I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 223 Quidditch World Cup

Everyone else present silently stepped back a few paces, leaving space for the deceased's family.

Harry stared at the scene before him.

Their expressions were somewhat moved.

He wondered if he were to suddenly die one day, would so many relatives come to see him off?

Family

Harry remembered his Aunt Petunia.

He then shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

If it were Aunt Penny, she probably wouldn't even be willing to pay for her own cremation.

As for why cremation is used instead of burial...

Because cremation is cheaper!

"Stop looking so long-faced!" Owen silently stepped forward. "Once you're dead, I'll get you a genuine English oak coffin, then find a propitious spot, and invite the most famous bands to perform at your grave for three days straight. I guarantee hundreds of thousands of people will come to pay their respects!"

"Get lost!" Harry laughed and cursed, holding back the tears that were about to gush from the corners of his eyes.

"I don't like it!"

"It's okay, you can also choose services such as girl group hot dance, mass funeral procession, etc. A dozen stunning beauties will hold umbrellas and silently offer roses at your grave, leaving you with a mysterious and enviable legend."

"Of course, as long as you leave your entire estate to me before you die, I guarantee that I will use every means at my disposal to send you off in a grand and glorious manner!" Owen joked.

"I'll send you away right now!" Harry gritted his teeth and turned to fumble for his wand in his robe pocket.

It seems he's going to have a duel with Irving.

"Hey, why are you so excited!" Owen continued flippantly, "Alright, alright, you can send me away now. Remember to get me a solid gold coffin, and make the tomb bigger, like a pyramid, plus all sorts of magical traps. I'm afraid someone will rob my grave."

"Or turn me into a zombie. Whoever dares to open my coffin will get a bloody maw from me."

Irving chuckled.

But the more Harry talked, the more he felt there was something more to his words.

Because Kyrie Irving doesn't make this expression when he's really joking.

The real him would always use a mocking tone when reading jokes, unlike now, where although it's playful and unreasonable, there's no hint of ridicule.

It's like...

Harry didn't have time to question it.

Meanwhile, on the other side, as Blake's relatives scooped up soil and scattered it,

The funeral was drawing to a close.

Apart from Bella, who is far away in Azkaban.

This may be the first time that Blake's descendants have gathered together as adults.

This might be a good opportunity.

Perhaps they can put aside their past grievances and get back together.

Both Harry and Hermione greatly envied those who had large families and relatives.

In their eyes, no matter what conflicts Sirius had with his sister, they were still siblings!

Aside from Bella, who is beyond redemption.

There should be a chance for everything to be made right.

Unfortunately, Regulus's opportunity was not enough to mend the rift between his brothers and sisters.

After a brief funeral.

They then went their separate ways.

As darkness fell, after Regulus's funeral, Dumbledore rushed back to the castle, where Lupin had something to discuss with him.

Sirius was still grieving, and Harry stayed to take care of him.

Hermione, on the other hand, returned home with Dobby's help.

It was nearly midnight when Irving stepped back into his house.

Without any hesitation, he fell asleep immediately.

Ancient magic wasn't so easy to cast.

It consumed a lot of Irving's energy and physical strength.

A few days later.

Since the cave incident, Irving has finally had a vacation.

No one bothered him until the end of June.

In early July, he packed his bags and set off for a trip to Europe.

Thanks, Dobby.

Because of him, Irving has several door key anchor points in Europe.

For four whole weeks, he traveled to several cities across Europe, including Venice, Milan, Berlin, and Warsaw. If it weren't for the fact that he wasn't very familiar with the Russian Ministry of Magic, he would have definitely gone to Moscow to visit.

He heard about the Quidditch World Cup in Cairo, Egypt.

To everyone's surprise.

This year's World Cup will still be held in the UK, scheduled for early August.

It's unclear how much effort Barty Krach put in to convince the organizing committee to continue hosting the World Cup in the UK.

But there is no denying that Britain needs this event now.

The World Cup is needed to give people a break from their stress.

After he announced that Britain would continue to host the World Cup, Barty Crouch's approval ratings rose visibly almost instantly.

Although it's not much, it's a good start.

Everyone knows that Britain needs time to heal its wounds, and the World Cup is definitely the best medicine for that.

Irving originally had no intention of going back.

But Harry wrote to him several times, inviting him to watch the World Cup final.

Unable to resist his pleas, Owen returned to England in early August.

Meanwhile, the Quidditch semi-finals were still going on. Owen received Harry's reports from the front lines every day.

After a few days of rest, we finally got back to work.

Under Dobby's leadership.

It's so strange—why are his little elves interested in everything and know everything?

Owen had no idea where Quidditch was played, but Dobby knew it all.

After Apparition.

They found themselves in a deserted forest.

Dobby led him onward for about ten minutes, when suddenly a wooden door appeared in front of them.

