Chapter Text
There was a dangerous tension in the air, and Matthew really hoped no wands would be drawn in the next few minutes.
Then again, he doubted anyone would be drawing their wands when Headmistress McGonagall was standing at the front of the Transfiguration classroom, looking seriously down at the dozen or so students assembled in front of her. But there was definitely something that spelled trouble, considering they’d just had a rather vicious friendly between several members of the Quidditch team, just a few hours before that had ended in a broken nose, a sprained wrist, and a few school brooms in need of great repair.
Thankfully, Matthew’s fears were quelled within seconds.
“Thank you all for coming on time,” the Headmistress began. “Now, I’m sure you are all wondering why I have gathered you here today?”
“If this is about the Butter Incident, that was Lukas’ fault,” Mathias, who was sprawled over his desk, called out. He yelped as Berwald elbowed him. “Hey, I’m right and you know it!”
“...Mhm.”
“No, this isn’t about butter,” the Headmistress said, looking quite resigned at the mere thought of trying to figure out what the Danish boy and his friends had managed to do this time. “This is actually about Quidditch, and a very exciting opportunity for which I have selected the ten of you.”
Immediately, everyone snapped to attention. Mathias even sat up properly, and on Matthew’s other side Arthur Kirkland stopped fidgeting with a qul to look intently at the Headmistress.
“As you all know,” she continued, “the three largest wizarding schools in Europe are Durmstrang, Hogwarts, and Beauxbatons, and due to our relatively close proximity, we often collaborate on hosting competitions and tournaments such as the Potion-Making Competition and the Triwizard Tournament we’ve held in the past—which, of course, the latter was abolished for good reason. But we were recently sent a proposal from Ilvermorny in America.”
“Ilvermorny, as I should think you all know, is located in North America and is quite similar to Hogwarts. Their current headmaster has requested that a cross-school event take place at the end of the Spring semester—a Quidditch competition, to be precise. I, along with the heads of Durnstrang and Beauxbatons, had talks with the Ilvermorny Headmaster, and we’ve agreed that this would be a wonderful opportunity to try a collaboration between the four schools. Muggles, you see, invented things called ‘airplanes’, and so between Portkeys and these Muggle inventions it is very much possible to do such things in this day and age.”
“And…you want us to compete in this tournament?” fourth-year Gryffindor Tolys Laurinaitis asked.
“Precisely.”
“Hell yeah!” Mathias exclaimed, nearly smacking Berwald and Yao in the faces with his flailing arms. “Hey Tino, you think Ahlgren—”
“He’s still there?” Tino asked. Mathias nodded, and Tino’s face broke into a wide grin, the spark in his eye promising nothing good. “Oh, this’ll be fun!”
Yao Wang was nudging Kiku Honda. “I told you! See? My information, always correct and accurate.”
“Creep,” Kiku replied, and Yao grumbled something about him being rather rude.
“Alright, settle down, all of you!” Professor McGonagall finally called, and order was restored. “Now, I understand some of you have other obligations, so if you have any concerns, please talk to me right after this meeting. Madam Hooch will be in charge of your training, and there should not be conflicts with the already existing Quidditch match schedule for the rest of the semester, as the tournament is to take place over a weekend in May. However, attending the practice sessions will be mandatory, and as this should not be interfering with your studies, I expect that anyone who takes up this opportunity will need to keep their grades up. Understood?” the Headmistress asked, to varying degrees of acknowledgement.
“Good. That is all for now. Please come see me if you have questions, and owls will be sent with further details by tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”
And the meeting was concluded.
.
The first practice session of the Hogwarts Quidditch Tournament Team, the exact name a work in progress, was held a week later, on a Saturday evening at the Quidditch pitch. The only spectator was Lukas Bondevik, who’d come along to support (read: laugh at) his friends Tino, Mathias, and Berwald, who’d all accepted the invite to the team. Mathias had called him clingy.
Luckily, the Danish boy had been called to go change before Lukas could pull out his wand.
Now on the pitch itself was Headmistress McGonagall, Madam Hooch, a Quidditch ball case, and ten students spanning all four Houses and five years.
“I will now call the positions you have been chosen for,” the Headmistress announced. “This is not the final lineup, so if you are unhappy with your position, come talk to me or Madam Hooch.”
