The moment the Portkey activated, the old boot jerked violently.
Harry felt a powerful tug behind his navel and suddenly found himself flying through the air. The world became a blur as the group spun through space at incredible speed.
For someone experiencing it for the first time, it was a miserable feeling, and Harry immediately understood why nobody seemed enthusiastic about Portkeys.
Beside him, Hermione let out a startled scream while trying to keep hold of the boot, while Ron looked equally miserable as the spinning continued.
A few seconds later, the ground rushed toward them.
"Let go!" Arthur shouted.
Everyone released the Portkey.
Harry hit the ground face-first, with Ron crashing down beside him in almost the exact same manner. Fred and George dropped onto their knees before quickly standing again as though everything had gone according to plan, while Victor landed cleanly on both feet.
At some point during the journey, Hermione had grabbed onto him, and when they arrived, momentum carried her directly into his back before she quickly stepped away.
"Have a rough landing?" Arthur asked as he approached with Amos and Cedric.
Harry pushed himself off the grass.
"A little."
Ron remained sprawled on the ground while the twins immediately began laughing at him.
Ignoring them, Victor looked around the campsite.
The field stretched as far as he could see. Hundreds of tents covered the landscape, with more witches and wizards arriving every minute.
Some tents looked perfectly ordinary, while others resembled small palaces complete with towers, banners, and decorative gardens.
Harry stared at the scene in amazement.
The Quidditch World Cup hadn't even started yet, and it was already far larger than anything he had imagined.
Amos pointed toward a distant section of the field.
"Come on. The campsite's this way."
The group gathered their belongings and followed him deeper into the growing sea of tents.
"Well, you guys can go settle in. I should head over to my father's tent," Victor said after spotting Draco near one of the larger camps.
"Meet you at the match," Hermione replied.
Victor nodded before heading off on his own.
The Malfoy campsite wasn't difficult to find.
While most wizarding families were at least attempting to make their tents resemble ordinary Muggle camping equipment, the Malfoys had clearly decided appearances were more important than discretion.
Their tent resembled a small country house sitting in the middle of the campsite.
As Victor approached, he could already hear Draco's voice from inside.
"Father, forget about Victor. He must be wandering somewhere. He isn't interested in Quidditch anyway."
Lucius made a noncommittal sound.
Victor rolled his eyes before pushing aside the entrance flap and stepping inside.
The conversation stopped immediately.
Draco turned around and straightened the moment he saw him.
"Victor."
"Draco."
Several seconds passed before Draco frowned.
"How long have you been standing outside?"
"Long enough."
Draco looked annoyed, while Lucius remained perfectly calm.
Victor took a seat and looked around the tent. The interior was exactly as he remembered, filled with expensive furniture, expensive decorations, and generally expensive everything. The tent itself was larger than several Muggle houses he had seen.
Only pure-blood aristocrats could somehow turn camping into a luxury event.
Later, as they made their way toward the stadium, Draco folded his arms.
"I thought you wouldn't come since you're always lecturing people about not being interested in Quidditch."
"It's not that I'm not interested," Victor replied. "I came because it's a major event. There's a difference."
***
Night eventually arrived, bringing the Quidditch World Cup Final with it.
The stadium was unlike anything Harry had ever seen.
Towering stands rose high into the night sky, packed with witches and wizards from every corner of the world. Thousands of magical lanterns floated overhead while enchanted banners waved through the air. The noise alone was overwhelming.
Harry stood still for a moment as he took everything in.
Ever since entering the magical world, he had heard people talk about the World Cup, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.
"There must be a hundred thousand people here," Hermione said while looking around.
According to the Ministry, there were.
The sheer scale of the event made Harry realize how little of the magical world he had actually seen.
Meanwhile, Arthur led everyone higher and higher into the stadium. By the time they reached their seats, the people below looked tiny.
Ron immediately rushed forward to look over the edge.
"This is brilliant!"
Far below, the Quidditch pitch looked almost miniature, while the players appeared as little more than distant figures.
Meanwhile, in one of the luxury boxes reserved for government officials, wealthy families, and foreign dignitaries, Lucius Malfoy arrived alongside Draco and Victor.
Their seats were considerably closer to the pitch.
Draco looked extremely pleased with himself.
"Father obtained these seats directly through Minister Cornelius Fudge."
Victor looked around the box before turning back to Draco.
Surrounding them were Ministry officials, foreign representatives, and enough politicians to make the entire section feel like a government meeting.
"Draco, is that really something to be proud of?"
Draco frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"You're about to spend the entire match surrounded by old politicians."
Victor gestured toward Fudge and the various officials seated nearby.
"If anything, that sounds lonely."
Draco's expression darkened immediately.
Unfortunately, Victor wasn't finished.
"Ron is probably having more fun than you already."
For a brief moment Draco imagined Ron somewhere high in the stands screaming his head off while surrounded by friends. Meanwhile, he was sitting beside politicians discussing Ministry affairs before the match had even begun.
"Can you stop ruining things for five minutes?" Draco muttered.
Victor smiled.
"No."
*****
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