I'm not going to bore you with a long intro this time, I always say I'll try and be faster with chapters but I never am so I'm sorry, but I hope you all enjoy this new chapter.

The radio crackled in the small booth that Gary occupied, waiting for the last of the VIP guests to arrive at their lots. He still couldn't believe he had met both Cornelius Fudge and Harry Potter in one night, although he would have preferred it if he wasn't being yelled at at the time. The sky was darkening quickly and the match would be starting before long but no amount of hitting and charming would make Gary's radio find the right channel for the pre-match commentary. He was just hearing Ludo Bagman's voice through the static when the sound of footsteps approaching distracted him and rightfully enough the figure of an elderly man began to form out of the darkness.

"Hello there," Gary called out as the figure approached, "not long before everyone will be heading to the stadium, hope you've got your skates on." Gary chuckled and grabbed his clipboard, stepping out of his booth and noticing only too late that the man had taken out his wand.

"Imperio," the man said as he drew closer and Gary's mind felt liberated. Suddenly all of his worries were wiped away, leaving him relaxed and carefree.

I am a VIP guest meant for the Minister's Box, you will let me pass, the old man's voice echoed through Gary's empty mind and Gary felt no obligation to argue with him.

"You can head through to the stadium, sir. Follow the path and it will lead you straight there," Gary said.

You will tell me where Harry Potter's tent is located, the voice ordered and, without really meaning to, Gary looked up Mister Potter's lot and told the man everything. You will not remember that I was here or what I look like. You will return to your booth and continue with your night as if I was never here.

Gary blinked fervently as his mind returned to him and he found himself stood away from his booth, all alone with his clipboard. He tried to remember what had brought him away from his post but he couldn't recall anything. Suddenly Ludo Bagman's voice boomed out of the radio from nearby, already in thick conversation with Mullet Senior, a former beater for the Irish and father of one of the chasers playing in the match. This was enough to make Gary forget all about why he was out in the field and perch himself next to the radio, waiting for the match to begin.

Harry reviewed himself in the mirror as he finished fixing his tie, letting it rest against his white shirt and wondering if he should charm it to stay in place. Deciding against it, he stood back and checked himself before turning around dramatically to face the bed, on which a black cat lay, sleeping.

"So, Detective Whiskers, what do you think?" Harry said as he posed in several stances with ridiculous facial expressions. Whiskers' response was simply to look up at him with tired eyes for a few moments before resting their head once again on the bed. "Thanks," Harry said as he looked one final time in the mirror and noticed the lightning shaped scar protruding out from under his hair. "I suppose I'd better not cover you up tonight, or I'll have even more conspiracy theories about me going around." Harry collected himself, fixed his blazer one last time and headed for the door. Turning back just before he left, he addressed Whiskers: "Don't forget to head back to the Burrow, you don't want to be caught here by any security." Whiskers' tail swished in the air in acknowledgement, so Harry closed the door and returned to the lounge.

As Harry stepped foot in the living room once again, Sirius mirrored him across the room dressed in elegant dress robes of black and red. He froze when he saw Harry and eyed him for a moment.

"Found the place okay then?" Harry asked as he adjusted his cufflinks, having noticed that Sirius seemed to be stuck in place.

"You look just like your father, Harry," Sirius said, completely disregarding Harry's attempt at conversation.

"Let me guess," Harry said with a laugh, "except for my eyes? Now I wonder whose eyes I might have."

"It really is a mystery," Sirius chuckled as he stood before Harry and clapped his hand on his shoulder. "They'd both be very proud of you, Harry."

There was a moment of silence between them before a small cough brought their attention to Madame Malkin who stood by the door to Hermione's room.

"Gentlemen," she said with a triumphant smile, "may I present Miss Hermione Granger."

Harry felt himself tense as Hermione stepped out, entranced by the girl that stood before him. Her hair was no longer bushy but sleek and curled over her shoulder, dressed in a crimson coloured, silk mermaid dress.

"I'll let them know we're on our way," Sirius muttered to Harry with a knowing smile. Harry nodded without removing his eyes from Hermione as she began to walk towards him, somehow more elegantly than usual. Did she usually walk like that?

"So," she said, almost nervously as she stopped in front of Harry, "what do you think?"

"Hermione, you look..." Harry said but was at a loss for words for what to say next. He wanted to tell her that she was the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on, that he never wanted to take his eyes off her, but he couldn't possibly admit that to her. Thanking Merlin that veela magic didn't affect him, Harry finished: "... you look breath-taking."

"Why thank you, Mister Potter," Hermione giggled, "you look very handsome, yourself."

They watched each other for a moment before Harry realised that Madam Malkin was still with them. Pulling his attention away from Hermione he thanked Madam Malkin and insisted she join them for the match, but she politely refused.

"I'm afraid Quidditch never quite piqued my interest, but thank you for the offer. Now you two go on and enjoy your night, the match will be over before you know it," Madam Malkin said and, with another round of thanks from both Harry and Hermione, she threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and vanished. A few moments later, the flames turned green once more as Harry scattered some more Floo powder into them and stepped in, holding out his hand for Hermione to join him.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Always," Hermione replied as she took his hand and stepped into the fireplace beside him.

"Grate one-one-five, Trillenium Stadium," Harry said and the tent vanished from sight.

Hermione was surprised to find herself stepping out of the fireplace into a large, circular room, the walls of which were lined with other identical fireplaces, occasionally bursting into life with very elegantly dressed men and women stepping out of them. There was one exit across the room from them and there seemed to be an awful lot of noise and lights coming from the doorway. Hermione felt her dress shimmer as Harry charmed the pair of them to remove any soot from their clothes and Sirius approached.

