Chapter 324 :Quidditch World Cup (I)
Attending a Quidditch match—especially the opening ceremony—means waking up early. Not because the game itself starts early, but because of the extensive preparations required at the Quidditch World Cup venue.
On a good day, a Quidditch match may finish in a few hours. On a bad one, it could go on for days. The last Cup match lasted five. Of course, the World Cup isn't determined by a single match—it's a series of games, and the final score is tallied at the end. In fact, the entire tournament can take more than half a year to conclude.
Some spectators only come for a few games, which is understandable. But many prefer to witness the whole tournament, meaning they must arrange long-term accommodation. Given the wizards' passion for Quidditch, most want to stay the entire duration unless truly necessary to leave.
The venue itself is vast, with magical tents—expanded with Traceless Extension Charms—set up to house the thousands of witches and wizards. Even so, a large area is needed, and coordinating this with Muggles requires constant use of the Memory Charm to avoid exposure.
All of this—planning, logistics, magical concealment—demands months of preparation. That's why spectators are asked to arrive early, even days or weeks before the Cup begins.
In fact, the Ministry of Magic had started preparations several months in advance. With over a hundred thousand wizards expected to attend, hosting it somewhere like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was out of the question. Remote moors or uninhabited swamps were typically chosen, with arrivals staggered to avoid attention.
Because Phineas and his friends had exclusive passes from the Black family, they only needed to arrive on the morning of the opening day. Others—those with cheaper tickets—had to arrive as early as two weeks in advance, using either Muggle transport or magical means, as stated on the ticket.
In the early hours of Monday morning, Leah gently tapped Phineas on the shoulder.
"Phineas, we should go."
He opened his eyes groggily and looked at her, blinking in confusion. Her sleepy expression was slightly surprised—perhaps she hadn't fully woken up yet.
Phineas rubbed his eyes and closed them again briefly, as if rebooting himself. Then, remembering why Leah had come, he sat up and muttered, "Alright. I'll get up now."
Leah turned and left, giving him privacy to change—despite being engaged, she still found it awkward to watch him dress.
Phineas dressed quickly, washed up, and headed downstairs.
Everyone was already gathered in the upstairs living room, yawning over breakfast.
"How are we getting there?" Harry asked eagerly as Phineas entered.
Despite Draco no longer antagonizing him—thanks to Phineas—Harry had still made the Gryffindor team as Seeker in first year, and his love for Quidditch remained as strong as ever.
"We're using a Portkey," said Sirius, descending from upstairs with a mug of coffee. Clearly, he'd been awake for some time but had stayed in his room.
Sirius, having spent twelve years in Azkaban, was understandably excited—he'd missed two World Cups. It had been far too long since he last watched a match.
Hope glanced at him curiously. "No Apparition? I thought Phineas could Apparate."
Sirius nodded. "He can. So can I. But the girls can't, and Side-Along Apparition isn't pleasant. The Portkey's a much better option for everyone."
Phineas added, "And the Black family Portkey is keyed directly to our private site. It's actually more convenient."
He continued, "We could've slept in longer, but I thought you might want to decorate your rooms once we arrive. The match starts this afternoon—we'll go now to confirm our place and get settled in."
The girls, clearly excited about seeing the Quidditch World Cup for the first time, nodded and returned to their breakfasts.
Though it was still early, the house-elves had prepared a lavish spread, allowing everyone to eat to their liking.
About half an hour later, when they'd finished, Sirius stood up.
"The Portkey can't appear within the Fidelius-protected house. We have to walk a bit."
The group left 12 Grimmauld Place and headed to the square. It wasn't far—though the Ministry didn't know the exact address, they knew the general area, and arranged for the Portkey to appear nearby.
Soon, they reached an alley where a hat suddenly materialised on the ground.
"There's our Portkey!" Sirius said brightly.
Phineas turned to Hermione. "You know how Portkeys work, don't you?"
Hermione lifted her chin proudly. "A Portkey is an enchanted object that transports whoever touches it to a specific location. It's usually an ordinary item to avoid Muggle attention. And it feels like a hook pulling behind your navel."
She had clearly memorised it straight from a textbook, as expected.
Phineas nodded and explained to Harry, "Most Portkeys have expiry times. But this one—prepared for the Black family—doesn't. It uses a password."
Sirius checked his pocket watch. "Time to go. Just touch the Portkey with a finger."
They formed a circle around the hat.
"Ready?" Sirius asked.
Everyone nodded.
"The password is: Pure-Blood First!"
As soon as he spoke, Phineas felt the familiar lurch—like being hooked behind the navel. Wind whipped around him, and everything spun into a blur.
Despite being familiar with Apparition, he never quite got used to Portkey travel.
Thankfully, it didn't last long. Moments later, they landed with a thud.
A voice greeted them.
"Plot Four-Ten, Black family. Welcome, young masters."
Phineas helped Leah land and looked around.
They stood in a foggy, swampy area. The moisture in the air seemed to energise the small water elemental perched on Leah's shoulder.
Two tired-looking wizards stood nearby—one with a golden pocket watch, the other holding a roll of parchment and quill.
Upon seeing Phineas, both bowed respectfully.
"Where's the Black family's tent?" Phineas asked calmly.
"One moment," said the wizard with the parchment. "Ah yes, your camp is six miles ahead, at the centre of the site. Mr. Roberts is the manager. Anything else we can assist you with, Master Black?"
Phineas waved dismissively. "No, thank you."
He led the group through the misty swamp. The fog made it hard to see, and it took about twenty minutes to reach a small stone house surrounded by hundreds of oddly-shaped tents, clustered all the way to the distant woods.
A Muggle man stood outside—clearly identifiable by his neat clothes and distinctly non-magical demeanor. His expression was a little vacant, likely due to repeated Memory Charms.
"Good morning," Phineas said politely.
"Good morning," the man replied.
"Mr. Roberts, I presume?"
"Yes, and you are—?"
"Black. We have a reservation."
Roberts consulted his notes. "Ah yes. Your tent's ready—it's inside the camp, clearly marked and set up as requested."
Phineas nodded. The others behind him had to deal with tent assignments and Muggle currency, but he and his party continued on.
As they passed through rows of tents, Phineas grumbled, "I told them—pure-blood family tents should be placed on the outskirts. It's too crowded walking in here. Honestly, the World Cup only happens because families like ours fund it."
He turned to Harry with a grin. "By the way, I believe the Potter family has a share in the Cup's sponsorship. You should contact the Department of Magical Games and Sports and claim the dividends for the last two tournaments."
Though most wizards tried to disguise their tents to look Muggle-like, some got carried away—adding chimneys, weather vanes, or ornate entrances that gave them away immediately.
Eventually, they reached the Black family's tent—decorated with their crest and shaped like a tall building, with decorative towers and balloons. It was flashy, yet styled after Muggle aesthetics.
Phineas explained, "Wizards rarely gather in such numbers, so they tend to show off. The Black family's original tent looked like a four-story castle with gardens and fountains. I asked the Ministry to tone it down to this."
Just then, Sirius returned. "You're slow," he joked. "This isn't a bad spot—the pitch is just beyond the woods."
He pointed. Though nearby, there were still dozens of empty plots between them and the forest.
"Alright, let's go in."
The inside of the tent was magically enlarged, of course—complete with kitchen, bathroom, living room, and six bedrooms.
Phineas clapped his hands. "Alright, girls—you can decorate your rooms. Supplies should be in the boxes in the living room."
With that, he stepped outside and began casting protective enchantments around the tent.