World Cup Finale

"WE DID IT! WE'RE BLOODY RICH!!"

"IRELAND! IRELAND! OI, OI, OI!!"

Fred and George Weasley were in full celebratory form, dancing arm in arm like madmen in front of the roaring firepit. Their cheeks glowed nearly as red as their hair—flushed from both excitement and the copious amounts of butterbeer they sloshed merrily about in their tankards. Every few seconds, one of them would shout, toast the other, and spill half the contents on their already-soaked robes. The chaos was infectious, and completely unfiltered.

Ginny sat cross-legged on a blanket nearby, arms folded, face torn between secondhand embarrassment and reluctant affection. "Merlin, they're absolutely shameless," she muttered, shaking her head. "It's going to be like this all night, isn't it?"

"At least they're entertaining," Rose replied with a grin, raising her own tankard to her lips. Her butterbeer was of the nonalcoholic variety—Thane had warned her once that she was too honest while intoxicated, and she wasn't keen on testing the theory around certain people. Besides, she never quite saw the appeal in making something as rich and creamy as butterbeer burn like fiendfyre on the way down… or threaten to come back up if you laughed too hard.

Hic.

Rose turned toward the sound, her grin widening as she spotted Luna swaying gently like tall grass in a breeze, her silver eyes dazed and dreamy.

"Luna," Rose asked, trying to suppress a laugh, "how much have you actually had to drink tonight?"

There was a long pause—long enough for Luna to blink slowly and rotate slightly on the spot—before she turned with a luminous smile. "Not much—hic!—but I think the Nurgledwarfs might have spiked my drink when I wasn't looking."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, concerned. "She's gonna be okay, right? I've never seen her like this."

"Oh, she'll be fine," Rose assured, nonchalant as she leaned back on one arm. "Luna's built like an alchemical sponge. All those odd potions she experiments with have made her system absurdly efficient. Plus, I've got a few Cleansing Draughts in my bag if we need to sober her up. Instant fix."

Ginny tilted her head, clearly surprised. "Wait—you can build up a tolerance to potions?"

"Yup," Rose nodded, taking another small sip. "Apparently, it got bad enough that we had to issue a missive to customers—'Stop chugging restorative draughts for paper cuts and stubbed toes.' People were dosing themselves over the tiniest things and frying their receptors. It became a whole thing."

"So what'd the company do?"

"We just made a watered-down version with a built-in tolerance curve," Rose said with a shrug. "That way people could still feel like they were doing something helpful without rendering real potions ineffective when they actually needed them."

Ginny blinked, the realization dawning with amusement and a hint of disbelief. "That's… that's so unfair. You lot create the problem, then invent a new product to solve it—and somehow sell both."

Rose grinned shamelessly, her eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Welcome to Fae Inc., Ginny. We don't waste a good crisis—we bottle it, brand it, and offer it in three sizes."

Ginny groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "You people are menaces."

"Rich menaces," Rose replied, raising her tankard in salute.

Suddenly Luna stood up and began humming softly to a tune only she could hear, twirling in slow, whimsical circles beneath the starlight.

"And beautifully weird ones," Rose added with a smirk watching Luna dance. 

"She's like a forest pixie," Ginny muttered though Luna clearly heard her as she froze on the spot with a gleam in her eyes. 

"Forest Pixies I haven't heard of those?! Do you think there are any nearby?" Luna asked with a burning passion that rivaled the bonfire.

Ginny and Rose glanced at each other for a moment exchanging a silent but intense conversation about who would have to break the bad news that Forest Pixies weren't real. But in the end, neither could bring themselves to break Luna's infectious joy and whimsy. 

"Well, it never hurts to go looking," Rose answered with a sigh as she set down her tankard and stood up much to Luna's joy and Ginny was quick to follow. 

"Yay! Let's go! Let's go!" Luna cheered, quite literally jumping for joy. 

"Hold on, let me scry Thane and tell him where we're going," Rose muttered as she reached into her robes and pulled out her Fae mirror. 

A second later the call was answered, though it wasn't by Thane, "Hello, Rose dear is something the matter?" 

Rose smirked with a knowing smile, "I was wondering where the two of you snuck off to."

"Don't worry I'm being gentle, he'll still be standing for you and Luna later tonight," Daphne replied with an audible smile, "Now why did you call?" 

"Luna is drunk and wants to go looking in the woods for forest pixies," Rose muttered making Daphne laugh, "Ah I see, well be careful and have fun. I'll make sure Thane cheers her up later tonight." 

Disconnected the call Rose gave the thumbs up to Luna who cheered before grabbing Ginny by the arm and pulling her towards the treeline, "Come on, come on!" 

"H-hold up...bloody hell why are you so strong?" Ginny muttered as Luna started to drag her across the ground. 

Shaking her head Rose moved to join the duo as they moved away from the fire. 

---

"Here pixies! Here, pixies, pixies, pixies!" Luna sing-songed cheerfully, cupping her hands to her mouth as she stood precariously atop a gnarled, rotten tree trunk. Her pale hair glowed under the moonlight, casting her silhouette in an ethereal light.

