//------------------------------//
// Chapter 48:  World Cup 
// Story: The Accidental Invasion 
// by computerneek 
//------------------------------//

Professor Dumbledore sighed, looking up at Lucius Malfoy.  The man was visiting him in his office during the summer as a representative of the School Board.  “A…  Suggestion,” he repeated.
“Yes,” Lucius nodded.  “We’re of the, er, nearly unanimous opinion that you know more about the situation here than us, so we decided to make a suggestion rather than an order or recommendation.”  He sighed.  “I’m not going to tell you who the dissenter was, but I can say it wasn’t me- even though, thanks to Silversong, I probably know the most out of anyone on the Board- but she isn’t even on the Student Instructor Program Management Team!  As I recall, there was only one British student on that team?”
Dumbledore nodded.  “Yes.  About a year ago, they promoted Hailey Potter to the Team Lead.”
He burst into laughter.  “Team Lead?” he asked, restraining his guffaws with apparent difficulty.  “Of course they’d make the Goddess of Reports the team lead!”
“She would appreciate avoiding any aspersions of godhood,” Dumbledore informed him calmly.
He sobered quickly.  “Yes, yes, she would, wouldn’t she?  And, well…”  He sighed.  “Our suggestion won’t really help with that, but it’s up to you to take it or leave it.”  He looked earnestly at Dumbledore, who nodded his acknowledgement.  “Our…  Suggestion.  You are aware that the Student Instructor Program Management Team has produced accurate predictions of how any given Professor was going to turn out within the first week each year?”
Dumbledore nodded again.  “I am.”  He glanced sideways, at a very tall stack of pages- the most recent weekly report- still sitting on the corner of his desk.
“Well…  We wanted to, ah, suggest, granting them- all or in part- oversight over your professors.”
Dumbledore nodded.  “Particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts, with the track record there- though I’m not expecting any trouble this year.”  He rubbed his chin with a finger.  “Hmm…  Though, as much as I trust Alastor, it would probably be good to keep him on his toes.”





Hailey smiled as she sat down at the dinner tables the Weasleys had erected in their garden.  Bill and Charlie Weasley, Hermione, and Sadarina were all there as well; the Quidditch Cup was coming up, though Hailey couldn’t fathom what was exciting about watching fourteen identical brooms zoom in circles for a few minutes.  Besides, according to Hermione, it was basically a done deal in Ireland’s favor- their chasers were like Angelina Johnson compared to the Bulgarian chasers, though they expected Angelina would still take them by storm.  Then of course, Victor Krum- or was it Viktor?  She could never remember how he spelled it.  But however he did, he was a decent seeker- but not so good that he might catch the Snitch before Ireland got too large of a lead.
To top that off, not a single Equestrian was attending- and Bonbon had told her why.  Equestrians didn’t believe in national sports- and as for herself, she’d used her newly-trained abilities as a high-level Seer to promise Hailey a 170-160 score in Ireland’s favor, despite Krum getting the snitch for Bulgaria.  So, feeling it would be of ‘bad sport’- or was it poor sport, she wasn’t sure- for her to bet, and unable to even imagine watching something that would be as boringly one-sided as her own matches at Hogwarts (which already had only half as many spectators as matches that didn’t involve Gryffindor), she’d chosen to sit it out.  She and Sadarina would still be going to the campsite, but would not be going with the rest of the Weasleys to actually see the match itself.
She’d be able to relax at the campsite with Sadarina, who simply didn’t care about sports, and maybe even teach her the Pinkie Transform before she started at Hogwarts the coming year.  She’d already done her Hogwarts shopping, and dealt with the rush of students; the proprietors had plenty of help in this year, so it had taken even less time than usual, despite fully thirteen thousand, three hundred and thirteen additional students.  That had been fortunate, what with the Tournament approaching; Dumbledore had tapped her to help him prepare the School for the Triwizard Tournament, and Bonbon had given her a number of predictions to help her along- though it felt more like she was testing out her new skills.  Still, though, they had been immensely helpful.  She’d gotten more than just dress robes- the female version of which were literally dresses, like wizards thought all exposed clothing should end in ‘robe’, else be an accessory such as a hat or cloak.  Even the male version wasn’t far from a dress.