“Indeed,” Madam Hooch agreed. “Right—Yao Wang, Tino Väinämöinen, Kiku Honda—the three of you will be Chasers. I want Matthew Williams and Berwald Oxenstierna as Beaters, Basch Zwingli as Seeker, and Arthur Kirkland will be Keeper and Captain. Miss Braginsky and Mr. Densen, the two of you will be subs in case of any incidents during the tournament. Tolys Laurinaitis has also stated that while he wishes to focus on his schoolwork at the present, but if any of you happen to leave the team at any point during the next few months, he will step in to fill in the space.”
“B-Beater? Did I hear her right?” Matthew whispered to Kiku.
“Yes, Mr. Williams. Don’t protest—I’ve seen you and Mr. Jones hitting Bludgers at each other. Poppy complains enough about how much bruise cream she goes through between the two of you alone. Since we don’t have Mr. Braginsky with us, and Mr. Jones is not yet versed enough in the sport, Minerva and I decided that you would make an excellent Beater.”
“O—oh, okay then...”
“Right, then! All of you, on your brooms! We’ve got work to do, and it’s time to see what you all can accomplish as a team!” And so the first practice began.
.
“They’re really working us to the bone,” Tino complained. He, Berwald, Arthur, Francis, and surprisingly, Luca, were in a corner of the study room trying to work through the piles of essays they’d been assigned. “How on earth are you writing so fast, Ber?”
Berwald shrugged, and Tino leaned his head back as he groaned in frustration. “This is why I deal with animals. They don’t ask for three feet on uses of moonstones or exact specifics of each and every Summoning Charm.” He threw down his hand, and then swore as his quill snapped. Berwald silently handed him a new one.
Luca, who wasn’t actually doing any work, snickered as he popped a gumball into his mouth.
“Mon ami, please say you are joking about the moonstones,” Francis begged. The poor Gryffindor was barely halfway through his seemingly endless essay on the Giant Wars, and he had yet to practice his rather sorry Vanishing Spell.
“He is not,” Luca said.
Francis flopped backwards dramatically. Arthur elbowed him out of the way, fully concentrating on writing as he squinted at Berwald’s already-finished essay.
“Maybe I can finish Flitwick’s essay tomorrow?” Tino proposed.
Berwald raised an eyebrow. “We ‘ave practice t’morrow.”
“Ivan can suck it up for one day. His Locomotion Charm is leagues worse than mine, and we’re reviewing those next class.”
“Not ‘ufflepuff. McGon’gall’s. Ye can’t miss that.”
Tino did some more extremely colorful swearing, and stabbed his quill against the parchment once more. Berwald silently passed him a blotting cloth and a Muggle pen.
“How’s that going, by the way?” Luca asked over the sounds of Tino’s distress. “Between House practice and School practice, I mean?”
“Hell,” Arthur replied as he finally reached the end of his Charms essay. “Oh, finally that’s done. Francis, where’s—oi, give that back!”
And he dove at the French boy, who laughed as he held a textbook just out of reach.
.
Somehow, they made it through the year without anyone smashing anyone else’s head in with a Beater bat. Quite a feat, considering Mathias and Berwald had gotten quite the nasty habit of throwing things at each others’ heads and Matthew was starting to catch that particular habit as well. Even more amazingly, Madam Pomfrey hadn’t had too many extra visitors, although that may have been due to Quaffles and Bludgers getting knocked off-course by an exasperated Lukas whenever someone got a bit too carried away during practice. His ability to sense the impending disasters-in-the-making did not go unnoticed by the Headmistress nor Madam Hooch, and he was officially given the title of “peacekeeper”.
When Basch found out, he thought it ironic, considering he’d had to issue the Norwegian more than one reminder that one should not be dangling from the ceiling like a bat solely to scare students as they entered the Clocktower Courtyard the day after.
Arthur, too, thought it rather ridiculous considering Lukas was an enabler, and outside of practice, did nothing to stop his friends from causing mass chaos. But for the sake of his skull because blimey, that boy had good aim with a wand, he kept his mouth shut. Besides, Lukas was extremely helpful to have around when it came to studying for O.W.L.S.
But at long last, final exams were over and June was upon them. The day that the American, French, and northern European students were due to arrive, Hogwarts was abuzz with rumors and excitement.
