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Hermione and I went on our journey through the tent camp. The vendors of all kinds of goods were more active than ever, trying to sell almost air. They traded like it was the last time! In the end, of course, we couldn't resist buying some local fast food meat and Irish team badges. The bustle intensified with each passing hour but could not last forever - by sunset, the bustle of the wizards had turned into an oppressive silent tension.

When it got dark and the sun finally went down the horizon, people slowly began to pull towards the stadium, the top of which looked out from behind a small strip of forest. Hermione and I went to the tent to change into more decent-looking clothes, not just casual clothes. I wore my Percival Graves costume as planned, and Hermione flaunted a black closed gown with a rather puffy layered skirt, an equally black robe. She magically styled her naughty curls into a tall, wavy hairstyle. On the one hand, it was total chaos, but on the other, it was extremely orderly. ​​

"How do you like it?" Hermione spun around in the center of the living room.

"You look great."

"I'm glad."

"Why black?"

"Well, we go together, and you only prefer black. And my mother said that black is the perfect color and will suit any situation."

"Mrs. Granger is definitely right."

With the general crowd, we walked along the lighted road through the woods all the way to the stadium. Huge and tall, beautifully lit, as if composed of millions of beams, transverse and diagonal. It was impressive.

It was a little tight in the crowd, but not too much, and we made it safely to one of the entrances to the bleachers, where a ministerial official checked our tickets and let us in. We climbed the many stairs without any problems, but many wizards learned such a beautiful thing as shortness of breath.

Having practically climbed to the very top, just a couple of levels short of the highest open-air seats, we reached the ministerial lodge and the surrounding areas. In general, one differed from the other only in the fact that the lodge was fenced off for ministers and other important guests, but the seats themselves, the convenient, comfortable armchairs, were the same. At the entrance to the lodge, which adjoined the ministerial one, there was another inspector who checked our tickets, politely wished us a pleasant pastime, and let us in.

"What a view!" declared Hermione as she approached the fence.

The view was indeed gorgeous - an enormous, simply gigantic stadium with impossibly high bleachers, with tens of thousands of wizards of all kinds taking their seats. The lights on the ground and the pillars on the highest points of the stands were capturing absolutely every bit of field and airspace out of the darkness of the night. On a huge black board that hung in the air, every now and then flashed advertising of the current sponsors, of which I casually drew attention only to Gringotts and some broom company.

"Enjoying the view, young people?" a familiar voice forced Hermione and me to turn around.

"Lady Greengrass," I bowed politely, and Hermione gave a curtsy.

"I'm somewhat surprised, young people, that you were able to buy tickets in this loge."

"It's just that we bought them in advance."

"Very thoughtful."

Daphne and Astoria appeared from behind Lady Greengrass. While the latter glanced at us and greeted us with mild interest, Daphne showed her aversion to my person in every way possible, for which she even politely said hello to Hermione. The female team hurriedly took their seats. Astoria at first looked at this unexpected company for her sister with surprise but then smiled, smirked, and sat down next to me on the left. I ended up sitting between Hermione and Astoria, and Daphne was pulling my friend's attention. Lady Greengrass sat behind us, and a little later, her husband Henry joined her. An average man. Average in everything. I had seen his photographs, so I recognized him at once, though we had not been introduced.

Gradually our loge filled with wizards of different ages, and Astoria was joined by a friend, probably a classmate. Looking at young Greengrass led me to the conclusion that black hair with the same face type as Daphne and Delphine was more ... pretty, perhaps? More lively, yes.

"...you'll be the first to know!"

I wasn't the only one who heard Malfoy's so familiar mocking voice. Almost everyone turned around slightly to look at the entrance to the ministerial box. Draco Malfoy was standing there, looking up at the upper bleachers and grinning. Nearby stood Narcissa with a look of arrogance and disdain for everyone around him. Already about to pass to the seats closest to the ministers, Malfoy noticed us, clearly wanted to speak out, but changed his mind, walking away in silence.

"He's funny," I said casually.

" He is who he is," Astoria shrugged. "Malfoy is the only power pole in our House, so everyone tries to hang around him in one way or another."

"Isn't there any opposition?"

"Opposition?" smiled the girl. "There are no children from families in the House right now that can counter something to the Malfoy financial machine and their influence. At the expense of the same finances. Better to be on good terms with a fool than to antagonize him. Now that Draco is in charge of the family, there will be even more different people hanging around him, trying to please. Before, various sycophants could be intimidated by the name Lucius Malfoy, but now..."

"What candor."

"I overheard about your little conflict with Daphne. I just don't want you to think too badly of her."

"Do you really care that much about some Gryffindor's opinion?"

Astoria smiled back as if she knew much, much more than she was saying, and now you sit there guessing exactly what she knew.