"Okay, here's the situation: it seems that Skeeter hag has leaked that you're here and now every reporter out there wants a picture of you, they're not even bothering with most of the other guests in case they miss you. I can sneak you in through the back if you'd rather avoid them," he said.

"I'll go to them," Harry said, peaking at the crowds of paparazzi outside, "it's just another day at the office. I understand if you don't want to go out there though, Hermione."

If Hermione was honest the last thing she wanted was to go out in front of all the cameras, but she also recognised that not many people have the opportunity to walk the red carpet at the Wizarding World's most prestigious sporting event. With a deep breath she agreed to go out with Harry, and thankfully he told her that if she wanted to leave at any point then Sirius would escort her away, all she needed to do was signal to him. Sirius nodded and walked away, positioning himself near the doorway so he would be able to watch them the entire walk down the carpet. Harry and Hermione followed him and stopped just before the exit, only a small barricade now blocking them from the crowd outside. Hermione's throat suddenly felt significantly tighter, her head much warmer and a the same time freezing. Her hand twitched as she felt another slide into it and felt Harry's fingers twist with hers.

"Shall we?" Harry asked with a smile. Hermione didn't move for a moment then, with the slightest of nods, they began to walk together.

Instantly the flashes surrounded them, cameras snapping all around them and reporters calling out for attention. Hermione was temporarily blinded and had only Harry to guide her, who seemed too used to the glaring lights for them to affect him. They walked a short distance before a voice called out for Harry that he seemed to recognise and they made for the reporter.

"Jim Hampstead, Junior Sports Journalist for the Prophet," Harry whispered to Hermione as they approached. Harry greeted Jim like old friends and gave a short interview before being asked for photos.

"Some together and some solo if it pleases, Mister Potter," Jim said as he nudged his photographer, who was fumbling with the flash on the camera.

"No problem, Jim," Harry said as gently placed his arm around Hermione's waist - which Hermione couldn't say she didn't thoroughly enjoy - and Hermione did the same. A few quick flashes and Harry was stepping back for Hermione to have her photo taken. With absolutely no idea what to do, Hermione simply adjusted her pose a little and smiled as the flashes blinded her once more, shifting slightly every few seconds. Thankfully they were quickly satisfied and their attention moved to Harry. It was clear that this was not the first time Harry had been in front of the cameras and he owned the moment. Hermione was held in slight awe of him when she heard someone calling her name.

"Granger! Miss Granger!"

Hermione turned and spotted Rita Skeeter a little down the carpet, waving her hands and gesturing for Hermione to come to her.

"Yes, Miss Skeeter?" Hermione sighed and she reluctantly made her way over to Rita.

"Hello dear! I was just wondering if you'd honour me with an interview?"

"I doubt I would be of much interest to your readers, Miss Skeeter," Hermione said, trying to sound as polite as possible but not managing to put off Rita.

"Oh poppycock, Hermione, many of my readers are young girls all looking for a role model to look up to, and they're dying to hear about Harry Potter's new lady."

Hermione froze for a second.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"You and Harry. Together. Everybody loves a bit of gossip and you, my friend, are the latest scoop."

"No, me and Harry- we're not-" Hermione tried to explain herself but couldn't find the words and Rita was jumping in at every instance.

"Not officially together yet? So this is an exclusive? Oh, Hermione you are naughty-"

"No- Harry and I are just-"

"A young couple in love, living life as normally as possible, that's excellent! A good relatable article always pulls the reader in-"

"Wait, this is Potter's girl?" another reporter chimed in, dragging his camera away from an old man further down the line and focussing it on Hermione.

"Get out of here, Dee, this is my story," Rita barked at him and tried shoving herself in front of him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Skeeter, you can keep your story, I'm only after some pictures. Go on, pose for us, will you?" Dee said, already taking pictures of Hermione before she had time to react.

"I'm sorry but I'm not anybody's-" Hermione began but was cut off by more voices and the echoing of more cameras flashing.

"This way, Miss Granger! Over here!"

FLASH

"What do you think of Mister Krum?"

"How long have you been with Mister Potter?"

FLASH

"Who are you wearing?"

FLASH

"What's your prediction for the match?"

"Go on, give us a smile!"

FLASH

The constant flashing was completely blurring her vision and her head was pounding. She could feel her breathing rapidly increase, her eyes trying to find anywhere that wasn't a camera to recover. Then Hermione felt a hand gently grab her arm and was relieved to see Sirius stood beside her.

"Shall we head inside, Miss Granger?" he asked kindly and Hermione nodded. She turned with Sirius and was very glad he had been keeping an eye on her as the onslaught of questions was too much for her. Suddenly she felt another, much rougher hand grab her arm and try pulling her back.

"Oi! Where you off to, darling?" the reporter named Dee yelled, his eyes shining in a way that Hermione didn't like. To Hermione's shock, several other reporters were also trying to reach her, while the others were violently snapping pictures. Hermione tried to pull her arm away but Dee was too strong and his grip on her tightened. Sirius reached for his wand but before he had chance Dee screamed and quickly let go of Hermione. When Hermione looked to see what had happened she was surprised to see Harry with his hand wrapped around Dee's wrist like a vice, the skin underneath his palm burning red.

"That's not very nice," Harry said coldly as Dee continued to contort and try to escape. "I think you'd better apologise."

"ARGH! I'm-" Dee was trying to speak but the pain seemed too much for him. "I- SHIT!"

"I can't hear you," Harry said, his voice never raising, "and neither can Miss Granger."

"FUCK! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please!"

