Chapter 35

Unfit should certainly be something on Bella’s resume, they hadn’t even climbed up the stadium halfway when the woman very nearly collapsed and rolled back down the stairs. Atlas had actually had to carry her up the rest because Ludo was too busy monologuing the making of the stadium, apparently it had taken them the entire year previous to get it secure enough. Which, in fact, Atlas would have found interesting if she wasn’t being constantly stared at by random passers-by. 

Honestly, Atlas had half the mind to walk into the Minister’s box with Bella on her back, just to embarrass her but refrained. Humiliating her in front of the Minister would probably go down in a flourish of insults and hexes. Bella was a squib, yes, but she would find a way.

So, just as the Top Box came into view, Atlas set Bella down and tapped her lightly on the cheek, waking her up from her mini coma. She looked around wildly, smacking Atlas in the face with her braids which actually hurt considering she wore metal bands to keep them in place. It was deadly.

“She awake now?” Ludo asked, still as merrily as before. He certainly loved Quidditch.

“Yeah,” Atlas confirmed and stood up, hauling Bella to her feet. “You alright?”

“Fine thanks, you’d think after so many years of magical advancement they’d install things like those Muggle escalators in places like these,” Bella muttered, shaking her head about.

“Oh! That’s a bloody great idea! I’ll keep that in mind for the next cup!” Ludo boomed, laughing as he approached the door to the Top Box. The two Auror’s guarding it nodded to the man with smile’s on their faces and turned to Bella and Atlas, “Stand down,” Ludo chuckled, “That one with the scars, she’s Amaya Magianima’s daughter and that small one, Dragon keeper, a squib too.”

“It’s an honour,” The woman grinned and Atlas smiled, rubbing at the back of her neck while Bella smirked pridefully and smacked Atlas’s shoulder.

“I’m a big fan of your mother’s work, young miss,” The man bowed and then looked to Bella. “Wanted to be a Dragon keeper when I was younger, always loved them, ever since I was a boy. How’d you do it?”

“Oh, I just have an affinity to animals, how’d you become an Auror?” Bella asked. Atlas often marvelled at her ability at creating idle chatter between herself and strangers.

“I guess I just have an affinity to magic,” He smiled, tipping his hat with a wink. Bella laughed good-naturedly and brushed her hand against the man’s shoulder, eliciting a gag from Atlas behind her. Bella not only had an affinity to animals she also had a tendency to flirt shamelessly, not like Atlas could talk. “Maybe I could show you sometime?”

“Maybe indeed…” Bella smirked, flicking his hat and turning to Ludo who was stood gawking at the scene, he soon broke out into a boisterous laugh and charged into the Top Box, Bella going after him. This left Atlas outside on her own with the Aurors, shaking her head exasperatedly.

“What a woman…” The male Auror breathed, readjusting his hat, his female colleague laughed heartily and grinned to Atlas who only smiled and waved them goodbye, walking past them.

“Everyone ready?” Ludo shouted as soon as Atlas walked inside, he slung his arm around her as he said this and she stumbled slightly under the weight. “Minister – ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, Ludo,” Fudge replied agreeably.

Ludo whipped out his wand and pulled Atlas with him as he approached the balcony, the girl having no choice but to walk with him as his arm was holding her firmly in place. Not in an uncomfortable or vicious way, he just seemed so genuinely excited for the girl to be there. 

She just sighed with a small smile and accepted her fate. Her mother hadn’t mentioned much about Ludo in her journals and when she did it was only meaningless things, writing about how they’d met and spoke about Quidditch, touching on the man’s gambling habits – the reason Atlas hadn’t wanted to gamble with him – and alluding to a few favours here or there. Favours for what, she didn’t know.

