Chapter Text
Harry refused to allow the appearance of the Malfoys to ruin his good mood as he, the Weasleys, Hermione along with Amos and Cedric Diggory made their way to the upper levels, unlike the seated placements of the Top Box, reserved for the more 'important wizards and witches.'
The stadium was a breathtakingly, modernized colosseum that hovered over the pitch like an intentionally unfinished dome, swarming with fans from all over the world to view the finals of the Quidditch World Cup. White flags with red circles clashed with tricolored — green, white, and orange — ones as brilliant lights lit the night for the game, spotlights swaying in apparent randomness.
Beside him, Cedric grinned crookedly as Harry could not help but reciprocate one back, the enthusiasm in the air was just overwhelming, the twins jeering loudly as they donned Irish fanfare. Then as if responding to the crowds' climax of cheer, arrived the Irish.
"It's the Irish!" Fred cried out, his enormous hat shaking violently as the teen pointed at the young men on brooms. "There's Troy!"
"And Mullet!" George could not allow his twin to take all the fun.
"And Moran!" And Fred would not be his twin if he did not respond.
The twins continued in their fanboying of the Irish Representative Team, as they made their entrance. Donned in their country's colors of green and white, consecutive tails of the colors followed the players as they flew past the crowd's roars, before sharply turning skyward. Splitting up, the smoke cleared as an array of fireworks appeared in the place of the players, forming a sparkly show of a dancing leprechaun, the official mascot. The crowd was now deafening as Harry found himself smiling with a grin that threatened to split his face, as chorused shouts echoed in his ears.
"Ireland! Ireland! Ireland!"
Flitting their way through the escalated crowd, the Irish team held themselves in a comfortable position in the air, basking the attention. Before Harry could join in the shouts, he was cut off by George, who met his twin's mirrored expression to which Harry could define as only admiration and respect.
"Here they come! The Generation of Miracles from Japan!"
And arrive, they did.
Silvery white smoke enveloped the once happily dancing leprechaun as a set fireworks in the form of fearsome dragons took it's place, each an individual color as the six players of the Japanese Team arrived, the crowd roaring in a shout once more.
In a mid-roar that bordered an arrogant swagger was the largest dragon, a navy blue with a tall and clearly muscled player on it's back, his smirk prominent on his tanned complexion. Beside him, was a golden dragon that appeared to leer in jovial amusement over the roaring crowd, basking in the attention as it's rider waved an enthusiastic hand. Followed as if to frown in disorder of his brethren's actions, an emerald dragon sniffed with an upturned snarl, it's rider perfectly mirroring his dragon as he glared through rectangular glasses. Adjacent to the emerald beast, loomed a violet brother of enormous size, just as large as the navy one; it's rider just as surprising in appearance as Harry could have sworn he saw the player snack on a bag of potato chips. Hovering over all of them, was a majestic ruby dragon, eyes all-knowing despite his small form, as his rider appeared unamused.
Harry could not help but notice several things.
They were young.
Appearing by the highest estimate to be his age, the Gryffindor Seeker noted this with startling observation. And that they only had five members. From what he was able to recall, seven members were required to play Quidditch. And also that each the players had hair matching their respective dragon. Weird.
Donned in white, black, and red robes of their respective positions; the team of five broke off, appearing to be riding on their respective dragons over the illusion of their brooms with a wave from the red-head; across the stadium as the crowds went wild, the colorful dragons setting the stadium alight in a rainbow of colors.
"Who are they?" Ginny shouted, as her twin older brothers looked at her incredulously, offended that they shared blood with one who did not possess such knowledge. In the shouting cheers of what Harry understood as a different language that he obviously did not speak, Fred and George shouted:
"They, sis, are the best Quidditch team of our generation!"
"The youngest team to hold the titles in the Champion's League and their national tournament for three consecutive years, they are known as the Generation of Miracles!"
And at their words, the five players gathered as their showy entrance of dragons faded, their postures rigid yet collected with an eagerness that Harry was able to relate to all too well. Adrenaline to get the game started.