Then another letter had come in from Dumbledore earlier that day, and she’d had to laugh.  Dumbledore had given her, and only her, as the Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead, the authority to discipline and reward his professors- an authority she already had over the entire Student Instructor Program.  It was an authority she didn’t expect to use; he’d brought her with him when he visited his old friend Alastor Moody to ask him to take up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for the year, over a month prior.
Speaking of the Program, he’d also given her, the Management Team, and all Head Student Instructors the authority to give and take points.  He must’ve forgotten that the Team Lead was still part of the team, and all Head Student Instructors were already automatically on the management team.
Finally, she looked down the table, to where Percy was speaking to Mr. Weasley.  “As you know we’ve got another big event to organize right after the World Cup,” he said loudly, and cleared his throat, looking down at them.  He turned back to Mr. Weasley, and raised his voice some more.  “You know the one I’m talking about, Father?  The Top Secret one?”
She sighed, and rolled her eyes.
“He’s been trying to get us to ask what that is ever since he started work,” Ron hissed sideways at Hailey and Hermione.
Hailey sighed, took a breath, and spoke.  “Are you talking about the Tournament, Percy?”
Percy did a perfect spit take of his elderflower wine.  Fred and George both cheered.
“Have you any idea how much work we went through to keep it secret through the arrangements,” Hailey went on, “only to have you blabbing about it here?”
“Ahhh…” Percy muttered, blinking owlishly at her.
“Pass the potatoes, please?” Hailey asked, ignoring Ron’s inquisitive look.  Was the Ministry really that careless that they’d trust someone to keep the secret just because they said they would?  She’d had to go through all sorts of magical oaths before she’d ever learned of Bonbon’s profession and become the management team lead the year prior!  As a matter of fact, ever since that time, it was technically her profession too.  She had access to the same secret resources and facilities as Bonbon did, though she hadn’t really known about it until Bonbon had used them as a training location that wouldn’t reveal her ascension the moment she removed her cloak.  Bonbon was coming along well on learning the Pinkie Transform, but she still had a ways to go on the Granger Warp- and true to the leaderboard, she was by far the fastest of the entire Agency to learn either one.
Except, perhaps, herself.





Hailey was glad she’d come with the Weasleys to the World Cup match.  It wasn’t the match- no, that was bound to be so boring she wasn’t going to attend.  But the people in the campsite, the tents…  They were all so amusing.  The Weasleys were almost alarmingly good at looking like muggles, so they had a couple of shabby tents that Hermione called ‘TARDIS-like’.
But the other tents…  Oh, the other tents.  Many of them had multiple floors or windows; at least one had an attached birdbath and live flamingos tethered out front.  The Bulgarians had a disappointed picture of Krum attached to all their tents- and for as much fuss as the Ministry was making about it, in Hailey’s opinion, the Irish group had the most muggle-looking of all the decorated tents.  She’d mentioned that to a passing Ministry wizard, so hopefully the Irish people shouldn’t have too much trouble with their inanimate, non-magical decorations attached to ordinary-looking tents.
Then there was a Ministry wizard arguing with an old man in a flowery nightgown by the tap in the corner of the field.  Hailey actually interrupted the argument, to tell the Ministry worker that while cross-dressing was a bit unusual, it was still a perfectly muggle thing to do, so he was probably better off chasing the bright purple sparks thrown up by an obviously magical fire.  The wizard- ‘Archie’, which struck Hailey as a house-elf name- had been egged on by her words- not that it mattered, he hadn’t been moving an inch already.
Nobody here seemed to be very good at dressing like muggles.  One of the greeting team that had met them after the portkey brought them halfway across the country had been wearing a kilt and a poncho- an interesting combination at the best of times, and one that had caught the attention of a few of the muggles as well.  It was like even the Ministry had only a limited grasp on what was ‘muggle-like’ and what wasn’t!