“Sonorus!” He boomed as his voice carried through the stadium, echoing to every crevice, every corner of the stands and subsequently into Atlas’s ear. She winced, a grimace falling upon her face. “Ladies, gentlemen, inbetweeners and not at all-ers..welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

Everyone screamed and clapped, the sound blasting through Atlas’s eardrums, she’d never seen so many people let alone heard. Thousands of banners, DIY decorations and other bits waved around in the air, a horrible off-tune singing adding to the racket that was the celebrations of all folks of different species and origin. The huge blackboard directly across from the Top Box cleared and donned the words BULGARIA: 0 — IRELAND: 0.

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

The solid block of scarlet roared in approval and even Atlas leaned in to see what they had brought, Ludo still with his hand clasped around her shoulder.

With an amused look, Atlas watched as at least a hundred Veela glided out onto the field, dancing captivatingly, grasping the attention of all those seated and standing, even some women had their attentions taken by the sight. Beauty sure was a powerful thing, their stunning was surely unmatched by any other, at least, that was the sure comment any would say when asked.

The music stopped and so did the Veelas’ dance. The crowd went in an uproar and though Atlas agreed their dancing sure was captivating she didn’t cry out in outrage but instead tutted under her breath. It was just getting good. She leant back and bumped slightly into Ludo who was still grinning broadly, he didn’t at all look affected by the display, instead, he still looked eager for the Quidditch to begin.

“And now!” Ludo roared, his round face now red, “kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

In an instant, a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the arena, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light and faded. The balls of colour reunited and merged, forming a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. 

Gold rained from the sky and bounced across the stands, some falling to Atlas’s feet. She bent down and picked one up, thumbing it in interest. Leprechauns gold, unlucky to those in the stands who so eagerly went in hunt of it considering it was basically worthless. She flicked it into the air and went to catch it, only Ludo’s great big hand clasped over it instead, a cheery grin on his face when Atlas turned to him with a cocked brow.

“Doubt you need fake gold.”

“I don’t,” Atlas nodded, turning back to watch the event finish its unfolding. She did, however, notice Ludo pocket a handful of the alleged fake gold.

Shifting her eyes to their unnatural golden colour, Atlas peered up at the shamrock, finding it comprised of Leprechauns, each carrying a lamp of gold or green. She smiled and leant on her palm, her eyes reflecting the gorgeous lights above until they eventually dispersed, the great shamrock doing the same as the Leprechauns drifted down to join the Veela in watching the match.

“And now, would everyone kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!”

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. Atlas could recognise a Firebolt from anywhere, even if she hadn’t even seen the broom itself, by its speed and flexibility, she just knew.

“Ivanova!”

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

“Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!” 

That caught Atlas’s attention, she straightened and singled out the eighteen-year-old Seeker, dragging her gaze across his visage and form. Krum was grumpy-looking, thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick eyebrows but that wasn’t what Atlas was looking for. Instead, she focused on the way he moved, sharp and purposeful, his mannerisms displaying a sureness to them and his gestures communicating something only fellow avid Quidditch players would notice. He really was quite impressive.

“And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!” Ludo yelled, startling Atlas out of her analysis. “Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!”

Seven blurs of green swept onto the field and Atlas noticed, they too, had Firebolts, all coloured in green contrasting to Bulgarians red customed ones.

“And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!” A small and skinny wizard walked out onto the field, carrying a large crate, his broom and a whistle between his lips. The crate no doubt carried the essential playing pieces of the game and Atlas’s theory was soon confirmed when the man kicked it op and four balls burst into the air.

The scarlet Quaffle – Atlas kept her eye on that – the two black Blugers and the tiny little Golden Snitch Atlas knew somewhere Harry would be continuously looking for. She smiled at the thought of her god-brother and only just noticed Mostafa shooting into the air after the balls.

“They’re OFF!” Ludo screamed. “And it’s Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!”

It was captivating, more so than the Veela could ever be in Atlas’s eye. The speed, the power, the communication, it was leagues ahead of anything any of the Quidditch teams at Hogwarts could ever pull off. Ludo only had enough time to relay each pass as they were made, reciting the names of each player in rapt attention.