Harry didn't move for a moment, his eyes fixed on Dee who was close to tears. The other reporters watched in horror, none of them daring to speak or move, as Harry continued.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice weak. Harry's head whipped towards her and she saw, for the briefest of moments, a darkness in Harry's eyes. It lingered only for a moment before vanishing, the anger that was there moments before quelled. With a sigh Harry released his grip on Dee and watched as the marks on his skin instantly faded away.

"Sirius," Harry said, his voice softer now, "might I ask you to escort Hermione inside?"

Sirius nodded and gently placed his arm around Hermione, leading her away from Harry and blocking any other reporters from confronting them. A doorman dressed in a blue uniform beckoned them inside the stadium as they drew nearer and the noise from outside became nothing but a low hum. They had entered what looked like a foyer filled with people that Hermione didn't recognise, mingling and talking in small groups. Several doorways stemmed off from this room although none of them seemed open yet as they were guarded by doormen in the same blue uniform that stood outside. A large bar spanned the right-hand wall of the room with many bartenders taking orders, moving without pause.

"Are they always like that?" Hermione asked, brushing her dress down as Sirius watched the door for Harry.

"Not usually," he replied, "sometimes they can get a little too excited but it's rare. Evidently there was something about you they liked."

"That Skeeter woman was yelling about how she thought Harry and I were together, maybe it was that?" Hermione suggested.

"Maybe," Sirius said, although he didn't sound entirely convinced, "Skeeter does have a mouth too big for her own good. If she's not careful, one day somebody will shut it for her."

At that moment the door swung open and Harry strode in, nodding politely to the doorman as he made his way over to Hermione and Sirius.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he joined them, scanning Hermione up and down.

"I'm fine, really, just a little disoriented," Hermione said and Sirius mentioned something about grabbing them some drinks and headed for the bar. Once he was far enough away Hermione moved in a little closer to Harry. "Are you alright?" She whispered, but Harry's eyebrow raised.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"There was something different about you back there, I saw it in your eyes."

"Been looking at my eyes a lot, have you?" Harry said, flashing that signature grin of his. Hermione didn't reply, her eyebrows raised in coy disapproval as Harry sighed. "Another time, Hermione. Let's just enjoy the night while we can, hmm?"

Hermione wanted to say no, to press Harry further and get some answers from him, but she could see on Harry's face that this was something he didn't want to talk about just yet. Hermione nodded and not a moment later a few very familiar figures came out of the crowd towards them.

"Harry! Hermione! Everything alright?" Arthur said jovially as Fred, George, Ron and Luna all emerged from behind him.

"We heard you burned a someone's hand off, Harry!" Fred said with a huge grin.

"Nice move," George said from beside his brother, "please tell me you kept the hand as a memento."

"That's quite enough, boys," Arthur said, "Harry, I was wondering if you might help me out with this camera, I can't quite get it to work."

Harry stepped aside with Arthur as Fred and George mentioned something about a man called Ludo Bagman and disappeared into the throng of people again. Luna turned to Ron and asked him to fetch a drink for her and once he'd gone she whipped round to face Hermione, her face suddenly very serious.

"What happened?" Luna asked quickly.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, "I was talking to Rita Skeeter, she was rambling about me and Harry being together-"

"Which you're not?" Luna asked.

"Which we're not," Hermione said firmly.

"Were you using your powers?"

"No, no. At least not intentionally, I don't really even know what I can do or how to."

"You need to be careful," Luna said with a sigh, "I know it's not your fault but if you want this to stay a secret you need to get things under control."

"I know," Hermione said but their conversation was cut short by Sirius returning with a small glass of water for Hermione.

"The other VIP areas aren't ready yet but since we're in the Minister's Box we can go to our seats whenever you're ready," Sirius said after greeting Luna and the Weasleys.

"Well we're ready when you are, we were just waiting for you to arrive before we went ourselves," Arthur said and the group made their way over to a door at the end of the bar manned by several doormen and guards. They were stopped for a brief moment before one of the guards spotted Harry and waved the group through, checking several names off a list he had beside him.

"Maybe I should apologise to the Minister," Harry whispered to Hermione as they passed through the door and up many flights of steps. "Having everyone know your name certainly has its benefits."

It was some time before they finally arrived at another set of doors, guarded on both sides by two men in formal dress robes. Fortunately they didn't bother with formalities and opened the doors as the group approached, closing it behind them once everybody was in. The room looked like it came straight out of a period piece, with many luxurious sofas and chairs laid out across the room, rugs of fine fur covered much of the floor, a fireplace blazed by the door beside them, filling the room with a cosy atmosphere. Paintings of many different subjects lined the walls, some of wizards and witches from the past talking with each other, others completely static paintings that looked rather out of place amongst all the others. The only wall that wasn't decorated was, upon closer inspection, more akin to a huge window facing the pitch and Hermione almost had to sit down when she realised just how high up they were.

"Don't worry, nobody's falling from here," Harry said, handing Hermione a drink and taking a sip of his own. Hermione raised the glass to her lips before stopping.

"This isn't water," Hermione said.

"Golly, Detective, what makes you say that?" Harry said in a mock radio voice, smiling at Hermione's expression. "I'm afraid the bar up here doesn't sell many soft drinks beside water and juice, and after the commotion outside I thought you might like something a little stronger."

Hermione had to admit that she had developed a liking for firewhisky since knowing Harry, something she wasn't entirely sure her mother would approve of but, on the other hand, her mother wasn't here to stop her.

"Hold on a second!" George said from not too far away, "If Harry and Hermione are drinking surely we can too?"

"Absolutely not!" said Arthur, "Your mother would kill me if she found out! Besides, you're underage, it wouldn't be right."

