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SD: CH107 - The World Cup Part 1
🕑 Added 2024-03-16 04:52:19 +0000 UTCI left Penelope’s room in the early hours of the morning.
One of the perks of being a powerful wizard was the ability to function with little periods of sleep. Good for me, for by the time it was nine, the entire Weasley household was a chattering engine with everyone prodding everyone else to get ready. Much like the books, Mr. Weasley, who looked eerily similar to his movie counterpart, had gotten a portkey scheduled for eleven in the morning to depart to the Quidditch Cup site, and if things followed Canon, it would be a dusty shoe on the top of the hillock near Ottery St. Catchpole. As cool as a brief moment of skydiving would be, I wasn’t looking forward to travelling by the Weasley’s portkey. I had paid a little extra to get our own portkey — a leather belt — commissioned to guarantee a pleasant travel experience, so naturally, we went for that.
Logic is the art of going wrong with confidence.
Let’s just say that the entrance was less than graceful. It helped that the others didn’t fare any better. I shook off the cobwebs and found the red hair of Molly Weasley greeting my sight. She was still recovering from the precarious travel, and had been giving me strange looks since last evening.
I really ought to get to the bottom of that.
Before she could say anything, we were greeted by a rather boisterous voice. “Ah, Molly, the tents are in that direction. Ah, good Lord, is that Harry Potter?”
It was a tall man, with a ruddy, flattened face with a scrubby brown beard. Bespectacled, he trudged towards us in solid, heavy footsteps, a pompous look on his features. At first I had mistaken him for some Ministry pureblood, but then I noticed his son and suppressed the urge to grin.
“Yes…. sir,” I told him, pulling off the best meek version of myself. “I’m sorry you’re…”
“Amos Diggory,” said the man, giving me a smile that was half-proud, half-condescending. “I’m the Head of the Department of Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures at the Ministry. Surely you know my boy Cedric?”
“Hey Harry,” wished Cedric. “Had a good summer?”
I smiled. It was almost genuine. “Sort of.”
“Looking forward to another school year, Harry?” asked Amos loudly. “I was most surprised when I found out that Harry Potter had flown against my boy last year. Cedric says you’ve got talent. I asked my boy to give you a few pointers this year, you know.”
Cedric winced at his father’s bluntness. “Dad, I told you. The only reason I won that match was because of the dementors. I just got lucky, that’s all.”
“Codswallop,” claimed Amos. “Do not downplay yourself, son. Luck doesn’t get you into the Spring Leagues.” He totally ignored the looks he was getting and regarded me. “Oh yes, I totally forgot. Cedric was approached by a Puddlemere Scout in the summer. I tell you, boy, professionals are professionals for a reason. Puddlemere trains in style — swimming pools, cafeteria, weight rooms, racquetball courts, they have everything that the best deserve.”
“Dad,” said Cedric, a little sternly. “I’m just a potential recruit. They’ve got Bletchley and Winders in reserve and —”
“You’re better than them,” Amos went on. “It’s just a matter of time before everyone notices your talent, son. And after this year, they will. Already they know that you defeated Harry Potter in a Quidditch match.”
Yeah, that’s it. I decided I had officially had enough.
“Yes, they probably will,” I shot back. “Pretty sure we can get all the press we want here at the World Cup.”
I followed with a rude hand gesture. Yeah, you could just call me an expert on national diplomacy and goodwill. Meeting Amos Diggory’s eyes, I tore into him. “They’d just love to know how the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was unfairly interrupted by a swarm of dementors that weren’t even supposed to be entering Hogwarts. Hang on a second, aren’t you the Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? Sounds a little fishy when those twisted creatures attacked me in the middle of my match with your son.”
It was probably the first time in history that anyone had laid into Amos Diggory like that. Even Cedric looked shocked. I can really kill a conversation, you know.
“Harry,” Molly tried to intervene, as did Hermione. I noticed how the man flinched at Hermione approaching us. No doubt news of her affliction had already spread far and wide. It made me wonder if Hermione would even be allowed to attend Hogwarts or if I’d have to arrange for something private for her.
“Wha— what? That’s preposterous!” Amos bellowed. “How can you even imagine that —”
“That you’re banking on your promotion by cashing on your son’s glory?” I snapped. “Or perhaps you’re banking on him becoming a Champion in the upcoming tournament that everyone is so hush hush about?”
