I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 238 Dumbledore: I feel like I'm back at Hogwarts!

One by one, the little goblins rose into the air.

They rudely spat at Dimitrov and his teammates.

Some people even threw gold coins at others.

Others targeted the Vevas, picking up mud from the ground and throwing it at them.

Mud splattered on their beautiful faces, adding a shadow to their perfection.

Then the Veelas also went out of control.

This time they didn't dance; instead, they flew across the arena and began throwing handfuls of flame-like objects at the goblins.

The entire competition venue was transformed into a sea of ​​flames, with the grass below ablaze.

Now, the Veelas don't look beautiful at all.

Instead, their faces became elongated, turning into pointed bird heads with sharp beaks.

A pair of long, scale-covered wings were emerging from their shoulders.

This is another form of Veela; they are a fickle race (literally).

"You understand now, children!" Mr. Weasley's voice boomed over the murmur of the crowd. "Remember, you must never be concerned with appearances alone!"

On the field, the officials not only had to extinguish the flames, but also had to allocate manpower to deal with the Veela and the goblins.

Every now and then, the Bulgarians would launch shameful sneak attacks from above, but the curse would just brush past them.

Meanwhile, the two teams high in the air also became savage.

In retaliation against the Bulgarians.

Ireland's batter Quigley used all his strength to hit a stray ball at Krum, who couldn't dodge in time and was hit head-on by the stray ball.

Deafening complaints erupted from the audience.

Krum's nose looked broken, and blood was flowing everywhere, but Hassan Mustafa did not blow the whistle.

He might have done it on purpose.

But it could also be because Veela was throwing fire at him, distracting him from the game.

This was originally a world-class Quidditch match.

It is a contest of skill and sweat, a duel of tactical wisdom and on-the-spot thinking.

Now it seems that the duel really did happen.

However, it has been changed to close-quarters combat in a physical sense.

The stadium was filled with the screams of Veela, the crackling of wands cast by ministry officials, the angry roars of Bulgarians, and the inaudible cheers of Irish supporters.

This was the most chaotic match Harry had ever seen; it was completely devoid of any skill or entertainment value.

It was almost comparable to the chaotic battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin at Hogwarts.

"Why don't you pause!" Ron yelled.

"Didn't you see Krum is injured?"

"I don't think Hassan Mustagh saw it!" Harry stared at the arena, then suddenly shouted, "Look at Lynch!"

Ron looked over immediately.

On the field, Lin Qi, who had fallen to the ground, suddenly stood up unsteadily.

His right hand was visibly deformed, likely due to a fracture.

Instead of seeking treatment, he rode a broomstick and soared into the sky.

"He saw the Golden Snitch!" Harry screamed. "He could only have seen the Golden Snitch!"

In Quidditch, each position can only do what it is supposed to do.

For example, the Golden Snitch can only be caught by the Seeker; anyone else catching it will be considered a foul.

The only thing that could motivate Lynch to go to such lengths is that he has discovered the trail of the Golden Snitch.

Otherwise, his reckless takeoff—if he were to get injured again—would leave Ireland, without their Seeker, with no choice but to hand over the Golden Snitch to the Bulgarians.

Half of the audience realized what was going on.

Ireland's supporters rose to their feet again, creating another green wave as they cheered for their Seeker.

The Bulgarian team also realized what was happening.

Krum followed closely behind.

He didn't even care about his bleeding nose.

Accelerate at full speed, and let the blood splatter behind him!

He absolutely cannot let Lynch catch the Golden Thief!

At this moment, Krum revealed his flying talent. He could always find the most tricky angles and the fastest way to keep up with the Golden Snitch, and soon he was parallel to Lynch.

Suddenly, a golden light flashed before my eyes, and the light shot straight to the ground!

The two seekers had no time to worry about anything else at that moment, and braced themselves to drive their brooms straight into the ground at a 90-degree angle.

"They're going to fall to the ground!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"No way!" Ron shouted fervently.

"Lin Qi will!" Harry shouted.

As an excellent Seeker, Harry knows all too well the process of a broom rising rapidly during a descent.

You have to pull the broom up as high as you can, right up close to the ground. If you go beyond that distance, you'll just fall straight to the ground.

With flying brooms becoming increasingly faster, controlling this extreme distance is becoming more and more difficult.

He still hasn't found the most suitable position.

As for Lynch and Krum, all Harry can say is that if Lynch's arm hadn't been injured, he might have been able to pull up the broom at the last moment, but now he only has one hand.

It was almost inevitable that he would fall to the ground.

He—had already disregarded everything.

------

Harry's prediction was correct!

With a "bang," Lin Qi fell heavily to the ground for the second time, and a group of angry Veelas immediately swarmed around him.

If it weren't for the magical protective suit he was wearing, he would have smashed the person into a pulp.

"Where's the Golden Snitch? Where's the Golden Snitch?" George and Fred shouted from the side.

"He got it—Krum got it—the match is over!" Harry responded.

Krum's crimson robe was speckled with blood from his nose. He rose lightly into the air, raised his fist high, and a golden light shone through his fingers.