"Not to worry, Mr Weasley, the bar here has special permission from the Minister to turn a blind eye to the ages of its patrons tonight. And I'm sure we can keep a couple of secrets from Molly, can't we Arthur?" Harry said and Hermione thought she saw him half-wink at Fred and George when Arthur wasn't looking, who looked rather conflicted.

"One, you can have one drink, alright? No more after that," Arthur said to the Weasley children after much internal deliberation, raising a single finger in the air dramatically.

"Of course, dad," George said, smirking.

"Wouldn't dream of it, father," said Fred as the pair made their way over to the bar at the other end of the room.

At that moment the doors to the Minister's Box swung open and many in the room rose to their feet as Cornelius Fudge entered. Fudge greeted many in the room, including Arthur, but seemed to be avoiding Harry which Hermione could see he was only too happy about. The enormous arena outside was beginning to look very full and the start of the match loomed every closer, such that Ginny had already perched herself as close to the window as possible, her omnioculars primed and ready for action.

"Mister Potter," a voice said from behind Harry and Hermione and they turned to see a tall man with long, straight, blond hair that was almost white and an ornate cane with a serpent's head as a handle.

"Mr Malfoy," Harry replied, shaking Lucius' hand firmly. "I was starting to think you weren't going show. Lovely cane, by the way, we must talk designers some time. This is Hermione Granger, a good friend of mine."

"A pleasure, Mr Malfoy," Hermione said with a mix between a small bow and courtesy which she was very glad Harry didn't laugh at.

"Oh please, call me Lucius, Miss Granger. And I wish I had heard your name for the first time under these circumstances, but unfortunately your story has swept the Ministry; neither a witch nor wizard has hidden under the Ministry's radar since its foundation and then for you to appear as if from thin air... on behalf of the Ministry I can only apologise," Lucius said.

"Thank you Mister- Lucius, I appreciate it," Hermione said.

"How's Narcissa been, Lucius? I thought you might have brought her as your plus-one tonight," Harry asked, his drink slowly emptying.

"I'm afraid even the World Cup wasn't enough to get her interested in Quidditch, not expensive enough I imagine. No, tonight my guest is Draco, he's been raving about meeting Krum for months," Lucius said, gesturing to a boy around Harry and Hermione's age sat at the bar, his hair similar to Lucius' but nowhere near as long and looking more like this event was an inconvenience as opposed to entertainment.

"Well, let's hope he acts more appropriately tonight than he usually does," Harry said disapprovingly.

"Again, I apologise for how he's behaved before-"

"Oh it's not your fault, Lucius, we just can't have another fiasco like last time."

"Why he thought he could take on five other wizards at once I will never know," Lucius said, his hands over his eyes like the very thought itself was painful.

"He's ambitious, I'll give him that. He'll do anything to prove he's the best. The only problem is..." Harry said but Lucius was a step ahead of him.

"He's not the best," Lucius said, taking a drink from his own glass and glaring at his son for a second.

Hermione went to take a sip from her own drink before realising that while Harry and Lucius had been talking she had finished it off. Excusing herself from the pair of them, Hermione made her way over to the bar and waited for the bartender to finish his orders. Something Harry had said suddenly came back to Hermione as she waited; Harry had complimented Lucius' cane and mentioned designers but Hermione couldn't recall a single time she had seen Harry with a cane anywhere in the manor. Was he just making a compliment out of courtesy? Or perhaps Harry had a secret passion for canes that he simply hadn't mentioned before? Hermione was pulled out of this train of thought by a whistling that she knew was not coming from a referee. A glance down the bar told her that Draco was trying to get her attention, whistling and calling for her from the complete other end of the bar.

"Hey! Oi, I'm talking to you," Draco called out.

"And I'm ignoring you," Hermione said, not bothering to look at him, "I think I know which of us is having more fun."

"Someone's feisty, aren't they?" Draco said as he made his way down the bar to Hermione, bringing his drink with him. "Pretty too. Who are you here with then?"

"Harry Potter," Hermione said dismissively.

"Potter?!" Draco scoffed, "What are you doing with him? Someone like you should be with a proud pureblood family, not the likes of Potter and those Weasleys."

"Excuse me?" Hermione seered, glaring at Draco now.

"Besides, I'm ten times the wizard Potter will ever be."

"Is that so?"

"Any day of the week, all he needs to do is challenge me to a duel and I'll prove it."

"Have you not considered challenging him?"

"I have, but every time I do he cheats and wins, makes me look a fool."

"I don't think it's him doing that," Hermione said.

"What did you say?" Draco growled taking a step towards Hermione but before he could do anything more he received a blunt smack to the back of the head courtesy of Lucius and his serpent-cane.

"Enough, Draco. Whatever Miss Granger said to irritate you, no doubt you deserved to hear it. Now go, get to your seat before I have a guard escort you out," Lucius said.

"You wouldn't-" Draco began but was quickly hushed when Lucius fixed his eyes upon him.

"Dont - test - me. Go," Lucius ordered and off Draco scurried. "My apologies, Miss," Lucius said before following his son.

Hermione ordered her drink at last and joined Harry back at the window to the stadium, where the seats now appeared to be completely full and she spotted a man dressed in black and white robes getting ready to mount his broom.

"Not long before the match kicks off," Harry said, his drink magically refilled since Hermione had last seen it. "You looked like you were having fun with Draco."

"He's a twat," Hermione said simply.

"You'll hear no argument from me there."

"He was insulting you."

"When isn't he?"

"And the Weasleys."

"Well I'll just jinx him twice as much next time he challenges me to a duel."

