Participants:
| Scene Title | Terror At The Cup |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The Quidditch All Star Cup kicks off with the North American League taking an early lead. Unfortunately the game doesn't complete as it's interrupted by a wanted criminal. |
| Date | Jul 12, 1994 |
| Watch For | Craziness! |
| Chronology | NA |
| Logger | Harry |
Nestled in the quiet highlands of Scotland, Loch Langley has been set up for the upcoming All Star Cup match. The large stadium can easily expand to accommodate a large turnout. At each end of the pitch, behind the scoring hoops, fly the flags of each team of each member of the game. The North American League flags seem to be short by a few flags versus the British League flags.
Outside the stadium, booths and tables set up for various vendors are in places with pitches and loud booming voices echoing across the large area. There are a few tents scattered along the outside, but are clearly for non-camping purposes. Such as the Ministry tent, and the St Mungo's First Responder tent.
It's a bright, sunny day in the highlands of Scotland and here on Loch Langley. Perfect Quidditch weather. After posting record ticket sales, surpassing those of the World Cup, the stadium itself has started to fill up quickly. From inside the stadium, and echoing out into the vendor area, a loud voice calls out. "The game is about to start! Please find your way to the stadium and your seat quickly. We have quite the match planned today." Must be the voice of the announcer. Through one of the three gates, people can be seen showing their tickets to the robed person standing by each gate.
Xiomara Hooch, ticket held firmly in hand, makes her way past the ticket-taker, and into the stands. The Hogwarts flying instructor is dressed this day in her traditional black-and-silver robes, and carries a pair of omnioculars around her neck. Her gloves, and wand, are tucked neatly into her belt, and on the top of her head are a pair of riding goggles. Her hair is mussed, as if she just flew in from somewhere, for the flying instructor is not known to miss a chance to use her broom, and Loch Langley is not so far that a quick disillusionment charm would go amiss for her to fly in for the match. Her broom, of course, is safely parked in her tent, set up near the edge of the field. On her face is a keen look of anticipation, as if she's genuinely looking forward to the treat that is going to be happening today. Once in her seat, she opens her programme and begins reading, glancing up at the pitch now and again while she awaits the arrival of the teams and referee.
There's nothing like a beautiful day, beautiful company and a good game to make Jack Noble extremely happy. So, he's chattering on to Reverie St. Croix as they walk up to the ticket line. The chatter's mostly about the teams and the players' individual statistics. "Well, their Seeker didn't do so well last year, so I'm wondering why they kept him…" They get closer to the front of the line, and Jack smiles at the wizard collecting tickets at their gate. "Hello, sir…" He fishes into his pocket. "Here you go. Two tickets." Slightly rumpled. "After you, milady." He gestures for Reverie to proceed him. "These are pretty good seats. Not nosebleed, but they're decent enough… Don't have to crane your neck to see the goals." He continues to chatter as he walks with Reverie to their seats.
Silvester is here with his family. Sort of. At least his wife is seated with his sons, while he's been put to work assisting other Ministry employees with the event. Basically, he's just been given busy work, which he's capable of handling. Even if he's a bit cracked in the head the majority of the time. This event is important enough to keep him mentally grounded and his eyes peeled for anything funny going on.
With the crowd and the excitement, it would be hard to imagine a better place to be. Hermione, always punctual - early even - is already seated somewhere in the stands about mid-level with Harry. "Look at all the people!" Even if she knew this was going to be a huge event, seeing everyone here is just boggling. "There are witches and wizards from all over the world here! I wonder if spellcasting changes depending on your language or if it's the same for everyone. Do you think someone would be offended if I asked them?" She asks Harry, curiously.
"Well, he's handsome and has a serious fan base amongst tweens and up. Heck even I think he's cute.." Reverie replies asshe walks alongside Jack, giggling impishly the entire time. She curtsies before the ticket collector before peering back towards her 'date' of sorts. "Why thank you!" she chirps as she heads on in and waits for him to go through before headings on in. "You know, even if we were in the nosebleed I think I'd be okay. There's good food and pleasant company, what more can a girl ask for?"
Cullen is prompt, the boy arriving, having managed to wander out of his tent and in the correct direction. He clasps tickets in hand, holds them out when he draws near enough to the takers. He handles the transaction for the girl beside as well, offering smile down at one Cho Chang before shuffling into the stadium, "Look at this mess," He mumbles, arm nudging, eyes arcing off across the stadium. "How do they hide all this? It's ridiculous." In he goes, tucking hands together, pushing through crowds to find designated seat.
Standing watching the lines at the moment is a brooding looking old man. With a fat, butterbeer belly. He's watching the tickets being exchanged with a scrutinizing look. That's it, nothing shifty going on you people as you go in. A few people are asked to stop after their tickets are handed over, before being allowed to carry on. Ahh, Quidditch security, go fig.
"Magic, silly.." Cho quips, letting out a soft and impish giggle. Her arm is hooked with his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she lets herself be lead towards the seats. "I'm glad baba and your grandpa are getting along. They both seem to like exchanging stories. Hopefully that'll keep 'em busy for a while, yeah?"
Luna, and her father, Xenophilius, needed no portkey to come to the match today. Because they used it a week ago. The Lovegood tent was a bit obvious. At the corner edge of the vendor area, a purple and orange tent was set up, banners marked with an odd symbol flapping gaily in the wind. Likewise, they had arrived at their seats far too early than was reasonable, having spent the past few hours in the stands already, chit-chattering amongst themselves. Their seats, however, were right smack dab in the middle of things. Not too high, and not too low.
"Holly, what are you *doing?*" a voice hisses from inside the tunnel, as Holly Wright, one of three Wright sisters on the North American League team pokes her nose out to see what's going on out there. "Get back in here!" a second voice, and two pairs of hands drag the Haileybury Hammers Chaser back inside, to her obvious protest.
"Probably." Harry grins, as he settles in his seat beside Hermione. The light breeze ruffles his already unruly hair, and a hand tries to smooth it out. "Maybe you'll get a chance to ask them. I hear there's supposed to be autograph signing after the game." he adds, looking around at the crowd with green eyes. "Quite a turnout. I wonder who else is here from school?"
The very loud suggestion regarding the location of seating causes a few people here and there to wince, one of them being a middle-aged man in the middle of purchasing a souvenir for his daughter. "Keep the change," Edwin mutters a little testily, stuffing the item - a poster - into a deep pocket of his coat. He turns and heads for the stadium, handing over his ticket and making the game workers repeat directions to his seat twice just to be certain of its location. Who knows who he'll be sitting near. Hopefully they'll be interesting.
What more indeed? Jack chuckles. "Oh…" Now the truth comes out. "So, do you support them just because they're seeker's a looker, then?" He teases Reverie as he gestures for her to sit down. "You want something from the trinket cart? They've got programs and rosettes and all sorts of stuff…" He's already wearing the appropriate color scarf and carrying a pendant. The good company comment makes him grin cheekily. "Why, thank you, Ms. St. Croix." He gives her a silly flourish. "Man. This place is packed. Everybody and their kneazle are here today." Just as he says that, an old man walks by, yes, carrying his small kneazle. "See?"
Silvester patrols the throng of incoming Quidditch devotees, even directing people who look lost to their seats. It's a little like the blind leading the blind, except he does have a few maps on hand for those who need them. (Him included.)
Inconspicuous and blending with the crowd of spectators are various Ministry officials. Hit wizards, Aurors, other representatives of the law enforcement branch. With an international event like this, security has been stepped up.
"Loads of people, I'm sure." Hermione is utterly confident in that. "You know how almost everyone is about Quidditch. It's like how my dad's friends get about rugby." Looking around, and down, she frowns and asks worriedly. "Where did Ron go? Shouldn't he be back by now?" Leaning over in her seat and then leaning back, she possibly thinks she may be able to spot the red-haired boy from where she's sitting. "If he's gotten lost, we'll never be able to find him in the crowd."
"Well, I suppose we can get something as long as you let me pay for it.." the good mediwitch replies as she wrinkles her nose and wears the appropriate color as well, grinning wryly the entire time. She hrmms for a few moments as she looks over the trinkets and spies the programs and a few enchanted bobblehead type figurines. "Let's go for that one. He's a looker after all.." Reverie quips with a wry grin towards Jack. "And I'm sure you support some teams for their good looking female players as well.."
