The Quidditch World Cup

"Come on, laddie," barked Moody. "We have them surrounded."

Sirius watched from his position, biting his lower lip in anticipation. His idea of using the Muggle military really worked wonders. The Muggles had sighted a couple of the Death Eaters near Dover. Using utmost secrecy, they had selected the best Aurors they had under their command for this operation.

"Listen here everyone," said Sirius. "We have gone through the plan. We're going to split up. We have received intelligence that the Death Eaters are spread in two groups, so we're going to split up as well. Team Alpha, you'll be coming with me and Auror Moody. Team Beta, you'll be going with Director Black and Head Auror Scrimgeour. You know how dangerous they are. Coordinate with each other and take them out as quickly and efficiently as possible. We can't risk them trying to escape. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Minister," said Kingsley, speaking for them all.

"Good," said Sirius, nodding at them. "Split up; let's get started."

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Peter Pettigrew panicked as he heard screams and saw flashes of spellfire. No, they couldn't have found them! They had been so cautious, so how had the Ministry managed to track them down so quickly? He saw Mulciber get killed by a severing curse. An Auror was also killed, but Moody managed to take out Jugson. Peter's eyes widened in shock as he saw his former best friend Sirius Black duel Rowle, who was one of the best duellists in the inner circle. Sirius was bleeding badly with several cuts all over his body, but he was able to hold his ground. Behind him, his wife Amelia was fighting like her husband, dodging everything Dolohov was throwing at her. Travers screamed in pain as three Aurors surrounded him and fired Reductor curses. He died of a massive hole in his chest but managed to wound an Auror in the process as well.

Peter's insane eyes glinted with worry. He had gained very useful information over the past few months. He could see that the Dark Mark was growing stronger, which meant that the Lestranges and Rookwood had found their master. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord returned to Britain. He couldn't fail their master! He needed to survive to give the Dark Lord all the information he had found out! Transforming into a rat, he scurried away. Ten minutes later, Rowle and Dolohov were killed by Minister of Magic Sirius Black and Head of the D.M.L.E. Amelia Black.

"Take the Minister and the injured Aurors to St Mungo's," said Amelia. "Quickly!"

Amelia looked at the pale form of her husband. He had managed to kill Rowle but he had lost a lot of blood in the process. She watched as four Aurors and Sirius disappeared using a Portkey.

"Damage report," said Amelia.

"Dawlish was killed in the skirmish with Mulciber," said Kingsley, looking worn and tired. "There are no more casualties as of this moment. Auror Roberts was injured by Travers, but he'll recover. The Death Eaters are dead."

"Good," breathed out Amelia. "Pack them up and send them back to the morgue at the Ministry. Search the area for the others. We still have Pettigrew, Rookwood and the Lestranges to catch."

"Yes ma'am."

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The news of the deaths of the four Death Eaters was met with huge cheers by the people of Magical Britain. The common folk were singing Sirius' praises. The fact that the Minister of Magic himself had been involved in the fight and had killed Rowle personally induced a reaction of awe in everybody. Amelia was also highly praised. The Head of the D.M.L.E. had been the one to hold the press conference after the attack. Fresh from the battle, still displaying the scars on her body like a proud warrior, she had explained what had happened. The common witch and wizard were overjoyed, but they were warned that the Lestranges were still out there. Those three were nearly as dangerous as Voldemort himself.

The Quidditch World Cup was being held in Britain this year and massive preparation was needed to ensure that there were no problems. Muggle-repelling charms were placed over the entire area and any Muggles living near the site were Confunded and sent away for the duration so that the International Statute of Secrecy could not be breached. Hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards from all over the world were coming to watch the matches, especially the finals. International Floo and Portkey travel would become very busy, so more people were diverted to that. The Aurors were ordered to secure the area of the stadium so that security was not compromised.

Once he became Minister, Sirius had not wasted any time in allocating more funds for the D.M.L.E. In fact, he had personally donated a hundred thousand Galleons to the department himself, so they were quite well staffed. Not wanting to be outdone, several other families had donated as well after the Department of Magical Revenue introduced a tax deduction on donations to the D.M.L.E., but a certain shady kind with questionable connections stayed away.

Sirius had also met with the Triwizard Committee to discuss the tournament that was to be held at Hogwarts. The negotiations had been going on for three years and it was finally coming to fruition. The only black mark over the whole issue was that Barty Crouch was still the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Sirius had been very ticked off about that fact. Even though he was Minister, Heads of departments were recommended by him but appointed by the Wizengamot. That's why even though Fudge left office, the rest were doing their jobs. Crouch may have made a blunder with Sirius, but the man was still respected by many from when he was the Head of the D.M.L.E. during the last war. So he was here to stay ... for now.