"Which he thinks you cheat at, by the way."

"He only thinks that because he can't get his wand out fast enough. Even if I waited for him to get his wand, his aim is so shoddy I could give him a two minute advantage and just walk out of the way of his spells."

"So he's an idiot?"

"Socially? Yes. In combat? Yes. Academically? Absolutely not. He's very intelligent and gets some of the best grades in the school, his only hinderance is himself. How best to explain it... let's say that if you were to put the best and worst witches and wizards into categories, Draco would be the worst of the best category, if that makes sense? If he was humble enough to understand that he's not the best and accept it then, ironically enough, he could grow to be the best."

"Sounds like just another idiot to me."

"Maybe you're right," Harry laughed and suddenly the entire room was getting into their seats or perching themselves near the window. Hermione noticed that the referee had begun to lap the stadium, rallying the audience as the mascots made their way out too. Nearby Hermione noticed Fred and George each sit in their seats with a pitcher of a very colourful drink each, defending their actions to Arthur (who appeared to have fixed his camera and was currently filming the chair next to him) by insisting that it was technically one drink each. It didn't take Hermione long to finish her own drink and the mascots were making their way back into the stands by the time a waiter came with replacements for herself and Harry.

"Good evening, one and all!" came the booming voice of Cornelius Fudge, echoing around the stadium, his face appearing across opposite ends of the stadium as if on a huge tapestry. "It is my honour to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four-hundred-and-twenty-second Quidditch World Cup. Good luck to both sides - Ireland and Bulgaria - and may the best team win. I now hand you over to our referee for the evening, Hassan Mostafa, to begin the match."

Down on the ground at the centre of the pitch, Hermione spotted each team lift off from the ground and begin streaking around the stadium, nothing more than flashes of red and green whipping their way through the air. The Quaffle too was little more than a blur and in less than twenty seconds Ireland had scored without Hermione even realising what was happening.

"Is it usually this fast?" Hermione asked Harry.

"At this level of play, yes," Harry replied, his eyes barely moving but seemingly watching everything that was happening in the match, "These are the best players from their respective countries, flying to them is more natural than walking. Don't worry, at Hogwarts Quidditch games are much slower."

Hermione hoped Harry was right because it seemed to her that barely any time had passed by the time the whistle blew and Krum triumphantly brandished the Snitch to the crowd, despite having lost the match. Hermione jumped to her feet with the rest of the Box when the official announcement that Ireland had won the match called out around the stadium but had to steady herself when she did. She hadn't realised how much she and Harry had had to drink, though Harry seemed unaffected. Harry kept his arm ready to support Hermione until she confirmed that she was ok to stand on her own.

"I think it might be best if we head back to the tent," Harry suggested and Hermione nodded in agreement. They stood, bid Sirius and the Weasleys good night (all of whom were lost in the midst of celebration) and headed for the door to leave. Just as they reached the door, Harry stopped and turned. The sound of hurried footsteps that had caught his attention were soon revealed to be coming from a short man dressed in yellow moving quickly for the same doorway as them. "Mister Bagman, I didn't realise you were in the Minister's Box tonight."

The man's head jerked upwards, stammering.

"Oh, ugh, Mister Potter, I didn't see you there, lovely to see you but I must be going," Bagman said quickly and reached for the door but Harry placed his hand upon it first. Hermione felt a little uncomfortable; Harry seemed to be acting rather strangely towards Bagman. Why wasn't Harry letting him leave?

"Surely you're in no rush to leave, Ludo. After all, there's a pair here who look like they'd like to speak with you," Harry said, not releasing his hand from the door and gesturing to Fred and George who were making their way over to them.

"Who? Those young boys? No, no, couldn't possible be for-" Bagman babbled but Harry cut him off.

"Everything alright Fred, George?" he asked the twins.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine, Harry," said Fred.

"We just wanted to catch Mister Bagman before he left so we could arrange for him to fulfil our transaction," George explained. Ludo grimaced, still not turning to look at the twins.

"A transaction?" Harry asked, "Have my friends made a bet with you, Ludo?"

"Y-yes, yes they have but as you can see, they're very clearly underage-"

"So it was wrong of you to make a bet with them in the first place, wasn't it Ludo?" Harry pressed. Ludo didn't answer, still looking very uncomfortable. "Did Mister Bagman give you a receipt, boys?"

"Yes he did," Fred said, presenting a small slip of paper to Harry which he took and read.

"Didn't want to though," George continued.

"Tried to get away from us before we could ask for one." Fred finished.

"Everything here is legal, Ludo, and with the odds you gave them I don't really blame you for trying to make a sharp exit, but if I recall correctly in your Adherence Act of 1990 you explicitly outline that all gambling payments must be relieved to the winning party regardless of prior violations of the law as both parties were clearly willing to said bet at the time."

"Well yes, but-" Ludo tried to speak but was cut off by Harry again.

"And am I right in recalling that you wrote that Act as a result of you being denied your winnings from a legitimate establishment because, for whatever reason, the teller allowed you to place a bet on a fight that had already happened and then refused to give you your winnings when this came to light?"

"I mean, that's not entirely-"

"So the way I see it is that by all rights, you should have the money ready to pay Mister Weasley and Mister Weasley their profits immeditely."

"But you can't seriously expect me to have that much money on me right now! It's a substantial payment-"

"You should have considered that when you made the bet, Ludo," Harry said sternly, taking a step closer to Bagman. "But I suppose a little time can be given, after all it appears very clear that Mister Bagman isn't capable of paying you at the moment, lads. Shall we say... twenty four hours?" The twins nodded in approval and Bagman suddenly went very pale. "It's agreed then! Mister Bagman, you shall pay all winnings to Mister Weasley and Mister Weasley by this time tomorrow or... well, you'll be hearing from us. Goodnight Ludo, Fred, George."

