REQUIEM - [h.p]

IV; wherein lies the void

| YEAR 4; CHAPTER THREE |
WHEREIN LIES THE VOID

     IF EDWYN HAD THOUGHT the train station for the Hogwarts Express was immense, then he's got to admit that the Quidditch World Cup Stadium was truly tremendous; it was hard to even see past a kilometre. Located on the outskirts of Canterbury, the history here was rich, especially in this ‌field of land. Much more than a stadium, the site acted as a popular, bustling economic cultivator. The entire site had once been an ancient magical hearth that old magic users would use as a conduit to communicate with their Gods. Thousands of years old, this patch has seen countless improvements and was eventually transformed into the Quidditch ground it was now shortly after the sports' creation. Ever since then, it has remained a favoured hub for Quidditch matches, both local and otherwise, carefully maintained and built upon over the years, and hopefully into the future.

But a Quidditch field wasn't the only attraction in this area. Where large masses of foot traffic went, there was always business. And where there was business, there were people from all over.

Hundreds of booths were set up around the perimeter of the stadium, and you could barely walk a foot without hearing the hollers of vendors and peddlers trying to sell their curiosities or peculiar knick-knacks that were, more often than not, counterfeited shams.

It was astounding to observe. Back at Home, he avoided any larger gatherings of people. Except for the train to school every year, this was the most amount of people he's seen in one place. And he truly meant numerous people. Because it was crowded. Incredibly, incomprehensibly, crowded.

Though he certainly couldn't deny just how diverse it was. He could even see it in some of the trading going on within the stalls. Through the different cultures playing out and spreading within the bustling market with the goods being sold and the languages being spoken. And the history within the very land nearly breathed, it all held this air. It even felt ancient; it made his skin tingle and sent soft whispers curling in the back of his mind.

Still, he couldn't shake off that feeling of uncertainty and unease. Nobody was paying him any mind as they travelled through the field with a levity he was finding hard to imitate, but there was still that familiar feeling of discomfort. Half of it was borne from standing alone within this incomprehensible sea of witches and wizards. The other half came from something strange and foreign, he wasn't quite sure how to describe it. It was like an incessant scratch in his skull. Something that never faded from his mind, even now as he stood leisurely and safe, with the knowledge that he was unseen. A sort of intuition. 

Mary had left to set up their tent, though he did selfishly wish that she had stayed with him if only to help ease his growing distress.

Though it only lasted for a minute longer, and he let out a relieved sigh at the sight of a few familiar faces. He was certain that the family towing alongside Cedric and an older man, most likely his father was the Weasleys. That red hair was unmistakable, and his theory was then confirmed once he locked eyes with one Ron Weasley. Though, he quickly averted his gaze in favour of sending a wave toward Cedric, a gesture that his friend caught and readily returned.