Being so busy with the Ministry and international relations, Sirius and Amelia didn't have time to take care of the politics of the Wizengamot. Rigel was also growing up and the summer demanded that he was irritable. Of course, that's when Harry decided to step up and take charge. Once the second term at Hogwarts was over, he had enlisted the help of the Greengrasses and began planning a ball at Potter Castle, which left Sirius free to work on other matters.

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Harry smiled and chatted with Lord and Lady Acton as they gathered in the Grand Ballroom at Potter Castle. The Potters had not thrown a ball at the castle for a couple of hundred years now and so no one here had seen the place. They were in awe of the wealth and splendour it had to offer and Harry had gone all out to impress the influential witches and wizards with it.

The Grand Ballroom was really well decorated. The house-elves had done a marvellous job. The marble floor had been charmed to make it sparkle, as if the floor was actually carved out of diamond. Multi-coloured flowers were placed in different areas of the ballroom and the decorations were exquisite. Large chandeliers emitting a golden light gave off an amazing display. All in all, it now looked fit for a king, a fact which wasn't far from the truth as the Potter family had stolen from Muggle royalty in the past.

"He's so adorable!" gushed Samantha Hudson, one of the elected representatives on the Wizengamot, as she joined Lady Acton and Madam Marchbanks. Little Rigel Black was nested in his godfather's arms, looking at everyone curiously. His hair was bright blue and eyes a stunning green, looking identical to Harry's.

"Oh, don't be fooled by his display," said Harry wryly. "He really knows how to get away from those taking care of him. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a week."

Rigel giggled and tapped Harry's face with his little hand. Harry smiled fondly as he kissed the boy's temple. "Please enjoy yourselves. I'm very happy that you could grace us with your presence here this evening."

Many others wanted to meet the little Heir Black so Harry was constantly surrounded by a group of girls. Of course, unknown to Harry, those girls not only wanted to meet the cute ten months old Metamorphmagus but also wanted to flirt with Harry. He was dressed today in navy blue Acromantula robes, his shirt buttons made of platinum and embedded with diamonds, handpicked by Lady Greengrass. His raven black hair was let loose this time, framing his face delicately so that Rigel could grab his locks whenever he wanted, making the girls coo over the baby's display in the process.

Harry was now standing more than six feet in height. His powerful inherent magic had made him reach puberty earlier than usual – and that was by magical standards and magical children reached puberty faster than Muggles anyway – and his body reflected that. He was hardly the only one, as this phenomenon was common among witches and wizards who were above average in terms of magical power. The daily exercises he did really helped him look positively scrumptious, giving him a strong, athletic and perfectly cut body. Right now, dressed in rich, tasteful-looking clothes that fit his muscular frame perfectly, he looked very handsome indeed.

"Can he change his hair colour to anything?" asked Parvati Patil excitedly.

"As long as he likes the colour, yes," said Harry, smiling at his godson. "Rigel, look!"

Opening his palm, Harry released a puff of dark red coloured smoke. Rigel giggled as he tried to catch it with his palms, his hair turning from blue to a deep shade of red.

"Wow," said Hestia Carrow, dragging the word slowly in amazement. Blinking her eyes flirtatiously, she said, "You're really good with kids, Harry."

"Yes, you are," Flora Carrow, Hestia's twin sister, moving closer as she smiled sweetly. "Not many boys your age like children, forget taking care of them."

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Daphne pursed her lips as she looked across the Grand Ballroom. She was dressed in a beautiful flowing champagne coloured dress with silver accents; long diamond earrings sparkled from her ears. Her wavy dark blonde hair that reached the middle of her back was expertly styled and a butterfly-shaped hairclip was holding her hair in place. Daphne had developed quite nicely over the past year. Her deep blue eyes and rosy pink lips were already attracting attention from many a young man across the ballroom. Her lush breasts and delicate curves, enhanced due to long hours of dance practices, were eye candy to anyone who danced with her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, with her magical powers – like Harry and most other witches and wizards her age – giving her the physical maturity of an eighteen-year-old Muggle, and Lord Cyrus Greengrass had been glaring at anyone who even looked at his two daughters the wrong way, much to the amusement of his wife.

"Look at that!" hissed Daphne, glaring daggers at Harry from across the ballroom. "Can they be any more obvious in their flirting with him?"

Dylan Lestrange chuckled as he silently sipped his drink.

"You find this funny?"

"I don't know why you're worried, Daph," Dylan replied, looking amused. "Harry loves you. He practically worships the ground you walk on."

"I don't know about that," she huffed, looking cross. "If he did, he wouldn't be flirting with a dozen girls over there!"

"If you don't like it, just go over there and put a stop to it," Dylan shrugged.