A few people actually go through that catches the fat man's eye. He makes a note to actually be in their vicinity after a while. A couple of people come by, and there's a silent exchange, mainly done with looks, before the man turns and begins marching with the flow of traffic as it were. It's crowded, and then there's some shoving. However it started, it ends, and the unimpressive fat man's no where to be seen. Instead, a tall, willowy witch is now making her way into the stadiums, glancing around her immediate area.
The St. Claire family is here for the All-Star Cup as well, at the request of Stephen. His love of Quidditch keeps the family visible at many of the Quidditch matches held in the U.K. "Well. If ah'd known that it was goin'ta be here in the Highlands, we could have just taken our brooms.", Lance St. Claire remarks. "Security, Father.", Stephen says politely, his first act to stick his head out of the box to see exactly how far they are off of the ground level. "I'll be back in a minute or two. Mother. Father.", he continues as Xenophilius and Luna Lovegood catch his attention. He makes his way over to Luna through the throng.
Cullen nudges here and there, forces path through the crowd until he reaches what must be his seat. He motions to the girl beside him, plopping down and bending to examine the crowds and field below. "S'till pretty big," The boy mentions, "I can't remember ever seeing something like this." He ignores vendors for the most part, just smiles and scoots aside when people need to shuffle past, "They'll be okay," He mentions of the two adults, "I hope."
Luna Lovegood looks up from where she sits as the middle-aged man finds a sit near her own. While her father was interested in the event, staring out over the grounds with a fascination that bordered on… well, a lot, Luna herself lifts her chin to look up towards Edwin, a wide, smile touching her lips. Friendly, perhaps, but it also had a dreamy quality to it, as if Luna were smiling at something else, far away. "What an exciting day, isn't it?" she asks, her voice bearing the same faraway quality as her smile. Stephen's approach through the crowds wasn't quite noticed yet by her.
Out on the center of the pitch field, a rather rotund man appears out of nowhere, long gray hair flowing in the breeze. Touching his wand to his throat, he starts to speak, his voice amplies so as to be heard all around. "Welcome wizards, and witches. My name is Fisher Argyle and I'm the Scottish Liason to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Games and Sports. We're glad you all could attend. So without further ado, let's get the show on the road. Our referee for the match will be none other than the well known Balthazar Kittison. I'm sure many of you know his passion for fair play. And following him onto the pitch, the British League!"
As the man says that, out from behind the curtains at one end of the pitch come the British team. Sporting various jerseys of Puddlemere United, Appleby Arrows, and the Chudley Cannons to name a few. "Lead by Finbar Quigly of the Ballycastle Bats!" Fisher adds.
"Well, it does only happen every four years or so.." Cho quips as she looks around and spies a few familiar faces. "Luna!" she calls out beaming brightly while offering the third year a wave. There's a bit of a frown as she sees Stephen, but she doesn’t grump since it's the cup anyway. Her attention goes back to her companion as she leans against Cullen oohing and aahing as the announcements are made. "Ooooh, they're going to start soon! And I'm sure they'll be fine, Cullen..they're both grown men after all.."
Having finished reading the program, Hooch turns her attention to the crowd, picking out the occasional Hogwarts student here and there, but she remains where she is, speaking briefly with the wizard next to her, but her attention returns to the pitch immediately as the teams begin to appear.
Sitting with the St. Claire's, Bertrum and his Aunt Dahlia are quite happy to be in the company of the boy's best friend and his family. But when Stephen rises, Bertie excuses himself as well, trailing after his housemate with a quizzical yet intrigued sort of expression. "They're just getting started, Stephen," he worries at the other boy. "Where could you possibly be off to?"
"Of course!" Jack is not ashamed to admit it. However, he does add, "It doesn't compare, though, with the presence of a beautiful lady beside me." He grins, knowing the teasing is mainly good-natured. "If I must…" Let her pay for her own stuff. "If you'll let me get us a few snacks to share." He listens to the announcement of the players. "Here we go!" Leaning back in his seat, he awaits the beginning of the game.
It's entirely possible that Edwin is part of that extra security detail, but it's not as though he'd actually admit it if it were true. Which it's totally not (except that it probably is). But who is he to complain about free tickets to a Quidditch match of this magnitude? He steps in towards his assigned seating with a quiet mumble to apologize to those people between himself and the chair, only to be confronted with… a child. "Most people are here because it's an exciting day." Sitting next to the Lovegoods can only mean good times.
Harry turns his gaze to glance towards the stairs up to where he and Hermione are seated. The empty seat next to him lays claimed for their friend, apparently absent at the moment. "He said something about chocolate frogs and trading cards." Harry says, shaking his head as the players emerge. "And of course he's going to miss the entrance of one of the players on his favorite team."
"All right, that's fair enough.." Reverie quips, handing the couple of galleons before she settles down next to Jack, her cheeks flushed a bright tinge as she eases on down next to him. "Ooooh, exciting! You know, I originally wanted be a mediwitch so I could heal and hang out with Quidditch players.." she confesses, giggling softly in the end.
Stephen turns back towards Bertrum. "It's Luna Lovegood.", he says, a faint trace of a smile crossing his lips as he says her name. "Just doing the polite thing and saying hello. Come on. We'll be back before the action starts.", he says, making his way a little bit more forcefully through the crowd.
Luna's eyes blink slowly, hearing her name amidst the noise of the crowd. Blinking, she manages to spot Cho amidst the sea of people, and brings up her fingers in a little wave towards her, her smile sparking a bit brighter for a moment. She pauses, then turns her attention towards Edwin again. "Father says that the North American team changed out their chaser at the last minute, for a shaved yeti. They are a very popular animal over there." she says, her eyes flickering towards the back of Stephen's head as he steps away, her features serene.
Cullen makes a small shrug at his partner, offering warm smile toward Cho before eyes flicker back toward the field. "We'll see," He offers, "I'm sure they'll bore each other to death by the time this is over." There's a tiny laugh that escapes his lips, fingers folding together in his lap. "Who are we hoping will win?" Head arcs toward the field, falling silent when he can catch speech from the official below.
The willowy witch pauses for a moment, something catching her attention. It doesn't take long to get to the pair of seats. "You kids finding everything alright?" the Auror asks of Harry and Hermione. Even right now she can't help but linger a look on Harry, but she doesn't make a show out of it. She's focused her attention on other things—and she wouldn't have even come over if it wasn't so she can let Sirius know that Harry looks alright.
So far, so good, things are going smoothly and running on schedule. No funny business about, and Silvester has his hands up and gripping his lapels, walking about with a pompous look upon his face as he does so. He's even forgotten to pass out leaflets and stadium maps. But at least he's alert and watching the crowds!
"And their opposition…" Fisher grins, still holding the wand to his throat, "…the North American League! Captained by Charles Derile of the Fitchburg Finches!" As he speaks, the players of that team come out of the opposing curtain, with the two beaters shooting straight up in acrobatic showoffs. "Some might be interested to know that The North America League is home to the Wright triplets. The only triplets in professional Quidditch to play the same positions on the same team."
Bertie's eyes go wide at the mention of the Ravenclaw's name, but he doesn't make any remark regarding the girl. Not even he knows what Stephen sees in her, but he can't really protest given his own designs. "You could always wait-" he starts, cut off for a moment by a large witch who wedges her way between them momentarily, "…until there is a lull."
"Well Britain of course. There's someone from the Tutshill Tornados on the team! Me, I just want to watch and seekers and see if I can copy their moves. Maybe we'll beat Gryffindor this year.." Cho replies, beaming the entire time as her eyes light up with excitement as she bumps up against Cullen's shoulder oncemore. She crosses her legs to get a tad bit more comfortable as she runs her fingers through her hair. She's dressed up with a Tutshill Tornado's pin and a scarf with their colors afterall. She's a definitely fangirl.
It's then that she spies Bertrum and Stephen together. Oye. Pretend they arent there, it will be less awkward.
