1990

Canada 270, Scotland 240

It was “a bitter disappointment” for Scotland, as Scottish Seeker Hector Lamont missed the Golden Snitch by millimetres. In a post-match interview, Lamont famously blamed his father “Stubby” Lamont for not giving him longer fingers.

1994

Ireland 170 , Bulgaria 160

The on-pitch action was very much overshadowed by the events that followed this match. A spectacular Snitch capture by young Seeker Viktor Krum was enough to salvage Bulgarian dignity, but not to secure a win.

1998

Malawi 260 , Senegal 180

Only the second ever all-African final. Following the 1994 riots, security at this match was tighter than ever before. Senegal almost refused to play when their team mascots (Yumboes) were arrested outside the stadium. Yumboes are a kind of African house-elf and they took their arrest in reasonably good part, merely stealing every bit of food within a ten-mile radius in revenge and vanishing into the night.

2002

Egypt 450 , Bulgaria 300

Another crushing disappointment for Bulgaria. Viktor Krum was narrowly beaten to the Snitch by the outstanding Egyptian Seeker, Rawya Zaghloul. After the match, a tearful Krum announced his retirement.

2006

Burkina Faso 300 , France 220

A popular win for the small African nation, whose Seeker Joshua Sankara was promptly named Burkinabé Minister for Magic. Two days later he resigned, pointing out that he’d much rather play Quidditch.

2010

Moldova 750 , China 640

A furiously contested match that lasted 3 days and was widely held to have produced some of the finest Quidditch seen this century. The tiny country of Moldova has consistently produced excellent Quidditch teams and supporters were heartbroken that they failed to qualify this year due to an outbreak of Dragon Pox at their training camp.

The Quidditch World Cup 2014

This year’s Quidditch World Cup promises to be as exciting as ever. The sixteen competing countries are:

Brazil, Bulgaria, Chad, Fiji, Germany, Haiti, Ivory Coast, Jamaica, Japan, Liechtenstein, New Zealand, Nigeria, Norway, Poland, USA and Wales.

Nigeria and Norway enter the tournament as the highest ranked teams. This is the first year that the USA is thought to have a reasonable chance of reaching the final. Much interest has been generated by the return to the Bulgarian side of the previously retired Mktor Krum, who at 38 is old for a Seeker but whose stated aim is ‘to win the World Cup before I die.’ For this reason, Bulgaria is attracting support from those whose countries have not qualified. Liechtenstein caused a serious upset in the qualifying stages by winning the group over China, the runners-up in 2010. Liechtenstein’s team mascot is a gloomy, oversized Augurey called Hans who has his own fan club.

Other than this, nothing out of the ordinary has been reported. Rumours that Haiti have used Inferi to intimidate opposing teams have been dismissed by the ICWQC as ‘malicious and baseless.’ Accusations that Polish Seeker Bonawentura Wojcik is actually the famous Italian Seeker Luciano Volpi, Transfigured, Were only disproven when Luciano Volpi agreed to a press conference by Wojcik’s side. Welsh manager Gwenog Jones, formerly of the Holyhead Harpies, threatened to ‘curse the face off’ rival Brazilian manager José Barboza when he called her Chasers ‘talentless hags’ , a comment he later insisted had been taken out of context.

Opening games will take place next month in the Patagonian desert.

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According to The Official Guide to the Quidditch World Cup produced by the International Confederation of Wizards’ Quidditch Committee (ICWQC) and available through all reputable wizarding bookstores for what many feel is the ridiculously overpriced sum of thirty nine Galleons — the tournament has been held every’ four years since 1473. As with so much else about the wizarding world’s most important sporting competition, many query the accuracy of this statement.

As only European teams competed during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, purists prefer to date the Quidditch World Cup’s inception from the seventeenth century when it became open to all continents. There is also heated debate about the accuracy of some historical accounts of tournaments. A substantial amount of all post-game analysis centres on whether magical interference took place and whether it made, or ought to have made, the final result moot.

The ICWQC has the unlucky job of regulating this contentious and anarchic competition. The rulebook concerning both on- and off-pitch magic is alleged to stretch to nineteen volumes and to include such rules as ‘no dragon is to be introduced into the stadium for any purpose including, but not limited to, team mascot, coach or cup warmer’ and ‘modification of any part of the referee’s body, whether or not he or she has requested such modification, will lead to a lifetime ban from the tournament and possibly imprisonment.’

A source of vehement disagreements, a security risk for all who attend it and a frequent focus for unrest and protest, the Quidditch World Cup is simultaneously the most exhilarating sporting event on earth and a logistical nightmare for the host nation.