Ginny, standing below with arms crossed, let out a weary sigh. "Luna, I really don't think the pixies are out tonight. Come on, let's head back before someone notices we're gone."

Luna sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye with the sleeve of her robes. "I wanted to see the pixies," she mumbled mournfully.

"I know, Luna," Rose called, stepping up beside Ginny with a calm and coaxing tone, "but it's time to get back to the tent. We've already been gone too long."

That seemed to break through. Luna sighed and without another word, stepped off the tree trunk. She landed with catlike grace, knees barely bending on impact.

Ginny winced. "How do you even do that?"

But before Luna could answer, the night erupted.

There was a blinding flash followed by a thunderous bang. All three girls whirled toward the source just in time to see a pillar of green fire rocket into the air, painting the treetops in flickering emerald light.

"That's… definitely not a pixie," Luna muttered, her brows knitting in disappointment.

Rose didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, she reached into her robes and produced a slim vial of pearly white liquid. "Alright, Luna. Playtime's over. I need you sharp."

"I'm not drunk," Luna protested, but took the vial anyway and downed it with a wince. "Ugh. It tastes like chalk and regret."

Another explosion rocked the earth beneath their feet—then another. Then screaming.

"R-Rose?" Ginny stammered, panic rising like bile in her throat. "What's happening?"

Rose's expression darkened, though her voice remained steady and calm. "I don't know yet. But we're not sticking around to find out. We need to get back. Luna—are you clear?"

"Clear enough," Luna replied, already rubbing her temples as the effects of the Cleansing Draught burned through her system.

"Then we move—"

Rose cut herself off mid-step. Her body went rigid. Her eyes locked onto the treeline, and a chill danced across her skin.

"Rose?" Ginny whispered, taking a step toward her. But Luna caught her wrist, eyes narrowed.

"Don't move," Luna said, her voice low and serious in a way Ginny rarely heard.

Then Rose spoke, her voice razor-sharp and cold as steel. "You have five seconds to drop the illusion... or you lose the option to surrender."

For a moment, the woods were deathly still.

Then the shadows shivered. The darkness peeled away like an oil slick, revealing half a dozen dark-robed figures surrounding them in a tight semi-circle.

Ginny gasped and shrank closer to Luna, who maintained her eerie serenity.

"Luna," Rose muttered without turning, "keep her safe."

"Of course."

Without another word, Rose stepped forward. Frost began creeping along the twin blades she now held at her sides, the steel singing with enchanted cold.

"Rose, what are you—?" Ginny started, but Luna pulled her gently back just as a radiant circle of light burst into existence around them. The rune inscribed barrier shimmered upward like a dome of golden glass.

"She knows what she's doing," Luna whispered.

One of the cloaked figures chuckled darkly. "Well, what do we have here? Three little girls, all alone in the woods—"

He never finished the sentence.

Rose vanished.

In a heartbeat, she closed the distance in a blur of snow and mist, her movement silent but swift, her daggers leaving glistening streaks of ice in the air. The leader's wand hand was already raised, but Rose's blade slashed through the wrist mid-incantation. The severed hand hit the ground with a soft crunch, instantly frozen around the wand.

There was a beat of silence.

Then the man screamed, clutching his ruined arm and crumpling to his knees, howling like a wounded animal.

The others moved—wands raised, spells flying.

But the first volley shattered against the glowing dome that protected Luna and Ginny, light and rune absorbing hexes with elegant ease.

Rose was already in motion again, darting through the space between curses like wind through branches. Her daggers slashed, flipped, and spun, striking flesh and spell alike.

A jet of crimson light streaked toward her.

Rose twisted her wrist and summoned a crystalline disk of ice, thick as a shield, to deflect the blast. The curse rebounded into the trees, scorching bark as it exploded.

A second attacker lunged. He got two steps before the ground beneath his feet erupted in jagged spears of glacial ice. He screamed as he was impaled—then fell silent.

Another tried to flank her. Rose ducked low, swept his legs with a roll, and jammed her dagger into the ground. Ice spiderwebbed out from the point of contact, freezing him solid from the knees down. He tried to scream—then stopped as Rose flicked her wrist and a shard of ice flew into his throat, clean and silent.

The final two assailants looked at each other.

One ran.

Rose raised her hand. A volley of tiny icicles shot out like bullets, peppering the runner's legs. He collapsed mid-stride, sobbing in pain.

The last one hesitated—then snarled and fired a curse.

Rose spun. A spiral of frost erupted around her, deflecting the spell midair. In the same motion, she drove her elbow into the attacker's sternum, knocking the breath from him, then jabbed a dagger to his throat. Frost bloomed across his collar, and he went limp.

Silence returned to the forest—except for the crackling of the frozen bodies and the soft, cooling hiss of spellfire against bark.

Rose exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. She stood surrounded by fallen foes, her daggers humming with frost.

Then she turned to Luna and Ginny, calm and almost nonchalant.

"Come on let's go."