"But…he'll miss everything!" Hermione is distressed about that. She knows how much Ron loves Quidditch. Not to mention how he'll complain about it all year if he misses it. "Oh!" Seeing Tonks approach them, she nods her head. "We're fine. Just…trying to find our friend." Half heartedly she waves one of the flags she purchased when the British League makes their appearance. Do you think we should go look for him?" Always a worrywort, this one is.
The truth comes out. "Oh-ho! You're kidding me!" Jack chuckles to himself. "So, what do you think about those Wight triplets, then?" He doesn't specify whether he's talking about their Chaser skill, or something else entirely. "You know, I've heard some interesting rumors about the rules of American Quidditch. Never gotten to investigate that, though."
As the players make their way onto the pitch, they are soon followed by the referee. Balthazar Kittson does not stride; he lopes. His massive frame almost dwarfs his black-painted Firebolt as the referee half-jogs out onto the field, a huge grin splitting his dark-skinned face. The Firebolt, carried over his shoulder, appears to have a fresh coat of paint on it, as it's labeled 'Quidditch All-Star Classic' on both sides of the shaft in gleaming silvery letters that sparkle in the sunlight. "It's a clean game I'll be having," the 6'3" referee declares to both teams, "and I'll not be takin' any nonsense." His expression is impassive, firm, and he looks each of the players in the eye in turn as he speaks. "You argue my calls, and you're out. Got it?" he asks, not looking for a response. His accent and appearance hold a touch of the Caribbean islands in them, and he mounts his broom, Quaffle under his arm. "Then mount up!"
Reverie's cheeks flush a bright tinge of red at the teasing as she sticks her tongue out towards Jack and lets out a slight harumph. "I'm more of a Balthazar Kittson fan.." she admits ruefully before snickering softly as she cants her head. "What have you heard? I don’t exactly follow the American League..I just sort of look at their pictures..nothing more nothing less.."
Stephen approaches Luna and gives her a most charming smile. "Hello, Luna…", he says, turning back towards Bertie and clapping him on the shoulder. "Just wait until you see Antigone here, Bertie. You wouldn't wait for a lull. Come on! It's starting!", he says excitedly, turning back to offer Luna one last smile before the two rush off to the St. Claire box. Stephen notices Cho Chang on his way back and flashes her a mirthful grin.
Being told that a famous athlete is actually a yeti gives Edwin a moment of pause, enough to make his final seating awkward. "Really," he says rather lamely, trying not to encourage the clear insanity of the blonde girl but finding no polite way to end the conversation. "How fascinating." And then there's action down on the field and Edwin takes the opportunity to lean forward, squinting at the pitch. Time to pay attention to the game - or more accurately the people seated in the rows beneath his own.
Harry looks from the stairs to the witch that comes over to them. "Uh, yeah. We're just waiting on our friend to come back from getting snacks." he says, glancing at Hermione. "I'll bet he just got distracted by some person pitching the latest and greatest product and forgot. I imagine he'll be along. Did you hear that? The only triplets in the pros to play on the same team!" Surely that had to have garnished some attention. She likes interesting tidbits of knowledge like that, right?
The triplets, identical in appearance in their Haileybury Hammers attire, mouse-brown hair tied back in identical ponytails, are distinguishable one from another only by their numbers and the initial before their names stitched to the backs of their jerseys. H, J, and B. Three identical smiles, and at the referee's word, the triplets hop onto their brooms in practiced unison and wait for the game to begin.
Credit must be given where credit is due. That was quick. The speed in addition to the mention of Antigone throws him off balance, and Bertie is only able to give a quick smile and half-hearted wave to the Lovegoods before he has to rush after Stephen again or be lost in the crowd. "I still don't see why that couldn't have waited!" he calls out over the noises of mulling and cheering folk alike. Seeing Cho, Bertie blinks, then attempts a strained and awkward smile. She's Antigone's friend, after all, and he's therefore unable to harbor the same dislike for her as Stephen does. …but maybe that just means Stephen has to work double-time to make up for it.
"Well, make sure he stays put when he gets there," Tonks-in-Disguise tells the pair. "It's really easy to get lost." Both Hermione and Harry get a smile, showing off her crooked teeth, before she ambles off. She tosses a look over her shoulder, discretely before she again disappears into the crowd in order to find a good vantage point to watch things.
"That's just it. Nobody will say. They just say those Yanks play weird, and stop it at that. I think it has something to do with letting the snitch out late, or something. I'm not sure. Or forced breaks…" Jack shrugs. "It's not quidditch if you get to stop in the middle… well, before the day finishes, anyway." He grins, and glances around him to where a young witch patrols with a box of snacks. Jack buys a few, and hands some to Reverie. "There ya go, lass." He winks, and returns his attention to the game, tearing open the small parcel of sweets in his hand.
At Balthazar's command, both teams indeed 'mount up' onto their brooms and set off into position. Both Keepers position themselves near their prized hoops, as the beaters begin to circle the pitch. The Seekers, hovering near the Chasers, wait for the release of the snitch. As the players do their thing, Fisher exits the fields, stage right to head for his skybox.
Antigone shouldn't be too hard to be spotted, really, dressed in her usual style with a flare for bright colours. She wends her way through the crowds, trying to make it back to the family seats before she can miss too much. She carries with her a small paper bag from one of the vendors, nearly dropping it as she's bumped into by a large, enthusiastic fan. Stumbling just a bit, she manages to catch her balance after only a few steps, and then flashes an apologetic and sheepish grin to the man, before continuing along her way. "Pardon me, please…"
"Well, people do get tired I imagine.." Reverie replies as she runs her fingers through her hair looking out towards the triplets before her attention turns back to her companion. At the offered snack, she ooohs and reaches in, popping a few into her mouth. "Why thank you, kind sir. I've always depended on the kindness of strangers.." she says in a faux Southern accent.
"You can point out who I'm supposed to cheer for." Cullen's voice carries a clear humor to it, eyes squinting to examine the field once again. He doesn't mind Cho at his shoulder, merely making small glance to the girl, questioning, "How bad do you think we'll beat them?" Fingers tick in his lap, head rising to glance at the few people Cho does. He makes nod along with her, hand rising to greeters before attention returns to the field.
"It is rather fascinating." Luna says, drawing a breath to say something further, when a tap upon her shoulder draws her attention again towards Stephen as he approaches. "Hello, ah…" she says, bringing up a hand to rub at the side of her neck. But off he went again, after the two smiles. "I think I have seen him somewhere before. He seemed rather friendly." A pause, and she turns her attention back up towards Edwin, continuing on as if there were no interruption. "But it is a competitive game. Quidditch is filled with little hints to the game behind the game, if one only looks…" she says. But seeing as the game was starting, her attention soon wanders off that way.
With a flick-and-swish movement directed at the ball-box, Kittson releases the Bludgers, sending them careening off into the sky, quickly and nearly-invisibly followed by the Golden Snitch. And with a shrill tweeeeet! on his whistle, he flings the Quaffle high into the air amongst the Chasers, flying backwards to get out of the way of the six sets of hands reaching for the red rubber ball.
Normally, Hermione would like tidbits of fact like that. "Yes, that's very interesting Harry," she says to placate him, but her forehead is creased as she only half pays attention to the match. "Ron get distracted from Quidditch? I don't know." Maybe she should just stop worrying and try and enjoy herself, but that would go against her nature. "We will, thank you," she tells the Auror. Standing up, she has that determined look on her face. "I'm just going down to the concession stand to make sure he didn't get lost and really is just chatting with another fanatic. I'll be right back." Because she just can't enjoy herself if she keeps thinking that Ron may be lost and trampled under the feet of everyone.
There's the mirthful look from Stephen. Cho takes a deep breath resisting the urge to pummel something before she wriggles her fingers in Bertie's direction. That's when she starts looking around for the female Hufflepuff, oooh, there will be some teasing for sure. And there she is. "Antiiiiigone!" she calls out before winking towards the girl as she blatantly motions towards Bertrum. "You guys should sit together!" she chirps merrily before her attention is back to her beau.
"Okay..so cheer when I cheer..I should've brought my extra pendants so you'd be more..Quidditchy.." she admits ruefully as she takes off her pendant and tries to place it on his shirt, if he'll let her that is. "And I say…by 150 points..to be exciting and all.."