“I will die if we have fifty Alfreds roaming the school for the entire week,” Yao stated to Ivan over breakfast. “One Alfred and one Mathew is more than enough, aru.”
“They’re using those things Muggles love, the televisions, so there will be less Alfreds and Matthews crawling in the halls,” Ivan said. “Little Raivis and Little Eduard were talking about it. It sounds very impressive, I shall ask for one to be installed in my house when I return home.”
“You do that, and tell me how it goes. It looks rather complicated,” Yao told him. Eduard, sitting not far away, quietly excused himself to the bathroom where he proceeded to howl with laughter for so long at the thought of Ivan watching sitcoms that Moaning Myrtle came out of her stall to ask what the matter was. (She too found it rather humorous, her family having had a television when she was alive.)
Back in the Great Hall hoever, there was notice of Ivan and Yao's conversation.
“It ain’t really,” his brother Leon mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “It’s real easy now. Plug a wire here, a cable there. A gnome could do it.”
Yao immediately forgot about Muggle inventions to scold him for chewing while talking, while Ivan took some bites from Yao’s omelette.
Ivan had been right about the conversation he’d heard, however. The tech-savvy Muggleborn Eduard had somehow worked out an arrangement with assistance from Raivis’ astoundingly large number of contacts in order to livestream the event, so those who wouldn’t be making the trip to Hogwarts could still enjoy the show. The students, faculty, and castle ghosts all watched as Eduard’s figure was a blur, racing from one place to another in the week leading up to the event.
Eduard wasn’t the only one doing laps around the castle, though. Arthur had to spend about half the day scolding the Nordic quintet, for various reasons. They’d found out, through Mathias’ connections, that certain choice players would be on the opposing team, and almost immediately, Tino had started sharpening throwing knives he’d pulled out of his shoes in the middle of the study room. An hour later, the prefect had found Mathias with a box of matches, and half an hour after that, Berwald was caught smuggling all number of things forbidden in Quidditch matches in his oversized fur coat to a practice.
“You’re not even trying anymore, for heaven’s sake,” Arthur groaned as Berwald disappointedly emptied out his pockets. “The lot of you, really. How on earth did you even think you were going to get someone to use a black-eye telescope? This isn’t the time to try and break the record for most Quidditch fouls!”
Berwald shrugged, not looking sorry at all, and Arthur made a note to go down to the kitchens right after and find himself a good cup of tea.
Even Emil didn’t go unscathed when Francis saw him take packages of goods labeled with the telltale “WW” with a serious look on his face during the lunch hour. The only one of the group to not be caught that day was Lukas, who to Arthur’s chagrin was taking full advantage of his ability to disappear at will, and so there was no evidence whatsoever for Arthur to use against him, although the blond was sure the Norwegian was up to no good. But alas, he had to admit that Lukas had won whatever game the quintet were playing, and so Arthur went back to studying plays in his common room, grumpily sispping his lukewarm tea with great annoyance.
They all arrived one right after the other.
The French were the first to arrive via the horseless carriages, having taken the Express to Hogsmeade from London. They were followed not long after by Durmstrang, who arrived via their magical ship, looking quite grand with a gleaming new paint job and a large sculpture on the front reminiscent of ancient Viking ships. Clearly they’d been busy since the last time they’d brought it to Hogwarts.
The Americans showed up via portkey to Hogsmeade, taking the boats across the lake guided by Hagrid. The Kirkland brothers had been enlisted to help him keep order, and goodness knows that Hagrid needed it with the amount of students there were.
McGonagall was yelling over the crowds, her wand pointed at her chin to amplify her voice.
“Beauxbatons—to the empty classrooms on the third floor! Follow Flitwick, short professor at the top of the stairs waving his hand at you ! Ilvermony—to the West Tower, follow Professor Sinistra, professor in the neon blue robes with the giant star on her hat! Durmstrang, to the spare rooms on the first floor, follow Professor Sprout with the flowerpot in her arms! Hogwarts, do not confuse our guests, this is not the time to ‘accidentally’ let someone into places that aren’t their assigned rooms. Wang, you are a prefect and the guest rooms are not in the seventh floor bathrooms–”
“Aiya,” Yao grumbled, but redirected the Durmstrang Quidditch team to the correct floor.
.