And with that Harry turned with Hermione and left the Minister's Box, leaving Fred, George and Ludo to their own discussion. Hermione needed a little help getting back down the staircase again without falling but otherwise the journey back to the fireplaces was rather uneventful. Before Hermione knew it she was emerging from the fireplace into the lounge of Harry's tent.

"Well, that was rather fun," Hermione said as she brushed soot off herself, "thank you again for inviting me, Harry, and for the dress too, it's beautiful."

"Nonsense, Hermione, it was a pleasure to have you there," Harry said as he poured another pair of drinks for them, "the dress is just a dress, it's you that makes it beautiful." Hermione blushed as Harry handed her the drink with a toast, "To Ireland."

"To Ireland," Hermione smiled as they clinked their glasses and sipped. Why couldn't she take her eyes off him? And his eyes seemed to be locked to Hermione's too. Was she really that drunk? At that moment the fireplace flamed green again and Sirius came stumbling out, singing an Irish drinking song to a terrible tune.

"I should probably get him to bed," Harry laughed as Sirius fell over a small table and smashed a potted plant.

"I should probably get some sleep too," Hermione said, putting her drink down on the table beside her. She was surprised but glad when Harry gently took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he said.

"Goodnight, Mister Potter," Hermione replied, curtseying slightly before heading to her bedroom door. Before she entered she glanced back in Harry's direction, who now had Sirius' arm around him as his song came to an end. Giggling, she entered her room, changed out of her dress and fell onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Hermione woke from a dream that she didn't remember, but she suddenly felt very cold and her gut gave her an unpleasant sensation. Something wasn't right. She grabbed her wand and put on a dressing gown before making her way outside. As she approached the entrance of the tent she saw a figure stood outside, facing away from her, as if guarding something. As she drew closer she saw that it was Harry, dressed in some casual loungewear, staring out across the field of tents before him.

"Harry," Hermione said as she left the tent, "are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Harry hummed as Hermione came to stand next to him," Yeah, I'm fine. What are you doing up, though? You should be asleep."

"I was, but then I woke up."

"That is usually how sleeping works."

"Something feels wrong."

"You felt it too?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at her. Hermione nodded and Harry returned his gaze to the field. "I feel like I'm watching a glass balance on the edge of a table, waiting for it to fall," Harry said and Hermione understood exactly what he meant. It was how she felt too.

"Have the Weasleys come back yet?" Hermione asked, glancing over at the tent beside them.

"Most of them have, yes... " Harry trailed off, his eyes narrowing on the horizon. Hermione followed his gaze and saw that the horizon was a dim orange.

"It's not sunrise yet, surely?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"No, it's not," Harry muttered. Screams suddenly echoed from afar and the orange glow was accompanied by flashes of green. "Get inside," Harry said without moving, though Hermione could see his eyes were wide open. "To the fireplace. Now. Luna! Percy!"

As Harry ran to , the bald man who had escorted them to their tents came sprinting up between the rows, ringing a bell and yelling for everyone to evacuate immediately. Hermione ran inside and collected the pot of Floo powder just as Harry, Luna and the Weasleys came pouring through the opening in the tent, though it was apparent that not all of them were accounted for. It quickly came to light that Arthur, Ron and Ginny hadn't returned from the match yet so everyone under seventeen was ordered to gather in front of the fire place with someone and leave with them, while those of age could stay and help search for those missing and assist the Ministry if they wanted. After some insistence from Fred and George that they could fight too, they agreed to return home to appease Molly and vanished into the flames. While the Weasleys prepared to head out, Harry pulled Hermione aside.

"Listen, I'm going back out there to fight- please just listen- when you get back to the Burrow, send word to Remus about what's happened-"

"I'm not leaving you!" Hermione interrupted.

"You have to!" Harry said.

"Why?"

"Because- these people, if they are who I think they are, they kill people like you!"

"They can try!"

"I need to know you're safe."

"I won't leave you, Harry."

Suddenly an explosion sounded nearby and the screams were growing ever closer. All eyes looked to the tent entrance for a moment and when Harry turned his eyes back to Hermione he could see them wetting with tears.

"Please," Harry asked a final time. Hermione's face contorted in frustration before she gave in.

"You'd better come back," she said, holding back her tears as best she could.

"I will," Harry said, pulling her into a tight embrace, "I promise."

After a moment Hermione released Harry and stepped back, feeling Luna's hand gently grab hers. Her eyes never left Harry's as Luna called out for the Burrow and green flames covered her vision.

Molly was all over Hermione and Luna in a heartbeat, sitting them down at the table and fetching them hot chocolate. The rest of the Weasleys were scattered around the house, Luna had immediately moved to the living room, her hand covering her mouth, Fred and George were each pacing in opposite directions and Mrs Weasley was now sat opposite Hermione. Hermione explained what she had happened before they left, that the others had stayed behind to help fight whoever it was that was out there.

"Death Eaters," Molly muttered almost to herself, now nervously walking around the kitchen. "They're back."

"But if they're back..." George said as he and Fred joined the group at the table.

"Is he...?" Fred asked without finishing.

"No," Mrs Weasley said firmly, "we'd know if he was really back."

"But maybe this was it, like their grand opening, attacking the Quidditch World Cup would be a perfect opportunity to cause some havoc," Fred said.

"But there's countless security at the Cup, surely they'd know they would be overwhelmed?" Hermione suggested.

"Maybe winning isn't part of the plan, they're just making a statement, terrorising the people and then leaving," George said.

