Bound Together

Chapter One – The Quidditch World Cup

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked him, clutching a stitch in her side as she came over the hill.

They had left early for the Quidditch World Cup, but Mr Weasley hadn’t told them how far it would be. It didn’t really affect Harry as Wood had them do physical training off their brooms to get ready for Quidditch. Hermione was not so fortunate and was currently holding onto him for support.

“Yeah why?” He wasn’t showing signs of stopping or even struggling.

“Because you’ve not said a word since we left the Burrow, you didn’t even respond to Ginny calling you to walk with us” She had a worried look on her flushed face.

“Oh?” He’d been so in his head that he hadn’t even noticed. The dream of the old man hitting the ground after an eerily familiar green light, of Voldemort and Wormtail plotting something. Ever since, his scar had been at a dull ache, and he had to try and clear his mind, so he didn’t see the old man’s pale face staring up at him in horror. He knew he should tell Ron and Hermione but didn’t really want to deal with the third degree they’d give him. He knew they cared but sometimes it just felt like too much pressure was on him to tell them everything.

"Whew," panted Mr Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater and he pulled up beside them. "We’ve  made good time - we've got ten minutes." He declared as he gazed around for something.

“I’m fine Hermione” He said throwing his arm over her shoulder with a grin, “Honestly” he responded seeing the doubtful look on her face.

"Okay kids, we just need to find the Portkey," yelled Mr Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big....Come on...".

“Portkey?” Harry questioned Hermione, who broke out of her concern at the chance to discuss something magical. “It’s an object that can be enchanted to transport the user to a set location, the Ministry regulate them and are mainly used for international travel” she explained. “Although, most have a set timer so hopefully we find it, the worried look crossed her face again.

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout broke their focus.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it." Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted.

Mr Weasley was shaking hands with a wizard with a slightly red cheeks and a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric awkwardly greeted them, Harry was surprised that the handsome Hufflepuff seemed so awkward, he was one of the most popular guys at school and seemed quite self-assure, but not cocky. Everybody said hi back except the twins, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

Mr Diggory gave them all a short wave and a smile, he had a rather pompous look about him. "Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you; I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. But we wouldn’t miss this for the world, even though the tickets were rather pricey. Mind you, looks like I got off easy...." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry.

Harry internally groaned, every time he met someone it would happen the same way as they immediately searched for the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

"Cedric has talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory, puffing out his chest. "Told us all about playing against you last year, I told him, Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that you beat Harry Potter!" he said proudly, as if he himself had accomplished it.

He could see the Weasley children go red in the face whilst Mr Weasley and Hermione shuffled awkwardly. Harry found it rather amusing, he clearly loved his son even if he was trying to embarrass Harry to show it.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," Cedric muttered. “I told you it was an accident"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos, slapping his son on his back.

"Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman, but the best man won, I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!" He chortled.

“Well we best get into position” Mr Weasley interrupted hastily as he instructed them all to place a finger on the boot, Harry was stuck in-between Cedric and Hermione.

“3-2-1” And the world around him disappeared as he felt a pull behind his navel. He couldn’t make out much except for blurry faces stretching and Hermione’s screams in his ear, although they could have easily been his.

A grassy field appeared beneath him as everyone, minus Mr Weasley, Cedric and his dad, fell to the ground with collective groans and complaints. The Hufflepuff seeker walked over to Harry and Hermione with a wry grin and offered his hand to them. The two took a hand as a light blush adorned their face from embarrassment.

“Listen Potter, I’m sorry about my dad … he can be a bit…” Cedric trailed off.

“Overenthusiastic?” Harry said with a grin that caused Cedric to let out a slight laugh.

“Exactly”

“Right my lot, let’s head to our plot. Cya Amos, Cedric” Arthur tipped his hat at them and lead the group away.

After helping the Weasley’s set up the tent, the muggle way, Harry and Ron threw on an  Irish Quidditch jersey and had Mr Weasley change the colour of Hermione’s jumper green, before exploring the campsite.

