Ginny had already introduced the New Zealand team. The only incident of note was provided by Chaser Dennis Moon on his introductory lap. He made sure to pass at the level of Ron and Harry's box, making various insulting gestures. He probably also yelled some insulting things, but the crowd drowned them out, especially what with the War Haka being chanted by the team's fans.

  Ron waved back amiably. He had forgotten, though, that he had restored Kyinté's gloves to the correct size, and returned them. The flash of his glittering hand caused Moon's eyes to widen as he flew on. Harry smacked Ron in the head, again.

  Moon's little stunt went over well, especially with the New Zealand fans. A chant of "WEAS-LEY WANK-ER! WEAS-LEY WANK-ER!" went up, but died off quickly, as the next player was introduced. The Seeker, Ngapo Ponika, came out to cheers, and made his lap without incident.

  "Kindly welcome, Witches and Wizards - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! At the position of Keeper, Georgi Zdravko!"

  The Scarlet and Gold clad figure was moving so fast it was a blur. But it shot down onto the pitch from an upper level accessway, not the traditional location, a tunnel from from their locker room, opening directly onto the pitch.

  Zdravko made the quickest circuit yet of the stadium. But, since all of the team were on the Mk II Firebolt Supreme, Harry knew it could have been much quicker. Suddenly, he stiffened.

  "Bollocks!"

  "What?" Ron asked. Then he stiffened as well. "Crud!"

  Harry snatched a black folder from his dimensional pocket, and skimmed it at the two guards.

  "Demelli," he yelled, "Read them in, quick."

  A projection appeared where anyone in the box could see it, but nobody outside had a proper angle.

  Lucky you forgot to close me down again last time. Not complaining, mind. We're having a HEL of a day!

  Its focus shifted to Kyinté and Dara.

  New meat, huh? it read sympathetically. Well, just hang on, and I'll get you up to speed...

  Zdravko had reached the spot in the air where his team was supposed to gather. Instead of just sitting there like the New Zealanders, he began to weave side to side slowly, leading with the tip of his broom handle, in a figure-eight that stretched about four feet to either side.

  At the Beater positions, Dimitar Draganov and Boris Vulchanov!

  These two erupted from either end of the stadium, and started flying their circuits in opposite directions. They weren't trying for speed, but each time they passed, once on the opposite side, and once in front of the Top Box, they made their Beater's Bats collide with a deafening CRACK! that echoed about the stadium. They assumed their positions above and to either side of their Keeper, and began doing their own figure-eights. They were synchronised with each other, but not with Zdravko. This was good, because the upper and lower paths crossed, but there was never a collision.

  By now, both Harry and Ron had removed their outer layer of clothing, to reveal Bulgarian Team robes. They donned flying gloves, which solved Ron's hand problem nicely. They then micro-dosed themselves with Polyjuice Potion. The two new Krums faced the newly briefed guard.

  Harry-Krum said, "Station yourselves either side of the door. Either of you have Illusion Magic?"

  Dara nodded as Kyinté jutted his chin to indicate her. "This one is a beast," he added.

  "Can you see through your own Illusions?" Harry demanded.

  She nodded again. "Aye. Anybody can, if they're beside or behind me."

  "You can make one-sided Illusions?" Ron-Krum said. "Brilliant!"

  Harry-Krum went on. "Good. Put up the Illusion and open the door quietly. If someone is out there, do not attack. While want prisoners, hopefully alive, it is not worth either of your lives. Are we clear?"

  Nods.

  "I am going out, fast. I will be coming back faster. Ron will pop up, stand at Attention, and wait for the team to break ranks and come here to escort Krum."

  In the Chaser postions: Bogomil Levski, Stoyanka Grozda, and Nikola Vassileva!

  The crowd was craning their heads in every direction, to see where the Chasers would come from.

  Suddenly, a scream came from above, straight out of the afternoon sun. It was the hunting scream of a raptor, the death knell that causes prey to freeze for one fatal instant.

  Those with Omnioculars, (and good reflexes), were able to make out a black dot, which all too quickly became three black dots, then three flyers. They were diving, backs to the sun, at a ridiculous speed. The Omnioculars that had successfully located the flyers had the words, Hawkshead Attacking Formation, appear in their view. And then had the target designated as the space in the air that the New Zealand team were currently occupying.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The NZ players didn't turn a hair. Some glanced up dismissively, some had a sardonic smile, and a couple even grinned in delight at the spectacle. Among their supporters, the War Haka broke out again.

  At the last moment, (some might have said after the last moment), Stoyanka Grozda's Sonorus-infused Hawk Scream sounded again, freezing approximately 74.674% of the spectators in their seats. The Bulgarians split in three directions and pulled up, using every inch of available pitch to keep from ploughing themselves. They barely cleared the bottom row of seats, toes of their boots almost brushing a few elaborate hairdos as they rocketed up the face of the stands.

  The Chasers barrel-rolled up and over to assume their positions. They made a third layer of the formation, immediately beginning their own figure-eights. They formed an interweaving, downward-pointing triangle

  Harry-Krum said some final words as the formation gelled. "When I come back, I am going to blast right through the Illusion, and see if I can catch someone off their guard. When the team arrives to escort Krum, yell, DROP! Then drop the Illusion".

