," Molly said frankly.

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was snuggled up to Harry, and her eyes flashed with the same sly smile.

Amos Diggory and Arthur walked behind, and the faint sounds of their conversation drifted over. They belatedly realized that Cedric's father was probably a chatterbox.

"Was it a long walk, Arthur?"

"Luckily, we live on the other side of the village. What about you?"

"Don't even mention it. Sed and I got up at two o'clock. It would be fine if it were just me, but to be honest, I really wish he could pass the Apparition test sooner."

"Is... is that so?" Arthur scratched his head. His son hadn't graduated yet, had he?

"But there's nothing to complain about. It's the Quidditch World Cup, you can't miss it, even if it costs a whole bag of Galleon —in fact, the tickets did cost that much. But I managed to get through it, it wasn't too difficult..."

Every now and then, he would trip over a hidden rabbit hole or slip on the dark, sticky grass. Dragging his severely sleep-deprived body uphill, Amos Diggory's voice gradually grew softer, and soon he could barely speak.

As the sky gradually brightened, the once pitch-black sky began to glow, and a faint gray-green hue appeared in the clouds above the mountaintop, indicating that dawn was slowly approaching.

The group finally reached the top of the mountain and their feet touched the flat ground.

"Oh..." Arthur said breathlessly, "Not bad, we're right on time... ten more minutes..."

Amos Diggory pressed one hand to his chest, feeling a sharp pain with each breath. "Huff... Back... I must... suggest to the Department of Magical Transportation... Next time, have them leave the Portkey at the foot of the mountain..."

The others nodded in agreement.

Arthur squinted and looked around. "Now we just need to find the Portkey, it's not very big... hurry up and look..."

Loren raised his eyelids slightly, his eyes twitching a few times. The thing was radiating a bright Magic Power glow, impossible for him to ignore.

He pointed to an old, moldy boot on a mound of earth not far away and asked, "Mr. Weasley, is that it?"

Amos Diggory hurried over. "Oh, of course, that's right, that's right..."

"Children, come here!" Arthur called out. "As soon as you touch the Portkey, just stick out one finger like this..."

The others gathered around, forming a circle on the windswept mountaintop, and placed their index fingers on the old boots.

Amos Diggory shouted excitedly, "Ready! Three... two... one!"

"Ahhh—"

It seemed as if a hook was suddenly and irresistibly pulling them forward from behind their navels. They were involuntarily lifted forward by the hook, flying rapidly forward in a gust of wind, unable to see anything clearly. Their index fingers were tightly stuck to their boots, as if by a powerful magnetic force.

A strong feeling of weightlessness came over them, and they involuntarily fell downwards. They didn't know how much time had passed before they staggered and fell onto a soft patch of ground.

"5:07, from Stoat Hill," a cold voice said.