From an outsider's perspective, Lucius Malfoy and Barty Crouch should have had nothing in common.
After all, one was a wizard who, upon sensing trouble, had pulled himself out of the mire but could never fully rid himself of his Death Eater past—a figure most wizards regarded as "evil." The other, though unsuccessful in his bid for Minister of Magic, held the highly respectable post of Minister for International Magical Cooperation.
More importantly, everyone knew that Barty Crouch's prestige came from his open defiance of Voldemort. By all logic, he should not have been the one to take the initiative and approach Lucius Malfoy, a former Death Eater. This much could be seen from the expressions of disbelief and faint alarm on the faces of his subordinates behind him.
Especially Percy Weasley—his wary gaze toward Lucius Malfoy almost suggested that he suspected Draco's father of secretly using the Imperius Curse.
Yet Barty Crouch, seemingly unaware of his subordinates' silent warnings, suddenly turned his eyes toward Draco, his expression difficult to read.
"This must be your son? I've heard of young Malfoy's excellent performance at Hogwarts."
"He's nowhere near that level."
"Ha! If there's a chance, he should talk more with Percy here. He's a fine young man himself."
Astoria glanced sideways as though she had just heard a joke. Percy Weasley, standing beside his superior, had gone bright red with excitement at the praise. Whether it was mere politeness or not, Astoria couldn't help but think that someone so transparent with his emotions could hardly be compared to Draco.
After all, from start to finish, Draco—standing calmly beside her—hardly seemed like an ordinary student wizard at all.
While Astoria was quietly judging the other boy, Barty Crouch appeared ready to leave. Although the Quidditch World Cup was mainly under the supervision of the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Crouch, as Minister for International Magical Cooperation, had his own heavy share of duties hosting foreign guests.
Given that this was an event attended by major figures from across the wizarding world, it was no surprise that after agreeing on a time with Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch soon departed with his subordinates.
As Percy Weasley strutted past with an air of self-importance, Astoria frowned, unable to understand where his arrogance came from.
In truth, Percy, who had secured a position at the Ministry of Magic right after graduation, was considered quite capable compared to many of his peers—certainly not mediocre. Yet to Astoria, his light still seemed dim.
The reason lay, of course, with Draco.
For those who had long lived beside the sun, even the brightest star would be forever outshone by its light.
Astoria herself had yet to realize this.
...
With over a hundred thousand wizards expected to attend the World Cup, the Ministry of Magic could hardly allow them all to flood into Britain on the day of the match.
Thus, special camps had been set up so that wizards could arrive several days in advance, entering the country in staggered groups. The tents dotting the campgrounds served as temporary lodging for them.
"This one is for Lucius and me, dear. You and Astoria will stay in these two."
"Mhm."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Get some rest early. And Draco, don't wander around at night."
Before he could make sense of the implication behind her words, Draco watched his parents disappear straight into their tent. As for his mother's knowing wink, he chose to ignore it entirely.
...
"Well, I suppose I should..."
"Come on, come on. On the way here, I saw a place selling all sorts of things. I was just thinking of grabbing some sweets."
The moment Lucius Malfoy and the others disappeared from sight, Astoria—who had been quiet just moments ago—suddenly came to life. Her eager, almost greedy expression made one wonder if they were imagining it.
Only Draco, who knew her well enough, wasn't surprised in the slightest.
"Let's go check it out then."
"Come on, I think it's that way."
As the two set off, they passed many familiar faces. Perhaps because of their social standing, everyone around them seemed to be either from families of Slytherin students or wizarding nobles from all over the world.
It wasn't until they reached the area designated for market stalls that Draco and Astoria finally spotted students from other houses.
"It's so lively!"
"It's pretty crowded. Hold my hand—don't get lost."
"Huh... oh."
Unaware of Astoria's slightly trembling voice, Draco focused his attention on the vendors ahead.
Compared to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade Village, the scene before them was far livelier and more chaotic. Every few steps, vendors appeared seemingly out of thin air, carrying trays or pushing carts filled with all kinds of curious goods—many of which couldn't even be found in Britain.
No wonder the place was so crowded; these were specialty items brought in from all around the world. Seeing this, Astoria quickly forgot that Draco was still holding her hand.
"What's this?"
"Looks like some kind of regional delicacy?"
"Exactly. Try some, Draco."
"So sweet!"
Astoria was far more interested in the food from different countries than in any Quidditch merchandise. Her shiny, butter-slicked lips and puffed cheeks made Draco, who was holding her food for her, twitch slightly at the corner of his mouth.
If he hadn't been genuinely curious about these unfamiliar dishes himself, he would never have followed Astoria around as she darted from stall to stall like a little glutton.
Perhaps because there were simply too many people, Draco still hadn't spotted any familiar wizards, which only made Astoria grow bolder and more carefree.
Finally, once she couldn't take another bite, Astoria stopped walking and straightened her posture, returning to her usual ladylike composure.
Of course, if she'd only wiped her mouth clean, she'd have looked the part perfectly...