"Yeah, and be known as the psycho fiancée of Harry Potter?" snapped Daphne, looking at the group with narrowed eyes. "I can't do that even if I wanted to. I'm the host here, remember? Besides, my mother would kill me for not behaving in such a public place."

"You're jealous," Astoria stated triumphantly, coming to stand next to her.

"Am not!" Daphne retorted indignantly, but the fire in her eyes said something else. She spotted many of their schoolmates and heirs of important families dancing around the ballroom. Neville was dancing with Susan, looking quite shy in the process and doing his best not to step on her toes. Theo Nott and Tracy Davis were laughing as they tried to dance ridiculous moves, earning disapproving looks from Lord Nott for not behaving. Daphne grimaced when she saw Cormac McLaggen talking to a bunch of boys, bragging about himself. She had been requested to dance by him and after one song, wished she had never met him in the first place.

"Miss Greengrass, would you do me the honour of being my partner for this dance?" asked Draco Malfoy formally, stepping up to them.

Astoria giggled as he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "Of course, Draco," she said happily, allowing him to lead her forward.

The smile on Dylan's face faded slightly and he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut as he watched Draco and Astoria. Swallowing his discomfort and reinforcing his still developing mental shields, he turned away. A few moments later, he felt someone gently running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Daphne, cupping his face and brushing her thumb along his cheek in concern.

"Nothing," Dylan murmured.

"If you're sure ..." said Daphne, looking at him sceptically.

"Miss Greengrass, may I have this dance?" asked Cedric Diggory, extending his hand to her.

"Of course," smiled Daphne as she let him lead her away, still looking at Dylan suspiciously. She knew something was bothering him, but couldn't put a finger on it.

Dylan was busy, trying to hold a conversation with the older generation witches and wizards who wanted meeting him, but his eyes kept wandering to where Draco and Astoria were dancing. His stomach clenched but he didn't know why. He and Astoria were best friends; that was it, right? Right? So why was he feeling like this?

Smiling stiffly at Lord and Lady Rosier who were speaking to him – rather disdainfully, in his opinion – he tried not to think about it, but it was proving to be difficult. There was only one person who could help him but it would have to wait until the ball was over.

He needed to talk to Daphne about this. Harry wouldn't understand anyway, so there was no point in even mentioning it to him. Dylan and Daphne had grown closer over the past year too. She was quite different from the emotionally detached Harry Potter, which was a good thing. She would most definitely help him here.

But another question kept nagging in his mind as his eyes trailed Draco and Astoria again. Did Astoria have a crush on Draco? That thought alone was enough to put a knot in Dylan's stomach.

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"Ah, Harry Potter," said Lucius Malfoy smoothly as he approached the host. "This is a very impressive castle you have here."

"It is our pride and joy, Lord Malfoy," said Harry, subconsciously tightening his hold on Rigel protectively. "It was constructed a few years prior to Hogwarts, actually. Some of the wards installed by Godric Gryffindor at Hogwarts were based on those installed here at Potter Castle."

"Really?" asked Lucius, looking at Harry speculatively. "Yet some would think your family is simply overly paranoid. A stone fortress around the grounds, a magical moat around the castle and the wards themselves; a bit of overkill, in my opinion …"

Harry simply smiled slightly. "This castle is the reason the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is not extinct when there was an attack on the family about two hundred years ago. When one has a lot of enemies, you tend to protect yourself and unfortunately, I'm as paranoid as my ancestors, having a lot of enemies myself. The confines of this castle provide me with the best protection possible."

"Indeed," said Lucius, having to grudgingly admit that the defences were very good. He still kept his eyes open for any vulnerability that could be used to exploit if the situation ever arises. "The Potter Massacre; such a horrifying and dark past which the Potters have to remember forever, isn't it? The black mark can never be erased."

"Oh, we all have some shady characters in the family tree, Lord Malfoy," said Harry with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And in some cases, we have some dangerous skeletons in our closet as well. Why, your family has it too, doesn't it? Oh, the horror of a pureblood Malfoy trying to curry the favour of a Muggle in order to marry her ..."

Lucius' eyes were slits of fury as his upper lip curled. "Good luck with your N.E.W.T.s, Mr Potter. You'll be taking them at the end of next year, I trust? I shall be looking forward to seeing what you do with your life. Stay safe. It is not wise to remain unprotected when you are housing a dangerous target. I wonder what Rabastan Lestrange would say were he to know that his bast – ahem – illegitimate son now wears the Heir ring."

"Well, since House Lestrange would have gone extinct if not for Dylan, I would say he should be pleased," said Harry dispassionately.

Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded, walking away. He would have to explore the place to the best of his ability and find a weakness to it. Even the most heavily fortified structure had a weakness; he just needed to find it.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

After the last of the guests had left, Harry changed out of his dress robes, opting to wear only his boxer-briefs instead. Walking back down, he plopped himself on the comfortable couch in the informal drawing room, relaxing as the environmental charms around the room blew cool air in his face. He was exhausted and was glad that Dylan had taken the responsibility of putting Rigel to sleep.

"Had fun at the ball?" asked Daphne as she sat down opposite to him. She too had changed out of her formal dress.

"Oh yes," he said, closing his eyes. "It went better than I thought it would. What about you? I noticed that you were annoyed with Cormac McLaggen. I don't blame you. I've heard rumours of his bragging skills."

"You noticed?" asked Daphne bitterly, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. She gave a watery chuckle. "I'm impressed! And here I thought you had forgotten about my existence the entire evening."

Harry's eyes immediately snapped open. "What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Don't play innocent with me," snapped Daphne angrily. "You didn't talk to me during the entire event. You didn't ask me to dance with you – not once! Instead, you were flirting with every girl that caught your fancy. If you were planning on … do you have intentions of … why did you do it, Harry?"

"Do what?!" asked Harry incredulously. "Daphne, the whole point of this ball was to socialise with everyone. Everybody present wanted to talk to me and, well, I didn't have time to search for you. Besides, we were hosting the ball, and with everything going on, it's not like we had to talk to each other at the time."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Daphne shook her head, and the young wizard was startled to see tears pool in her eyes. He couldn't understand what was going on.

"So, you had been planning it all along," she said in a hollow voice. "I should have known … how stupid of me to have not realised it until now!"

Swallowing hard, Daphne stood up shakily and murmured, "Good night, Harry. I'll see you at the World Cup."

Harry's eyes widened. World Cup? That was weeks away! Did his fiancée just say that he wouldn't get to see her until then? Getting to his feet, he rapidly moved towards her to stop her from leaving.

"Daphne, what the hell is wrong with you?" asked Harry angrily.

"What's wrong with me?" shouted Daphne, her eyes suddenly blazing with fury. "You expect me to remain calm about all this? You ignored me for several hours straight! The ball went on for five hours! Not once did you talk to me or did we make an appearance together! Yes, you were busy talking to people from old to young, but that's the problem. You did it alone! We're betrothed and we should have done it together!"

"You could have just come up to me yourself. Not everything is my fault," said Harry stiffly.

"And how was I to do that when you were being surrounded by girls the entire time? Don't be dense, Harry. They weren't there only for Rigel; they were there to curry favour with you!"

"But what's the point?" asked Harry coldly. "I'm already betrothed to you, aren't I? How would it matter if they flirted with me? Why in Merlin's name are you blowing things way out of proportion? You're honestly not making any sense!"

"Really?" asked Daphne incredulously. "You still haven't realised why I'm this upset? Why didn't you just tell me what you were planning? At least then, I wouldn't have gotten this emotionally involved with you!"

"Oh, just spit it out, will you? What the hell has gotten into you today?" asked Harry, gritting his teeth. "If you're jealous because people were around me –"

"Not another word, Potter," said Daphne, her eyes glinting dangerously, not wanting to admit that he was spot on in detecting her jealousy. "Clearly, since you are too stupid to realise what is going on –"

Harry's eyes flashed angrily at being called stupid. "Well?" he hissed, switching to Parseltongue for an instant in his anger. "Tell me, Greengrass, what did I miss?"

"You have a duel Lordship, a phenomenon that, historically, has nearly always attracted multiple partners for the sole heir or heiress," said Daphne quietly, looking down at her feet. "You are the future Lord Potter-Gryffindor and the Greengrass Lordship will also be inherited by our children. All those girls were doing their best to gain favour with you for that reason. Polygamy and polyandry are rare, but not unheard of. Since you avoided me the entire evening, it's not far off for me to assume that you were looking for a future wife for those titles. If you were considering it, you could have at least told me, Harry. Didn't it cross your mind that I deserve to be informed about it?"

Daphne paused when she was greeted with silence. She looked up in confusion and blinked in surprise at the shocked expression on her fiancé's face. They stood there for a few moments, simply staring at the other, trying to understand what the other was feeling. After nearly a minute, Harry sighed and gently guided her to the sofa. Kneeling before her, taking her hands in his, he began.

"Daphne," he said softly. "I swear to you, such thoughts never even crossed my mind! I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know."

"Y-You mean," she stuttered, "You weren't actually –"

"No! Never! And as for us not making an appearance together, Daph, I seriously don't think anyone noticed!"