Statute of Secrecy

A watershed moment for the Quidditch World Cup was the implementation of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1692, which was intended to conceal the existence of

magic and wizards. The International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) saw the Quidditch World Cup as a security risk of the highest magnitude because of the mass movement and congregation of so many members of the international wizarding community. However, following mass protests and threats to the ICW, it was agreed that the tournament could continue and a regulatory body — the ICWQC — was set up to locate suitable venues — usually remote moors, deserts and deserted islands — arrange transportation for spectators (as many as a hundred thousand routinely attend finals) and police the games themselves, a task generally agreed to be among the most thankless and difficult in the wizarding world.

How the Tournament Works

The number of countries that enter a Quidditch team for each World Cup fluctuates from tournament to tournament. Where the wizarding population of a country is small it can be difficult to raise a team of the required standard, but other factors such as international conflict or disaster may affect the entry numbers. However, any country may enter a team within the twelve months following the last final.

Teams are then divided into sixteen groups within which even team plays all the others over a two-year period until sixteen winning teams remain. During the group phase, game length is capped at four hours to prevent player exhaustion. Inevitably this means that some group games have no Snitch catches, but are decided on goals alone. Any win in the group phase counts for two points. A win by more than 150 points earns an additional five points, by 100 an additional 3 points and 50, 1 point. In the case of a tie on points, the Winner is the team who caught the Snitch most often — or most quickly during its matches.

The final sixteen are ranked according to the points they won during the group phase. The team with most points plays the team with least, the team with the second most points plays the team with the second least and so on. In theory, the two best teams will remain to play each other in the final.

Referees are chosen by the ICWQC.

Infamous Tournaments

No Quidditch World Cup is without its controversies, but some stand out. A few of the most infamous are listed below.

Attack of the Killer Forest

The ghastly climax of the 1809 final between Romania and New Spain (what is now known as Mexico) has gone down in wizarding history as the worst exhibition of temper ever given by an individual player. Niko Nenad’s teammates had become so concerned by his ferocious outbursts during the quarter- and semi-finals that they tried to persuade their manager to substitute him for the final advice that was sadly ignored by the ambitious old wizard. After the game, Nenad’s teammate Ivan Popa (winner of an International Wizarding Order of Merlin for his life-saving actions during the catastrophe) told an international inquiry: ‘over the preceding weeks we’d seen Niko beat himself over the head with his broom and set fire to his own feet in frustration. I’d personallv stopped him strangling two referees. However, I had no suspicion about whathe was planning to do if the final didn’t go our way. I mean, who’d suspect that? You’d have to be as mental as he was. ‘ Precisely when and how Nenad managed to jinx an entire forest on the edge of the West Siberian Plain is open to speculation, although he is thought to have had accomplices among unprincipled fans and was later proven to have paid local Dark wizards substantial sums. After two hours of play, Romania were behind on points and looking tired. It was then that Nenad deliberately hit a Bludger out of the stadium into the forest beyond the pitch. The effect was instantaneous and murderous. The trees sprang to life, wrenched their roots out of the ground and marched upon the stadium, flattening everything in their path, causing numerous injuries and several fatalities. What had been a Quidditch match turned swiftly into a human versus tree battle, which the wizards won only after seven hours’ hard fighting. Nenad was not prosecuted as he had been killed early on by a particularly violent spruce.

The Tournament that Nobody Remembers

The ICWQC insists that a tournament has been held every four years since 1473. This is a source of pride, proving as it does that nothing — wars, adverse weather conditions or Muggle interference — can stop wizards playing Quidditch. There is, however, a mystery surrounding the tournament of 1877. The competition was undoubtedly planned: a venue chosen (the Ryn Desert in Kazakhstan), publicity materials produced, tickets sold. In August, however, the wizarding world woke up to the fact that they had no memory whatsoever of the tournament taking place. Neither those in possession of tickets nor any of the players could remember a single game. However, for reasons none of them understood, English Beater Lucas Bargeworthy was missing most of his teeth, Canadian Seeker Angelus Peel’s knees were on backwards and half the Argentinian team were found tied up in the basement of a pub in Cardiff. Precisely what had — or had not taken place during the tournament has never been satisfactorily proven. Theories range from a Mass Memory Charm perpetuated by the Goblin Liberation Front (at that time very active and attracting a number of disaffected anarchist wizards) or the breakout of Cerebrumous Spattergroit, a virulent sub-strain of the more common Spattergroit, which causes severe confusion and memory’ impairment. In any case, it was deemed appropriate to re-stage the tournament in 1878 and it has been held every four years since, which accounts for the slight anomaly in the ‘every four years since 1473’ sequence.

