The Return to Hogwarts

Harry really wanted to yell at Lucius Malfoy, but Sirius held him firmly on the shoulder, preventing him from lashing out.

Lucius's words did indeed surprise Fudge, but he noticed that the Bulgarian Minister of Magic beside him also seemed concerned about what Lucius Malfoy had said, so he chuckled dryly.

“Oh, hehe, that’s a funny little joke, isn’t it, Lucius? Werewolves are kept under strict surveillance, and besides Amostall personally executing Greyback and his werewolves, I’d like to see which werewolf in Britain dares to cause trouble. Speaking of which—”

Fudge looked around a few times, and said with slight disappointment,

“Amosta, like you, Lucius, donated a sum of gold to St. Mungo’s. I originally had Amelia send him an invitation, but we went through several different owls delivering tickets and still couldn’t find him, Sirius?”

Fudge recognized Sirius early on, but he wasn't interested in him, and he knew Sirius wouldn't like him either, so he deliberately ignored him. But since he had asked about Amosta, he casually asked, "Do you know where Amosta is? If he's watching the game here, then let him come here if he can't get a first-class ticket."

For some reason, Harry keenly noticed that Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, looked a little off when Fudge mentioned Professor Blaine. He seemed quite nervous, and his face only looked less pale after Sirius told Fudge that Professor Blaine hadn't come to watch the game.

Hermione and Ron were both close by now, and since they couldn't squeeze in, they could only crane their necks anxiously to look from behind.

"Oh my God--"

Fudge seemed to realize that he had gathered almost everyone in the private room around him, and he smiled warmly at them all.

"The match is about to begin, everyone, please return to your seats."

So the crowd began to disperse, and Harry and Sirius stood on the steps, waiting for the people in front of them to return to their seats. As Draco walked past Harry, he gave him a disdainful look, and of course, Harry didn't give him a friendly look either.

Narcissa pretended not to see her relative, but Lucius paused slightly as he walked past Sirius, his seemingly unintentional gaze sweeping over Sirius's face, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

"Your assessment of the Malfoy family was excellent; I've taken note."

Sirius frowned, but before he could say anything, Lucius Malfoy had already walked to his seat.

Sirius Black –

Harry called out worriedly. It seemed Draco's father knew about what Sirius had said that morning. Lucius Malfoy was far more powerful and cunning than his son. In his second year, to deal with Mr. Weasley, he even stuffed Voldemort's relics into Ginny's bag and used the opening of Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets to attack a young wizard, almost getting Dumbledore expelled from Hogwarts.

"It's alright, Harry—"

After a cold snort, Sirius said nonchalantly,

"This kind of person can't harm me."

When Harry, Hermione, and Ron got together, he immediately told them about Lucius's threat, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem to care much.

“You overestimate that guy, Harry—” Ron’s tone was almost identical to Sirius’s just now. “He’s always wanted to get back at my dad, but he hasn’t succeeded all these years. As far as I’m concerned, Lucius Malfoy is just like his son, completely brainless.”

"He won't dare to do anything reckless, Harry—"

Hermione also said,

"Neither Professor Dumbledore nor Professor Blaine would stand by and watch Lucius Malfoy cause trouble for Sirius."

Harry felt much more at ease upon hearing the names of those two wizards. Indeed, even if Lucius Malfoy had any ill intentions towards Sirius, they would vanish under the watchful eyes of Professors Dumbledore and Blaine.

“Harry, I just saw you chatting with a house-elf?” Hermione asked curiously. “Do you know it?”

Its name is Sparkle--

Harry recounted his conversation with the house-elf in detail. Unsurprisingly, Hermione was equally furious at Barty Crouch's irresponsible actions. Ron, however, seemed unable to empathize with the house-elf's tragic fate, merely glancing curiously at the spot.

"But Barty Crouch hasn't arrived yet, and the match is about to start, isn't it?"

No sooner had Ron finished speaking than Ludo Bagman burst into the private room.

"Is everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a giant spherical cheese. "Minister—can we begin?"

"Let's begin, Ludo."

Fudge said kindly.

The thunderous speech resounded throughout the packed stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

The magnificent stadium erupted in thunderous applause and cheers. Thousands of flags waved simultaneously, accompanied by a jumble of national anthems. The scene was truly spectacular. Regardless of what people had been thinking or discussing before, the moment Ludo's voice rang out, only the word 'Quidditch' filled their minds!

"Alright, enough chit-chat. Please allow me to introduce the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stands was a neat bright red square, which at this moment erupted in loud cheers.

“Each team brings their own mascot, which is always something to see!” Mr. Weasley said to the children with a beaming smile. “I wonder if they brought one… Oh!”

Mr. Weasley suddenly leaned forward from his seat, abruptly removed his glasses, and wiped them on his robe.

"It's a Veela!"

What is allure?

A hundred Veelas had already glided onto the arena, and Harry's question was answered. Veelas were women, the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen in his life. Their skin shone with a soft, moonlit glow, and their hair flowed freely even without wind. Just then, the music started playing. Harry couldn't comprehend why Veelas were human; in fact, his mind went completely blank.

The Veela's dance was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen in his life. Just watching it brought him immense joy, and everything else became insignificant.

As the Veela's dance grew faster and faster, a series of wild, unformed ideas began to swirl in Harry's dizzy mind. He wanted to do something truly extraordinary, and now he sat down. How about jumping from the box into the stadium? Sounds good. But would it be spectacular enough?