But something else that he was unable to recognize. A crazed, almost cold glint in the eyes; as if they had an inkling of the results. But the game had yet to even start.
Harry felt a shiver dance over his spine. Did they somehow know?
"Good evening!" Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic greeted from the Top Box, his voice amplified by the wand by his throat. "As the Minister of Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the finals of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup! Let the match… Begin!"
And with the release of the Golden Snitch, the finals began.
Unknown to a majority of the encircled stadium, there was a sixth dragon as dark as the night as it's small form encircled his master comfortingly, wise sky blue orbs half-lidded as he watched his brothers bask in the attention; he, like his master, was content to watch his brethren bask in the light. Him in the shadows.
A thin smirk that could cut glass spread over Akashi Seijuurou's lips, his red locks dancing in the night wind as he spoke through a small light bluetooth, as the captain had assured all of his team was equipped with, his left eye glowing ominously. After all, his orders were absolute, regardless of their previous year's events of Kuroko's victory in the Winter Cup. They were still effective and to be obeyed without question.
"Daiki, Ryota, Shintarou; continue to score goals until we have managed a suitable lead. Maintain with Plan A until the end and if needed, we will use Plan C. I will coordinate with each of you. Atsushi, Tetsuya will do the same for you."
"Very well." Midorima raised his glasses, hovering over the middle of the pitch before diving to avoid a Beater that smacked one of the opposing team's Chasers.
"Alrighty, Akashicchi~!" Kise nodded happily, as he flitted by the captain.
"Gotcha!" Aomine Daiki grinned wolfishly as he zig-zagged across the field, leaving the opposing team in the blur that was the fifteen-year-old.
"Daiki. Throw the Quaffle upward."
Coming to the goal posts, the almost misleadingly ebony, navy-blue ace smirked before throwing up the Quaffle; instead of the expected action to score, for the blonde to catch, smacking the ball into the center post while the opposing Keeper scowled at Aomine, who grinned with a hint of mock disapproval at the opponent to allow himself to be distracted.
With the Irish with the Quaffle, Akashi watched as Midorima and Kise followed with an alarming speed, flitting to surround the ginger player. Holding up his bat, the ruby haired captain nodded. With a sounding crack, the ace of the team smacked the Bludger to graze the opposing Chaser with the Quaffle, dropping it into the hands of Shintarou.
And with that, the score was now 260 to 100, in the Miracles' favor. All according to plan.
"Your left, Murasakibara-kun."
"Left, Kuro-chin?" The giant glanced at his right hand.
"The one that you use to hold chopsticks, you idiot." Midorima cut in as the other five of them could hear the pout in the purple giant's huff followed by the thud of said Bludger as it was knocked aside by the back of the broom; the roar of the crowd loud as Midorima shot another goal.
"That's mean, Mido-chin. Don't make me want to crush you too."
"It was intentional, you oaf. I told you, no snacking when we are on the pitch! Or the court for that matter!" The green haired sharpshooter growled as he ignored the look from the opposing team at his yelling, sure that their European opponents could not understand anyway.
And sure enough, the Keeper of the Japanese Team was munching on some maibou.
"Atsushi, I told you could eat only during the opening. Put the snacks away. You can resume your snacking after we win." Akashi scolded as the giant wizard complied after being assured that the captain would treat him to a new set of maibou after a disgruntled pout.
Knocking aside another Bludger to incapacitate another Beater, the captain turned his attention to another player as his opponent fell to the earth, unconcerned since he was merely thrown off his broom. It wouldn't kill him.
As if he would commit a murder in front of so many witnesses. That was just sloppy.
"Tetsuya, have you found the Snitch?"
"Yes, Akashi-kun." A sky-blue haired boy replied, perched higher than a majority of the players; his low presence allowing him to be completely hidden from spectators and other players alike. "I believe that we are in a suitable lead for us to win the World Cup. Although I would advise Akashi-kun to decide quickly. The other Seeker is near."
"Keh." Aomine scoffed as he dodged a Bludger in a Sloth Grip Roll, scowling as the opposing Chasers flew past him.