Royston Idlewind and the Dissimulators

In 1971 the ICWQC appointed a new International Director, Australian wizard Royston Idlewind. An ex-player who had been part of his country’s World Cup-Winning team of 1966, he was nevertheless a contentious choice for International Director due to his hard-line views on crowd control — a stance undoubtedly influenced by the many jinxes he had endured as Australia’s star Chaser. Idlewind’s statement that he considered the crowd ‘the only thing I don’t like about Quidditch’ did not endear him to fans. Their feelings turned to outright hostility when he proceeded to bring in a number of draconian regulations, the worst being a total ban on all wands from the stadium except those carried by ICWQC officials. Many fans threatened to boycott the 1974 World Cup in protest but as empty stands were Idlewind’s secret ambition, their never stood a chance. The tournament duly commenced and while crowd turnout was reduced, the appearance of ‘Dissimulators’, an innovative new style of musical instrument, enlivened every match. These multi-coloured tube-like objects emitted loud cries of support and puffs of smoke in national colours. As the tournament progressed, the Dissimulator craze grew, as did the crowds. By the time the Syria-Madagascar final arrived, the stands were packed with a record crowd of wizards, each carring his or her own Dissimulator. Upon the appearance of Royston Idlewind in the box for dignitaries and high-ranking officials, a hundred thousand Dissimulators emitted loud raspberries and were transformed instantly into the wands they had been disguising all along. Humiliated by the mass flouting of his pet law, Royston Idlewind resigned instantly. Even the supporters of the losers, Madagascar, had something to celebrate during the rest of the long, raucous night.

Reappearance of the Dark Mark

Possibly the most infamous World Cup Final of the last few centuries was the Ireland- Bulgaria match of 1994, which took place on Dartmoor, England. During the post-match celebrations of Ireland’s triumph there was an outbreak of unprecedented violence as supporters of Lord Voldemort attacked fellow wizards and captured and tortured local Muggles. For the first time in fourteen years, the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, which caused widespread alarm and resulted in many injuries among the crowd. The ICWQC censured the Ministry of Magic heavily after the event, judging that security arrangements had been inadequate given the known existence of a violent Pure-blood tendency in the United Kingdom. Royston Idlewind emerged briefly from retirement to give the following statement to the Daily Prophet: ‘a wand ban doesn’t look so stupid now, does it?’

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The wizarding world’s affection for the Scottish rugby team is all the more bizarre because a substantial part of wizarding society knows nothing about Muggle sports, which they regard as inherently dull and even silly. Yet the Scottish rugby team has become a wizarding meme – part in-joke, part genuine interest – which has its roots in the nineteenth century and is a tale both sad and uplifting.

The wizarding family of Buchanan lived in a village in the Scottish Borders for many generations. A reputation for aggression and drunkenness, coupled with their prodigious size (the daughters alone had won the village tug-of-war every year in living memory), kept their neighbours at a respectful distance and ignorant of their magical abilities. One by one, as they reached the age of eleven, the Buchanan sons and daughters would disappear to Hogwarts. The village whispered that the enormous, wild children were being removed to a corrective facility or even a mental institution.

By the mid-nineteenth century the Buchanan family comprised an overworked mother, a fierce father and eleven children. The household was loud and chaotic, but even so, it is surprising that neither of the Buchanan parents realised that their third son, Angus, was a Squib – a wizard-born child with no magical powers. It had always been the proud boast of Mr Buchanan senior that such an anomaly had never occurred in their family. The proud old warlock went further: a Squib in any family was a sign that they were in decline and deserved to be winnowed out.

His brothers and sisters were all very fond of Angus, who was the largest and kindest of them all, so they covered up for him in front of his parents. The deception was innocently begun, but as the time approached for him to leave for Hogwarts, Angus and his siblings became uneasily aware that they could not maintain the pretense much longer. No letter from school arrived for Angus, but his panicking sister Flora forged one, which kept the parents in ignorance for several weeks more. Shy, good-natured and frightened of his father, Angus could not think of any alternative but to play along with his older siblings. They took him to Diagon Alley, where they bought a wand and pretended that it had chosen him. On the appointed day, his big brother Hamish took him to Hogwarts on the back of his broomstick, hoping against desperate hope that Angus would be allowed to stay once they got there, or that the school might be able to tease some magic out of him.