There were a couple of days before the start of the first tournament, to allow the American students time to get over their jet lag and for everyone to get accustomed with the pitch. While those in the competing teams spent much of the time in scheduled practice sessions, there was also plenty of downtime and, as it happened, Hogwarts had an excellent selection of books filled with records of past tournaments, the most famous plays, and Quidditch players themselves. A good number of the visiting students could be found enjoying what the school based in the birthplace of Quidditch had to offer, a fact Madam Pince was only slightly annoyed by. Popular frequenters were, of course, members of the schools’ Quidditch teams.
Oddly enough, rumors about the Hogwarts Library Ghost suddenly returned around this time. Books people were looking at suddenly disappeared from tables, quills and bags moved from one side of the room to the other, and the book cart occasionally rolled past with no visible person pushing it. A couple of students began leaving out “traps” for the ghost, ranging from squeaky toys on the floor to mousetraps in their bags.
“It’s like, really strange,” Feliks Lukasiewicz commented over breakfast the morning of the first match, having elbowed his way into the Ravenclaw table to get away from a group of rowdy underclassmen. “What kind of ghost can’t be seen?”
“Plenty of them,” Heracles Karpusi muttered through a yawn.
Feliks ignored him. “You, like, work in the library, don’t you Lukas? Have you, I dunno, like, seen anything totally weird lately?”
“Nope,” Lukas replied, before taking a bite from a sandwich held up to his face by Mathias. Lukas’ hands rested in his lap, fingers bandaged from a work injury. Thankfully, some paste Alfred had gotten from a recent Hogsmeade trip meant that by late afternoon he would be fine.
“Anyways,” Mathias changed the subject, “did you see the postings on the board outside? Of the schedule. We're going to play Beauxbatons today.”
“Oh, good. I do not feel like being a punching bag today,” Kiku commented. The team’s Chaser hadn’t said a word up until then, too focused on the calming draught he was adding to his tea. “Durmstrang may not be happy about having their library time interrupted.”
“Sucks to be them, I guess,” Mathias shrugged. “Should have appeased the Hogwarts Library Ghost.”
“Or maybe they should be more quiet in a place that is not meant to be a party house,” Lukas suggested. Mathias responded by offering him more sandwich, which, after a moment of hesitation, Lukas accepted.
“Exams are over. You, Madam Pince, and the Hogwarts Library Ghost will be fine for one week. Let ‘em have some fun,” Tino offered as he joined them. “Anyways, we should get ready. The match starts at one, and Elizabeta threatened to drag Tolys out of retirement and replace the whole lot of us if she doesn’t like our warmup.”
“Can she even do that?” Kiku questioned.
Tino shrugged. “Probably not, but do you really want to make her mad? Also Kiku, she said to mention you in particular when getting everyone.”
“Fair point. Why’d she throw Kiku under the bus anyways? Doesn’t she usually like beating up dumb jocks?” Mathias asked as he and Lukas stood up.
“She said something about being a bit too busy between beating up Gilbert, beating up everyone else in House games, and being a Prefect,” Arthur offered as he joined the group. “I expect she’s decided on actually passing her classes, unlike certain people.”
“Hey! I heard that!” Alfred Jones yelled from the other side of the hall.
“You were meant to,” Arthur called back, before turning to walk out the doors of the Great Hall.
“Who’s going to tell him Alfred and I were the only ones to get the bonus questions on our History of Magic exam?” Matthew snickered to his classmates.
Mathias hid his laugh by ducking into Lukas’ shoulder. Feliks looked vaguely amused, while Lukas simply rolled his eyes. Kiku took the opportunity to finish his meal.
“Let him cook,” Tino advised. “It can be a nice surprise for everyone if your grades come back well. Now stop laughing and go. It’s much too early to have Liza come after you all with a baseball bat.”
.
The first match of the series was between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, the schools closest to each other and therefore with students ready to get on the field. Eduard was only mildly annoyed at having to share his commentary box. But Louis Gardner, the Beauxbatons commentator, shared some pastries with him, and the next thing everyone knew the two were best friends. Francis Bonnefoy complained loudly that there was clear bias going on because he’d offered Eduard sweets before and had been turned down quite rudely, but few paid him any mind.