And the ball is quickly snatched up by one of the triplets, who calls to the other two, "Holly - Left! Jennie - Right!" and streaks up the middle of the pitch, "Three, seventeen!" calling the play and flinging the ball across herself to Holly on her left while looking at Jennie. A catch, a pass, from Holly underneath play to Jennie, and so the three race down the pitch, "Two! Eighty-five!" is Brenda's call, and Jennie fakes a pass to her, and then shoots, flinging the Quaffle hard towards the left-side goal!
Jack chuckles and sneakily stretches an arm around Reverie as he grabs another sweet from the parcel. He removes it fairly quickly to lean forward when the Quaffle nears the goal. "Watch out! it's headed …" It's too fast for him to do much more than that, so he whistles loudly, hoping the Keeper's on his toes.
And there goes the quaffle! All three Chasers on the British team reach to grab for it, but are denied! Seems the North American Beaters had one ready for them, ensuring the quaffle falls to them. As the chase starts, the British Keeper watches intently. "Not on my watch!" he shouts, shooting his broom up to try and catch the red ball before it passes through the hoops. But…he's a second to short and…
*DING* "Ten points to the North American League!" the announcer echoes!
Oh, she's use to the sneaky arm around the shoulders routine. Reverie's brows raise as she decides to cut the guy a break as she lets out an impish giggle before her eyes widen. "NOOOOOOO!" she cries out as the Americans are the first to score. "Well..it's only one goal..not too bad, right?" she says while peering towards Jack before deciding to nestle against him, getting a tad bit more comfortable. Awww.
It takes a moment for Cho's calling out to her to sink into Antigone's subconscious, since she's busy trying not to break her neck or get stepped on. But sink in it does, and Tig looks over that way, about to reply when the reaction from the crowd makes that a little harder to do. She waves, and takes advantage of the momentary pause in the action to deftly slip between the rows and bring herself to the group of students. Her eyebrows have gone up a little as she caught Cho's gesture, but she opts not to actually respond to that, instead offering everyone a friendly grin. "Oh, you all made it, I see!" she enthuses.
Tonks finds a perch where she can 1) Keep an eye on harry for Sirius' benefit 2) Get a /good/ look at the game because OMGQUIDDITCH AND SHE'S WORKING D: and 3) a nice wide arc that she can take in a large part of this section with a sweeping glance. She's still in her Willowy-Witch-With-Bad-Teeth guise. "D'awww," is her comment when the North Americans score.
Cullen makes appropriately disappointed face at the figures that buzz across the air below, tongue poking out just a moment. He doesn't seem to mind an extra ornament, hand patting at Cho's shoulder after she's finished decorating him. "Thanks," He chimes. Cho's spotting of fellow Hufflepuff causes the boy to raise hand in wave at Antigone, gesture that's quickly abated by jostling of people in the row above.
Hooch applauds politely from her seat, though it's just out of sheer politeness; those near her can hear her muttered "damn," under her breath as she watches the game.
Just because Silvester looks a little vacant, this doesn't mean he's still not paying attention. In fact, all Ministry officials on duty at this event are keeping alert. As of yet, no one's been so paranoid as to become twitchy and frighten people. Although, people lingering too long in areas that are not their seats do get second looks.
"I'm sure he's fine, Hermione." Harry says, rolling his eyes briefly. But, he's not going to stop her. Nope. That would be like throwing himself in front of the Hogwarts Express. As the visiting team scores, he groans. "Off to a bad start already. Maybe I should come with you."
"Glad to see you could come out too!" Cho chirps before she awwws, groaning a little and throwing her arms up in exasperation at the scored goal. She wrinkles her nose and leans against Cullen, "Okay, so be sad when the Americans score and be happy when we score and you should fit right in.." she quips before looking back over towards the other Hufflepuff. "Where's your folks?"
Obviously, Jack doesn't mind Reverie snuggling close. He draws his arm around her shoulders and smiles at her. "Yeah. But sometimes, the first goal can help set the tone for the whole things. Which doesn't bode well for England." He frowns a small frown and watches them play. "Well, did you see how fast those chasers are? I hope our beaters can throw them off their game. One of 'em's pretty good. Got the record for most players knocked off…" He stops, realizing the mediwitch probably does not want to hear about intentional injuries. "Well, he's good at what he does."
Oh ho ho, from the vantage, Tonks can see her classmate getting snuggly. She makes a point to tease her friend later about it—probably at the same time she tells her about her 'uh oops'.
"The first goal does set the momentum of the game, and hopefully they'll find a way to shift it.." Reverie replies peering down towards the pitch as she hrmms and purses her lips. "They're ridiculously fast, are they using Firebolts as well or is there an American brand that's faster?" she asks curiously, her brows furrowed before nodding in agreement before she eases on up and yells with great gusto. "Kick their bloody arses!" she cries out towards the beaters. "You moooooove slow! You need to go faster!" and she soon sits down, shifting her skirt just a bit before she winks towards Jack. "Didnt think I'd do that huh.."
Glancing between the pitch and then Harry, Hermione replies, "Only if you want to." Because she knows how he is about Quidditch, too. "I just can't imagine what would be keeping him." Frustrated, she frowns and then looks back. "You can stay here and enjoy the match. I just want to take a look for myself."
The British Keeper fields the Quaffle and returns to the front of his hoops. "Make it count, you three!" he shouts, as he passes the ball to his teammates. Hillary Quimbly of the Holyhead Harpies catches it and the three take off for the far end of the pitch. Daring zigs and zags ensue, as she pushes her broomstick as fast as it will go. "TAKE THE SHOT!" Barnaby cries, as Hillary launches the ball towards the lower left hoop which appears unguarded. Not so! As the Finches Keeper zips in from above to knock the Quaffle back to his own Chasers.
Eyes flicking back and forth over the pitch, Kittson watches carefully to ensure that no fouls are committed, and ducks as the Bludger sails past his head.
Stephen notices Antigone weaving her way through the crowd, and nudges Bertrum towards the St. Claire box. "Go ahead, I'll be right there.", he says. "Bathroom.", he adds with a wink and begins making his way towards Antigone, Cho, and Cullen once Bertrum goes. Once he gets to where they are. "Tig.", he says politely, his gaze turning to Cho. "Miss Chang.", he adds, perhaps a slight emphasis to it that Cho would probably notice. The others? Maybe not over the action. He looks at Cullen momentarily before turning back to Antigone. "My family has a box close to the action, and Bertie and his aunt are with us. Would you like to join us? I'm sure he'd love to have you with.", he says.
"Damn." Jack says, with a growl. "No, I didn't. But I don't mind one bit…" This day is just getting more and more enjoyable, well, except for the scoreboard. But he's having fun anyway. "I'm not sure. I think they are Firebolts. If they're not, they're the American equivalent." He isn't up on American brooms. He ought to be, but didn't see the need when he was there. "I've only been there twice. Once to Louisiana, and once to some place in the north… Montana, I think it was?" He tries to remember. "Didn't stay too long either time. Was summer the first time, and so, too bloody hot. The second time, of course it was winter, and nearly froze my arse off." He snorts. "Next time, I'll go somewhere in the middle, in spring." As if he gets a say in when he'll be needed.
Reverie is a feisty one, and considering she's as much of a sports fan as most others, that side occasionally comes out. She grins wryly as she waggles her brows and bumps her shoulder against Jack. "Did you like it?" she asks, snickering softly in the end. "But yeah, it's probably the American equivalent…but their chasers are incredibly fast. I cant even see where the seekers are right now.."
Leaning forward some in her seat, Luna's eyes squint out at the field. Drawing a quill from her coat pocket, she nudges her father, then spends a few moments in quiet, if rapid conversation with him, pointing towards one of the seekers with her quill. Jotting a note down, she passes that along to her father, before tucking the quill back into her robes.
"My mother's up there with my sisters," Antigone explains, gesturing vaguely towards … some general spot over there, which brings a frown as she can't quite spot them. "Father couldn't make it." There's a faint smile with that as she turns back to the group. "Would anyone care for some sweets? I was off fetching snacks when it started," she explains, lifting the hand that carries the little bag, though she lowers it as Stephen makes his appearance. "Oh, uh…" She pauses to glance over at Cho with a look part warning, part pleading, even if she knows it's probably in vain. "Yeah, all right, if you're sure your family won't mind. I … don't know that I could find mine again until it gets quieter anyway." No sense worrying about it in the meantime!