“Hawkshead Attacking Formation…” She muttered as Troy flew slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran who flanked his sides and bore down on the Bulgarians. Ludo momentarily glanced at her when she did, before going back to his commentating. “Nice Porskoff Ploy…” she mumbled again as Troy climbed high in the air, drawing Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova with him only to drop the Quaffle down to Moran. “Unlucky Moran…” she continued as Volkov – one of the Bulgarian Beaters – smashed a Bludger in his direction. “Look at that catch from Levski…and he scored!”

“Ten zero to Ireland!” Ludo roared over the cheers and applause from the stadium. Atlas grinned, it was all so exhilarating. In fact, she was so dazed she mumbled through the entire thing, passionately commenting on each move, each foul and even each injury that came to pass. More than once – when a foul or time-out was called – Ludo would express his enjoyment of her commentating, suggesting she took over for him jokingly. Each time she simply waved him off with a grin and continued leaning over the railing her throat starting to become quite hoarse.

Ireland was now leading by one hundred and seventy points to ten. The Irish Chasers’ were really a force to be reckoned with and Atlas had actually begun pitying the Bulgarians, even as they continued to foul, desperately trying to stop the Irish from scoring any more points. On many occasion, the Veela had tried distracting the referee to the point he’d ordered them off the field which led to now.

The Veela had transformed into long-beaked and feather-headed harpy-like creature, with wings of scales as they hurtled balls of fire at the Leprechauns who’d been taunting them for quite some time. It’d escalated to the point Ministry wizards had had to intervene, not before one of the Veela got a shot at the bristles of the referee’s broom, distracting him from calling a time-out for Krum who’d just had a Bludger pelted at his face.

A grimace pulled at Atlas’s face, she knew how that felt and immediately sympathised for the Seeker, subconsciously bringing her hand up to dust across the bridge of her nose. It was horrifying really, watching as Viktor Krum dived after the Irish Seeker Lynch, flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, leaving a trail as he flew.

And then, though it was quite gloriously gruesome, Lynch collided with the floor for the second time and Krum scooped up the Snitch. Krum with his red robes shining with blood from his nose rose gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 flashed across the scoreboard and Atlas sighed out in disbelief, shaking her head and clapping slowly. She really couldn’t wait to play her own games at Hogwarts.

“IRELAND WINS!” Ludo shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. He took Atlas by the shoulders and shook her around, the girl smiling back as she tried her best to steady herself, “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS – good lord, I don’t think any of us were expecting that! Were you expecting that, Miss Magianima!?”

“No…no I was not,” Atlas responded quietly, though Ludo had placed his wand against her neck and her words had echoed throughout the stadium. If possible, the shouts and cries of victory increased at the words and Atlas felt the rumbling of the crowds’ voices echoing through her very soul. The energy was surely unmatched to anything she’d ever felt.

“And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!” Ludo happily exclaimed, quite breathless as he absentmindedly clapped Atlas’s shoulder.

A blinding white light illuminated the Top Box so that everyone could see the inside. Atlas turned towards it and squinted toward the entrance, not before her eyes landed on her three best friends, Harry and Ron both had their attentions on the cup while Hermione was staring back at her, eyes lighting up in realisation.

“Oh…Hermione,” Atlas mouthed, her mouth morphing into a grin rivalling the dazzle of the Quidditch World Cup. Bella was sat smugly beside the girl, making kissy-faces behind her back toward Atlas who rolled her eyes.

“Let’s have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!” Ludo shouted and Atlas tore her gaze away from Hermione, gazing at the seven defeated looking, Bulgarian players with a clear impression. They may have not scored quite as many goals as the Irish but their teamwork was admirable and they deserved credit for that at least.