“From Hogwarts, the home team! Kirkland, Oxenstierna, Williams, Wang, Väinämöinen, Honda, and Zwingli!”
“De Beauxbatons—Gardner, Boucher, Roux, Richard, d’Albret, Blanchet, et Florelle!”
The ball was thrown, and then they were off.
Matthew knew French, both Canada and France versions. The other team did not know this. So it was to the Beauxbaton team’s great surprise when their pincer maneuver was interrupted by a Bludger smacking into Jean-Jacque d’Albret’s broom handle.
“Vas à gauche, Claire, I will confuse!” Jean-Phillip Blanchet called as their third Chaser tried to steady himself. Claire flew off, and Jean-Phillip flew straight, hoping to scare Kiku who had caught the Quaffle.
“On your left!” Matthew hissed, and Kiku swerved in time to avoid Claire’s attempt to grab the ball.
“Quoi?!” Claire yelled in surprise. “‘Ow in ze world—?!”
“Honda dodges Richards! Damn, where was that kind of perception in the last House Cup game?” Eduard called out. Kiku ignored him, choosing not to think about how he’d been bodyslammed by a distracted Luca Vissar in the final match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.
He passed to Yao, who flew toward the goals.
“Wang enters the scoring area!”
“Gardner, Starfish-et-Stick! Starfish! Et! Sticke!”
“Quaffle is thrown—”
“-et il est bloqué! ‘Ogwarts does not score!”
Groans from the Hogwarts students were very audible. Tino gave Yao a consolation pat on the back, and Yao grumbled something in Chinese that probably had to do with eggs. Tino thought it was an insult of some sort, because he was pretty sure he heard him say it during a previous practice that hadn’t gone particularly well.
Kiku was first to grab the Quaffle and immediately flew off, not wanting to waste any time. Yao and Tino flew circles around him, until Matthew came up beside Tino and whispered something that made the Finnish boy suddenly fly up into the air as Matthew sent a Bludger hurling towards the French Beaters, Gabriel Roux and Isabelle Boucher.
“‘E knew!” Isabelle exclaimed with horror. “Est-il un Legilimens?!” Her teammate didn’t answer and smacked the Bludger back at the smirking Hogwarts student, who barrel-rolled out of the way. Berwald sent the Bludger spinning towards the French Seeker Peony Froelle, a girl with dark hair and a very determined look who was giving Basch a run for his money.
Louis turned to Tino, covering his mic. “Does Väinämöinen have…?”
“If he did, he wouldn’t be failing Arithmancy when he sits next to me,” Eduard replied. Louis snickered, before uncovering his mic to mention a rather spectacular spiral dive by Peony. Basch cursed loud enough as he flew past the commentary box a few seconds later that the microphones picked it up.
An hour in, the score was 50-20 Hogwarts, and the Snitch was yet to be caught. The Beauxbatons team was quite annoyed that the Hogwarts team appeared to be mind-readers, and the Hogwarts team was annoyed that Basch just could not stop being conned by Peony Florelle, Basch himself included.
“Time out!” Arthur yelled, and both teams breathed sighs of relief as they flew off the pitch.
The moment they were in the locker room, Arthur turned to a pissed-off Basch. “What’s up with you? You love money so much that you can usually spot gold from a mile away!” he hissed.
“I hate spending it,” Basch corrected. “And it’s that other Seeker! She’s worse than the time Francis subbed for Honda! Even the pasta-loving Mario plays more fair, and he can’t keep his ass on his broom half the time!”
He narrowed his eyes at Matthew. “And hey, why’s everyone else doing so well anyways? Every other time you pass someone, they shoot an impossible goal.”
Matthew’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Woah, eh, don’t point fingers at me! They yell their plays in French. I live with Francis, remember?”
“Oh so it wasn’t mind-reading,” Tino commented. “I was kinda convinced for a minute there.”
“Well, now would be a really good time for you to learn Legilimency,” Arthur told him. “Or for Basch to get some glasses, because an hour’s about to turn into two and a record if this keeps on.”
And with that, the team returned to the field just as time as called.
Unbeknownst to them, the French beater Gabriel Roux had been behind a wall listening, and hurried back to his team with grave news.
“Take out Williams!” he whispered to the others. “Il parle français!”
The next part of the match began with Matthew frantically dodging Bludgers. The Beauxbatons team also refrained from saying much of anything when Matthew was nearby.
