Chapter 325 : Quidditch World Cup (Part 2)
Including protective enchantments, warning charms, and detection spells, Phineas took all necessary precautions—even in a formal venue like the Quidditch World Cup. Vigilance was essential.
Unlike others camping nearby, Phineas didn't bother living like a Muggle—boiling water outdoors or disguising his lifestyle. His tent was equipped with all the magical conveniences, and since it was deep in the wizard-designated area of the camp, there was no real need for concealment.
While the girls decorated their rooms, Phineas decided to take a walk around the camp.
The sun had just risen, and the thick morning fog was beginning to lift, revealing rows upon rows of magical tents in a dazzling array of colors and sizes.
Due to the staggered arrival times based on ticket tiers, many had already arrived days earlier. Wizards were now emerging from their tents, especially families with children. In the grand excitement of the World Cup, young ones were even more excitable—and mischievous.
Phineas spotted a young boy in the neighboring tent waving a wand at a wriggling Origai, clearly delighted with the spellwork.
The wand, evidently, belonged to one of the boy's parents. Phineas mused wryly—he wondered what the other parent might say about their child playing with something so essential and personal.
A sharp voice called from inside the tent. "Kevin! What are you doing with your dad's wand?!"
It was the boy's mother, and Phineas could almost see an imaginary "anger meter" rise above her head as she emerged, aghast.
Hearing the boy's name jogged Phineas's memory—he remembered the amusing scene from the original story: this was the little boy who poked a slug with a wand, only for his mother to stomp on it in a fury. The boy's final comment—"You stepped on the bug and it burst into pieces"—had stuck in Phineas's mind.
By afternoon, the opening ceremony of the Quidditch World Cup began in earnest.
Each national team entered the stadium accompanied by their mascots, who performed elaborate routines in the sky above.
The Bulgarian team's mascots—the Veela—drew particular attention. Their supernatural beauty stirred a commotion in the stands.
Thankfully, Phineas was unaffected. Had he succumbed like Sirius did, he might have been in trouble. Hope had delivered a solid punch to her father for jumping out of the box window in a trance. If Phineas hadn't intervened, Sirius might have been injured—or worse.
After the teams' grand entrances, the organizers put on a display—mostly a way to showcase the British Ministry of Magic's prowess. Dozens of Aurors performed synchronized pyrotechnic spells, conjuring a massive emblem of the Ministry in the sky.
To be honest, Phineas found the whole thing rather dull.
He and his group left shortly after the procession, uninterested in the Ministry's self-congratulatory show.
After the ceremony, excitement surged throughout the camp. Tents were now adorned with banners and flags of various teams. The Bulgarian supporters proudly displayed red, green, and white flags, while tents supporting specific players bore animated posters that waved and smiled.
Vendors wandered the cramped pathways between tents, some Apparating to avoid the crowds, peddling an array of enchanted merchandise. There were glowing badges, charmed to shout players' names, tricolor hats, and enchanted Firebolt miniatures that actually flew.
Although Sirius had never escaped from Azkaban in this timeline, and thus never gifted Harry a Firebolt in secret, thanks to Phineas's earlier actions, Sirius still gave Harry a brand-new Firebolt.
The biggest sellers were tiny moving statues of famous players. These figurines walked, smirked, and posed dramatically in buyers' palms. Many young wizards had saved for months to afford one.
Phineas, however, bought nothing. He wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch. He had come to the World Cup only to spend time with Leah after their engagement, making up for his recent seclusion.
What he did find interesting were the binoculars sold by a few vendors—panoptic telescopes loaded with dials, knobs, and runes glowing with golden light. These could replay scenes, show slow motion, and even offer commentary. At ten Galleons, they were affordable—though still expensive compared to, say, a cheap wand.
Phineas didn't buy one. The devices had a time-limited enchantment, and given the complexity of their alchemical construction, mass production was difficult.
But with Nicolas's alchemical knowledge, Phineas could easily create better ones himself.
In the days that followed, the matches were entertaining if not intense. Harry claimed to have learned a lot from them.
Phineas also used the event to make a fair bit of Galleons.
As with any major sporting event, betting abounded. The organizer was none other than Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
Phineas, being considerate, placed only small bets in each round, ensuring that Bagman didn't go bankrupt—a fate he narrowly avoided.
The stadium itself was colossal. From the private boxes, the golden curve of the arena shimmered in the light. Though one couldn't see the full layout from a single vantage point, it was clear that the space could have held ten cathedrals.
Over five hundred Ministry employees had spent the past year preparing the grounds, enchanting every square inch with Muggle-Repelling Charms.
The final structure could seat 100,000 wizards in tiered rows around the oval pitch. At the top were the luxury boxes, and the Black family's private box stood above them all, offering a commanding view.
Advertisement banners lined the arena walls: for broomsticks, magical stain removers, wizarding fashion, and even shops in London and Hogsmeade.
On August 22nd, after more than two months of tournament play, the final match arrived.
The Weasley family had arrived the day before. Though full-access tickets were outrageously expensive—sold at sky-high prices by the Black family—Arthur and Molly had only purchased tickets for the finals. Fortunately, they secured front-row seats in the top tier, offering an excellent view.
Fudge shared their box.
"I heard Percy Weasley has started working at the Ministry?" Phineas asked Sirius.
Sirius nodded. "In the Foreign Office. I don't particularly like him."
Phineas agreed. "He tries too hard to impress Ministry officials. It's frankly embarrassing for the Weasley family."
It made sense in the original timeline—Percy was ambitious and distant from his family—but now that the Weasleys were aligned with the Black family, Percy's decision to serve the Ministry instead of the Blacks seemed questionable.
Still, Phineas said, "Keep in touch with him. If he's willing to align with the family, we can help him rise. If he loves the Ministry so much, perhaps we'll make him Minister."
Sirius looked to Hope. "What about you? Any plans after graduation? Want to work with the family?"
Hope shook her head. "No. I'm going to open an alchemical magic shop in Hogsmeade."
Phineas smiled. "Perfect. We've got a vacant shop in Hogsmeade—Lisa's old place. It's yours now."
As they chatted, Fudge's magically amplified voice echoed across the stadium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"
Cheers erupted. Flags waved frantically, and a cacophony of national anthems rang out.
The largest advertisement display disappeared, replaced by:
Bulgaria: 0 – Ireland: 0
"Now, allow me to introduce… the mascots of the Bulgarian National Team!"
A hundred Veela glided gracefully onto the field. Their moonlit skin shimmered, their hair fluttered unnaturally. As they began to dance, some spectators looked entranced, dazed by their beauty. Had Phineas and his group not seen them before, they too might have fallen under the spell.
Thanks to the caution of past events—people had once leapt from stands in a frenzy—security had improved. No one jumped this time.
When the music ended, angry groans echoed throughout the stadium.
"And now, raise your wands for the Irish National Team's mascot!"
A brilliant green and gold object streaked through the sky, split into twin comets, soared through the goalposts, and burst into magical fireworks.
As the sparks faded, a rain of golden coins fell. Leah caught one.
"Don't get too excited," Phineas said. "They'll vanish after a while."
Moments later, Irish leprechauns appeared in the sky, flying in formation with red vests and small lanterns, casting dazzling illusions.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!"
Fudge's voice boomed.
"Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zoglav! Levsky! Volkanov! Volkov! And… Krum!"
Viktor Krum's arrival brought the stadium to a roar. Lean and sharp-faced, with hooked nose and small, intense eyes, Krum soared in like a hunting eagle.
"And now, the Irish National Quidditch Team!"
The crowd thundered again as the final match began.