The scoreboard flashed the scores: Bulgaria: 160, Ireland: 170, but the audience didn't seem to realize what was going on.

Then, slowly, like a giant jet accelerating, the chatter of the Irish supporters grew louder and louder, finally erupting into countless joyful shouts.

"Ireland has won!" shouted Ludo from the sports department, seemingly bewildered by the sudden end of the match. "Krum caught the Golden Snitch, but Ireland still won! Good heavens, I don't think anyone expected this outcome!"

"Lynch is a hero!" Harry exclaimed. "Even though Krut caught the Golden Snitch!"

"That's right." Ron nodded approvingly. "He clearly had a chance to push the price up, he had a million chances, but he didn't. He chose to take a gamble!"

This is real Quidditch!

This is what a competition should be like!

Haha—this is the most exciting, bravest, and most dramatic match I've ever seen!

Ron laughed happily; this was the best ending.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!!!"

The scene was filled with celebratory shouts.

The game is over, but the chaos is not.

During a break in the celebrations, a large number of wizards poured into the stadium from the stands, including goblins, Veela, officials from the ministry struggling to maintain order, and oh! our dear referee Hassan Mustafa, who was swarmed and tackled by a group of Bulgarians, who then started punching him—a bunch of wizards, but now they're putting on a real fight.

"Oh my God!"

Amid Harry's gasp, Hassan Mustafa was knocked down with a single punch.

However, the Egyptian wizard did not writhe on the ground with a grimacing expression. Although he was over fifty years old, he was exceptionally strong. He got up from the ground and jumped up to deliver an elbow strike to the Bulgarian wizard who was at least a head taller than him.

Then he drew out the spell, and with a "whoosh," two spells struck the guy who was clutching his stomach and had tears welling up in his eyes with perfect accuracy.

"How embarrassing!"

In the stands, Owen, Hermione, and Harry couldn't bear to watch any longer.

You don't even see this kind of hand-to-hand combat at Hogwarts anymore, not even in the brawls of the first-year students.

At Hogwarts, if a first-year student gets into a fight and doesn't throw out a spell, you'd be embarrassed to admit you're a wizard.

But at the World Cup, the adult wizards told us...

Wizards—it's only truly satisfying when every punch lands on you!

On the viewing platform, Mr. Ludo of the Department of Magical Sports shouted anxiously, repeatedly ordering the wizards from the Ministry of Magic beside him to go down and stop the group of madmen from continuing their fight.

But the number of people around him is decreasing, while the number of wizards under him is increasing.

But the riots showed no signs of stopping; on the contrary, they escalated.

Minister Barty Crouch, on the other hand, sat in his chair, looking rather old-fashioned, without saying a word.

Although his face also looked rather pale, he didn't seem as flustered as Mr. Ludo.

"A bunch of Quidditch thugs." As Minister of Magic, he had his pride.

Besides, given the current situation, there's not much he can do.

The department was already short-staffed, and the Aurors have suffered heavy losses this year.

Moreover, even if the ministry has enough manpower, there are 100,000 wizards in front of them, not 100,000 pigs—even if there were 100,000 pigs, they wouldn't be able to catch them all in a short time.

The reason he remained calm and unperturbed was because of the wizard sitting next to him.

The chaos at the scene escalated, and it seemed they were determined to finish the fight that hadn't been completed that morning.

Finally, Whitebeard—Gandalf—Dumbledore got up.

He wore a magnificent deep purple wizard's robe covered with silver stars, a matching purple tall wizard's hat, and exquisite black and red dragon leather boots.

The dull thud of leather boots on the metal stands echoed.

The surrounding wizards, pure-blood wizards, and other onlookers noticed this scene.

Everyone turned to look this way.

The old principal walked towards the fence.

Behind the crescent-shaped eyes were a pair of deep blue eyes.

He peered down at the brawl taking place below the stadium.

To be honest, it gave him a strong sense of déjà vu. It seemed like this scene had happened countless times at Hogwarts.

He even doubted whether he could spot that familiar figure among the crowd below.

"Sigh!" Dumbledore sighed inwardly.

These wizards are worse than children.

—Fighting still involves using fists.

Then, he slightly raised his arm.

"Separate left and right!!!"

It's clearly the most common spell in the standard third-grade spellbook.

At this moment, however, it was a rainbow of white light, its aura overwhelming the heavens.

Like a guardian deity's spell, silver silk cascaded down from the viewing platform.

It was like a torrential downpour.

Then, the silver threads transformed into invisible high walls.

Inside the arena, the wizards were in complete disarray, along with the goblins and Veela.

It was as if a high wall had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

An invisible resistance pulled them all apart.

"What happened?"

"How could I—"

"Look!"

Countless believers looked up at the sky.

The moon is nowhere to be seen when one looks up.

On the viewing platform, the white-bearded old man lowered his eyes, a hint of displeasure showing in his moon-like, silent gaze.

Upon seeing this, everyone unconsciously stopped what they were doing.

They stared blankly at Dumbledore on the fence.

Whether it was fear, fervor, or shame.