Amos went pale and began stammering. Luckily for him, Molly stepped in and excused Amos away, inquiring about his ailing wife. She gave me a sideward glance as she took the flabbergasted man away, and I nodded in acknowledgement.
People say I have a temper. Those people are correct. I briefly toyed with the idea of letting things follow Canon and let Peter Pettigrew ‘kill the spare’ just to spite the man. Then I decided that it would be much better to absolutely destroy Cedric Diggory in the tournament. And if, even by any stroke of misfortune, the events of that silliness that was Cursed Child was part of Canon, then losing in the Triwizard would somehow twist Cedric into becoming a Death Eater.
Made as much sense as anything else in this twisted world.
“Don’t mind Dad, Harry,” said Cedric, stepping in, looking slightly miserably embarrassed and a little shocked. “You really tore him a new one. I am not sure if I should be annoyed at you for speaking like that to my Dad, or be thankful for shutting him up. He has been unbearable since the start of summer.”
Damn it. Even in this world, it seemed some things never change. Draco was a loser. Susan had big boobs. Cedric Diggory was a goddamn goody-two-shoes.
“Sorry,” I said with a lazy jerk of my head. “I guess he just hit a nerve.”
Cedric laughed uneasily. “It’s alright. Maybe now I’ll get a month off from him writing to me constantly about Puddlemere and my grand destiny. Dad is… overenthusiastic.”
“Yeah,” I told him dryly. “I can see that.”
“He’s just a little excited at meeting the players and the staff.” Cedric laughed. “I’ll admit I had to resist asking them for their autographs.”
“What was it like?”
“They took me to the pitch and I got to see a session of practice drills. Didn’t see much of the keeper, because I was more interested in chasers and seeker drills. That reminds me, I need to get a pair of Omnioculars. Excited for the World Cup?”
“Very,” I told him. I was being serious too, though for very different reasons. “I am betting on Krum.”
“I can’t wait to watch him in action,” said Cedric. “He’s a brilliant seeker. Speaking of that, you look different, Harry. I’d almost believe you took an ageing potion.”
“Probably because I did,” I deadpanned.
Cedric laughed uneasily, unsure how to process that. “Well then, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, yeah?”
We were quickly joined by Ron and the rest, and forced into an ongoing debate over Ireland and Bulgaria. Unlike the real Harry Potter, I wasn’t that interested in Quidditch, but given my luck, or should I say, Meta-Luck, Harry’s natural skill might have passed on to me. Between that and my instincts, I had heightened reflexes that could prove very interesting in the field. Besides, if things stayed the same and I was one of the Champions in the Triwizard tournament, I needed all the arrows I could have in my arsenal.
“Bulgaria will win,” claimed Ron. “Krum will get the snitch long before the Irish can score that many points.”
“We disagree, Ronniekins,” claimed Fred, or George. I couldn’t be sure. “Far be it for us to dispute the talent of the mighty Krum —”
“ — but our money is on the Irish.”
“Oh come on,” yelled Ron. “You think that Lynch will — Mark my words, Krum will get the snitch long before the Irish can score that many points.”
“Shut it, will you?” Ginny hissed.
Hermione and Penelope just looked plain amused.
“Who are you betting with? “ I asked.
“Bagman,” said Fred, or George. “We invested our entire savings in this bet.”
“Sounds legit,” I deadpanned.
The other twin laughed. “He gave us incredible odds.”
I smirked. Ludo Bagman in canon had misled the Weasley twins, paying them off in Leprechaun gold. And if Krum failed to catch the snitch, it would simply mean that this world is either too different or my presence had tweaked things way too much off the line. In that case, my knowledge of canon events would become effectively meaningless.
But if Ireland won, and Krum caught the snitch….
“Say, uh, George, I was wondering if I could bet with this Bagman through you?”
“Anytime, Harry,” said the twin, “ Who will you bet on?”
“I was thinking… Ireland wins…” I trailed off, noting the look on Ron’s face. “But Krum catches the snitch. What are the odds?”
“Six to one,” said Fred. “How much are you thinking?”
Say… a thousand galleons?”