"The Ministry of Magic was worried that too many wizards would come to watch the competition, so they cast a lot of anti-Apparition spells on the field, although these didn't affect the elves," Dobby said ramblingly, like a happy little rabbit. "They stipulated that Apparition can only land on the other side of the forest, and Dobby has to follow the rules."

"What kind of damn rule is this! I guarantee the Malfoys will definitely Apparate into the arena!" Owen said indignantly, then pushed open the wooden door.

Behind the door was a basin.

There are hundreds of tents of strange shapes on the grassland.

They stretched down the gentle slope all the way to the horizon.

"Which two countries are participating in this competition?" Irving suddenly asked.

He has never been interested in Quidditch.

I haven't paid any attention to these things at all.

"You didn't know?" Dobby stared in surprise with wide, round eyes, but still managed to explain, "Ireland vs. Bulgaria!"

"Dobby was hoping England could qualify, but—they were so embarrassing, they lost to Transylvania 10 to 390, scoring only one goal the whole game."

He said with a worried look, "Welsh lost to Uganda, and Scotland was thrashed by Luxembourg."

"So Ireland's the only one left?" Owen said, rather speechless. "Sure enough, the United Kingdom has it easy. Four chances in total. I don't need to guess to know the Weasleys are definitely supporting Ireland. Haha—just a month ago they were England fans!"

"And what about the French team?" he then asked.

"France?" Dobby was taken aback; he then remembered that the gentleman was French. "They fell to the Germans, in the round of 16."

"."

"That makes perfect sense."

His lips twitched, then he asked in a nonchalant tone, "And what about my Great Ming?"

"The Ming Empire, which Far Eastern country?"

"Dobby doesn't seem to have seen them on the schedule."

"."

Although Owen didn't understand Quidditch, in his previous life, he still clicked on Rowling's Quidditch setting related to the Far East with a certain expectation.

All I can say is that if Rowling hadn't referenced football, he definitely wouldn't have believed it.

In her vision, the Ming Dynasty would only truly rise to prominence after reaching the Quidditch World Cup finals in 2010.

This is quite consistent with the international standing achieved through national development.

Not far from the wooden gate stood a man, gazing at the tents in the distance.

Irving could tell at a glance that he was a real Muggle.

To put it in high emotional intelligence, it's because there wasn't a trace of magical energy emanating from him.

To put it bluntly, at first glance, he's the only one who looks normal dressed as a Muggle.

The others, the wizards, were dressed in somewhat strange ways.

He even saw the wizard wearing a parasol on his head, even though it was still dark.

There are also some fashionistas who mix and match, wearing a suit jacket on top and flared pants on the bottom, which is considered normal.

He also saw Batman and Spider-Man running across the grassland.

Superman and Black Widow are having a romantic time in the woods!

What the hell is this anime cosplay?

I hate those comic book fans the most.

As he spoke, Irving slowly tightened his trench coat, covering his prized Avengers T-shirt with Stan Lee's autograph.

This is a treasure trove.

Unlike those cheap cosplays.

hum~

It's just different!

"Hey kid over there, are you here to rent a tent too?"

The Muggle walked over.

"It's strange these days, so many people are renting tents. I've already rented out hundreds," he said.

"We're not renting tents; someone already rented them for us," Owen said calmly, regaining his composure.

"Really?" Mr. Roberts frowned slightly, because at that moment he noticed Dobby, the little elf next to Owen.

His brows furrowed, and then his eyes filled with uncontrollable fear.

Just as he was about to scream.

Just then, a wizard wearing lantern pants descended from the sky and landed beside him.

"Forget everything!" he shouted, pointing his wand at the poor Muggle.

Immediately, Mr. Roberts' gaze cleared, his brows relaxed, and he wore a dazed expression, seemingly indifferent to everything.

Then he walked away calmly.

"Don't let your house-elves run around! There are lots of Muggles around here."

"Hmm—it's you!" Mr. Ober Benny looked down and saw Owen's incredibly handsome face.

"What, Mr. Ober, didn't you take a day off today?" Irving joked.

"What vacation?! I've been working overtime for a month already." He looked extremely tired, with a shaved chin, a livid face, and a bluish-purple shadow under his glasses.

"What the hell is this World Cup? Why isn't it over yet!" With that, he Apparated and disappeared, leaving only his words echoing in the air: "Go inside, Blake's tent is at the very back."

"Tsk," Owen said with a hint of sympathy as he watched Mr. Ober leave.

I felt more sympathy for that poor Muggle.

You should know that the Forgetfulness Curse is definitely not a good thing.

This stuff should be classified as black magic.

Using the Oblivion Charm repeatedly on someone in a short period of time can permanently damage that person's brain.

Even if it's not multiple times, but just one powerful forgetting spell, such as Lockhart's permanent forgetting spell, these can cause serious damage to a wizard's brain.

At best, the person cursed will become forgetful and misplacing things.