Akashi contemplated for a moment before replying in agreement with the shadow as Murasakibara blocked an attempt to the center goal post; their captain catching the rebound, Kuroko appearing to the visible world as he chased after a small golden ball, the opposing Seeker flitting after him before suddenly losing sight of the shadow.
And with a flit to the bare posts of the Irish after a pass to Shintarou, the moment the Quaffle was thrown in by their sharpshooter, the game was finished with a score of 410 - 100, the captain sat back as the events unfolded.
With the Generation of Miracles' and Japan's victory. Just as expected.
"Who was the Seeker?" Harry asked as they all settled in the expansive tent that was their temporary home, the twins obliging him. "Of the Japanese team?"
"Yeah, who was that bloke?" Ron piped up, his red locks long at his jaw like his brothers. "I didn't even see him until he caught the Snitch, and even then it was hard to find him. I thought there was only five members before I saw him chase the Snitch."
"Allow us to enlighten you, children." Fred waved dramatically as he seated himself beside his twin who wore matching grins. "To begin, we have to introduce you the Generation of Miracles, the rumored and — from what you have seen, deservingly — best Quidditch team of our generation."
"They consist, unusually, of five main players." George introduced. "Two Chasers, one Seeker, one Beater, and one Keeper. And despite the lack of numbers, the five of them managed to bypass the preliminaries of the World Cup with almost ease. Their sixth player is only added when the captain believes that it will be difficult for them to hold out with a disadvantage of only five players."
"And this sixth player is their Seeker?" Hermione blinked as the twins shook their heads in unison. "But I thought that the positions of Quidditch are set in specialization."
"Usually, dear Hermione." Fred nodded before shaking his head. "But in this case, it is entirely different.
You see, the six of them were specialized just like we are, but they also have another option as of the World Cup two years ago, — making them better than ever before —, of switching positions in any game they please. All of the players other than their Keeper and one of their Chasers have the capability of switching from offense to defense in any game they wish."
"But why make it such a complex plan and harder for your players?" Ginny cut in, clearly not seeing the point of such complex positioning.
"Quidditch is not all about catching the Snitch, but obtaining enough points to override the opposing team and then catching it. It is also a game of wills and other factors that allow a Chaser to bypass other Chasers, to have a Beater predict the movement of Bludgers away from his teammates, to have an impenetrable defense that is the Keeper that nulls the notion of what may happen if the Seeker is shut down." George explained in such a serious tone, that Harry accounted it to the twin's love for the sport. It was very serious business.
"And with their capabilities to spontaneously switching positions, the six of them are able to confuse their opponents with ease and at the same time, hold a suitable semblance of teamwork to which they are acutely aware of what and where the other is." Hermione nodded as she frowned. "But that can only be obtained from absolute trust in one another in the team."
"So, who are they exactly?" Ginny asked as she turned the topic back to the original question. "Like their names?"
"Well, to begin; the captain is Seijuurou Akashi, the red-headed Beater in the finals." Fred pronounced slowly for the others to not butcher the names of the team. "The Chaser with green hair is Shintarou Midorima, as the blonde one is Ryota Kise, and the final one is Daiki Aomine. The Keeper is Atsushi Murasakibara while the Seeker is…"
The twins blinked for a moment before grinning sheepishly.
"Um… what was it again… Georgie?"
"…Uh…"
The face-palm was well deserved.
Kuroko Tetsuya, a player with an unofficial position is both basketball and Quidditch, sneezed as Kise cooed over him, the blonde pulling a tissue from the box that happened to be Midorima's lucky item for the day, as the green-haired male was promptly ignored in his protests as the phantom was being hugged to death by the blonde.
Gathered in the main hall, they all lounged comfortably as they waited for their captain; Aomine outstretched on the floor, Midorima sealing the rest of his lucky item's insides — tissues — beside a munching Murasakibara, consuming his reward of maibou as Kise pouted after Kuroko ignored him, sipping his vanilla shake.
Now that the match was over, Kuroko was internally pleased now that the six of them could return to Japan where things were much mellower and quiet to a degree than the fair English land.
