Jupiter | Harry James Potter

iv ; beautiful

A/N
okay the ending of this is my actual favorite thing ever...

-

"Why don't you, Harry, Jove, and Hermione go and get us some water then." Mr. Weasley said as he handed over a kettle and a couple of saucepans to Ron. "And the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven." Ron moaned. "Why can't we just-"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" Mr. Weasley said, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

"Do Muggles actually cook on fires outside?" I asked as Ron shoved a large saucepan into my arms.

"Yeah." Harry said, and Hermione nodded.

"That feels... wrong." Ron shuddered as we set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.

"Er... is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" Ron asked.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. We stumbled upon a section of tents enveloped in a dense blanket of shamrocks, giving the impression of peculiarly shaped hillocks emerging from the ground. Smiling faces peeked out from beneath the open flaps. Suddenly, our names echoed from behind us.

"Harry! Jove! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, our fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" Seamus grinned. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" Mrs. Finnigan scoffed in a heavy Irish accent. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" She added, eyeing the four of us beadily.

When we had assured her that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we set off again, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" Hermione sighed wonderously as she looked around at all of the tents.

"Let's go and have a look." Harry suggested as he pointed to a large patch of tents upheld, where the Bulgarian flag — white, green, and red — was fluttering in the breeze.

The tents in this area weren't adorned with vegetation, but every single one sported the same poster affixed to it: a depiction of a notably grumpy face with thick black eyebrows. Naturally, the image was animated, but its only actions were occasional blinks and scowls.

"Krum." Ron muttered quietly.

"Here we go." I groaned, wishing I could tune him out. Ron had been going on about Viktor Krum all summer, and quite frankly, I was sure he had a bit of a crush on him.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Krum!" Ron grinned. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy." Hermione said, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at us.

"Really grumpy'?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens as we reached the water tap. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just seventeen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."