“Perhaps they should have hired the muggles to help out,” Hailey commented cheerfully, as she and Sadarina walked back to the tents with the kettle, having filled it at the tap.
Sadarina giggled.  “Or us,” she answered.  “Every few years, some muggles show up at Azkaban, and we have no choice but to turn them.  We let them keep their memories- though they’re often the fastest to become husks.  There’s twelve right now, and they are highly amused.”  She giggled again.
“Is that why Azkaban has such a fearsome reputation amongst the muggles?” she asked.  They were getting close to the Weasley tents, but were still out of earshot- especially for their soft voices.
She nodded.  “Yeah.  Nobody ever returned- but now they can.”
“Ahh, there you are, Hailey!” Fred called suddenly, waving.  “Think you can start the fire?”
She raised an eyebrow.  “Wasn’t Mr. Weasley doing that?” she asked.
“Dad’s having fun with the matches,” George supplied.  “Come and see.”
Hailey stepped around the tents and placed the kettle next to the haphazard pile of sticks placed on the ground.  George was right- Mr. Weasley was having no success at all at lighting the fire, despite having apparently demolished half an entire package of matches.
She sighed.  “First of all, it’s never going to light like that,” she told him, and crouched down to position the sticks into a much better shape- there had been far too much air between them, a match flame would’ve gone out quickly.  She then used a knife- she didn’t tell him it wasn’t really a knife, but a magical construct she’d conjured on the spot- to make some tinder to help light it.  Finally, she showed Mr. Weasley how to properly ignite a match, and how to light a campfire.  It wasn’t long before they had a veritable bonfire going.





“Ludo Bagman,” Hailey barked suddenly, rising to her feet.  He had come to chat with Mr. Weasley- then Mr. Crouch had come along, and Bagman had started teasing Crouch about ‘that other thing coming up’.
Bagman flinched away from her tone as he looked up at her.  “What?”
“Have you any idea how hard it was to keep it quiet all through the preparations?  Have you any idea how much effort it took to maintain the secrecy?”
“Ah-!”
She took a deep breath, and as she let it out, he shrank away from her.  Crouch watched silently.  “You were the one that decided it should stay secret until the school year begins, were you not?  Then you go around, teasing us about it.  You remember why it needs to stay secret, do you not?”
“Ah-!  Well-!  I-!”
“I am appalled at how the Ministry has handled this secret.  Now, you will hold your tongue and stop teasing us about the Tournament or I will have you up in front of Minister Fudge explaining why everyone found out about it.  You hear me?”
The color drained from his face.  Mr. Crouch kept a professionally severe expression, but there was a flash of amusement in his eyes as she backed Bagman down.
She suddenly looked up at Percy.  “And that goes for you too, Percy.”
“Percy?” Crouch muttered, one eyebrow raised.
Percy blushed scarlet and half-bowed, half-nodded his agreement.
Crouch blinked.  “Oh.”
“H-How do you know about-?” Bagman began.
She folded her arms.  “I am the Hogwarts Student Instructor Program Management Team Lead,” she told him.  “It fell to me to make a fair amount of the arrangements, thanks to the numbers of students of which I am sure you are aware?”
He nodded slowly.  “Ahh.”
“On top of that, I also have several good friends that happen to be very powerful seers- so I already know who all five contestants will be.”
“Five-!?” Bagman gasped.
She nodded solemnly.  “Yes.  Five.”
“What tournament?” Fred asked.
“Pass the marshmallows, please, I’d like to make some S’mores,” she answered, sitting back down and turning her back to Bagman.
“What’s a so-more?” Bill asked.
“Oh they’re amazing,” Hermione said immediately, pulling a box of graham crackers and a package of giant marshmallows from her backpack.
“It’s pronounced S’more,” Hailey told Bill.  “Like you’re saying ‘some more’ as a contraction.  And Hermione’s right, you’re all in for a muggle campfire treat.”  She slipped the chocolate from her own bag as she spoke, before skewering the marshmallow Hermione was offering her on a poker.
Mr. Weasley did his level best to bounce on the balls of his feet in excitement while still sitting on the hard ground.