"You may not have noticed it, but everybody at the ball did," Daphne whispered miserably as she wiped the tears away. "Just wait and see. Girls will start flirting with you shamelessly to gain your attention, thinking you're willing to take another wife. You might start to get offers from their parents for betrothal contracts and –"

That was all she said before Harry silenced her with a kiss. Sitting down next to her on the couch, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer. Tilting his head to the side, he deepened the kiss, making Daphne moan slightly. Pushing her on her back, he collapsed on top of her, still kissing her. After a minute, they broke apart, gasping for air.

"I know that I should say this more often," said Harry quietly. "I love you very much, Daphne. No girl could compare to you, now or ever! I didn't know that they were flirting with me, honest! I thought they were there for Rigel. I didn't think you would jump to conclusions like this. I'm really sorry, Daphne. But if you're worried about the future, then don't, because there is no way in hell that I'm getting married to anyone but you. You are my one and only. A wise man once said that you insult your wife by taking another and I truly believe that with all my heart."

Daphne's heart swelled with emotion, and she looked like she would burst with happiness. Cupping his face, she whispered, "I'm sorry too, Harry. I –"

Not giving her a chance to speak, he once again kissed her passionately. Daphne enjoyed it, smiling into the kiss as her hands roamed over the skin of his upper body. Harry was hers and no one was going to say otherwise.

Harry smiled as he kissed her jaw, secretly enjoying how she was acting. He never thought that Daphne could be so possessive of him but he liked it. They were already betrothed so it was natural that they felt the other belonged to them, but he had to admit that neither of them had any experience with romance. They could only learn as they went along.

Sitting up, he pulled her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Are you happy now?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Daphne breathed out, running her fingers over his firm chest. Nuzzling his face against hers, she placed light kisses along the side of his face adoringly. "And I love you too."

They stayed there for a while, listening to each other's heartbeats before they locked lips in a heated kiss. Both of them groaned softly in arousal as their hands roamed. Harry's fingers deftly undid the buttons of Daphne's nightdress and slowly slid his hand up.

Daphne giggled slightly, pulling away from him. "Someone's being a bit forward," she teased.

Harry looked back at her with mock innocence. "I figured you'd stop me if you didn't want me to proceed."

"Just stop you? I have half a mind to chop your hands off, Potter!"

A soft laugh escaped his mouth as he pulled her closer, capturing her earlobe with his teeth and nibbling on it. "Highly unlikely," he murmured. "You love me too much to do that."

Daphne moaned sweetly as he began to kiss her neck. She whispered coyly, "You shouldn't believe everything you hear. I'm a compulsive liar."

This time Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Liar," he shot back softly.

Their faces inched closer and soon, they began kissing lazily. Daphne's dress lay pooled on the floor next to them, with her sitting on Harry's lap wearing only her bra and panties.

"You're so beautiful," murmured Harry in awe, taking in the sight before him.

Daphne blushed. She captured his lips in another searing kiss as his hands moved towards her breasts, cupping them. He seemed unsure of how to proceed, so she placed a hand on his and squeezed gently. Wanting to pleasure her fiancé in return, the young Greengrass heiress traced her fingers over the prominent bulge in his underwear.

Harry groaned into her mouth and Daphne couldn't help but smile.

With quick movements, his cock was free from the confines of his underwear and Daphne wasted no time in wrapping her hand around it. It felt warm and hard in her hand. Slowly, she began stroking it.

Pulling back from the kiss, she murmured, "Is that okay?"

Harry made a noise of agreement. They continued kissing slowly, both enjoying the development in the physical aspect of their relationship.

Ten minutes later, they heard the patter of feet on the marble floor outside the drawing room and within moments, Dylan interrupted their solitude. Strangely, he looked crestfallen, something the couple picked up immediately. Harry raised his eyebrows at his fiancée but Daphne shook her head, indicating that she too had no idea why the younger boy was upset. They untangled themselves from each other's arms, looking at the boy worriedly.

"Okay, there's something bothering you," said Daphne quietly as she got off Harry's lap to get dressed. "What's wrong, Dylan?"

Dylan simply raised an eyebrow at their appearance. Harry was practically naked, with his erect cock sticking out of the waistband of his light grey boxer-briefs while Daphne's nightdress was on the floor, wrinkled and creased, with her wearing only a pair of black coloured bra and panties. With a mental shrug, he sat down. After having walked in on them various times over the past year, he was not surprised or embarrassed to see them in such a state.

"I don't understand it myself," he admitted finally. "I – I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when Draco Malfoy asked Astoria to dance."

"Oh, Dylan," said Daphne softly, moving over to give him a warm hug. He immediately melted into her embrace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "It's just a dance."

"Yeah, and they spent the next two hours with each other," muttered Dylan. Harry and Daphne shared looks with each other. Clearly, they had not anticipated this.

"Do you harbour romantic feelings for Astoria?"