It had never happened before and it has never happened since, but Angus got as far as the Sorting Hat before he was exposed. In sheer desperation he threw himself ahead of a girl whose name had been called and placed the Hat upon his head. The horror of the moment when the Hat announced kindly that the boy beneath it was a good-hearted chap, but no wizard, would never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. Angus took off the hat and left the hall with tears streaming down his face.

News of Angus’s humiliation reached his parents in a flurry of owls before their son arrived home on foot. He was met by his humiliated father, who barred his entrance, bade him never darken their door again, and fired curses after Angus as he fled.

Without any idea of what he would do next, without family or money, the eleven-year-old Angus walked to the capital, occasionally hitching rides on carts. In Edinburgh he lied about his age and managed to find work as a labourer.

To Angus’s surprise, Muggles were not nearly as bad as his father and mother had always told him. He had the good fortune to be taken in by a kind foreman and his wife who had no children of their own, and by the time he was eighteen, Angus had grown into a big strong man who was loved for his kind nature and admired for his physical prowess, but who never shared the strange secrets of his past.

Angus’s early childhood had been spent dodging curses on an almost daily basis, which meant that he was surprisingly fast for a man of his size. He found his greatest pleasure and pride in athleticism, and soon became adept at the relatively new Muggle sport of rugby. Years of helping his siblings catch Golden Snitches in the back garden also made him a natural at cricket.

In 1871 Angus found himself representing his country in the first ever international rugby match, which took place in Edinburgh between England and Scotland. Angus’s emotion can perhaps be imagined as he walked out onto the pitch and saw all ten of his brothers and sisters among the spectators. Defying their father’s contempt for all Muggle pursuits and his injunction against ever seeing Angus again, they had set out to track him down. Elated, Angus scored the first try. Scotland won the match.

Reunion with his family caused Angus to reevaluate his relationship with his magical roots and in 1900 he published the groundbreaking worldwide bestseller My Life As A Squib. Until this point, Squibs had lived in the shadows. Some clung to the fringes of the wizarding world, always feeling second-class and trying to fit in; others cut all ties and lived entirely as Muggles, often repudiating their beginnings. My Life As A Squib brought the plight of these individuals to the wizarding world’s attention.

Thus Angus Buchanan became world-famous among wizards whilst also being celebrated among Muggles, a hitherto unknown achievement. Wizards of many nationalities began turning up to watch him play sport. Unfortunately, cricket found little favour with wizardkind. As the chief sports writer in the Daily Prophet wrote in 1902: ‘a Beater who is unable to fly defends three sticks instead of a hoop, while a Snitch without wings is thrown at the sticks. That’s it. Sometimes for several days’. Rugby held more appeal. Wizards could not help but admire the strength and courage of Muggles prepared to engage in a sport so brutal, without recourse to Disapparating out of the way, or access to Skele-Gro to repair broken bones. It must be admitted that there was an edge of sadism to some wizards’ enjoyment.

When Angus Buchanan died, he was honoured by both wizarding and Muggle worlds, an almost unique achievement in the annals of history. A shining example of a person who had made the most of the hand that life had dealt them and emerged triumphant, Angus was too modest to realise the impact that he had had. The Angus Buchanan Cup for Outstanding Effort is awarded at Hogwarts each year and My Life as A Squib is on its 110th printing.

When it comes to wizarding sports and games (Quidditch, Quodpot, Creaothceann – officially banned but still played illegally – broom-racing, Gobstones and so forth) wizards are naturally fiercely partisan and support their own country, but it is considered infra dig for wizards to support any rugby team other than Scotland. Over the nearly 150 years since Angus Buchanan helped win the first international rugby match, discussing Scottish rugby has become one of several covert identifiers for wizards meeting in front of Muggles and seeking to establish each other’s credentials. Eavesdropping Muggles might be puzzled as to why two Peruvians are so interested in a Scottish team, but it is generally agreed that this is preferable to arguing about Quidditch or comparing wand lengths in public.

Shortly after Angus’s death, the Wizarding Supporters of Scottish Rugby Union was set up in his memory by his devoted fans. The WSSRU, which exists to this day, has both Scottish and foreign wizarding members. They meet on the eve of every Scottish international match to toast Angus’s memory and anticipate a happy eighty minutes of watching Muggles trample each other into the mud. The International Statute of Secrecy expressly forbids wizards to participate in Muggle sport, but there is nothing illegal in supporting a Muggle side. However, the WSSRU has often had to deny the persistent rumour that its secret mission is to smuggle a talented Squib on to every Scottish team. Current suspects include Kelly Brown (possible cousin of Lavender’s), Jim Hamilton (strong resemblance to Hagrid) and Stuart Hogg (enough said).