Then – after the Bulgarians had shaken hands with their own Minister and Fudge – the Irish came in. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly’s, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Ludo pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, “Quietus.” Turning to look down at Atlas who had just made eye-contact with Hermione again, the two of them just staring at each other, smiling, “They’ll be talking about this one for years,” he said hoarsely and Atlas snapped her gaze to him, clearing her throat awkwardly and shooting another furtive glance at Hermione, “a really unexpected twist, that…shame it couldn’t have lasted longer…don’t you agree, Atlas? You sure seemed passionate.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if it lasted a bit longer but I can only take the charm of a Veela head on so many times, plus, I think everyone could see the Irish were not letting up on their scoring,” Atlas grinned, running a hand through her hair. “The Bulgarians didn’t stand a chance in that department.”

“Ah yes! Yes, yes, I totally agree…ah you two…I owe you…how much?” Ludo asked, turning his attention to two identical gingers who’d just scrambled over the backs of their seats and joined Ludo and Atlas’s conversation, their hands outstretched eagerly.

“You boys made a bet with Bagman?” Atlas asked and they turned their gazes just slightly up to her, eyes going wide. They’d recognise those scars anywhere.

“Atlas!?” Fred shouted and engulfed her in a hug, George joining in as Ludo got to sorting out coins in the background. “I didn’t even recognise you from behind, did you, George?”

“No, I didn’t Fred. I wondered who was stood beside Bagman the entire game!” George grinned, ruffling her hair as they both pulled away.

“I grew like…a few inches, I don’t understand why everyone’s saying I look different,” Atlas sighed, fixing her hair.

“No, it’s not that,” Fred excused.

“We’ve just never seen you out of your uniform, baggy clothes or your Quidditch gear!” George finished and then picked at Atlas’s Henley sleeve. “This is none of those!”

“Sure, sure…” Atlas waved off, glancing over Fred’s shoulder to see Hermione still looking over at her, “I’ll be going then, you have fun with Bagman. Speaking of, Bye Ludo, thanks for the ticket.”

“Ta-ra Atlas!” He called back and immediately turned to the boys. Atlas jogged down the steps from the balcony and grinned over at Hermione, who’d seemingly knocked herself out of her daze as Atlas grew closer. Then, with speed Atlas thought could rival the throws the Irish were making with the Quaffle, Hermione collided with Atlas’s chest, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling her down to her height, which almost sent her buckling to her knees.

“Woah — hello Hermione,” Atlas said, reciprocating the hug with the same eagerness.

“I missed you.”

“It was only two months, sweetheart,” Atlas sighed but hugged a tad bit tighter. “But…same, I missed you too. I’ve been alone most of Summer and really couldn’t wait to see you all again.”

“You’ve been alone?” Hermione asked as she pulled away, her hands drifting down to Atlas’s wrists. She didn’t seem entirely all that willing to let go of the taller girl.

“Yeah, Minerva went on a top-secret mission,” Atlas winked with a grin, “So it’s just been me and Kalo. Occasionally Lyra.”

“Kalo? How has he been? And Lyra? Have the pups grown quite a bit?”

“Quite a bit? They look like adults now since you last saw them, your runt still hangs around me with Lyra, probably misses you and compensates with me,” Atlas huffed, shifting so she and Hermione were holding hands in a way it looked like they were about to start dancing. “Kalo’s fine, he adores you apparently because you feed him nice things.”

“I had my parents buy special owl feed, I’m pretty sure they love you by the way,” Hermione smiled.

“Oh?”

“I showed them that picture of you, you sent me. Told them all about you, they can’t wait to meet you,” She mused as Atlas swung their arms in sync.

“Can’t wait to meet me?” Atlas smiled, cocking her head in a way Hermione found adorable. “Are you taking me to meet them during Easter? Christmas? Cause I can and will join you on your trip home.”

“I was thinking more…Summer,” Hermione suggested and Atlas smirked.

“You’d spend a whole two months with me?”

“I already spend a good majority of the year with you, don’t I? What’s two more months?” Hermione shrugged and looked away, a smile on her face, “Anyway, that’s for future us to decide, we haven’t even started the new school year yet.”

“That’s true but I doubt I’ll be any less dead set on meeting your parents,” Atlas told.

“Well, that’s good then…”

“Sure is.”