"I don't know," he said, running his fingers through his brown hair, upsetting the loose curls. "I – I think I do. I mean, she's my best friend and – well – what's there to not like about her? And now Malfoy comes over and, we're still twelve, I know, but – what chance do I stand against someone like Malfoy?"

"Oh, please," Daphne scoffed. "If there ever was a competition between you and Draco, you would win hands down."

"Exactly," said Harry, sitting on the sofa by his brother's side.

"What?"

"I swear, I'm stuck with the two most clueless boys on the planet," muttered Daphne, shaking her head. "Listen here, lover boy. This is not a competition for my sister's heart, but even if it were, you would win. You and Tori are already close friends. You are a model student; people like talking to you – trust me, there are many who don't like Draco because of his arrogance – you are a Lestrange, so you have the money and standing in society –"

"And a bastard to boot," said Dylan bitterly.

"Dylan, you have to get over that!" Harry said harshly. "There is no escaping it, just like there is no escaping the fact that I'm a Parselmouth. You need to accept the situation for what it is and move on. There isn't anything you can do about it!"

"– not to mention you are much better looking than albino Draco," finished Daphne, acting as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"I'm not better looking than Malfoy," protested Dylan.

"Okay, now you are just fishing for compliments," Daphne glared at him. "Trust me, Dylan, I'm a girl. I know what to look for in a guy and what makes him desirable and there is no comparison between you and Draco. You were looking very handsome today and you know it! I never had to give this speech to Harry because unlike you, he knows of his good looks and is rather proud of it."

"I'm not vain," Harry exclaimed. "Besides, I still stand by the notion that looks aren't everything, but who listens to me?"

"I never said you were," Daphne chuckled. "My point is, if there ever is a choice between you and Draco, I'm confident Tori will make the right choice."

"Daphne, they're only twelve," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, and we are only fourteen. It doesn't matter. From what I have heard from some of the Muggle-borns in school, most Muggles tend to date a lot of different people before they settle down. In the magical world, that doesn't happen, does it? My grandmother – who is a magical theorist, mind you – believes that a witch or wizard's inherent magic would guide them to people who might be the best match for them. Not sure how true it is, but it does explain why such attraction starts young for some and later for others. Your father had an eye on your mother since the age of eleven, did he not?"

Harry nodded in confirmation.

"Well, with my parents, they hardly dated anyone until they were nineteen, which was when they became friends and developed feelings for the other," said Daphne. "But that's not the problem right now. Let me talk to Astoria and –"

"Wait, don't!" cried Dylan, panicking. "If she realises that I like her then –"

"Oh, give me some credit, Dylan!" said Daphne, sounding irritated. "I'm not going to do it directly. I'll let you know of any progress. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Giving Harry a kiss on the cheek, she headed towards the fireplace to Floo home.

Harry folded his arms behind his head. "This certainly has been an interesting day," he muttered.

Dylan groaned as his head hit the back of the sofa. He really hoped that Daphne did not blow it with Astoria. The last thing he wanted was for him to lose his best friend.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

At the end of August, the finals of the Quidditch World Cup approached. Security was beefed up considerably as a million people had come to watch the finals. The turnout was greater than anyone expected. Apparently, Fudge had done a number on international relations, but Sirius took that job seriously when he became Minister of Magic. That, in turn, led to more witches and wizards coming to Britain for the World Cup. The stadium was truly an awe-inspiring spectacle of magic. Great care was taken to ensure that no Muggles were near the vicinity.

Harry and Dylan had taken their respective roles well; Sirius being their guardian meant they had to take part in many diplomatic functions. Harry barely had time to finish attending the sword-fighting class he had enrolled for the summer with how busy he was in interacting with so many international ambassadors and heads of magical governments, not to mention their delegates.

Since he was the Boy-Who-Lived, it generated a lot of attention for him. No one else in the history of the nine hundred plus years of the Killing Curse had ever survived it after making contact with a person, much less reflect it back at the caster – as a baby! Harry didn't mind, though. This was an outstanding opportunity to make international contacts and he was quite happy to speak with them. Languages weren't a problem in the magical world. A translation potion ensured that you could speak and understand any other language, but unfortunately, it didn't work on magical languages like Parseltongue.

The finals of the World Cup had Ireland playing Bulgaria. The stadium holding a million people was packed with advertisements and vendors of every kind. Harry smiled when he saw the biggest hit of them all – Miller's Magic Mirrors. Stores had opened in all six continents after Harry had been willing to spend an additional twenty-five million Galleons on it – it had been worth every single coin of gold. The mirrors had been a major hit everywhere and Harry couldn't believe the amount of gold he was receiving as he owned half the company. Serena Miller had become a world-famous enchantress in a blink of an eye. Her face now appeared in magical business magazines and she had repeatedly thanked Harry for what he had done. Truthfully, she would never have become this big without Harry willing to contribute millions of Galleons to fund her business.

