"...and at Seeker for Germany, Thorsten Pfeffer! And as the Managers come out for their final words with their teams, or, in Wales' case, threats..."

  "BITE ME, WEASLEY!!"

  Now that was a Gwenog Jones shout, to be certain, thought Ginny, as she continued.

  "...I welcome all to the final First Round Game of the Two-Thousand and Fourteen Quidditch World Cup, between the National Team of Germany..."

  There was strong applause, as the German fans had turned out in force.

  "...and the National Team of Wales!"

  The applause here was louder, and much more widespread. Many of the fans in the stands had been impressed at Gwenog's quick reactions and cheerful willingness to use excessive force on members of The Purple Gang, as they were being colloquially referred to.

  ***

  (One-Half Hour Previously).

  Gwenog had been scanning the stands since halfway through Ginny's reveal, and had spotted someone in full coverage with cowl casually standing up and sidling along the frow of seats. The cowl was coming down just as Ginny uttered the words, '...LILAC PURPLE!!' It was only the briefest of moments before the cowl started back up.

  But it was a moment too long. Gwenog took off running at that section of stands, shouting, "Ceridwynn! UP!"

  The Cath Balog was already coming after her. The cat surged up beside Gwenog, growing as she ran. She was only the size of a Cape Buffalo when Gwenog threw herself on Ceridwynn's back, and grasped her around the neck. Two strides, then LEAP!

  They not only cleared the twenty-meter wall, but the first section of seats, landing in the aisle between that section and the one above. Gwenog pounded after her prey, while Ceridwynn took a moment to assume a size more suitable for the narrow aisles. She then loped off after her mistress, Cheshire Cat-grinning.

  ***

  (Back to the Present).

  "Players! By your Brooms!"

  "Hands OUT!"

  "Release the Balls!"

  (Pause for the Snitch to disappear).

  "BROOMS UP!"

  ***

  The crowd was already at a fever pitch, and the Germans did not disappoint.

  They led off with a manoeuvre that Ginny recognised immediately.

  "Schnell kicks the Quaffle to Menzel!"

  Menzel wove in and out of the opposing Chasers, before throwing back to Schnell.

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  "Menzel passes back to Schnell. Schnell stops dead in the air!"

  The scrum of players continued past him before pulling up to turn back, except for Liebig.

  "Schnell throws a high arcing pass. Menzel leaps off his broom, up above the scrum, and punches the Quaffle through the left-hand goal! SCORE! Liebig catches the Quaffle on the far side of the goals. He drops it! Dives to avoid two Bludgers and kicks the ball through the right-hand goal! And there's Schnell! He leaps off HIS broom and headers the Quaffle through the CENTER GOAL! Score and SCORE! THIRTY-NIL GERMANY!"

  Ginny took just a moment, then continued. "A perfectly executed Barrenheim Barrage, the signature move of Münchner Wolpertinger, the team from Munich. They rank Second in the Northern European League. I've never seen it pulled off so smoothly, even with Jones repeatedly shouting, 'BARRAGE, YOU IDIOTS! BARRAGE!' The move was probably inspired by the Beater who was selected from Munich for the National Team. David Weston is an truly remarkable example of a man who rose above his trials and tribulations through love of the Game. Please check out our interview in today's Daily Prophet."

  ***

  After that, though, the Germans couldn't capitalize on their amazing start. Dogged determination had Wales caught up by the end of the first hour of play, and steadily pulling away by the end of the third. Germany even tried the Barrage again, but it was definitely a 'Fool Me Once' kind of play.

  So, it must have been desperation that caused the disaster.

  "Wales One-Hundred and Seventy, Germany One-Hundred at the end of the fifth hour of play," Ginny reported. "If Germany are going to make a move, they better make it soon." She had no idea how much she was going to regret those off-the-cuff words.

  "The Quaffle is exchanging possession at a furious rate, with all six Chasers and all four Beaters in hazardous proximity to each other. The Referee is trying to get the scrum spread out, with little luck. The Seekers are both keeping high station... Wait! Thorsten Pfeffer goes into a dive! Has he seen the snitch? Cadwallader starts after him, but peels off before reaching the current level of play. Is Pfeffer attempting... YOUR ANGLE IS TOO SHARP! NO, DON'T LOOK BA... Oh! NO!"

  ***

  "Medi-Wizards are still treating Pfeffer. Word is they are trying to let the Skele-Grow stabilise him just a little before attempting to move him... yes, there they go."

  The crowd, who had been sitting silently on the edge of their seats, rose to respectfully applaud as Pfeffer was Levitated out of sight.

  The rest of the game was pure anticlimax. The capture of the Snitch eleven minutes later came as a relief. The teams assembled on the field, but there was no celebration, just worried faces going through the motions.

  Up in the Top Box, Ginny was listening to a handsome man whisper to her. The man's hair was beginning to turn slightly red, and he had apparently begun to freckle from the winter sun. Ginny noticed this and whispered forcefully back to the man. He gave his hands an appalled look, and buggered right off.

  Ginny cast Sonorous on herself, and spoke, "Folks, I have good news, especially for our German players and fans. Manager Franziska Faust has told the reporters assembled outside the infirmary that Seeker Thorsten Pfeffer is out of immediate danger, and is quite likely to make a complete recovery." Ginny paused for relieved cheering from crowd and players alike. She went on. "I don't know why she saw fit to add this. Thorsten has broken most of the bones in his body, and is currently under the impression that he is a budgerigar called Klaus!"

  In the midst of the cheering and laughter, Gwenog's voice rang out.

  "Well, good on him, then! Everybody raise a glass!"

  This was not a problem. Due to the Free Drinks, this was probably the most inebriated crowd in World Cup history. (The least inebriated was the time Ireland thoughtlessly brought Cluricanes as mascots).

  "Lechyd Dai to Klaus! And may his next flight have a MUCH better landing!"

  Many of the spectators chorused 'Lechydd Dai!' even if they had no idea what it meant.

  Gwenog continued in what she probably thought of as her 'Inside Voice.' "And to my own Bachgenaid a Merched here, let me say that I am Bloody Delighted!"

  Ginny was quite pleased to see the the majority German section had regained their good humour. Several of the German League teams and their supporters were celebrating as well.

  They were extra pleased, it seemed, if one of their players had been selected for the National Team. One of the banners she could see depending from the ridiculously tall swaying poles was definitely that of Münchner Wolpertinger. Ginny smiled at seeing it. She had gotten a fine, if somewhat alarming, interview with Beater Daniel Weston. He was the Azkhaban ex-convict that had been recruited right out of prison...