They passed faces they knew; Oliver Wood was bouncing round outside his tent in excitement talking to Ron and Harry about the match whilst Harry and Hermione briefly spoke to Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott about the Runes project over Summer.

"Er - is it my eyes or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, Irish flags adorning every tent and connected to large posts in the ground. Harry could see a group of elderly women by the fire painting the faces of tired eye’d children getting

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, their 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 Dean, their fellow,  Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" said Mrs. Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. Glad to see you’re in solidarity with us" she added, eyeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a smile. When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again to explore the grounds.

Harry dropped the Omnioculars from his face in shock before jumping up and cheering for Ireland’s win, jumping up and down with the Weasley’s, even Hermione was screaming in excitement.

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good, so he wanted to end it on his terms”

Harry looked out at the green mass beneath him, over two hundred thousand people dressed in green had become one singularity of joy and applause.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

Into the box walked the Bulgarian team, a bruised and bloodied Krum leading the charge as camera flashes surrounded them, they all shook both Fudge’s and Oblonski’s hand before getting photos with them.

“Vah, Minister Fudge, perhaps ve should have a v’oto taken with Mr Krum and Potter, vhat better vay to show our international cooperation” Oblinski said, reaching out and grabbing Harry’s shoulder. Fudge’s eyes lit up as he bumbled in excited agreement.

A photographer ushered the four into a corner and began to take photos. “You are the boy who lived, ja?” Krum said quietly to the side.

“Yeah, that’s the name I’m stuck with” Harry responded with an awkward laugh, torn between admiration and awkwardness. Krum said nothing else, and Harry was soon reunited with the Weasley’s who were clapping for the entrance of the Irish team.

“What was he like?” Ron said, almost dreamily, as they two say on their beds drinking Butterbeer.

“How many times am I going to have to answer this, Ron?” Harry groaned. The Weasley hadn’t gotten over the fact Harry met his idol and seemed to want to hear every detail about the encounter, despite Harry explaining very little happened.

All around them there was music and cheers as the Irish fans celebrated the win. Music was playing in their own tent and the twins had pulled Hermione into a weird abstract dance where they twisted her and each other round constantly whilst Charlie and Ginny cheered them on from the side. Percy silently sat working on his report in the corner, rolling his eyes every chance he got.

He wasn’t sure exactly when the screaming began. At first he didn’t notice, as they almost harmonised with the singing and music outside the tent. Until Mr Weasley ran in with a panicked yet serious look on his face.

“Everybody out now! Jackets on and wands ready!” He yelled.

“Now!” He yelled when everyone froze in shock.

Harry jumped out of bed and fumbled to get his jacket on, panicking he felt all over trying to find his wand.

“We need to help the ministry! Fred, George get the others to the woods, now!” Mr Weasley ordered before running out the tent with Percy, Bill and Charlie in tow.

“Harry! Let’s go” yelled Hermione.

There! Under the bottom bunk his wand was laying there having likely rolled off when he jumped on it.

He grasped it in his hand and followed his friends out of the tent and into the horror that awaited them. Fire raged around them as tents burst into flame, raining ash down on the fleeing fans. The sky was hazed orange by the flames. Far away, but dangerously close a group of hooded and masked men were marching through in a tight formation, some splintered off to set the grounds alight.

“Run! To the forest!”

They immediately began to run, trying to find a path to the forest in all of the chaos. Fred, George and Ginny were the first to split off as a flaming cart seemed to fall out of the sky in between them. Large splinters of wood burst into the air cutting Harry and Ron in the face as they pushed Hermione to the ground.

He dragged her up and continued to run, they barely ran for thirty more seconds before another explosion knocked Harry to the ground. The air was forced out of his lungs by the blow, his glasses falling from his face as ash rained on his skin and replaced the air in his lungs.

He gripped his wand and forced himself to stand searching for Ron and Hermione, but they were nowhere to be seen. “Aaaah!” He hissed out, clutching his side, the blast had sent him into a pile of rubble.

“Look what we have here gentleman” A chilling voice called out softly, “A lost little boy-who-lived, all alone”.