Then there had been the simple, unintentional investment he and Sirius had made a few years prior. Firebolt Broomsticks had been very new to the market and Harry had found it interesting that the manufacturer said he was going to create a new form of broomsticks that would be the fastest in the world. Giving him a chance, they both had invested in it on the advice of Ragnok – not knowing that it would be very profitable in the future. The Firebolt had become THE broomstick for Quidditch in international matches. Harry himself had been gifted one by his godfather for his birthday and he couldn't believe how amazing it was.

As they climbed up the stairs of the stadium, they reached the Top Box which had several purple and glit chairs, clearly meant for important people – and those who could afford the outrageous prices needed to sit here. Apparently, Lucius did not mind spending thousands of Galleons on three seats as he, Narcissa and Draco were here. Harry chuckled mentally. Say what you want about Lucius, but there was no denying that he loved his family. Not many would have spent that much money to take their son to a Quidditch match and acquire seats at the Top Box, but then again, Lucius might have been here to make business connections himself.

Sirius and Amelia were dressed in rich robes as they greeted the delegation brought by the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria. Harry had to blink a few times when he spotted the last people he expected to see here.

"What are you guys doing here?" asked Harry with a surprised smile.

"Attending the Quidditch World Cup, of course!" said Fred Weasley happily.

"Ludo Bagman owed a few large favours to dad," George told him quietly.

"Ah, understood."

"Harry, this is our oldest brother Bill," said Fred. "He works for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. And this is our second-oldest brother, Charlie. He works in the Romanian Dragon Reserve. Guys, this is our friend, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Potter," Bill smiled as he shook Harry's hand. "Fred and George have told us a lot about you."

"It's not every day you get to meet your boss," grinned Charlie.

Harry chuckled as he shook Charlie's hand. Ron Weasley apparently heard that so he said, "What boss?"

"Harry owns the dragon reserve Charlie works for," George answered with a casual shrug.

Daphne had been observing the family critically.

The Weasley family, until recently, had been very poor but the incident with Lockhart, however bad it was, helped them as it gave them a lot of money. They got half of Lockhart's total wealth, which thanks to his book sales, was considerable for someone of their station. The clothes they now wore were not second hand and the increase in their confidence was noticeable.

Hearing a child crying, Harry turned around. Amelia was trying to calm Rigel down, unsuccessfully, as she already hands her hands full.

"Harry, please calm him down," said Amelia desperately, handing the baby off to his godfather.

"Don't worry, Aunt Amy, I'll handle it," said Harry soothingly, taking the baby from her arms. "Oh, come on Rigel. Cheer up. Look! Those advertisements are sparkly!"

Dylan also joined him and people in the top box were given a show of the twelve and fourteen-year-old boys trying to calm down the one-year-old baby. After about fifteen minutes, his crying subsided and Rigel's hair turned auburn and eyes his favourite shade of emerald green.

Astoria was chatting with Dylan, telling how cute it was to watch him with little Rigel when someone else decided to make their presence known.

"Hello Astoria," said Draco in his usual drawling voice.

"Oh, Hi Draco," Astoria smiled brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I wasn't about to miss the World Cup!" said Draco, grinning. Dylan quietly left, not wanting to be involved in their conversation, something which Astoria noticed. Not that Draco had acknowledged Dylan anyway, so it didn't matter.

Sitting next to Harry and Daphne, he sighed. "I take it you still haven't spoken to her?" he asked quietly.

"Not yet," said Daphne. "I was thinking of doing it tonight."

A few minutes later, Astoria returned and sat next to Dylan, wondering why he was suddenly silent and withdrawn. Harry handed Rigel over to Daphne and went to Sirius who had beckoned him. He spent several minutes talking to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and his daughter who wanted to be a professional duellist once she graduated from Durmstrang. Daphne pursed her lips at seeing the Minister's daughter blatantly flirting with Harry and checking him out, but kept her silence.

The Irish team mascots were unveiled and it turned out that the Department of Magical Games and Sports had really outdone themselves. Leprechauns were flying over their heads, dropping thick gold coins. Harry was quite amused when people began diving under their seats, trying to scoop as many coins as they could.

"And now the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" shouted Ludo Bagman, looking expectantly down at the pitch.

"I should have known," said Daphne darkly as the Veela emerged. She blinked her eyes in shock when Harry simply kissed her on the cheek.

"Who needs Veela when I have you?" he whispered in her ear. Daphne felt her face heat up as she blushed.