This time, it's Jenny who ends up with the red ball, and she tucks it under her arm, diving down near the pitch floor to avoid the Bludgers and the British chaser who's trying to steal the Quaffle from her. She flips it backhanded to Holly, who catches it one-handed and zings it, under her broom, across to Brenda, who climbs upwards quickly followed by the other two. Chasers playing chase, the American trip head back down the pitch towards the British goal, and Brenda fakes a shot, passes to Holly, who passes to Jenny, who is the one to take the shot, this time at the center goal.
"Why…we'd love to join you!" There's an almost wicked grin on Cho's lips as she peers over to Cullen as she bumps her shoulder against his. "That is, if you dont mind?" she asks curiously with raised brows before stretching her arms into the air. Her eyes glance back towards Antigone, the utter look of innocense on her features. Oh, this will be fun.
Cullen's eyes rise up toward Stephen when the boy approaches, head canting to catch words over the noise. When he's given merely a glance there's just a small raise of brows, crooked sort of smile as eyes flicker over the other youth. Whatever interest passes soon enough, hand reaching out to wag fingers at Antigone, universal gestures of 'gimme, gimme'. The jostling by Cho makes him halt, eyes slanting over at her, complaint of, "Oy." He does, however, make nod of assent. "Alright, sure."
Harry glances between the pitch and Hermione. As Britain is denied their shot, he shakes his head. "It looks like it's not going well. Maybe when we come back it will be going better." he says, standing up from his seat as well. "Besides, I could use a soda or something myself."
It's not as if Bertrum has much of a choice when Stephen leaves him, as he is half-propelled by the crowd to keep moving. Safely tucked back into the box once more, though more than a bit ruffled, he explains Stephen's delay to his family with the fewest number of words he can before settling his attention back on the action, his eyes glued on the Quaffle as it is passed from player to player, slowly grinning as the prediction for the play comes clearer and clearer.
Jack whistles again, expressing his displeasure at the Americans getting the quaffle so quickly. "C'mon! Speed up, Britain," he bellows, shaking his head a little. "If they don't break that rhythm, it's over with or without the snitch. One hundred fifty points can only go so far…" He's seen games like that.
Down the steps Hermione goes, quick to weave through the crowd of those still finding seats and those heading in the same direction. As she goes, she keeps her eyes peeled for familiar faces, especially a certain red-haired Weasley. "The line looks monstrous," Hermione tells Harry. "The match'll be over by the time you get anything." However, that doesn't stop the bushy-haired witch from moving through, careful to make sure that Harry is still keeping up. "I still don't see Ron, do you?"
"They are incredibly fast.." Reverie replies, sighing as she runs her fingers through her hair. "Go! My grandmum moves faster than you all!" she heckles from the stand, showing her obvious displeasure with the performance thus far.
"Chocolate Frog all right?" Antigone asks Cullen as he makes his 'gimme' gesture, already reaching into pull one out, assuming someone so eager for sweets probably will say yes to one of those. "Just don't lose it in this crowd!" Looking back at Cho, her eyebrows go up as the girl goes getting all mischievous again. Oh boy. This doesn't bode well. She doesn't seem quite sure what to say to Stephen at that point, just offering him an apologetic smile.
Stephen smiles. "Excellent.", he says, turning to lead Tig towards his family's box. When Cho speaks up, he's quick to turn around and fix a most devious grin on his face, of course making sure it's out of Tig's sightline. "Why, Miss Chang. Surely someone so quick to chastise someone about showing up where they aren't wanted wouldn't go so far as to violate their own principles, would you? Besides. There's only one seat left. Pity.", he says, turning to Tig and his smile morphs back into something more benign. "I can always tell Bertie you were with your friends, if that's a problem."
"Bring it on!" The British Keeper shouts, as the opposing chasers close in on his hoops. His eyes watch the three women and the quaffle as it's passed and the launched towards him. Oh yeah, perfect position to catch it. But then his broom lurches sideways, causing him to have to grab for the handle. Off to the left, one of the North American Beaters waves his bat in a friendly gesture. The quaffle, goes sailing over the Keepers head and through the hoops.
*DING* "Another ten points for the North American League!" the announcer says. "It's not looking good for the British League."
"Britain, Britain!" Near Harry, two recognizable redheads start up a chant while waving their pendants. "My mum flies faster than you!" One of them calls, and the other one echoes, "Speed up, or you'll be outpaced by a tree!" Fred and George are enjoying themselves considerably.
Ooooh. Burn. Cho shakes her head and takes a deep breath trying to calm herself down. Her cheeks flush red with anger before she sighs soft and makes a dismissive wave. "Antigone..you go off and join them then. I'm afraid I'd catch something in that box, so do be careful when you go up there.." she replies before easing back down as she politely refuses the offer of sweets. She's hyper enough already.
High-fiving their way back to the middle of the pitch, the three North American chasers move back into a defensive position, waiting for the British Keeper to put the Quaffle back into play.
Silvester is perfectly content with the score, despite the ruckus caused by the British starting off the game behind. Despite having no real interest in the game, he moves closer to the pitch from where he is on the ground level. His sons meanwhile, are getting their ears boxed by their mother for profuse usage of language.
As Harry starts down the steps, he has to pause one second to glance at Fred and George. For a moment he wonders if the two have a secret bet going on who will win, but then he remembers Ron. "No kidding." Harry nods, eyes scanning the amazingly long line. "If he's not here, where else would he be?"
Briefly, a scuffle breaks out somewhere in the stands. Nothing major, simply someone selling bootleg and inferior American league merchandise. The majority of the lot hexed of course and it is quickly confiscated by the Ministry.
"I - Er, all right," Antigone replies slowly, starting to sound, as she increasingly does when around this particular group of people, rather confused. She ignores Cho's warning with a small smile, offering the Frog to Cullen. "I'll catch up with you later then, shall I?" There's a slight edge to her tone as if she's trying to make sure they aren't upset with her for running off. Still, there's only so much she can worry about at a time, and she doesn't want to seem rude to keep Stephen waiting, so she turns back to him with a nod, mustering up a smooth smile. "I'd be happy to join you, thank you…" She trails off spotting the scuffle, but her attention is soon back on her peers.
Jack seems to resign himself for the moment, so decides to answer Reverie's question. "Oh, I loved it. Strange people, but I loved it. Different parts of the country are very different, and there's so much space!" He spreads his arms wide to show what he means. "I mean, it took me four hours to get from one place to another in Montana. And they thought that was normal." Couldn't apparate until he'd been to the place.
Cullen nods toward Antigone, taking offered item in hand and tucking it between palms. "Thank you," He chimes, head tipping toward Cho after, "It's not a big deal, is it?" His question is quiet, though no less cheery for it. Hand wags in farewell toward Antigone, calling, "Have fun, if you can manage it up there!"
"One of my friends went for a little sight seeing trip in Texas. Twenty four hours in a muggle car and they were still in the same state!" Reverie quips, snickering softly as she shakes her head, grinning the entire time. "I think that's perhaps where they get their egos..from the size of their states, no?" she muses for a few moments.
"Do enjoy yourself, Antigone. And make sure you sit next to Bertrum!" Cho calls out, fluttering her eyelashes as she eases on down next to Cullen once more as she shakes her head. "He just came down here to invite and then to rescind. He's an arse like that.." she says with a soft chuckle as she leans in and steals a quick peck on the cheek to make herself forget about all that stuff. It's then that the scuffle catches nher attention. "What do you think is going on over there? Fights breaking out already?"
Eyeing the Twins, Hermione just shakes her head. "I'm sure your mum can fly quite well, actually," she tells them in a superior tone. It's something she reverts to when she's worried. "I don't know. He must be around here somewhere. You don't think he got hurt or trampled, do you, Harry? Maybe we should check the medi-witch tent." Seeing Antigone a few steps up, she tugs Harry in that direction. She may know him. She said she knew of the Weasleys, right? "Antigone!" she waves, in a way to get her attention. It's hard to go against the crowd in order to see the Hufflepuff.