Harry looked towards the voice and felt panic flood his veins. Three men in dark, black and hooded robes seemed to part the ash in the air as they walked in front of him and stopped by an overturned cart. They had bone-white skull masks covering their faces, apart from their mouths and chins.

Harry lifted his wand slowly, the masked men responded similarly.

“What do you want? Who are you and why are you doing this?” At his question the tallest man has a slight confused twitch of his lips.

“You have no idea who we are boy?” Harry shook his head slowly as the three men let out angry noises.

“We boy” he practically spat “are the most faithful and loyal to our Lord, and tonight we remi-“

“CONFRINGO” screamed Harry, aiming at the cart next to them, interrupting the tirade.

The force of the blast and debris sent the men flying through the air, a jet of red light shot out of the night and collided with one of the bodies mid-air. Only one of the men stumbled back up, the leader who raised his wand and screamed “Avada-” before Harry and his rescuer’s spells hit him from two different angles and he collapsed to the floor.

Cedric Diggory ran into the clearing, wand out and keeping it focused on the men.

“Death Eaters? But- why now?” Cedric’s confusion was taken over by a determined look and he grabbed Harry by the shoulder, “We need to get you to safety, come on!”

He took off in a run dragging Harry behind him as they aimed for the woods, they passed a beautiful screaming French girl who was yelling for “Gabrielle”, but Cedric didn’t let Harry stop until they made it into the woods.

“The Death Eaters? What are they?” he asked as he tried to get his breath back.

“They’re followers of you-know-who, but they’ve not been active since just after you defeated him as a baby, I don’t see why they’ve appeared now” responded Cedric, wincing and massaging his leg whilst he leaned against a tree.

They carried on into the forest at a slower pace until they eventually found Ron and Hermione who pulled him into a hug and nodded at Cedric.

“I’m so sorry we got lost” said Hermione. “We ended up running into Malfoy- ” But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. The three boys looked too, they heard twigs crunching under the trod of someone’s feet. Then silence.

"Hello?" called out Harry, hesitantly.

There was silence. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision. Cedric raised his wand and stepped forward.

"Who's there?" he asked.

The response was one that sent a chill through them all, as a voice screamed out "Morsmorde!"

"What the -?" gasped Ron

A green bolt flew from the clearing to the sky, forming a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. It seemed to tear through the sky itself as it blazed in a haze of greenish smoke.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign! We need to go now!"

"Voldemort's sign?"

"Harry, come on!" Cedric called.

All four of them started to run further into the forest, when a  series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Ron, and Hermione.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, "DUCK!"

He seized the other two and pulled them down onto the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices and fiery red light flew over them from the different directions.

"Stop!" yelled a voice he recognized. "Stop! That's my son!"

Amos Diggory ran towards them, Arthur following him as forced their way past the wizards.

Mr Diggory pulled his son into a hug whilst Mr Weasley did the same to Ron, Harry and Hermione.

The comfort did not last long, as soon Mr Crouch had accused them of casting the Dark Mark. It had been tense and uncomfortable when they had discovered the man’s house elf, Winky, had supposedly cast the spell after stealing Ron’s wand during the match. The trio had all glared at Mr Diggory when he viciously verbally attacked the elf who was subsequently given clothes by Crouch. Harry hadn’t the chance to even thank Cedric before his father grabbed his shoulder and made them disappear with a crack.

“Come on you lot, let’s get you home” said Mr Weasley softly.

After reuniting with the other Weasley’s they took an emergency portkey home. Mrs Weasley had greeted them with long hugs and tears in her eyes before shooing them off to bed, her homemade clock had released a loud alarm as the majority of the spoons had suddenly shifted to ‘Mortal Peril’ and woke her.

As Harry lay in bed he couldn’t help but wonder if the French girl had managed to find who she was looking for.

And when he would get a chance to actually thank Cedric for saving him.

AN: Well I hope you enjoyed! Some dialogue is taken from Goblet of Fire as this chapter is really just there to establish an initial meeting between them all! I’m currently writing the next chapters for my other two fics so check them out if you fancy!

-Aegon Potter