Dylan wasn't so successful in fighting off the allure, though. He had gotten up and was about to dive from the Top Box (not that he would have succeeded as there were wards preventing anyone from doing that), but he was pulled back by an annoyed looking Astoria.

"Huh?" he said, looking confused. "What's going on?"

"You were affected by the Veela allure," said Astoria through gritted teeth. Somehow, she didn't like it. She knew it was natural for all young boys and men to be affected by it – hell, even Harry's gaze had softened – but when Dylan acted like that, her stomach clenched painfully. Why did that happen?

"Oh," said Dylan, blushing madly. "Sorry about that."

And then the game started. It was really amazing, especially with the enormous Miller's mirrors being placed at every corner of the stadium. Small crystals followed the players everywhere and once the goal was scored, the mirrors would play the same in slow motion. Everyone enjoyed themselves and the food served at the Top Box was spectacular. The match ended with Ireland winning 170-160 with Victor Krum catching the snitch. The noise was deafening but Harry had already placed a silencing charm around Rigel so that he did not have to deal with the noise. Once the trophies were handed out, people began leaving the stadium to celebrate. The people in the Top Box adjourned to the after party which was held with all the players and officials.

Amelia had given strict instructions to ensure everything was under control outside. The last thing they needed was something to destroy all the good international relations they had built up over the past six months.

"You were brilliant, Mr Krum," said Harry, smiling slightly at the seeker. "I have tried the Wronksi Feint many times myself, but I must admit, I usually pull up a little higher than you."

"Harry Potter, right?" asked Krum, frowning slightly.

"Yes, nice to meet you," said Harry shaking his hand.

"You're a seeker too?"

"I play for my House team at Hogwarts," Harry shrugged. "We were able to win the Quidditch Cup for the last two years. I love the game, but I don't think I'll be playing professionally. I heard you're still at school. It must be difficult to manage school and practice sessions at the same time."

"You get used to it after a while. I love playing Quidditch which is why I deal with it, though I could do without -"

"– the creepy, stalking fans?" finished Harry, looking amused. "I can understand how you feel. I've just gotten used to dealing with it."

The after party went on for a few hours as delicious food was served to everyone. At two in the morning when Sirius, Amelia, Harry, Rigel and Dylan returned to Black Manor, they breathed a sigh of relief. The Quidditch World Cup had ended without any problems and had been a massive hit.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"Daphne? You awake?"

"I am now. Come on in, Tori."

The lighting charms activated to a dim setting, bathing the room with light. Daphne was sprawled on her bed and was looking at her sister with one eye open. Astoria closed the door of the room and sat down on the bed.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," said Astoria, looking nervous. Daphne raised an eyebrow. It was a far cry from the confident, sarcastic girl she was used to.

"What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Astoria began. She told Daphne about how Dylan's behaviour had confused her at the World Cup. She had noticed that he had become withdrawn suddenly and didn't speak to her. Then it was her reaction to him being attracted to the Veela. She was quite confused.

"Do you like him, Tori?" asked Daphne, observing her sister.

"I – I don't know," admitted Astoria. "I mean, he's my best friend and we spend a lot of time with each other; he's cute and – I thought I had a crush on Draco, but now ..."

After a minute of silence, she said, "What if he stops being my friend if he realises that like him? What if he feels awkward around me? I don't want to lose him."

Daphne smiled. "Tell me something; why do you think Dylan became withdrawn before the match?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what were you doing right before that happened?"

"I was talking to Draco," answered Astoria promptly.

"Uh-huh. I noticed the same reaction in him during the ball at Potter Castle. When Draco asked you to dance, he became silent and withdrawn."

"Why?" asked Astoria with a frown on her face.

"Oh, come on, Tori!" snapped Daphne. "You're smarter than that! Put the pieces together! Dylan is a chatterbox. For him to become silent like that means he didn't like you spending time with Draco!"

"But why would he not like it?" urged Astoria. "Unless –"

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean – he has a crush on me?"

"I don't know," Daphne shrugged casually. "That's something you have to figure out yourself. But tell me something – if there ever were a competition for your heart between Draco Malfoy and Dylan Lestrange, who do you think would win?"

Astoria stared out of the windows, the cool breeze ruffling her brown hair as a small, shy smile formed on her lips. Her cheeks turned pink as she got off the bed.

"Thanks, Daphne," she said quietly. "Can you keep this between us?"

"Of course, what are sisters for?" Daphne smirked at her. "You have another year before you actually start dating boys, Tori. Daddy wouldn't allow you to date before that. Take your time."

"I don't need time," whispered Astoria as she left the room with a happy smile on her face. A smirk formed on her lips as she thought about many delicious ways she could give Dylan hints about her having a crush on him, but not outright telling him. This was going to be fun!