Stephen gives Antigone a charming smile. "Please. Ladies first.", he gestures, pointing towards where the box is. It would be less than a minute travel if it weren't for the throng of people. Plus Stephen has to turn around once Antigone starts going to give Cho a smirk. As it stands, it takes them a few minutes longer to get to the box, noticing Hermione Granger along the way. "Miss Granger.", he says cordially. It's likely the two have probably seen each other in passing quite a bit in the library.
Antigone nods to Stephen, returning his charming smile with a polite one of her own. "Thank you. See you later then," is offered to the two disparate groups in turn. With that, she heads on up, trying to navigate towards the box that Stephen has indicated. Hearing her voice again, she looks over, trying to search out the familiar face in the crowd. Upon spotting Hermione, her expression breaks into a friendly grin, and then eyebrows lift as she notes Harry in tow. "Hermione, hello! I see you did make it after all!" she calls against the noise of the crowd.
While the action goes on above the pitch, down on the actual field itself, appears a black robed and hooded figure. The hooded head tilts upward, and a grizzled face can barely be seen. A hand withdraw from the person's robe, holding a wand. As it's pointed skyward, the hood falls back. From multiple spots in the stadium there are screams. And even a couple voices shout - 'IT'S BLACK! SIRIUS BLACK!'. And indeed, the person on the field cracks a grin. When he speaks, only one word is uttered as he points the wand towards the sky.
"MOSMORDRE!" And as green sparks shoot out of the wand, in the sky over the pitch a skull starts to coalesce from smoke.
With that the man starts sprinting for the exit.
"You could always punch him," Cullen suggests toward Cho, "I imagine that'd wipe the smug smile off his face, right?" There's a lopsided grin Cullen offers, eyes sketching out across toward the small disturbance in the crowd. "Someone overzealous, probably. I'm more looking forward to seeing what happens at the end of the game, myself. Maybe there'll be a riot." He sounds far more interested in that than the actual game. When there's commotion, though, he stops, cranes head upward.
"Yeah, that might be it, though not all of 'em are so egotistical, at least in my experience." Jack chuckles. He leans back, continuing to watch the game, enjoying it even though his team is losing. There's still hope, though. "C'mon!" He calls loudly. And then, all hell breaks loose. "What the Hell!" His instinct is to protect Reverie, so he pulls her closer to him, and pulls out his wand, keeping it down for the moment. Tightly gripped in his hand, though.
A loud tweet from Kittson's whistle, and he stops play, "Inside - everyone off the pitch, /NOW!/" he barks, as he sends both Bludgers speeding down towards the man in the middle of the pitch with a flick of his wand. The result of the spell that Black cast hangs over the pitch like a green shroud, snake and skull, and that is enough to send a dozen Quidditch players racing for the exit, followed by the referee.
Stephen and Antigone should be quite close to the St. Claire box once "Sirius Black" fires off the Dark Mark, and his eyes widen, realizing instantly that this is going to turn into a bloody riot. "Tig, get in the box, NOW.", he says sharply, pushing her towards the door and shutting it firmly behind them to avoid the soon-to-be stampede towards the exits.
Stephen gets a glance in his direction. Oh, right, a Slytherin. Hermione just nods at his greeting. There are more important things to worry about right now, like finding Ron, though, so she focuses on Antigone. "You haven't happened to see Ron, have you? He's a Weasley, red hair and all that." She gestures at the top of her head as if she could properly pantomime red hair. "Oh, yes, we did, thank you," she adds a bit breathlessly. Introductions will come later once they find their friend.
At the screams and the sudden greenish tinge to the sky, Hermione whips around, the hand that's taken hold of Harry's tightening significantly. Her face turns pale. "But…" it can't be Sirius. She knows that for a fact. Ignoring the screaming and people shoving and pushing in order to make it one way or another, she only grips onto the Boy Who Lived tighter. "We have to find Ron," she tells him, terrified.
"I wish I could, and I just might. But not when his mum is up there.." Cho mutters softly as she leans in and steals another quick kiss for the voice of support. "Besides, you should beat him up. Defend my honor and all?" she quips, teasing him before suddenly there's the commotion on the field. Her eyes widen as she gasps and searches around. "No..not again.." There's clear horror on her features and she freezes up just a bit before snapping back to reality. "Cullen, we have to get out of here..NOW.."
There's no resistance as she's pulled closer to Jack and swallows a tad bit nervously. "That's Black?!?!?" Reverie asks, her eyes widening as she reaches around for her wand as well. "Is he an idiot bringing up the dark mark..there /has/ to be more.." she says as she starts scanning the area pulling out her wand in the end.
On her feet, Hooch pulls her wand, golden eyes flicking back and forth before she starts barking out orders to whomever is nearby and listening - students and parents alike - trying to keep some semblance of order in her section of the stands while chaos erupts all around her.
The Willowy witch (Tonks) is Practically leaping forward. A hand reaches to grab Jack's shoulder. Should he look up, the visage is fading into that of Tonks. "Get her out of here, NOW." And she's going towards the two children. "Get the hell out of here, Harry," is barked at him. She'll run passed Jack and Reverie her orders barked, and passed Harry and Hermione. She's an Auror, so her target is down in the field, not trying to direct traffic.
Cue panic. The Hit Wizards, Aurors and other Ministry members on hand disapparate and apparate down onto the pitch proper, no heed to the game that hasn't halted yet. "HALT!" "STUPEFY!" "EXPELLIARMUS!" Curses and spells fly after the retreating Black as operatives are in hot pursuit.
Those not in pursuit are trying to call for calm in the audience, casting worried glances up at the Dark Mark. Some seeing it for the first time. "Everyone! Evacuate the stadium in an orderly fashion!," cries one wizard who looks a bit authoritative with the aid of Sonorous to be heard over the din.
And suddenly things cross into the unusual. The waves of chatter and the reactions to the game are all well and good - they're to be expected, and Edwin isn't against letting other people have their fun - but this newest turn is the kind of situation where he tends to shine. The man erupts from his seat and draws his wand, stumbling a little in his haste as he tracks the passage of the perpetrator. Seeing the Dark Mark again is almost comforting. Unfortunately Edwin isn't even remotely close enough to the pitch to pursue the man on foot, but that doesn't mean he won't try to barge past the panicking crowd to get to the stairs.
Being tugged by Hermione, Harry nods lightly. "He might have had too many sweets too." he says, starting to move towards the medi-witch tent. But then, there's this sensation of pressure on his hand and he turns to follow Hermione's gaze upward. "Bloody hell. Why now?" he groans, nodding furiously. "It can't be Sirius, I know." is all he says, tugging her towards the St Mungos tent. "I'll explain later. If the Death Eaters are here we need to move fast."
"No, I'm afraid I haven-" is as far as Antigone gets in answering Hermione before madness breaks loose. She lets out a girlish squeal, more at the reaction of the crowd than anything. People freaking out don't help her to stay calm! She turns to stare, wide-eyed, at the scene down on the field, at least until Stephen urges her into action. She's easily compliant, only just stumbling slightly as she's shoved into his family box. "What- What's going on?" she asks in a quiet tone, looking rather anxiously around.
"C'mon, Rev." Jack's shortened her name. The mediwitch will see Jack's 'professional' side. He's not an Auror, but he's got the instincts and timing. "C'mon," he repeats. Let's get out of here." He frowns, and squeezes her tightly. "Mind if I apparate us? We'll go to my house. Safer."
"Bertie, dear boy," Dahlia Holmwood says as she places a delicate hand on the arm of her nephew's seat. "Run along and fetch me a bag of sweeties?" The request is given in a whisper, so as not to outwardly betray the older ladies sweet tooth. But Bertie hasn't even gotten rid of his brief look of reluctance before the mayhem begins. The St. Claires' move one way, meeting Stephen and Antigone at the door of the box, while Bertrum and his aunt move another. In a moment, Dahlia's delicate hand becomes a claw, clutching fervently at Bertrum's arm. In another, they're both gone.
"Tonks!" Reverie cries out and simply nods before she takes Jack's hand and lets her fingers entwine with his. "That's safest.." she says, her instincts of self-preservation overriding those of her instincts of OMG perv! She takes a deepbreath and looks around once more, chewing on her bottom lip. "I think I'm going to have a busy night at St. Mungos.." she mutters before motioning for him to apparate them out.
