Quidditch World Cup I

They had reached what appeared to be some sort of foggy moor. In front of them stood a pair of wizards wearing muggle clothes, who had dark circles under their eyes and grumpy looks.

"Good morning, Erick, John," greeted Mr. Diggory who knew the two wizards as he worked in the ministry as they did.

"Hello Louis...you'd better get out of there a large group will arrive," replied Erick in a weary tone.

"Let's see...Diggory.... Diggory..." said John as he consulted on a list he held in his hand.

"They're about 600 yards in that direction. The one in charge is named Luke," Erick said, pointing in a direction. Louis thanked and waved goodbye to the Potters, starting to walk through the fog, their figures disappeared.

"Potter..." said John as he looked up the last name on the list.

"400 meters that way. The camp supervisor name is Steve," he added, pointing in another direction.

"When are we meeting grandfather?" asked James as he walked across the deserted moor with his parents.

"You know he takes his sleeping hours very seriously...he'll probably be here in 1 hour," replied Fleamont, who knew his father liked to get his 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

After about 10 minutes of walking, they found a log cabin next to a fence. On the other side, James glimpsed the ghostly shapes of thousands of tents arranged on the side of a hill, in the middle of a vast field that stretched to the horizon, where the dark outline of a forest could be seen.

They walked towards the door of the hut, at the entrance there was a middle-aged man, observing the tents with a strange expression. At the sound of footsteps, he turned to look at them.

"Good morning!" greeted Fleamont with more cheer than before.

"Good morning," greeted the man James assumed was a muggle.

"Are you Mr. Steve?" asked Fleamont.

"Yes, it is me. What business do you have?" he asked.

"We have had a tent reserved for a few days now. Our last name is Potter," replied Fleamont.

Steve consulted a list and after a few minutes spoke, "They have a plot up there by those big trees, just for one night?"

"For now, yes..." said Fleamont. He didn't know how long the quidditch match might last.

With difficulty, Fleamont paid with muggle money for one night. If their stay was extended, they should come to the cottage and pay for the extra day. From the conversation his father had, James could tell that Mr. Steve was very puzzled by the situation.

Many people booked, something he had never seen before. Also, they were all acting strangely. They wanted to pay him with sizable gold coins, and some were wearing very strange clothes or as if they were out of period.

'Wizards have a lot to learn from muggles...' thought James as he walked with his parents towards their plot.

They walked between long rows of tents. Most of them looked normal. The owners tried to make them look as muggle-like as possible, but they forgot some small details. Like how normal tents don't have chimneys, doorbells, etc.

James rolled his eyes, every time he saw an outlandish and out-of-place tent, it looked like they weren't even trying to go unnoticed by some wizarding families.

Finally, they arrived at their plot, where there was a space with a small sign stuck in the ground that read 'Potter'. Without wasting any more time, they began to set up the tents.

His parents, despite being in favor of the Muggles, did not have their customs and in many ways did not have common sense. For example, to set up a tent by hand. In James' case, it was the same, as in his past life he never went to a camp, as it was a very low-class activity for his family.

After several minutes they managed to set up the tent, although it looked like a normal tent that would fit a maximum of 4 people, it was not like that at all. When James went inside to leave his things, he entered what appeared to be a 4-bedroom apartment with a bathroom and kitchen.

It was neatly furnished and very minimalist, this was a magical tent that his parents had a long time ago. James was not surprised when he entered, as he had seen stranger things this time.

While his parents arranged everything in the tent, they gave James a task to go get twigs to light a fire and cook something. His father wanted to do what a real muggle would do.

With no other choice, he left the tent with a sleepy face and started walking around the camp looking for twigs. A sea of tents stretched out in all directions. It was a very peculiar sight.

'I wonder if Emily and Gwen will have come to watch the finals...' thought James as he lifted some branches from the ground. After thinking about this he dismissed the idea. In the time he had known the two girls he knew they were not quidditch enthusiasts, so it would be odd for them to come.

On his journey to get twigs by hand, he came to an area where there were tents of the same color, and with a symbol. He knew it was the Australian supporters.

After some time of exploration, he had enough twigs, so he returned to his tent, his father was already outside, holding a manual entitled: How to light a fire the muggle way.

Somehow, they managed to start the fire. His mother had bought marshmallows and with the help of the fire they roasted them. Their grandfather arrived soon after. The game was to be played in the evening.

As the afternoon wore on, excitement grew in the camp, making it more difficult for the Ministry workers to control the signs of magic that were popping up everywhere.

There were many vendors offering items from both the Australian and French teams. James' parents bought him the souvenirs he wanted, especially statuettes of two very famous Australian players and omnichromes to watch the game.

The omnioculars allow you to re-watch a play, have it happen in slow motion, and provide an analysis of that play. A great item for a quidditch enthusiast like James, its price was a whopping ten galleons.

James couldn't believe that such an object was more expensive than a wand, 'What is it with the economy of the magical world...?' thought James as he held the omnichannel in his hands.

Finally, the deep rumbling sound of a gong was heard on the other side of the forest, and immediately blue, and red lanterns lit up through the trees, marking the way to the stadium.

"It's time! Let's go!" announced Henry with enthusiasm as impatient as the others.

Wasting no time, the Potter Family sped into the forest along the path marked by the lanterns. They could hear the shouts, the laughter, the snatches of song from the thousands of people walking with them. The feverish atmosphere of excitement was easily contagious. James was very excited to witness the final. He had never been to an event of such magnitude.

The World Cup that was held in 1966 he did not attend as it was too far away, and his team was eliminated in very early rounds, although now England did not make it to the final, it was still a final worth watching and more so when they were so close.

They walked through the woods with the crowd until they found themselves in the shadow of a colossal stadium. It reminded James of the soccer stadiums of his past life that could hold 80,000 people. Specifically, the Emirates Stadium that belonged to the soccer team called Arsenal was in London, and he had seen it from the outside countless times.

With his family, they made their way to the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of bustling wizards and sorceresses.

"Prime seats. Main grandstand. Straight ahead to the top of the stairs," said the Ministry wizard at the door as he checked James and the others' entrances.

They walked up with the crowd, who were slowly entering through the doors leading to the stands to the right and left. The Potters continued up until they reached the top of the stairs. Where they found themselves in a small grandstand located at the highest part of the stadium.

James could see thousands of wizards and witches taking their seats in the stands arranged around the long oval pitch. From that elevated position, the field appeared to be lined with velvet. At each end stood three poles with their hoops, fifty feet high.

James imagined himself on the pitch with his new broom the Nimbus 1001 being watched by all these people. He suddenly felt his pulse increase being watched by thousands of screaming people would make you feel great pressure while playing quidditch.

Few things made him nervous, and this was one of them, neither in this nor in his past life was he watched by hundreds of thousands of people, so it would be a new situation for him.

James curiously pulled out the omnitools and began to test them. His mother who was sitting next to him was reading a program, "Before the game starts, there will be an exhibition of the team's mascots," she read aloud.

"That's always worth seeing. National teams bring homegrown creatures to put on a little display," commented Henry.

Over the next half hour, the grandstand slowly filled up. The seats next to James were filled by a family of four. A blond, half-bald man, his blond wife, and two girls. One girl looked James' age, like her parents she had golden blonde hair that fell in soft waves. She had a few freckles on her face, and the other girl was smaller.

At last, a voice rose over the din of the crowd already crowding the stadium and boomed from every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 416th edition of the Quidditch World Cup!"