  "Giving Krum his cue, and Auror Weasley a head start to the deck," Dara said.

  "Precisely."

  "And NOW..." came Ginny's voice.

  "Showtime," said Ron-KRUM.

  "Playing in the Seeker position, the man whose name is on everybody's lips..."

  Harry-Krum snatched his Firebolt out of his pocket and backed almost to the door before mounting. Ron-Krum Vanished the rest of the seats.

  "...KRUM!"

  ***

  The latest Firebolts have been rated at 0 to 160 mph in ten seconds, with a top speed of 170. Even before his impromptu 'race' with Nienna he had been considering some way to get just little bit of 'oomph' out of his broom. The Firebolt already had birch twigs, so that wouldn't help.

  Or would it?

  The Firebolt Company did service their products, and they did a fine job. But Harry 'had a guy.'

  You wanted me to give it a good hard test, Spud, Harry-Krum thought. This should fill the bill. And, hopefully, keep me alive.

  ***

  Harry-Krum blasted out of the box so fast that even the best prepared spectator lost track of him. Luckily, so did the best prepared assassins. The roofline of the stadium overhung the top rows of seats. Harry-Krum's path curved until he was flying over the roof, making a giant circle.

  Glitter and sparks came from the tail of his broom, making the spells bursting behind him look to be simply more effects. The people who were managing to watch him through Omnioculars were entranced until the green flashing notice at the edge of their vision caught their eyes.

  UNABLE TO CALCULATE SPEED. 200+ MPH.

  Harry-Krum could see the assassins spaced all around the roof. No doubt they meant to overwhelm Krum with simultaneous castings on his introductory lap, while he was away from his team. Harry-Krum's speed and path had caught them off guard, but the quicker thinkers were finally targeting him. Fortunately, wands are not rifles. Very few wizards were familiar with the concept of 'leading a target.' Harry-Krum didn't try to jink or dodge, at that speed he couldn't. He was afraid to even open his mouth, for fear of disrupting his airstream.

  He could, however, Silently cast, and he did so,

  Incarcerous! Dispersa! Colovaria!

  Multi-colored single ropes spread in his wake, writhing and scattering over the roof. Harry-Krum doubted they would make any captures, but a distraction would be welcome. And getting hit by anything going at that speed had to hurt.

  Bending his course down into the stadium, letting the speed bleed off, he dove, not at the Kiwis, but at the odd Bulgarian formation. Timing it perfectly, the team stopped, leaving a triangular space that Harry-Krum went through, already pulling out of the dive. The team then peeled off, following him, top three, middle two, and Keeper Zdravko bringing up the rear. Harry-Krum disappeared into the box, obviously braking, but still going very, very fast.

  There was a pause of only seconds. Ron-Krum appeared at the front of the box, holding a broom, brush up. The team took position in the air before the box, facing out. They were still in a triangular formation, point down, but no longer weaving about. As they waited, a tall black officer in the uniform of Cup Security approached Ron-Krum from the side, bearing another broom. He took it in his right hand, in mirror image to the other.

  The crowd was stunned, all the more so as the owners of Omnioculars spread their news. Some were obviously checking their replays, and were pointing out the broom on the left, which had much darker twigs. They were almost black, in fact.

  Before the hubbub could grow further, Ginny's voice rang out.

  "What you have just seen is the first demonstration of a secret new concept in the art of Broomsmithing. So secret, in fact, that less than ten people in this stadium knew of it. Even Viktor Krum's team was only told their part in the presentation." There was a chuckle in her voice as she continued. "Not that you could have told that by watching their faces."

  More sternly, she went on, "But this is all anyone will be told. The only reason this much was revealed is so that no one can accuse Mr. Krum of using an unsanctioned broom."

  Ron-Krum ostentatiously laid the dark-twigged broom down out of sight, and held the other at Port-Arms.

  "His game broom has been thoroughly inspected, tried out, and held in secure lock-up. It was returned to him, in front of you as witnesses, just now."

  ***

  In the box, Krum had come out from under the Cloak, where he had been standing in the corner all along. Into the Dressing Room, out the secret passage, he had made his way to his reserved box, sliding through between Harry and Ron once they arrived. After the presentations, which had brought a rare smile to his cloaked face, there was a moment of, not panic, but disapproval, when Ron and Harry seemed to forget the plan. After Harry blasted out of the box, Krum had handed off his game broom to Kyinté to present to Ron.

  Strongly Disillusioned, Krum sidled slowly in front of Ron-Krum, letting his Doppelganger's image show through. Ron had set Krum's game broom to the side, twigs down behind the half-wall that supported the railing. Gently, Krum raised his arm to match the positioning of Ron-Krum's. As Ron felt the warmth from the back of Krum's outstretched hand, he rolled the shaft of the broom from the tips of his fingers to the tips of Krum's.

  Once the broom was firmly in hand, Krum gradually dismissed his spell. As he grew more opaque, Ron slowly cast the same spell on himself. Really, it wasn't one of his best-laid spells, but it was much easier when he wasn't Apparating around like a madman, jinxing every thing in sight.

  Exchange complete, Ron wanted to get completely out of sight. He wasn't comfortable enough with his mastery of the magic to just turn and walk away, or even crouch.

  Sighing, he toppled backwards, stiff as a board.