Rather than falling down onto the ground and reverting to panic mode, Silvester is actually throwing up red sparks with his wand, directing people towards the exit he's closest too! "This way! Come quickly, no shoving!," he instructs. While worried about his family, he knows his wife will keep their children safe. (Portia's a right terror, she is.)
Cullen rises as the world fills with noise, pops, and general uproar. He reaches one hand hand, circling fingers around Cho's wrist and making short nod. "Out," He agrees ferverently, foot rising to touch to the bench, making quick sketch of the field and people around. "Piss." He seems disgruntled to say the least, face twisted into expression of worry as he makes one firm tug at the girl by his side.
"Nice try!" Black shouts, as he dodges the spells left and right. "Crucio!" he shouts, pointing his wand at one of the Hit Wizards in chase. "You'll have to faster than that to catch dear old Black!" Cackling, he starts shoving his way through the evacuating crowd. Which isn't moving fast enough so he starts blasting them out of his way.
Cho simply runs along side Cullen. There's no hesitation there as reaches for her wand and looks around while chewing on her bottom lip, just in case anything might pop in their way on the way to safety. "Let's go that way!" she says, pointing to where Silvester is leading an evacuation. Seems safe enough.
It's only a matter of a moment for Jack to 'deliberate' long enough to see the huge Noble Manor in his mind. "It's not too far from here, and I'm sure Mum'll let you clean up nicely before you have to run off." He, too realizes she'll probably have a busy night. "She'll probably offer you some food, too…" And with a loud pop, he's gone, and the lady with him. She's safe, Tonks, you can worry about other things now.
Luna looks up after Edwin as he bolts from his seat, leaning aside to speak to her father, "Something's happening. Do you think we should move along to?" With all the people running every which way, Luna believed her seat was rather safe at the moment. In fact, she draws her feet up to sit upon her own seat, as Xenophilius does the same, letting those panicking dash in front of the Lovegoods.
"Later?" Hermione shoots Harry a look. That is the one thing she would /not/ like to happen. Turning, concerned toward Antigone, she glances at Stephen. "You can make sure she's safe, right? Antigone, go into the box, if you can. Just…keep down. We have to find our friend. That's the Dark Mark." As for Tonks' warning, she would take it if she knew Ron was safe. If she were more herself, she'd yell at Harry for using such language. He must have learned it from Ron. Dodging witches and wizards shoving and pushing in either direction, she nods at Harry. "Come on, we've got to find him." There's no way that is Sirius Black and a hardened expression crosses her face as she starts running toward the ground with Harry, eyes searching for the tell-tale red hair.
The Hit Wizard struck by the Cruciatus Curse falls to the ground, screaming in pain. A blood curdling sound that manages to be heard over the noise of the panic. None of the wizards stop to help their fallen comrade, instead they're pursuing on foot, apparating to and fro with audible *POPS* to try and stop Black. Spells are still flying, although the aurors and hit wizards are more careful to aim only at Black, but in the crowd, there may be a few innocents hit.
Tonks stops just shy of jumping down into the ground itself. She begins barking "suggestions" at other aurors she recognizes, before she hears that voice. She turns and sees that blasting. Tonks is bolting towards that man, her wand at the ready. She seemsnot happy. She tries to gauge her distance, having to leap and avoid evacuating people (and falling flat on her ass, and on her face, and oh god that run in with the booth did NOT feel good). But Tonks is /damned determined/ to get to her /Dear Cousin/ and give him a piece of her mindwhich is why as soon as she thinks she can get a clear shot—STupefy's going off.
Having chivvied both teams into the locker rooms, Kittson re-emerges. Still on his broom, with a Beater's bat in his hand, he streaks fearlessly after the retreating Black…
Antigone nods to Hermione's instructions, not really the sort of girl to argue about not needing to be taken care of. Right now, having someone make sure she doesn't get trampled sounds fine by her! "Be careful, Hermione!" she calls after the Gryffindor girl, paling slightly as Hermione explains the significance of the signal over the field. She's a little befuddled as Bertrum is yanked off the other way, offering him a vacant wave as she finds herself jostled into the box.
Harry ducks his head into the medi-witch tent. "RON! Ron Weasley. Has anyone seen him?" The young witches all shake their head, pointing to the one lone patient in the beds assembled. "Right. He's not in there. He might have gotten to the portkey by now and went home."
Stephen gives his best mate a nod as Bertrum's aunt Disapparates them from the scene of the chaos. "Mother, Father, this is Antigone Atherton.", he says quickly, turning to Antigone. "Is your family here?", he asks urgently. "If they're not, we should do the same as Bertie and his aunt and get out of here.
Cullen doesn't have much finesse at going out, merely doing the best to ensure neither him or his date are swept in the wrong direction. The nearest exit directed to is the one he takes, not sparing much glance back toward the way the herd of Aurors and their target are going save to avoid that area.
"STUPEFY!" More stunning spells go off in Black's direction. Any victims of friendly fire can be sorted out later by the officials, and smoothed over in later reports. Those not in pursuit are still aiding in emptying the stadium and assisting those unable to disapparate. Emergency portkeys are even being created, just to get people out faster.
Cho merely follows, her eyes glancing around and making sure nothing scary pops up. Hopefully nothing pops up. She doesn’t even bother looking towards the field anymore before she yells out spying Stephen and Antigone still there in the box. "Antigone! OUT! Come on!" she yells.
"How do you do," Antigone replies, turning to offer Stephen's parents a polite, if distracted, greeting. "A pleasure meeting you both." At least having social graces makes that all just second nature, since she's paying zero attention to that part of things, instead staring out at the chaos engulfing the stands, and what's going on down on the field. It's only when Stephen mentions her family that she looks back over at him with wide eyes. "Mother's here with my sisters. I hope she's just seen to getting them out of here. Amalthea is still so tiny."
Mobility. It's a fine thing, and Kittson is certainly possessed of it on his black-painted Firebolt. He shows his colors as a former Beater as he flies after Black and the Bludgers, smacking one as he passes it, hard, in the direction of the fleeing convict's head.
Luna and her father are urged along by one of the officials, in fact. Heaving a sigh as if they had asked them to jump off a cliff, the Lovegoods rise to their collective feet, hang onto their caps, and start to wade through the crowds at the stadium, holding hands so as not to get lost in the throng.
"Without us?" Hermione can't imagine that possibility. If it's true, she's going to give him a piece of his mind. "What if he's been hit by a curse or something? He could be just lying there, helpless." Head swinging around as if to try and catch a glimpse of the red-haired wizard, she frets, near tears. "When we find him, I'm going to hex the freckles off his face!" Heading out of the medi-witch tent, she starts calling again. "Ron! Ronald Weasley!"
The spells go flying past Black's head. But he's good at dodging them. Awfully agile for an escapee. "Out of the way!" he shouts, pointing his wand and blasting a path through more of the crowd. Heading for the woods. Something flies past his head. Was that…it was. A Bludger! Glancing over his shoulder he sees Kittison. "Bad move old man." he says, spinning to run backwards for a moment. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouts, watching the killing curse heading straight for the dark man. "A shame, really. Awfully good aim."
Tonks finds perchase on the backs of a couple of chairs. The moment the wand gets whipped out, though unfortunately not before the Curse goes off, "EXPELLIARMUS!" She needs to work on her reflexes.
…His eyes widen, and Kittson has just enough time to shout, "that's cheat—" before the green-lit killing curse hits him, full on in the chest. A strangled noise comes from his throat as he exhales for the last time, and, head-over-teacup, falls from his broom, seemingly in slow motion, to lie in a heap on the ground at the exit to the pitch, his beloved Firebolt continuing without him.
"Let's go.", Lance St. Claire says firmly. "Young miss, we'll find your parents and then we'll all get out of here.", he continues. Stephen nods and follows everyone out of the box. "Which direction??", Stephen asks hurriedly before turning around in horror at the sound of the Killing Curse being cast and seeing some guy on a broomstick get blasted full on in the chest. Horror dawns upon him as the enormity of the situation suddenly gets a lot more real. "We have t'get out of here. NOW.", he says urgently as the St. Claires move with Antigone towards her family.
