Harry gave a particularly wolf-like smile. "Because Mr Moony, if Mr Padfoot wakes Mr Jack up again with his antics, then Mr Jack will provide some antics of his own."
Sirius grinned in return. "Little wizard thinks he's up to a prank war with the great Padfoot? Challenge accepted. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel I must go scout the territory so to speak." The former prisoner gave a little wave and disappeared into the crowd.
"Not that I doubt your ability, Harry, but that wasn't the best thing to do."
Harry grinned at the werewolf. "He was going to do it anyway, Remus. But now he is off 'scouting' and won't come back until he finds his partner for the night. That gives me plenty of time to prepare a proper welcome for them both and he'll be too drunk and distracted to think of looking when he comes back."
The older wizard looked at the just turned 14-year-old with a surprised smile. "You sure you're not in Slytherin?"
....
The Quidditch World Cup was awesome!
The players on both teams really put on a show for the crowd. The Bulgarian and Irish fans rattled the stands in their excitement as their teams battled for the Cup. Ireland winning but with Bulgaria's Seeker Krum catching the Snitch had the stands rocking with excited Irish and outraged Bulgarian fans. And Harry had a great view of the whole contest.
Sirius declined Fudge's offer of the Minister's Box and got seats almost directly opposite but much lower to the ground. In fact, the seats were directly behind the Bulgarian team's box. Sirius somehow got the attention of one of the Veela cheerleaders and spent most of his time flirting with the gorgeous woman. Harry doubted anyone sitting in his area except for him would ever remember much of the match. But Harry would remember it for the brilliant flying both teams displayed. As a Seeker himself, Harry concentrated on the tactics and skills the Seekers demonstrated promising he would develop those skills for use in his own matches.
The crowd filtered out of the stands still charged up from the match. For a championship match it hadn't run that long, only two hours. So the crowd had lots of energy left. The fairgrounds area outside the stands was filled with people eating and drinking in either celebration or in mourning. The three Marauders were joined by Sirius's new friend named Kalina. Since she still wore her cheerleading outfit the Veela was attracting a lot of attention hanging on Sirius's arm.
Harry wouldn't bet on which one was enjoying the attention more.
Eventually, the crowd wore itself out. Stomachs filled with rich food and even richer beer settled many of them right to sleep wherever they happened to be at the time. The rest of the crowd that was still on their feet were swaying in time to whatever music was in their heads. Most of them seemed to be following a not-quite-straight path to their tents.
"Harry, I am going to escort the beautiful Ms Kalina to her tent," Sirius started with the careful pronunciation of the completely potted. "I shall see you and Remus at our tent shortly." Harry glanced at his former professor that had drunk almost as much as his godfather.
"Sure, Sirius. I'll just send Dobby out later to drag you back after you pass out somewhere in a puddle." This drew a giggle out of Kalina. Either she hadn't drunk as much or Veela had a natural alcohol tolerance but she was the only one around besides Harry himself that wasn't totally drunk. Harry suspected Padfoot had met his match. Some of the things the woman had been whispering into the older Marauder's ear was making Padfoot blush!
"You're cute!" she proclaimed in a sexy eastern European accent. "Don't worry. I shall take good care of this one."
"That's what I'm afraid of." More giggles.
After the two swayed off together, Harry managed to get Moony up out of his chair.
....
Getting an inebriated werewolf through crowds of equally drunken revellers was not any easy task for a fourteen year-old - even one that was a werewolf-animagus.
The tent city that had grown around the Quidditch stadium was divided into 'villages'. One village was designated for Irish guests while another was set aside for the Bulgarian guests. There was also a village for families and another for the VIP's (i.e. high-society Purebloods and foreign dignitaries). Sirius refused to be with the 'stodgy matrons' or the 'poncy gits'. Their tent was dead in the centre of the 'general public' village. In general it was younger magicals without children and the working class of the magical world. The place was a madhouse of drunken revellers, screams, and laughter.
Harry got Remus squared away on his bed. The older wizard was out for the night. Harry wandered outside the tent and sat in a camp chair Dobby had provided for the Marauders. The party seemed to be winding down for the night. The noise level was way down as people started wandering off for bed; their own or someone else's. Harry was enjoying the anonymity of the crowd. No one realized the teen sitting outside the tent nursing a butterbeer was THE Harry Potter. They were too caught up in their own excitement and parties to pay that much attention to Harry.
There were only a dozen or so people in sight when it started. At first it was just an increase in the noise coming from another part of the campground. It took Harry several minutes to realize there was something about these screams.
These weren't the screams of laughter and parties he'd been hearing all night. These were screams of terror.
The revellers around Harry, the more sober ones at least, also recognized there was a problem. A few tried to Apparate away but found there were wards in place. This caused the first signs of panic in the area. Some tried to grab their drunken mates to flee on foot. Others tried to find hiding places inside the tents. One grizzled old wizard was physically throwing his friends into his tent two sites down and across the 'street'. He then stepped inside, gave Harry a small nod, and closed the tent flap. No sooner had the flap been zipped and the whole tent disappeared to be replaced by an old stump surrounded by some largish rocks.
Harry didn't have time to think about the old wizard's actions. Through the opening left by the disappeared tent, Harry saw flashes of light just a few rows over. Twenty seconds later a mob of screaming, panicked people came running down the village 'street'. Blinded by their panic and probable intoxication, the witches and wizards never even thought of defending themselves with their own wands. The only thought to get through their alcoholic haze was to run away.
Harry froze for a moment. Sirius was still out there and Remus was passed out in the tent. As an underage wizard Harry wasn't supposed to even be carrying his wand over the summer. Sirius said that was stupid and to keep it on him at all times. But only use it in an absolute emergency. That emergency was getting closer but it wasn't here yet.
Harry opened the tent door and left it looking like someone had run out in a panic. He knocked over the camp chairs and small table to add to the image. Finally, he placed his father's Cloak over the sleeping form of Remus Lupin.
Leaving the tent, Harry climbed up the small oak tree next to the tent. Dobby picked this site as the tree provided some shade to the tent. Now its leaves could serve a different purpose. While it lacked mobility options, it gave him good visibility and not a likely target for curses. It was also the best he could come up with in the time he had.
In any case, he didn't have to wait long before trouble arrived.
The tent across the street erupted in fire as three figures dressed in black robes with white masks approached. Several people ran screaming from the tent only to be met with curses and hexes. Then Harry saw the same green light he'd seen the year before in the memories brought out by the dementors.
The Death Eaters stopped in front of the tent.
"It looks like to Blood-traitor coward and the Potter brat ran but check inside," one man called out. "Kill anyone you find, then burn it down." They probably wouldn't find Remus under the Cloak but the fire certainly would.
One of the wizards entered the tent while the other two stood outside keeping watch and cursing any targets that presented themselves. Screams and explosions from other parts of the campground told Harry theses three weren't alone and help wouldn't be coming soon.
A fourteen year-old wizard dropped out of the tree and a werewolf landed in his place.
Harry took the first Death Eater out on his blind side. The werewolf's wickedly sharp claws easily sliced through cloth and skin to the soft flesh beneath. The man had no time to scream before the world went dark.
...
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