“I think they figured it out,” he panted to Berwald. “Cover me—I’m useless!”
Unfortunately, with the speed they were going at, Berwald thought Matthew had said he’d figured something out and to cover him while he went under. He sent the Bludger flying, and almost hit Kiku instead.
“Watch it!” Yao yelled at him, then nearly collided with a frantic Matthew who had a rather temperamental Bludger on his heels.
It was not going well for Hogwarts, and with the absolute turmoil going on with half the team, the Beauxbatons Chasers were able to score several times. Half an hour later, the score was 80-60 Beauxbatons, and Basch was looking rather pissed by everything.
It all culminated in the Hogwarts’ team attempt at a power play, during which Tino, at the front of the formation, had to do a twirl to avoid an oncoming Bludger. He lost his grip, knocked into Basch, who was headed the other way, and barely caught onto Berwald’s left leg. Berwald, for his part, managed to keep them both from slipping, but found himself mimicking the Sloth Grip Roll, Tino still hanging onto his ankle.
“Nice view,” the Finn gasped out. Berwald grunted, broom handle in a death grip.
In the commentary box, Eduard’s head was in his hands and Louis was patting his back. Just below them, Headmistress McGonagall and Madame Maxine were staring at the scene with identical looks of shock.
“This isn’t the Broomstick Acrobatics Show, you gits!” Arthur yelled from the scoring area, then swerved as Tino’s broom flew past him into one of the towers of the stadium. “Oi, time out!”
The signal was given, and both teams started to fly towards their ends of the pitch, the dangling duo of Berwald and Tino being helped along by Yao, Kiku, and presumably Matthew (though if he was there, he was in the middle of the group and out of sight).
“Get ahold of yer team, Englishboy!” Jean-Phillip Blanchet snickered as he flew past to rejoin the Beauxbatons players.
“Tell your Beaters to stop targeting mine!” Arthur retorted, before turning to yell at his team again when he noticed—
“Basch!”
Basch had one of his hands cupped over his nose, steering his broom one-handedly while seeming to concentrate very hard on his face. Arthur narrowed his eyes, and flew closer to investigate.
“Oi! Did you get a bloody nosebleed?” he barked at the Gryffindor. “Shall I call Madame Pomfrey?”
“Call—ref—” Bash managed, before going no-hands to keep whatever was up with his face from escaping, and oh, wait a moment—
“Ref!” Arthur yelled. “Quick—I think Zwingli got the Snitch with his nose!”
“WHAT?!” Yao exclaimed, and momentarily dropped the handle of Berwald’s broom, sending the two and Kiku crashing down the last few feet to the ground. “No way! When did he catch it? That—”
“The Snitch has been caught!” one of the three referees keeping an eye on the games announced. “The Snitch was caught by Basch Zwingli of Hogwarts!”
“HOGWARTS WINS! HOLY MERLIN’S POLKA-DOT UNDERPANTS! Please stop giving me heart attacks, I’m too stressed for this…” Eduard’s voice sounded over the stadium, repeated by Louis in French. Groans from Beauxbatons students were overtaken by the cheers of the home team’s supporters.
“Yay,” Tino called weakly from under Berwald, before looking to his left and blinking rapidly. “Oh. That’s a sight. That’s a really juicy—”
Berwald covered the Hufflepuff’s eyes with his large hand, face flushed red. “Not goin’ there.”
“You never told me how ripped you were! Where did you get those abs from—”
“And here I thought Berwald was the horny one,” Kiku muttered to Arthur. The Brit, for his part, merely sighed as Yao gushed about young love despite being only two years older and very much single.
.
While Madame Pomfrey checked over the Hogwarts players, the referees went over footage from Eduard’s livestream on the chance Basch had caught the Snitch after the time-out was called. But son it was announced that Basch had indeed caught the Snitch right before Arthur had called time, and thus, the point went to Hogwarts.
Lukas may or may not have spent the evening with his wand hidden behind a book, deflecting jinxes headed for various Hogwarts team members from salty students. Meanwhile, Eduard may or may not have spent his evening explaining how the livestream worked for what he swore was the tenth time in a week to curious students in an attempt to debunk the nearly-rising theory that Basch had been keeping a Snitch up his nose the entire game.