No one's POV
Ludo Bagman had made bets with Mr. Weasley who had bet one galleon.
The twins had bet thirty-seven galleons, fifteen sickles, three knuts and a fake wand that China would take the cup with Qin Shi Huang catching the Snitch against Bulgaria.
Much later a sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on.
By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared.
The Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable, and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.
Salesman were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise.
There were luminous rosettes –green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria, red and yellow for China– which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, Chinese strawhats which seemed to have images of lions and dragons on it.
"This looks so exciting!" Jessie said excitedly as they strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs.
Jessie had purchased a dancing-shamrock hat and a Chinese strawhat for Kyle.
Daphne had snickered when she put a dancing-shamrock hat on Harry's head who merely kept a straight face.
"I hate the Irish team." He said as he looked at the hat while Daphne merely rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek.
"It's only for a bit." She said and that was something Harry would hold her to.
Harry had opted to simply by a flag of the Chinese team while Hermione had gotten programmes for them.
Their money bags lighter, they went back to the tents.
Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag.
Ron had a large rosette of Ireland, a dancing shamrock hat as well as a small figure of Viktor Krum who was pacing up and down on his hand glaring up at the shamrock hat.
And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and, at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees lighting a path to the pitch.
"It's time!" Mr. Weasley said, looking as excited as any of them.
"Come on, let's go!"
TimeSkip
Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail.
They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing.
The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious well almost, Harry kept a cold face as he normally did.
They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.
Though Harry could only see a fraction of the immense golden walls surrounding the pitch, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.
"Seats a hundred thousand." Mr. Weasley said, spotting the awestruck look on Kyle and Jessie's face.
"Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year, Muggle repelling Charms on every inch of it, every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again...bless them." He added fondly, leading the way towards the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.
"Prime seats!" A Ministry witch said at the entrance, when she checked their tickets.
"Top box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."
The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple.
They clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right.
Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the tool of the staircase, and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts.
About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Harry, filing I to the front seats with the Weasleys, his sister, friends and wife, looked down upon a scene the like of which he had never imagined.
A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in seats which rose in levels around the long oval pitch.
Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light that seemed to come from the stadium itself.
The pitch looked smooth gas velvet from their lofty position.
At either end of the pitch stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high, right opposite them, almost at Harry's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard.
Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giants hand was scrawling upon it and then wiping it off again, watching it, Harry saw that it was flashing advertisements across the pitch.
Harry tore his eye away from the sign and looked over his shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with them.
So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second Las seat at the end of the row behind them.
Harry took no interest in it as he turned back as Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasselled programme.
"A display from the teams mascots will precede the match." She read aloud.
"Oh, that's always worth watching." Mr. Weasley said.
"National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."
The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.
Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously important wizards.
Percy greeted some as well but his main focus was that he wanted to watch the Quidditch.
Harry had just spent time talking to Daphne, Jessie and Kyle as well as Ginny and occasionally Hermione who was still quite enveloped in the programme before he heard someone speak.
"Ah, and here's Lucius!"
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