It was not like the English wizards had done anything in particular or that the land itself was not to the phantom's tastes.
It just was not Japan.
And like the rest of the Kiseki, there was nothing as invigorating as playing basketball.
Quidditch was a side sport that was inherited like their pureblood heritage as Japanese wizards who attended Teikou and Mahoutokoro together. A genetic inheritance that was given whether they wanted it or not. 'Wanted' was an excessive word.
But as Kiseki no Sedai, losing was not an option, wanted extracurricular or not.
Teikou's teachings of winning being everything had even flooded into their wizardry so effectively that like their record in middle school, they were the winners in three consecutive years of the Champion's League and the National Japanese Tournament.
But like basketball, Quidditch was no longer played for the love of the sport if there was any in the first place, but to uphold their title.
None could bypass when Akashi's Emperor Eye was in effect nor spot the Golden Snitch as swiftly. None could even conjure the thought of going against Murasakibara when he played defense, much less, offense.
None could intercept the Quaffle from Kise when his golden eyes glowed with threat to use the opponent's movements against them. None could stop Aomine when he was able to stop all of their petty feints and attempts for him to drop the Quaffle, his agility too quick and unpredictable for anyone below his team.
None was able to claim the statement of Midorima to ever miss, his goals sharp and lethal, never missing no matter how far from the post. And none could ever intercept their shadow's passes to each of them, designed for only ones of their caliber to catch.
They were unbeatable. And dulled by it.
That is, until the previous event of the Winter Cup; to which their shadow had beaten them all, separated in their own teams in basketball; and now, even Quidditch was seen in a different light. Could it?
To love a game that they did not even like in the first place? The light bluette thought as his hands grazed over the Golden Snitch from the game. They haven't lost… Even after the World Cup… And even in this game, they were only playing to fulfill their end of the bargain. That accursed contract that they had signed a year ago. All because of him.
"Kurokocchi? Are you okay?"
Taking the bluette from his thoughts, Kuroko blinked before nodding reflexively at the blonde, realizing that they were all seated in the equivalent of a living room in their school's swiftest ship, the cabin scented with a fragrant incense as it was furnished exquisitely for the purebloods.
Seated at the head of the table, the newly arrived Akashi fingered a shogi piece to which Kuroko noted to be the red king, as he met each of the gazes of his team coolly.
"Now then, considering that we have the World Cup behind us; our participation in Inter-High and the Winter Cup is assured. An Olympic title for the following four years shall assuage our parents' goading for our integration into the Wizarding World anymore than necessary." Or the Headmaster's for that matter.
Akashi began with a hint of annoyance that only the other five could detect under the polite tone. And maybe, Momoi. "We are significantly better from our previous plans of Daiki and Ryota switching between being a Beater and a Chaser along with having Tetsuya and I who switch from being a Seeker."
"The game could have been finished faster if Tetsu was playing as our other Chaser. It's not like anyone can catch his passes other than us and Bakagami." Aomine pointed out as Kise pouted.
"Are you saying that my copies of Kurokocchi's Ignite Pass suck, Aominecchi? I can only use those for a few minutes!"
"They're not Tetsu's. That's why it sucks, you dumb blonde."
"Don't call me a dumb blonde!"
"In any case." Midorima cut in before an argument can form. "This should be the extent in which we will interact with the West or in the Wizarding World in general for the following year other than the Champion's League and the Japanese National Tournament to allow us to attend Shutoku, Tou, Kaijo, Rakuzan, Yosen, and Seirin comfortably."
"Not unless a certain decision is passed by our Headmaster." Akashi frowned cynically, immediately alighting red flags on all of their expressions except Kuroko.
"What do you mean, Aka-chin?" Murasakibara asked in-between bites of maibou, already on his last one as all of them turned to their captain.
"What I mean is that Professor Matsumoto Shinta has received an invitation to attend a Triwizard Quidditch Cup." Akashi announced, most of his audience unaware of this type of tournament. "I do not have all the details just yet, but what I do know is that we are to attend for the entire year if he does." Akashi means when, not if.