Ron began coughing. “A thousand —”
“Harry!” Hermione chided. “You can’t just throw away that much gold in a reckless bet. What if Krum fails to….” She trailed off, her eyes widening as it hit her. Then, a small smile formed on her face. “Still, a thousand galleons. Isn’t it… I don’t know, a bit too much? What if… you know?”
I gave her a knowing smile. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” I turned to the twins. “What do you say? Think Bagman is up to it?”
The twins looked at each other. “Erm, we’ll have to ask, really. A thousand galleons is.. I don’t know, a freaking lot?”
I shrugged, and summoned a Gringotts cheque book from my pouch. Signing it, I handed it over to George. “Just one thing, guys. Tell him to pay back in a Gringotts draft, alright? Wouldn’t want to be misled with leprechaun gold now, do we?”
Both twins looked at me, eyes widened and nodded subtly.
“Com’n Harry,” said Ron. “Mum’s already got started on making breakfast.”
“But didn’t you have breakfast already?” asked Hermione quizzically.
“Don’t look at me,” I said, raising both hands. “You know I don’t eat anything in the morning except for fruit.”
Hermione’s gaze shifted to Penelope, who looked a little pale. “Uh, I thought Mrs. Weasley made a small brunch earlier. I woke up late so I skipped breakfast anyway.”
“Yeah, Dad actually wanted to come here last night, and beat the crowds otherwise we’d have to set out at some horrendously early hour for a portkey. It worked out fine until last night when he said that the portkey would start this morning. And Ginny said she was busy and wouldn’t help Mum with cooking just because she was a girl.”
Hermione frowned at him. “She’s right, Ron. She shouldn’t have to cook just because she’s female! My parents share cooking duties. I’d hope anyone I ended up with didn't expect me to be barefoot and pregnant, chained to the kitchen sink.”
I snorted, imagining the image.
Ron frowned. “My mum stayed at home and brought us all up. There’s nothing wrong about it.”
“No, there’s nothing about it,” said Hermione with a sniff. “It’s a perfectly valid choice. It's just not my choice!”
“Are you insulting my mother because….” Ron said heatedly, his infamous temper reigniting again.
“No, no,” said Hermione hurriedly. “I’m not insulting anyone, let alone Mrs. Weasley.”
“It sounded like you were,” Ron accused. “And you can’t marry another witch or wizard, you’re a werewolf!”
And that, I realised, surmised everything wrong about Ron Weasley. But the damage was already done. Hermione’s eyes turned to slits, and a hint of silver appeared in them. “Yes, thank you for pointing that out, Ron. I know perfectly well what I am, and how your wizarding society treats someone like me. A muggleborn werewolf.”
Harry’s memory told me that Ron was short-tempered because he was hungry. If Hermione kept being irritated by everything he said, we would be here for days, and I couldn’t have that.
“Ron,” I said slowly. “You should apologise. And Hermione wasn’t insulting Mrs. Weasley by any means. Frankly, I can’t even imagine Hermione tied to the kitchen sink. She’s too stubborn and independent for that.”
I grabbed Hermione by her shoulder and pulled her against my chest, and she accepted the gesture gratefully.
“And besides,” I whispered, knowing her werewolf senses would catch it. “I don’t want to tie you to the sink, baby. I’ve got a collar for you to tie to the bed.”
Hermione blushed into my neck.
“Anyway, we should be going,” I said, bidding them farewell, as we moved towards the south.
“Err, Harry,” said Ron. “Our tent’s that way.”
“Sorry Ron,” I told him. “I’ll join you, but I got a tent for House Potter for Penelope, Hestia and Hermione. Me and Hermione…” I paused and reconsidered that. “I mean, I will join you shortly after we meet Hestia, yeah?”
“But you don’t even know this place,” Ron argued.
“Oh shut it,” said Ginny, stepping in. “I’ll go with them, happy? After they’re done meeting Jones, I’ll drag him and Hermione back with me. Happy? Now go.”
Ron gave me an odd look and joined the twins. My ‘best mate’ might have the emotional range of a teaspoon, but he sure did sense the growing disparity between us ever since Hermione was afflicted with lycanthropy at the end of the term. I didn’t know if he actively resented the fact that his parents asked him to drop all potential ideas about Hermione, or if he was naturally biassed or afraid or simply confused to know how to deal with it. Knowing him, it was a combination of all three.