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There is only one wizarding newspaper in Britain, discounting such small circulation publications such as The Quibbler. The Daily Prophet, whose headquarters are in Diagon Alley, is delivered by owl on a daily basis to nearly every wizarding household in Britain. Payment is effected by placing coins in the pouch tied to the paper-owl’s leg. Occasionally (when something particularly interesting or exciting happens, such as the illegal flight of a Ford Anglia the length of Britain) an Evening Prophet edition will be rushed out.

The Prophet is not an entirely unbiased source of news, and sometimes displays unfortunately sensationalist tendency best epitomised by star reporter Rita Skeeter. Ostensibly an independent news source, it has more than once been influenced by the Ministry (or ruling power) of the day to hush up certain stories. A clue to its overriding motivation may be found in its name, ‘prophet’ being a homonym of ‘profit’ (although I was also taken with the idea of a wizarding newspaper claiming foreknowledge of news to come.)

Wizardkind tends not to require alternative political flavours in its news coverage (which is not to say, however, that the Prophet does not have a political agenda). As a small, outsider and occasionally beleaguered community, wizards are, by and large, interested in the same kinds of stories: the Quidditch League results, whether anyone is in trouble for infractions of the International Statute of Secrecy, what irritating legislation the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office has come up with now, and when the next Celestina Warbeck/Weird Sisters concert will take place.

It seems likely that wizards will continue to favour old-fashioned newsprint, even while the Muggle world resorts increasingly to the internet. If Muggle newspapers had moving photographs, their circulation might be similarly buoyant.

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Durmstrang once had the darkest reputation of all eleven wizarding schools, though this was never entirely merited. It is true that Durmstrang, which has turned out many truly great witches and wizards, has twice in its history fallen under the stewardship of wizards of dubious allegiance or nefarious intent, and that it has one infamous ex-pupil.

The first of these unhappy men, Harfang Munter, took over the school shortly after the mysterious death of its founder, the great Bulgarian witch Nerida Vulchanova. Munter established Durmstrang’s reputation for duelling and all forms of martial magic, which remain an impressive part of its curriculum today. The second dark period in Durmstrang’s history came with the Headmastership of Igor Karkaroff, an ex-Death Eater who fled his post upon the return from exile of Lord Voldemort, fearing the latter’s retribution. Karkaroff was an unprincipled and egotistical man who encouraged a culture of fear and intimidation among the students, and many parents withdrew their children from Durmstrang while he was in charge.

The ex-pupil who has done more than any other to cause damage to Durmstrang’s reputation is Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most dangerous wizards of the twentieth century. However, in recent years Durmstrang has undergone something of a renaissance, and has produced such international luminaries as international Quidditch star Viktor Krum.

Although believed to be situated in the far north of Europe, Durmstrang is one of the most secretive of all schools about its whereabouts, so nobody can be quite certain. Visitors, who must comply with memory charms to erase their knowledge of how they got there, speak of vast, sprawling grounds with many stunning views, not least of the great, dark, spectral ship that is moored on a mountain lake behind the school, from which students dive in summertime.

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Thought to be situated somewhere in the Pyrenees, visitors speak of the breath-taking beauty of a chateau surrounded by formal gardens and lawns created out of the mountainous landscape by magic. Beauxbatons Academy has a preponderance of French students, though Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Luxembourgians and Belgians also attend in large numbers (both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have a larger studentship than Hogwarts). It is said that the stunning castle and grounds of this prestigious school were part-funded by alchemist gold, for Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel met at Beauxbatons in their youth, and a magnificent fountain in the middle of the school’s park, believed to have healing and beautifying properties, is named for them.

Beauxbatons has always enjoyed a cordial relationship with Hogwarts, though there has been a healthy rivalry in international competitions such as the Triwizard Tournament, in which Beauxbatons has sixty-two wins to Hogwarts’ sixty-three.

Apart from the Flamels, famous ex-students of Beauxbatons include Vincent Duc de Trefle-Picques, who escaped the Terror by casting a concealment charm on his neck and pretending that his head had already been cut off; Luc Millefeuille, the infamous pastry-maker and Muggle-poisoner, and Fleur Delacour, who fought in the world-famous Battle of Hogwarts and was awarded medals of bravery from both the French and British Ministries of Magic. Headmistress Olympe Maxime is (in spite of her protestations to the contrary) half-giantess; brilliant, elegant and undeniably awe-inspiring.

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