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Hermione's voice seemed to come from beyond the heavens.

The music stopped, and Harry blinked blankly. He stood in front of the railing, one leg propped up on the railing, while next to him, Ron made a diving motion, bending over and remaining motionless.

"Tsk tsk--"

Most of the men in the box looked as if they had just woken from a dream, with only a few adult wizards maintaining their composure. Sirius Black, hardened by his experience with the Dementors, smiled as he looked at Harry and the Weasley children, and clicked his tongue.

"Young people—"

Chapter 468 The game begins

2023-09-09

Thank goodness it's dark here! -- Harry thought thankfully, his face flushed red with embarrassment. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley smiled as he stopped Ron from tearing off his shamrock hat, while pulling his own leg out from between the railings.

Next, the Irish team's mascot entered, and the shower of gold coins undoubtedly pushed the atmosphere to a fever pitch once again. Ron cheered and ran around the box, gathering all the few coins that had fallen into it into his arms. Looking at the handful of coins in his hand, Ron hesitated for only a moment before handing them to Harry.

"That evens things out!" Ron shouted excitedly. "If we win the bet, we split the money, Harry!"

Both teams' warm-up acts were undoubtedly huge successes, and now, the most anticipated part had arrived. The restless crowd unconsciously quieted down, everyone waiting for the players to appear next. Harry held his breath, his emerald green eyes shining brightly in the dim light.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the Bulgarian Quidditch national team! Let me introduce you to Dimitrov, Ivanova, Dograf, Lewski, Vokanov, and Volkov!"

A series of figures in red riding on flying broomsticks flew into the arena from an entrance below. They were flying so fast that they were almost invisible.

"Finally!" Ludo's voice rang out again, "Krum!"

The cheers nearly lifted the roof off the arena. Ron was shouting excitedly, completely unaware that Hermione was giving him a disapproving look.

"Is it really that serious? He's just a Quidditch player!"

“You don’t understand boys, Hermione.”

Sirius, who had heard the complaint, smiled and said...

Krum, who drove Ron mad, was dark and thin, with ashen skin, a large hooked nose, and thick, dark eyebrows, making him look like a gigantic eagle. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"Now, please welcome -- the Irish Quidditch National Team!"

Bagman shouted in a loud voice, "The lineup is—Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mallett! Moran! Quigley! And—and—and—Lynch!"

Seven blurry green figures flew toward the arena. Harry turned a button on the side of the panoramic telescope to slow down their movements and saw that their flying brooms were all marked with 'Firebolt', and that their names were embroidered in silver thread on their backs.

Then came Hassan Mustafa, the famous chairman of the Quidditch Federation, a short, thin wizard wearing a faded gold wizarding robe that matched the color of the stadium.

Harry had never seen such a wonderful Quidditch match. He was the Seeker for the Gryffindor team at Hogwarts and had experienced many tough matches. He was a veteran, but when he came to the Quidditch World Cup final and watched the world's best Quidditch match, he realized the gap between Hogwarts' house cup and professional players.

No match has ever been as intense as this one. The players' speed is simply unbelievable, and the extremely high frequency of Quake transitions means that Bagman only has time to call out the players' names.

Just minutes into the game, Ireland broke through Bulgaria's impenetrable defense and took an early lead of ten points.

The entire audience erupted in cheers and applause, and the VIP box became a sea of ​​jubilation. Ginny and Hermione stood up from their seats, jumping and waving their arms with joy. Harry had never seen Hermione so excited about a Quidditch match before, and Ron's reaction was not much different. However, after regaining his composure, he immediately stared at Ludo, who was commentating on the match, his eyes filled with eagerness.

On the sidelines, the leprechauns brought by the Irish team were also celebrating. They rose into the air again, forming a giant, shimmering clover, while the Veela opposite them stared at them with grim expressions.

The Irish team did not disappoint. After taking the lead, they did not let their guard down but pressed forward relentlessly, continuing to extend their advantage with rapid attacks and astonishing teamwork. Within ten minutes, the tall scoreboard opposite the VIP box showed a score of 30-0.

The competition became more intense and more brutal!

The Bulgarian team displayed remarkable resilience. Despite knowing that their only hope of winning the game lay with their talented Seeker, Krum, they did not flinch in their battle for points against Ireland. Through their efforts, Bulgaria finally broke through the zero mark on the scoreboard.

"You'd better plug your ears, you little ones!"

Sirius shouted as he saw the Veela begin to dance in celebration. Harry listened and covered his ears, and he also closed his eyes. Indeed, the Veela's dance was captivating, but Harry preferred to focus on the game at hand.

"Look! Krum seems to have spotted the Golden Snitch!"

Harry suddenly shouted.

Everyone quickly shifted their attention away from the brave chasers and focused on the two seekers, Krum and Lynch!

Among the players floating in mid-air, Lynch and Krum plummeted rapidly, as if they had jumped out of a plane without parachutes.

The two men headed straight down, seemingly determined to either catch the thief or crash into the ground.

"They're going to fall to the ground!" Hermione exclaimed beside Harry.

She was only half right. At the last second, Viktor Krum stopped its dive, the gust of wind it created flattened a patch of grass before it rose again, circling and flying away, while Lynch crashed heavily to the ground with a thud that could be heard throughout the stadium, and a groan came from the seats of the Irish spectators.

“Fool!” Mr. Weasley grumbled. “Krum is just faking it!”

"The game is paused!" Mr. Bagman roared.