But enough about him. I had far more interests in meeting other people and raising my stats. Especially now that I was so close to fulfilling my goal and unlocking Lecherous Shrine. After Emmeline, Anastasia and now Penelope, I was almost at the doorstep. Just another new girl or woman to fuck, another world anchor that pushed beyond forty and the powers and secrets of Lecherous Shrine would be mine to keep. Unfortunately, I had a lot hanging upon the Quidditch World Cup, and a sudden, unknown transformation had as much chances of fucking things up, as much as giving me new and far more terrifying powers.
“Right,” I said, regarding Ginny. “That’s obviously not going to happen. You can go with Hermione and Penelope to the Potter tent, and meet Hestia there. I’ve got some errands to run.”
“Where are you going?” asked Hermione.
“Oh you know, people to meet, places to visit, things to do. You three have a good time, yeah? I’ll join you when the finals begin.”
“But—” began Ginny.
“Uh, Weasley,” braved Penelope. “He clearly has things to do. Why not just trust in him and get to the Potter tent like he’s asked?”
Ginny gave her a dirty look but said nothing. I smirked and left the three girls, walking towards the third gate, where I knew the Auror Base Camp was stationed. If things really played according to Canon, then this event would change everything. But before that began, I had a few people to meet, starting with a certain bombshell of a DMLE Director and her equally busty niece.
“Tempus Fugit,” I told myself, and began to walk towards the third gate.
Amelia had already sent me a map highlighting the important locations of the Quidditch World Cup Scene, the location of the tents, the housing units where the Bulgarian veela were to stay, complete with wards to keep others from being ensnared against their will. My disillusionment charm was no way near perfect, but amidst so many people, it was near impossible to notice the sudden flickers in air, so long as the silencing charm on my boots were working.
I noted the way the tents were actually set up, and much to my surprise, the MALFOY tent actually had real peacocks strutting outside, proving yet again that the family suffered from a superiority complex so large that entire skyscrapers could fit inside it. Narcissa had intimated that she would be meeting me sometime before the festivities began, but somehow, I doubt she meant me slipping into her tent where her husband and son might be present. The Greengrasses were also there, Broderick, Anastasia, Daphne and finally, the youngest Astoria who was talking to her friend, a lilac-haired girl that I couldn’t recognize. The WEEZLY tent was located far away, and the POTTER tent was located right next to the Notts, another annoying family of Death Eaters that needed to be summarily put down.
It was already an hour or so by the time I reached the Third Gate. The sun was reaching its zenith in the cloudless sky, and I noticed the bubbly, pink-haired woman standing to the side, bent over what was clearly a map of the entire arena.
I lurked over her and peeked over her shoulder at the map. Wooden figurines denoting the Aurors were placed at key points, perfectly matching up to the map Amelia had given me. Majority of the Auror squads would be patrolling the grounds, while Senior Aurors were reserved for crowd control. The new recruits would be helping the security staff that had come with the dignitaries to maintain decorum. According to this setup, the Auror before him should’ve been…
“I thought you would be joining Hestia on the top box,” he whispered. “Should I be the one to tell her that you ditched her, or will you?”
The metamorphmagus was so engaged with her assessment that she didn’t even glance back before replying with a cheerful grin. “Yeah, that won’t be necessary. I’m just checking things out before I meet her and Potter….”
She trailed off, probably registering his voice, and spun around, her feet slipping on the ground and just as she was about to crash on the table, I slipped a hand around her waist and righted her into the previous position. “And here I thought you weren’t clumsy.”
Her pink hair shifted to an unruly purple. “Potter! What are you doing here?”
“Helping beautiful witches from slipping, clearly,” I said, giving her a winning smile. “I think Hestia is looking for you in the Top Box.”
She wasn’t. She wouldn’t be at the Top Box until it was time. I had tasked her with a few errands until that happened. Errands that she could take care of while being with Tonks and maintaining her alibi intact.
Tonks regarded me discerningly with her eyes. From the very beginning of the summer, the two of us had been taking note of each other, and both of us knew what the other wanted to a degree. I wanted her submission, and she wanted to be chased. She saw me first as a precarious school-kid, only for her illusions to be shattered by my actions over the summer and Hestia’s complete submission to me. She was sexually attracted to me, that much was undeniable, even ignoring my ability as an Incubus. With my current form and my allure, that she was still capable of maintaining her poise spoke volumes about her skill in Occlumency.
