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chapter twenty three / bulgarian spirit
With a beaming Mr. Weasley in the lead, all of them hurried into the woods, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, bits of singing. The atmosphere of excitement was highly infectious, and Cassie couldn't stop smiling. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking around loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.
"Seats a hundred thousand," Cassie heard Mr. Weasley tell Harry, who seemed quite in awe of the whole array. "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 around toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.
"Prime seats!" shouted the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."
The stairs to the stadium were carpeted in a rich purple velvet. They clambered up with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered through the doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party continued climbing until Cassie was beyond winded and Hermione had a stitch in her stomach from laughing at something Fred had said.
Immediately, what air Cassie had left in her lungs seemed to abandon her. She stared onto the pitch and was suddenly glad of their high seats – it was quite the advantage point. Her eyes scanned the stadium to see if she could catch a glimpse of where any of her other friends were sitting, but it was useless. She couldn't tell who was sitting three sections over if she tried.
"Dobby?" Harry's voice said, and Cassie turned her attention to the house elf rocking back and forth on the row behind them. The elf looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing its large and tomato-shaped eyes.
"Did sir just call me Dobby?" the house elf squeaked. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats, and even Mr. Weasley seemed to have had his interest peaked. Whoever Dobby was, he seemed pretty popular amongst Cassie's friends.
"Sorry," stammered Harry to the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."
"But I knows Dobby!" screeched the house elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir – and you, sir –" her dark brown eyes widened to the size of salad plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"