"And with those damn masks we'll never know who they are," Molly said, biting her nails.

Suddenly the noise of static echoed around the room and the television on the kitchen counter sprung to life, although all that came across on the screen was a black void, Mr Weasley could be heard panting as he ran, calling out different Ministry workers as he went. Mrs Weasley, Fred and George huddled around it, but Hermione felt too anxious to leave her seat. If Voldemort was back and at the Cup then he would be looking for Harry, putting him in great danger. Even if Voldemort wasn't there then his followers would surely want Harry dead for killing their master all those years ago.

"Percy! Help those... safety! Charlie... and Ludo put out those fires! Bill, with me!" Arthur's voice came through the TV mixed with static but in the background the screams could be heard clearly. There was no mention of Harry.

"He must have accidentally turned it on in the commotion," Mrs Weasley said, but nobody moved to turn the television off, desperate to know what was happening. Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She stood from the table and moved into the living room, biting her lip as she paced.

"Ron won't answer the phone," Luna said quietly, looking at the ground.

"There must be something we can do," Hermione thought out loud, "we have to go back and help."

"No," Luna said sternly, "we can't Hermione."

"Why not?" Hermione snapped, "they could die out there!"

"So could we!" Luna retorted, rising to her feet, "if we went back there we'd just be another issue, another risk." Hermione sighed heavily and, resigning herself to the situation, slumped onto the sofa beside them. Luna perched herself beside Hermione and placed a hand on hers. "Harry's the best wizard I know, Hermione. I know he means a lot to you but if you were there you'd be a distraction to him and right now he can't afford that. He'll be fine... they all will be."

As if from nowhere, out of the shadows walked the cat that Hermione had found in Harry's tent earlier. It hopped onto the arm of the sofa beside her and lay flat, enjoying the heat of the fire.

"Hey Spot," Luna said and the cat meowed in reply.

"It's called Spot?" Hermione asked, wondering why it had such a name when the cat was entirely black.

"That's what we call her," Luna replied, reeling through her phone, "Harry calls her lots of different things, not always nice."

Spot purred and wagged her tail as Hermione gently petted her. Somehow, it was relaxing, even with the noise of the television echoing in from the kitchen.

A shadow moved through the tents of the higher classed wizard families, unnoticed by those fleeing from the commotion. The fires hadn't yet reached this plot but they would before long.

Damn those fools, attacking so openly, the shadow thought, they shall pay the price in time.

For now he had to reach Potter's tent. He had failed to approach him in the Minister's Box as he was always surrounded by others, never alone for a moment. But now, with luck he wouldn't have noticed the attack yet and would still be asleep. The perfect chance to strike. He found the correct tent before long and slunk inside, keeping to the shadows as best he could. Unfortunately a quick check of the tent revealed that Potter was nowhere to be found. The shadow cursed.

Foolish boy, he must have gone to fight them. Still, would be a shame to waste this opportunity...

Less than a minute later, the shadow was stood outside Potter's tent, watching as it burned, admiring his work for a moment.

Now, the shadow thought as it turned its back to the tent and made for the burning fields beyond, the boy...

Harry stood amongst the bodies of three Death Eaters, one dead, two knocked out. He didn't bother unmasking them, the Ministry would attend to that later. For now, he had to find the Weasleys, or hope that they'd already been found by friendly faces. Harry charged through the rows of tents, narrowly avoiding fleeing innocents, when a glove hand appeared from nowhere and struck him in the face. Harry collapsed to the ground, his nose hurting so much that he suspected he had broken it again, when the masked face of a Death Eater loomed above him, wand outstretched.

"Got you now, Potter," it growled, but before Harry had a chance to react the Death Eater was struck in the side of the head by a flash of red light and toppled over. A new hand reached out for Harry and he recognised it as that of one Ronald Weasley, who pulled Harry to his feet before a quick embrace.

"Thanks man," Harry said.

"Don't mention it. Hold on," Ron said before pointing his wand at Harry's face, "brace yourself. Episkey!"

Harry couldn't help but curse as his nose repaired itself, much to Ron's amusement. Harry was about to ask where Charlie was since he had gone to look for Ron when he came sprinting round the corner towards them.

"Dad and Ginny are outnumbered! This way!" he yelled as he ran past them, Harry and Ron quickly following.

They'd been running for less than a minute when they arrived at the fight. Five death Eaters surrounded Arthur and Ginny, who were holding their ground admirably but they wouldn't last much longer.

"Levicorpus!" Harry called as he ran into the fray, sending one Death Eater flying fifty feet away. In an instant Harry, Ron and Charlie were gathered with Arthur and Ginny, the fight turning in their favour.

"It's Potter!" one of the Death Eaters yelled and the rest seemed to move anxiously.

"Well done, ten points to Slytherin!" Harry called back, wand at the ready, "you're outnumbered now, boys, so how about we have some fun, huh? Go on, who wants to go first?" None of the Death Eaters said a word. "Nobody? Guess it's up to me then. Ex-"

"Morsmordre!" a voice called from somewhere close by and all eyes turned to the sky where a large image of a skull and serpent had appeared.

"The Dark Mark," Arthur muttered and the Death Eaters simultaneously Disapparated, leaving behind columns of black smoke. Momentarily stunned, Harry realised he had already wasted time. Whoever had cast that spell needed to be caught. He sprinted in the direction the voice had come from, ignoring the calls from the Weasleys for him to wait. Following the trajectory of the spell Harry quickly found the place where the spell had been cast and, to his luck, found the caster still stood there with his wand outstretched; a short, old man in a suit that Harry didn't recognise.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry called but the old man was faster than he appeared, deflecting the spell instantly and turning his attention to Harry.

