The stadium could hold more than a hundred thousand wizards—an astounding number that spoke for itself about the sheer scale and grandeur of the place.
The fact that tickets were nearly impossible to get showed just how wildly popular Quidditch was in the wizarding world.
As with the matches at Hogwarts, wands were not allowed inside before the game began. The rule existed to prevent reckless wizards from interfering with players during the match and to make sure no overexcited fans attacked others mid-game.
When it came to fairness and safety, the long-standing Quidditch tradition was thorough and well-managed.
However, Draco and his companions were not exactly bound by those restrictions.
To be precise, their social standing placed them outside the usual limitations. Even their assigned seats were different from most wizards'...
"Our seats are... in the VIP section on the fourth tier."
"The fourth tier? That's the very top, isn't it? So these are the VIP tickets?"
Compared with the ordinary yellow or white tickets in other wizards' hands, Astoria noticed that theirs gleamed with a deep, elegant shade of purple and gold.
Not only that—on their way to the VIP section, they passed through a private passage with personal attendants and saw Aurors stationed at regular intervals, clearly there to prevent any kind of disturbance.
The level of security alone was enough to reveal what kind of people were permitted here.
It was certainly not a privilege ordinary wizards could ever hope to experience.
And for Draco to enjoy this treatment—well, that surely had something to do with his father, Lucius Malfoy...
...
When Draco reached the highest tier, a broad, open space came into view. Lining the walls stood Aurors in regulation uniforms, their presence immediately commanding attention.
As soon as they entered the open viewing box, Draco's steps slowed slightly, and Astoria instinctively moved to stand just behind him.
The Aurors' cold, vigilant gazes fell on them in perfect unison. It was unnerving. Anyone harboring ill intent would have found such scrutiny impossible to endure without giving themselves away.
It was clear that if Draco even so much as reached for his wand, these Aurors would act instantly—restraining him on the spot, or possibly stunning him before he could speak.
Of course, Draco had no intention of testing them.
Only when Narcissa, seated nearby, noticed their arrival and waved them over did the Aurors finally withdraw their piercing stares.
"Darling, bring Astoria here."
The room wasn't crowded, but as they drew closer, Draco quickly recognized several faces he'd often seen in the Daily Prophet.
"Draco, who are those people?" Astoria whispered, her voice tinged with surprise and curiosity.
"Those are Ministry officials," Draco replied quietly.
Indeed, seated nearby were the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—Barty Crouch, who nodded briefly in their direction.
And of course, the most prominent among them was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, whose name had appeared in the Prophet almost daily in recent months.
To see all these powerful figures gathered together was rare. They seemed to be in the middle of discussing something important, too preoccupied to notice Draco and Astoria's arrival.
It wasn't hard to imagine—if something were to happen to everyone in this room, the entire framework of Britain's magical government would collapse in an instant. No wonder Draco had seen so many Aurors on high alert along the way.
But in this space reserved for those of status and authority, Draco's eyes caught on a few figures who didn't quite belong.
Or rather, who didn't yet have the standing to belong.
There they were—the Weasleys, looking distinctly out of place.
And Harry Potter, watching him quietly from across the room...
...
If Percy Weasley's presence here could be explained by his superior, Barty Crouch, having taken a liking to him, then Arthur Weasley—an ordinary Ministry employee—and his family had no reason or qualification to be here at all.
Let alone Harry Potter, who wasn't even of age yet and had nothing but his fame to his name.
As for Hermione, who looked lost and unsure of how she'd ended up here, she seemed almost irrelevant under the circumstances...
"Darling, you're just in time. The match will be starting soon. How did you sleep last night, Astoria?"
"Pretty well."
Draco ignored his mother's small talk with Astoria and turned his head toward Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, both of whom were eyeing him with caution.
The sight reminded him of what Hermione had told him the previous night.
Then he noticed Hermione glance at him—and at Ginny—with a meaningful look. Draco blinked, understanding immediately.
So Ginny must have told Harry and the others everything about Hermione being in his tent last night.
That would explain why Hermione was now sitting beside Mrs. Weasley.
Just then, Cornelius Fudge approached, accompanied by the heads of several Ministry departments. He walked straight toward Harry Potter's seat.
Draco, standing some distance away, couldn't make out their conversation. But from Harry's slightly excited expression and the cordial smiles on the officials' faces, it was clear that their talk was going well.
Arthur Weasley, however, was left standing awkwardly to the side, entirely ignored by the Ministry's top brass.
And in that moment, Draco began to grasp why the Weasley family had been allowed into this exclusive VIP section.
All of this...
Could it really be because of Harry Potter?
But why...
...
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