the snape family was delayed by a few matters—although James's England national team failed to make the finals, he, as a star Seeker, had received several internal tickets from the organizers. He, Sirius, and Lupin had been lingering at the Snapes' doorstep, and Severus, with a dark expression, finally managed to drive them away using the threat of Potions.
(Considering Godric's Hollow is located in the southwest of Britain and Godric Gryffindor came from a wild moorland village in the west of England, this story classifies James Potter, who grew up in Godric's Hollow, as English.)
When they finally reached their destination, they found the once-empty field already covered with dense, colorful tents.
These tents came in all shapes and sizes; some looked like palace towers, others like forest cabins. The materials were just as varied, ranging from gauze curtains as thin as a cicada's wing to thick, sturdy iron-sheet pavilions.
This year's Quidditch World Cup final would feature the Scotland national team against the powerhouse from Canada. It was essentially a civil war between the Commonwealth mainland and a colony, so the entire campsite was filled with a heated and tense atmosphere.
Looking around, flags of red and white intermingled with blue and white everywhere. The vast majority of Wizards from Great Britain supported the Scotland team, and the snape family was no exception.
Interestingly, if the England national team had made the finals, the British Wizards might not have been so united; Wizards from Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland would likely have gone to support Canada.
Harley wore a blue robe embroidered with iconic Scottish patterns, clutching a heavy bag filled with chocolate balls and Pink Coconut Ice from Honeydukes.
She had been given too much pocket money by her family over the last few years; if she didn't buy more snacks, she wouldn't know how to spend those piles of Galleons. (The Weasley family: Is this even human speech?)
At this moment, Harley was wide-eyed, staring curiously at the Non-verbal magic Severus was casting.
With a gentle wave of his hands, an unremarkable grey tent slowly rose.
This tent looked plain and lacked any distinguishing features, appearing particularly out of place compared to the beautifully decorated tents nearby.
"Dad, why is our tent so ugly?"
Harley couldn't help but complain, poking the canvas of the tent with her finger, which came away with a bit of dust.
"Look at theirs! Not only do they have singing silver fountains, but they also have glowing magical lanterns! I want a pretty tent like that..."
As she spoke, Harley pointed nearby. Not far away, the Malfoy Family's white tent had a green flag with a silver snake fluttering at the top, and a House-elf was using a Levitation Charm to set up crystal chandeliers.
Snape's black robes swayed in the breeze as he adjusted the defensive charms at the tent entrance. Hearing Harley's request, he glanced contemptuously at the neighboring Malfoy Family and said:
"Harley, the snape family has no need for such flashy tents. This one was specially made for me by someone Dumbledore commissioned. In terms of value, even three Malfoy tents couldn't be traded for this one."
Lily poked her head out of the tent and said, "Severus, don't be so hard on the child. The World Cup only happens once every four years."
She gently ruffled Harley's hair, her green eyes filled with a smile. "But Harley is right, our tent does need some decoration—at least a decent fireplace, or it'll be cold at night."
Severus pursed his lips, feeling a bit aggrieved. He wouldn't dare be hard on Harley; he was just stating facts.
Just then, a burst of silvery laughter rang out, carrying a certain practiced elegance.
Harley turned her head curiously to see Lucius Malfoy leading his family toward them.
Narcissa Malfoy wore a blue and white silk robe, the diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkling; Lucius Malfoy walked in the center with his head held high, fiddling with a snake-headed cane.
And walking at the very front was a girl about the same age as Harley.
She had long platinum-blonde hair, draped over her shoulders and combed meticulously.
Her eyes were a cold grey-blue, and with her arched swan-like neck, she looked like someone not to be trifled with.
"Severus, you were almost late," Lucius greeted him with a smile.
"I was delayed for a while by a few annoying dogs on my way out."
Severus stopped his work to reply. On the surface, both men were exchanging pleasantries with friendly faces, but Harley noticed that Severus did not relax in front of Lucius; his back remained tense as if he were guarding against something.
"Professor Snape, good day."
The Malfoy girl lifted her skirt and curtsied elegantly to Snape. "I thought a scholar such as yourself wouldn't be interested in a crude sport like Quidditch."
Her gaze swept over Harley's red hair, her lips curling slightly. "This must be your daughter, Harley Snape—hello, Miss Snape. I am Alexandra Malfoy. I hope to see you in the Slytherin common room next year."
Harley raised an eyebrow; she had heard that name before.
When James had brought the Marauders to their house for a forced dinner, he had once said: 'The Malfoy daughter is ten times more terrifying than her old man. She's like a venomous snake encrusted with diamonds—shiny, hard, and poisonous.'
Sirius had added: 'That child Alexandra is practically a carbon copy of my crazy cousin—Bellatrix—when she was little. Harley, remember to stay away from her once you start school.'
"Miss Malfoy," Harley replied neither submissively nor overbearingly, "I believe a truly excellent Wizard doesn't care which house they are sorted into. All four houses of Hogwarts have long histories—I mean, even if I were sorted into Hufflepuff, I would still be the best among my peers."
Alexandra frowned slightly, reaching up to fiddle with the family crest on her chest—a small habit she had when displeased.
She said in a low voice, "Oh, if you feel offended, then I apologize. I was simply speaking the truth and meant no ill will. I truly hope Miss Snape can be recognized by the noble Slytherin, rather than becoming a reckless Gryffindor, or worse." (Hufflepuff:???)
She looked directly at Harley, her grey-blue eyes like two bottomless frozen lakes.
"I am planning to meet with some friends. If you are interested, you may come with me—incidentally, I feel that rather than friends from the Muggle world, you should get to know more people of noble status. My friends are all pure-blood Wizards from the sacred twenty-eight families."
(Please cherish the Miss Malfoy who is still putting on airs; she's about to have a total breakdown and turn into a comedic character.)
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