“I told Hestia I’ll join her before the finals begin,” said Tonks. “And shouldn’t you be with the Weasleys?”
“Keeping track of me, are you?”
“Somebody needs to,” said Tonks, matching my gaze with hers. “Or else you’ll be up to no good.”
“That makes sense,” I said, nodding with a matter-of-factly tone. “I imagine you set us up for a date to keep a better eye on me then.”
My dismissive tone only incensed her further. It had always been an internal strife for her that someone who was younger, much younger than her enjoyed her best friend’s complete obedience, and that Hestia had ended up regularly on Harry’s bed when Tonks wanted me to chase her all the way until I won her heart.
It didn’t help that my arrogance was only outmatched by intelligence, and an ability to weave through the current political system and establish strong allies everywhere. That I, a third-year-passout, had the ear of her boss and the DMLE Director, Iron-Lady Amelia Bones and was on a first-name basis with her after just a single weekend of staying at her home didn’t help her case either.
“You mean the date that you indefinitely postponed?” she asked, giving me a spiteful glare.
“A date?” asked the half-amused, half-condescending voice of Amelia Bones, as she walked in with Susan in tow, looking at the two of us with a single raised eyebrow. “Cadet Auror Tonks, by any chance are you dating Mr. Potter?”
“Uh, no, I mean —” Tonks began helplessly.
“She was talking about that date I had at the DMLE, Madam Bones,” I said, without the slightest tremor in my tone. “I believe Auror Tonks is a little disappointed over my decision to drop my case against Draco Malfoy. But like I told you, Auror Tonks,” I said curtly, looking at Tonks. “I have suffered enough at the hands of my muggle relatives. I know better than to waste Draco’s entire life for that one mistake where I might or might not have egged him to react.”
“Yes, yes, we both know all about your humanitarian side, Harry Potter,” said Amelia, giving me a sharp look. “As well as your ability to keep your word.”
“Uh, DMLE Director —”
“Nothing,” rang her sharp tone. “You have some gall to show up at the Quidditch World Cup after claiming all that during our meeting. I strictly mentioned that you were to report at the Bones Mansion within the week.”
“Alas,” I said in Dumbledoresque fashion. “Work gained priority. Running Sleekeazy isn’t exactly easy.”
The DMLE Director’s lips twisted. “So I’ve heard. Now, as amusing as this banter is, some of us have work to do.”
“Naturally,” I said, taking a step to the right, away from all three of them. “Far be it for me to disrupt Auror duties, Director. I’ll just be on my way and —”
“And where are you going, Harry Potter?”
My expression morphed into a frown. “My tent, Director. The finale —”
She gave me a vexed look. “Stop playing naive, Harry Potter. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Susan,” she regarded her niece. “Please take our wayward Mr. Potter to the Bones tent. I’ll join you shortly.”
I opened my mouth to argue. I knew that I would be meeting Amelia and Susan without a doubt at the Quidditch World Cup, and I was planning on using her aid to secure certain things before the real festivities began. But I didn’t think she was frisky and sex-starved to the degree to want to fuck me in the Bones tent right away. Then again… she probably was pissed at not getting my cock for a week after those three days at her mansion.
“Follow me, Potter,” said Susan in a no-nonsense tone, imitating her aunt. She spun around and began walking.
I didn’t know what the two had planned, or if Amelia was truly brazen enough to start making out with me in the middle of all this. There was also the entire issue of meeting the Greengrasses, and looking out for Narcissa’s signal.
“Well?” asked Amelia, looking at me with one raised eyebrow.
I sighed, and with a look at Tonks, I shrugged and went off after the busty red-haired princess.
Comments
NightFury
This was an amazing chapter! I really look forward to this.
Alkole
I still wanna know what percy chose
Alkole
Thanks for the chapter can't wait till lucius is offed and we see what the lecherous shrine is
Robert Hernandez
Lucuis us dying soon can't wait to see it happen most likely harry sees it happening during when barty crouch Jr attacks the world cup can't wait also missed this story
Critical_Hit
Nice to have you back. Hope everything is fine 🙏