This event just keeps getting worse. How in the world did /Sirius Black/ of all people get through security! Now he's managed to kill someone after firing off the Dark Mark! Not good. There seems to be a controlled sort of panic amongst the representatives of Wizarding government as they work to bring things under control and a fugitive back into custody.
So she did look back, just as the distinctive green light of the killing curse is thrown and hits someone. Cho squeals in fright as she grabs on even tighter to Cullen. "Let's go! Now! Someone just got killed!" she says as she starts rushing out.
"Fred and George were here. They might have herded him off." Harry suggests, trying to come up with viable excuses as he continues to scan the area for the third member of the Trio. Both of them are getting worried, her seeming more than him. "We'll find him. I'm sure." About the time he says that, in runs a silvery hen. "Harry! Hermione! The twins and Ron. Safe. Home. Now." Sounds like whoever sent it was out of breath, and then the hen fades.
Cullen shuffles along with Cho, wincing when she makes her pronouncement. He gives short inclination of head at the girl, hustling along beside, out in the nearest direction. Staying, apparently, is not a good idea for him.
Antigone points vacantly towards that same general area of the stands where she'd indicated her mother and sisters were before. "They're over there, sir," she replies in a distracted voice, starting to turn back to the group. She can't help but look down at the field to see what's going on, and as she sees the referee get struck by that horrible curse and fall from his broomstick, she lets out another girlish shriek and quickly turns away, covering her eyes. "Getting out of here sounds good!" she agrees in a weak tone. She starts trying to make her way along with Stephen and his family to find her own.
As the killing curse is fired, Hooch's golden eyes go wide, and she cringes, remembering that spell all too well… "Out! In an orderly fashion, please," she continues barking orders, lighting the stairwell with her wand and a quick charm to send people in the right direction, "I said ORDERLY!"
Oh, that's a good one! Why didn't someone think of that sooner. The wand in Black's hand goes flying in Tonk's direction. "Nice one, cousin." he says, eying the Firebolt that is closing on his position. Seems someone has also done their research. "But, you'll have to wait for another day for all your questions, as I'm sure you're dying to know why." His voice is starting to crack, as he reaches up and grabs the Firebolt. In one swift move, he's off the ground and onto the broom and disappearing into the darkness of the nearby wood.
As soon as the silver hen tells them that Ron is safe, Hermione wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Relief is palpable for her. Thank Merlin for that, at least. However, she still looks determined. Eyes tilted up toward the sky, she points out the Sirius imposter as he flies off into the night. "We should find out what happened." Then, looking around, she realizes that Mrs. Weasley may not take too kindly to that if she sent the silver hen. "We know it's not Sirius, Harry. This is going to make it even harder for him to prove his innocence."
Tonks reaches out to snag the wand, hissing a bit. Her wand whips out to try to snag another STUPEFY at the retreating Black. The whole 'Someone get him' should not need to be said. Damn, she needs to know how to work her patronus to send messagesshe needs to talk to Moody, or DumbledoreLupin would be great too! With Black disappearing, she scowls. "Scrimgeour and Kinsley's going to love this," she mutters. Then almost an after thought, Tonks goes stalking off. Where the hell did taht Potter boy go off to.
As Sirius flies into the darkness, Cho lets out a scared little squeak as she spies the portkey in sight. "There! The portkey! Let's go home.." she says with a bit of urgency.
At least it's a relief knowing their friend is safe, but as Harry watches the man disappear into the woods his face is set in a frown. "Whoever it is, I hope they get what's coming to them" he says, through gritted teeth. Just when he thought he might be able to spend more time with his godfather…life pulls cruel tricks. "It had to be a Death Eater. To summon the dark mark like that? But how did they manage to impersonate him?" he ponders, glancing at Hermione sidelong.
It goes without saying that brooms take off into the air with officials in hot pursuit to try and bring in the fugitive. The Aurors approaching closest to Tonks scowl at the woman, as if perhaps she let him get away. "Good job Nymphadora, getting the wand back. That's going to come in handy," states one scowling wizard in a sarcastic manner. "I'll be taking that," states an authoritative Auror, holding a hand out ready to confiscate the wand for evidence.
There's a frown, her hair suddenly /violently/ red. "Yes, nice aim there, too, Jenkins. I'm sure that you're right capable of hitting /stationary/ targets. Tell me, you going to check in on that bystander that got pelted in the back of the head?" She turns to look at Mr. Authority before handing over the wand. She's careful not to say anything cheeky to /him/. But it's obvious she doesn't like turning it over.
Why does she get the feeling she'll be held responsible for the getaway?
Jenkins bristles at being told off by Tonks, but strides off wordlessly, fuming as he checks on the bystander. "That's enough out of you," Bosley states, examining the wand, even forcing the wand to regurgitate past spells. Tonks may not get blamed completely, but she'll definitely be grilled with questions later.
"We know it's possible to change your appearance," Hermione gives Harry a sidelong glance. "All it takes is a lock of their hair and the proper ingredients. We did it our Second Year." She brewed the potion herself, with Moaning Myrtle as her companion. It's hard for her to forget that incident, as she turned into a cat from the experience. Glancing around to take stock of those around her, she frowns, trying to see if there's anyone left she recognizes.
Tonks just /looks/ at Bosley. Her jaw juts out in the attempt not to talk back. Already her mind's on what can already be done with that wand—SHE did more than anyone else did. She actually HIT HIM. "Am I free to go, sir?"
Bosley gives Tonks a cold eyed stare, before nodding. "We'll be convening in a meeting shortly. Be back when called," he says in a snappish tone for the Auror under his charge.
"Yeah, that's true." Harry nods, having forgotten about that incident with all that was going on. "I just hope no one we know got hurt. Though I doubt they'll tell us anything right now. Probably have to wait for the morning edition of the Prophet." he adds, glancing around. "Think maybe we should head back? I mean, before Mrs. Weasley sends another hen after us?" He doesn't relish the idea of a Howler Hen. Or having it attempt to peck at his leg.
Antigone finally gets close enough to spot her mother, who's carrying one little girl while clutching tightly to the hand of another. Both girls look scarcely old enough to be going to Hogwarts. Tig's way is blocked, though, and after trying to get around people a few times, she instead calls out to her mother, jumping up and down to get herself spotted. When Mrs. Atherton finally looks her way, Tig stops jumping. "Just get the girls out, mother! I'll see to myself!" she calls. And though her mother doesn't seem too keen on the idea of it, she's left no choice but to nod and take care of getting the little ones out, and they edge around the crowd, out of sight. "Er, guess I'd better see to finding myself a portkey then," she murmurs a little awkwardly, as she turns back to Stephen and his family.
Silvester is still present, having a job to do, helping people out. Even helping with portkeys away from the stadium. "That's it, right you go here. Come now! Don't dawdle, we have a mass murdering lunatic on the loose! Take this can and be gone!"
"Portkey, nothing.", Lance St. Claire says. "You'll stay with us until everything is calmed down. We'll Apparate out. Let's go.", he says firmly. He places a hand gently on her shoulder while Stephen's mother places a hand on his. A moment later, they're gone.
Tonks just stalks away from Bosley, not looking forward to any meetings. She's heading straight for Harry and Hermione. She'll pass the both of them, and quietly state "Don't write to him. Keep your nose clean." And then she's marching out to help clean up the mess. If she tries to leave to check up on things now, it'll look shifty.
Seeing that everyone is portkeying out or busy with other people, Hermione just gives a nod. "I am going to give Ron such a talking to. Scaring us like that." Then, softer, "We should warn Sirius - he may not know yet. We can use Pig to send him a note." But, then as Tonks walks past them, she frowns. Don't write to him? That's just cruel. As Silvester runs through hustling people away, she looks over at Harry before taking a hold of the can he's handed out.
Harry glances at Tonks as she passes by. Obviously this woman knows something he doesn't. Now he's going to start wondering. Harry + wondering mind = Trouble. "Right." he nods, putting up the front that he's going to obey. "Soon as we get back we'll send it off." He too then reaches for the portkey/can that's been handed out, intent on heading back to the hill overlooking Ottery St. Catchpole.