At that moment, it was as if they were all guilty.

You must repent to the gods.

"Oh—ladies and gentlemen—I think we should proceed with the awards ceremony," Dumbledore said calmly.

But the sound drifted into the ears of everyone present like a gentle spring breeze and drizzle.

At this point, Ludo Bagman from the Sports Department finally realized what was happening.

He tightened his sleeves, approaching Dumbledore with the nervousness of someone stepping into Hogwarts for the first time.

Quietly—he kept a certain distance from the legendary wizard, staying further back.

"Now, let the Irish team circle the field once, accompanied by their mascots, and the Quidditch World Cup trophy will be brought to the grandstand!" Bagman announced in his booming voice.

Many wizards were suddenly blinded by a dazzling light, and the viewing platform was miraculously illuminated, allowing all the spectators in the stands to see what was happening inside.

Harry squinted at the entrance and saw two panting wizards carrying a large golden cup into the box, handing it to—well—the two wizards looked somewhat bewildered.

Normally, the award ceremony should be presided over by Minister of Magic Barty Crach, but now—

Dumbledore smiled slightly, waved his hand, and returned to his seat, indicating that he had no intention of presenting the award.

Ludo breathed a slight sigh of relief; he had no idea how he was going to navigate between Dumbledore and Barty Crouch.

"Let's give a warm round of applause to welcome the Bulgarian team, who, though defeated, are still fighting bravely, to the stage!"

Several members of the defeated Bulgarian team then went upstairs to the viewing platform.

The audience below applauded, perhaps as a sign of their appreciation, but Owen felt they applauded more because it was the right time for them; Dumbledore wanted them to applaud, so they had to.

It's that simple—

"Oh! Look! That's Ginny!" Suddenly, Ron, with his sharp eyes, spotted a familiar figure in the corner of the viewing platform, sitting small on the very edge of the chair that belonged to the Ministry of Magic officials.

"The person next to him is Percy!"

"Oh my god! Percy secretly took Ginny to the viewing platform!" Ron exclaimed, then said jealously, "He didn't even tell me we could go up there!!!"

He would never think of me about something like this!

"That's easy!" Owen stretched from his chair, then slowly sat up. "Wig, white stockings, little skirt—cut off the root of all worries, and from now on be a strong girl. I guarantee Percy will think of you no matter what she does!"

"Screw you, Owen!" Ron yelled, then turned his head away in a huff.

He had the lowest status in the family.

In the Weasley family, the one who holds the highest position is naturally Mrs. Molly, their mother.

Next came Ginny, followed by the other children and Mr. Arthur.

There was nothing we could do; our family of seven children only had one youngest daughter.

In any family, this would make them spoil their daughter rotten.

Over time.

The scene finally became lively again.

The match is over.

Ireland won!

This is definitely a day to celebrate for the British.

As Irving left the stadium box, he took the commemorative pocket watch with him, intending to edit the video later and cut out the fight scenes.

It's too bloody and violent. How can children watch this kind of thing?

Of course, I would keep it for myself and watch it secretly at night.

On the way back to the camp, the crowds were like a tidal wave.

As they walked back along the lantern-lit path, rough singing filled the night sky. Little goblins flew and darted above them, waving their lanterns and laughing merrily.

Finally, they reached the tent, but no one wanted to sleep.

Everyone sat around the sofa, chatting and laughing.

Irving enthusiastically took out his commemorative pocket watch.

He then showed the magical gadget to Harry and Ron.

He gently moved the button to the left, and the date on the pocket watch began to slowly advance. When it returned to the time he had recorded, he pressed the button again, and the pocket watch suddenly emitted a very soft, pale blue light.

The rays of light connected into threads, then wove together to form a huge, miniature stadium that looked like a 3D projection.

"My God!" Ron's eyes widened. "This—this is the match that just happened!"

"That's not all!" At this moment, Owen transformed into Iron Man Tony Stark, holding up the magic charm and chanting incantations. As the most exquisite alchemical product, the pocket watch's operating instructions were controlled by ancient runes, and many delicate operations required the use of magic charms.

The Phoenix Wand emitted a ray of red light, and Owen held it up, casting spells back and forth on the pocket watch.

Then, the originally blue and white virtual image gradually began to fill in colors.

"It can do this too." He waved his wand gently, and the image suddenly became huge, almost filling the entire tent. He then manipulated other runes, and the image quickly shrank until it was only the size of a palm, resting on his left hand.

"Zoom in, zoom out, adjust colors, adjust sound. It can do everything you can think of."

"I'm planning to hold a movie screening at Hogwarts after school starts. I'm sure many young wizards won't be able to watch the games live!" Owen curled up on the sofa, his body so limp he practically merged with the fluffy cushions behind him. "Ten silver dollars a ticket isn't expensive, is it?"

"There are probably over a thousand people at Hogwarts. If each person watches it once, that's ten thousand silver sieges, roughly fifty-eight galleons. If I play it a few more times, I can make a little over a hundred galleons!"

"Hmm—it's not much, but every little bit helps!"

(End of this chapter)