"Let me guess, it's not in Japan but in Europe?" Kise questioned as his captain nodded. "We can barely stand it here in England with the time zones, language barrier, and customs as it is for just a weekend. And Shinta-jii thinks we should go for a whole year?!"
Murasakibara frowned as he chewed on his maibou with an unpleased growl. "I won't be able to eat my Japanese snacks."
"But why this tournament in particular?" Midorima questioned. "There is no reason for us to be attending this tournament being so far away and not to mention the fact that we are only summer students, not year-round."
"And what about the Winter Cup?" Aomine asked. Of course, his priority being basketball as was everyone else's. "If we go to this tournament, we'll miss the Winter Cup and not to mention the end of the Inter-High finals!"
Which meant that they would have missed both altogether.
"Calm yourself, Daiki." Akashi snapped, his voice cold.
"I am well aware of the chance of our participation in Inter-High and the Winter Cup will be limited severely this year if we attend this tournament. Neither of you are not helping the situation by yelling out your opinion at me.
It is not as difficult as it may appear to predict your opinions on this matter and to be frank, I am not particularly pleased at this neither, to make our curriculum and activities more complicated than it need be. And as for your questions, Shintarou, this is apparently an invitation from the English Headmaster, a friend of our own Headmaster."
There was an unanimous hum of agreement as the six of them had a complicated relationship with wizardry.
While it was true that they were purebloods (as the English say) of prominent wizarding lineage, the use of magic was conducted as little as possible, an unspoken rule between the six of them. Even with their new respective wands hidden in their sleeves, the six of them held another oath — to never use magic unless it was absolutely necessary along with the requirement that at least one of them must be present when it was done, Momoi excluded.
"If we were to assume that we would attend this school, when would we know or at least, be notified, Akashi-kun?" Kuroko broke the silence quietly as Akashi regarded their shadow with a softened look.
"Before September, therefore, in about a week." Akashi replied, his ruby eyes dimmed as he runs a hand through his hair. "And from what I can tell, the possibility of us going to this school is high, with our parents backing this... suggestion.
Therefore, in the scenario that of which we are, I will call each of you with details of how we will conduct this matter."
There was an implied question that was answered with agreement from his audience as Akashi smirked inwardly.
Former captain in basketball or not, he was still their captain and his orders were always obeyed. Before anyone could break the silence or change the subject upon anything else, a series of frantic and hard knocks were heard against the mahogany door.
Before any of them could open it, a young witch's voice was heard.
"Akashi-kun! Dai-chan! Tetsu-kun! Muk-kun! Midorin! Ki-chan!"
Momoi's voice yelled from behind the door loudly as Murasakibara, who was closest to the door opened it to reveal their flustered manager. The pink-haired girl scanned the six of them wildly for a second before slumping over in relief to the Miracles' confusion. "Oh, thank goodness! You all are alright!"
"Oi, Satsuki. The hell's going on?" Aomine demanded as the manager looked at them in a small panic.
"Death Eaters have invaded the area! They're setting the camps below us aflame and killing anyone in their way by the minute!" Momoi hissed, gaining all of their attention. Immediately, the red-headed captain took command, his eyes narrowed.
"All of you put on your communicators." Akashi commanded as they all made their way out to the main deck of Shuinsen, hovering in the midnight clouds. Hidden in the veiled wisps of the sky, the ship reflected the attack several hundred feet below, fires licking the magical tents hungrily and small hooded figures among them, confirming their manager's report.
"Ryota, Atsushi, take us away from here. I do not want to have to deal with the British Ministry if we were to interfere with their matters. As far as we are concerned, this is no business of ours.
Tetsuya, Daiki, get on your brooms and ensure that we are not to be followed, friendly or otherwise. Just because we are foreigners and purebloods, it does not mean that the Death Eaters will have mercy upon us. Do not veer away too far from the ship's wards.
Shintarou, Satsuki, inform the Headmaster of this mess.
Dismissed."
And in unison that was too perfect to not be natural, the other six moved, their captain's orders echoing behind them.
How troublesome. Akashi thought as he twirled the shogi piece, the fires reflecting his golden eye ominously.