In severe cases, it can directly lead to dementia.

Even killing.

That Muggle will probably end up with dementia; killing someone is no different.

But the wizard didn't care.

They don't care what impact their actions will have on Muggles, as long as they haven't broken the law.

This is what makes the Secrets Act so ridiculous, because it protects neither Muggles nor wizards; it merely restricts wizards from using spells that cross the line against Muggles.

Someone will always get hurt, and suffer a fate worse than death.

A wizard saw an attempt to change all of this, regardless of the methods or purposes, which finally brought this muddy era back to life.

But Irving wasn't very interested in these things.

He seeks change in the wizarding world because his grandfather did.

He himself. Maybe he'll change his mind later, but not now.

Crossing the grasslands.

I walked through the bustling crowd, bathed in moonlight.

He and Dobby gradually moved to the tent closest to the stadium.

Most of those tents were unremarkable, even rudimentary.

But some, especially the ones inside, Owen saw a tent that was particularly eye-catching. It was lavishly decorated with a lot of striped silk, almost like a small palace, and there were several live peacocks tied at the entrance.

After walking a few steps, he saw another tent set up in the shape of a four-story building, with several corner towers next to it.

Further over there, in front of another tent, there is a garden, complete with bird baths, sundials, fountains, and more.

Of course, this is only considered affordable luxury.

When he actually arrived at the pure-blood wizards' camp, he realized that he had been too reserved. His little greedy habit was nothing compared to the difference between a raindrop and the ocean.

Because he saw that there was actually a manor in the camp!

Yes, it's an estate, a large estate spanning several acres!

Damn it, this completely obliterated the wizard who was setting up the tent.

There was another one, which, although it was a tent, was covered with gold thread and gemstones, with strings of pearls forming the curtains, as if afraid others wouldn't know how rich his family was.

They're just showing off their wealth like animals.

As for the Black family's tent.

From a distance, he spotted a dark green tent that covered a large area.

It looks very grand, with a lot of striped silk fabric and various patterns embroidered on the surface. From a distance, the tent looks like a small palace.

The conical spire soars into the clouds, with the dark gold Black family flag fluttering above it.

Take a shield with a mountain-shaped symbol: two pentagrams and a short sword, with two leaping greyhounds on either side of the shield.

Below, there are magnificent, gleaming gold words: The noble and oldest Black family, forever pure.

This tent stands out more than any of the surrounding tents, exuding the luxurious style that the Black family has always been known for.

But given the current state of the Black family, the tent and the sentence above are undoubtedly full of irony.

"Hey! Kyrie, over here."

Just as he was about to walk over, the tent flap was suddenly pulled open, and it was Harry.

He came out from inside.

"This tent... the Black family really is rich!" Owen said resentfully.

At that moment, Sirius Black also came out, and he happened to hear what Irving said.

"This is my parents' tent."

"And then!" Owen was practically spitting out sour juice. He suddenly remembered that he was still the heir to the Rozier family, but unfortunately, this identity hadn't brought him anything useful, not even a single shico.

"You're not using it yet!"

"I hate you rich kids the most! Are you going to say next, 'I have no interest in money'?"

"I really have no interest in money," Sirius said calmly.

"climb!"

"If you're not interested, please forward it to me, thank you! Let me bear this mundane trouble all by myself!" Owen said righteously.

He was completely unafraid that vulgar gold would taint his soul.

Let the soul become even more vulgar!

I choose gold!!!

Upon hearing this, Sirius rolled his eyes; all his money was meant for Harry.

At this moment, Harry quickly spoke up, interrupting the awkward situation.

He pulled Irving into the tent.

Excuse!

It's like stepping into a small castle.

There are seven floors inside!

It is as tall as eighty feet (24 meters).

The first floor consists of a huge living room and kitchen.

The living room has two spiral staircases leading upwards, each leading to a different floor.

Each floor has a distinct style, but the overall architectural style blends in harmoniously.

It's obvious that this was specially designed by some design masters.

Owen had never heard of such a talent among wizards, so it's possible that this was the work of a Muggle.

The living room was full of people at this time.

As soon as Irving entered, a brown-haired girl immediately ran over.

It's Hannah.

She said, "I was planning to go to your house to look for you."

"But I don't know your home address."

"I figured you'd be with Harry and the others, so I came to check on you."

Owen saw Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hannah, the twins, Ginny, and even Luna and that goofy Justin.

He even saw Neville and Seymour.

This gave him the sudden illusion of returning to Hogwarts.

"With everyone here, what are you all planning to do?"

He said softly.

Harry quickly explained, "I invited them all. Sirius's tent is big enough to accommodate dozens more people. It would be a waste if only the two of us stayed there."

"So you're all just here to freeload?" Owen rolled his eyes, then strode to the sofa and snuggled comfortably into its softness. "You should have called me sooner if you thought this was a good thing."

"I love freeloading."

(End of this chapter)