"Avada Kadavra!" the old man shot back, Harry easily dodging the blast of green and hoping it hadn't struck anybody behind him.

"Reducto!" Harry cast at the ground directly in front of the old man and the ensuing explosion was enough to topple his foe, the old man falling backwards to the ground. Harry leapt on top of him before the man had a chance to regain himself and threw his wand away. "Who are you?" Harry hissed, his own wand pressing hard into the old man's chin.

"The Dark Lord's most devoted follower," the old man growled.

"You know, it's weird, every Death Eater I meet claims to be Voldemort's most devoted follower," Harry remarked but the old man looked disgusted.

"You dare speak his name-"

"Yes I say his name but bollocks to that, what's your name?"

"Oh, now that would be telling, wouldn't it?" the old man cackled.

"Harry!" a voice called from behind them and Harry realised only too late that he had allowed himself to be distracted for the slightest moment which was enough for the old man to strike. Harry roared in pain as a dagger was plunged into his side and the old man kicked Harry off him, the dagger remaining lodged in Harry. The old man stood and darted away a little, about to Disapparate.

"Argh! Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled, jabbing his wand at the old man just as he disapparated, a howl of pain letting him know his spell had hit its mark. Allowing himself a small grin through the pain, Harry clutched the knife in his side and yanked it out as rushed footsteps came closer and closer to him. Harry placed his hands upon the wound and tried to heal it but to no avail. Now Harry allowed himself to panic a little; this was the first wound he had received that he couldn't heal which could only mean one thing.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?" Arthur asked as he rushed to Harry's side.

"No, I'm not alright, Arthur... but neither is that bastard now, so that's a plus," Harry groaned, keeping his wound closed as best he could. "Get the knife, Arthur, it's imbued with dark magic, I need to study it."

Arthur called for one of the Weasleys to safely collect the knife before placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"We need to get you out of here, Harry, we're going to Apparate to the Burrow."

"No Arthur, it's too dangerous," Harry growled through the pain.

"You'll be fine, Harry, it's safe to Apparate while injured-"

"I'm not talking about the Apparating, Arthur," Harry said.

"We'll deal with that when it's a problem, ready?"

"No," Harry said but Arthur had Disapparated anyway, lurching Harry away from the field and he suddenly found himself at the Burrow.

Hermione, Luna and Molly had immediately set to clearing the table when they heard that Harry was injured and when he arrived they wasted no time in lifting him onto the tabletop. In a blur of movement Arthur Disapparated again and spent the next minute or so returning his family to the Burrow, Molly inspected Harry's wound and Fred and George went out into the garden to harvest some herbs for a healing potion.

"Harry? Harry can you hear me?" Hermione asked, holding Harry's hand.

"Y-Yeah," Harry gasped, his eyes beginning to widen and close irregularly as the pain struck, his breathing becoming even more unbalanced. Luna stood over Harry's head, one hand on his forehead, as if she was waiting for him to do something. "Bastard stabbed me... I got him back though," Harry laughed but quickly groaned.

"What's happening, Mrs Weasley?" Hermione asked, her own breathing feeling hard in her throat.

"I... I don't know..." Mrs Weasley looked flummoxed as Harry howled again, "it's magic I've not seen before..."

All the Weasleys had returned at this point and were assigned different takes, such as retrieving towels from upstairs or helping Fred and George find specific plants. Harry was getting worse by the second, his face growing pale, blood starting to drip off the side of the table. After another large gasp of pain, Harry spoke quickly.

"Luna. Now." he gasped and Luna instantly placed her hand over his face, closing her eyes in deep concentration. After a moment, Harry's breathing relaxed slightly and he stopped moving.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Putting him to sleep," Luna answered.

"But he's- he's gonna be alright, isn't he?" Hermione asked, her voice catching slightly in her throat. Luna hesitated but was interrupted by Mrs Weasley, who asked Hermione to come and apply pressure to Harry's wound while she went to find a book upstairs which might have a way to help him.

Hermione hadn't had a chance to see just how bad the wound was until now. It had lodged deep into Harry, not only slicing him severely but a dark aura was ebbing out of the wound, tainting his skin like an evil bruise. Now it was just Hermione and Luna left by his side and Hermione couldn't stand it.

"You're not dying, Harry," Hermione whispered to herself as she closed her eyes, applying as much pressure as she could to the wound, "I won't let you."

You're not dying, Hermione repeated to herself in her mind, I won't let you die. Over and over Hermione focussed on this, on keeping Harry alive, pouring all the energy she had into this thought, this motivation. Through her closed eyes, Hermione saw a light begin to grow. One of the Weasleys must have come back inside, their wands still illuminated.

"Hermione...?" Luna muttered as the light grew brighter. Hermione kept her eyes closed, feeding everything she could into her desire to keep Harry alive. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished. Hermione opened her eyes to find that it was still only herself and Luna in the room, none of the Weasleys had returned from their task yet. Hermione realised she had lessened her grip on Harry's wound and immediately tried to hold it tight again but she couldn't. Looking down, she found that Harry's wound had completely healed, his skin looked as if nothing had happened at all, the only evidence left was the dried blood on her hands and the table. "Hermione... what did you do?" Luna asked, moving closer to her, but Hermione couldn't take her eyes off her bloodied hands.

"I... I don't..." Hermione tried to speak but words failed her. In a moment she felt very ill, her head was filled with air and her legs turned to jelly. She collapsed and saw nothing.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, as usual feel free to leave a review and follow/favourite, they're all appreciated. Stay safe.