In Servitude to the Dark || Tom Riddle

𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝘾𝙪𝙥 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧!

August 8, 1994

When Aster made it back to lot #4, dusk was fast approaching and a sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the camp. 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 pretense disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Aster was pleased to run into Cho along the way back. The pretty Asian Ravenclaw was proudly wearing a Tutshill Tornadoes badge on her robes and was sporting a bright green scarf in support of Ireland. The pair had a short, but lively debate about the makeup of the teams for Hogwarts next term (Cho was slightly upset that she'd never get the chance to test her own skills against Aster's), both agreeing that Flint's departure and Malfoy's incompetence pretty much guaranteed that Slytherin would be at the bottom of the ranks for quite some time.

The pair shared a brief hug (and a surprising but strangely pleasing brief groping of her arse by the older witch, with a brief wink from Cho in response to her shock) before Aster finished her trek back to the lot.

After sharing the snacks she had bought with her guardians, and passing out the omnioculars (Sirius spent a good half hour tinkering and discovering all the cool little features. "We didn't have this sort of thing 12 years ago...oh, look!  It has a slow-motion replay function too!"), the group gathered up their coats and gloves to prepare for the match.

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 field.

"It's time!" Sirius jumped to his feet and pulled Aster up with him, drawing a startled laugh from the dark-haired girl. "Come on, let's go!"

They walked through the woods for twenty minutes, following the lantern-lit trail.  At last, they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium, though Aster could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Sirius said, spotting the awestruck look on Aster's face. "I heard the Ministry task force of 500 worked on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it."  Sirius shook his head as if in disbelief as he led the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "VIP Box! Straight upstairs, Mr. Black, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward squeezing through the crowd.  After much jostling, and Aster grumbling about being short, they finally reached the top 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 goal posts.  About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Aster, filing into the front seats, looked down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined.

Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; almost at Aster's eye level.

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. There was an awkward moment when Sirius bluntly asked Arthur where the rest of his family was since Aster hadn't told him about what happened with Bagman.  Arthur stuttered a bit and shot a glance at a sheepish Aster. Ironically, it was Cornelius Fudge, who butted in and saved them from even more awkwardness.