A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

Sirius Black scoffed, “See? Neither of them are good people. Crouch thought the same thing about me this afternoon. I think he’s finally gone mad.”

Felix, sitting in the second row, rubbed his chin. Was he about to witness a showdown today, with the Director of the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation facing off against the current Minister of Magic?

It's a pity there were no reporters.

Mr. Weasley stood up, trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, and said hesitantly, "Mr. Crouch..."

Barty Crouch seemed to finally regain his senses. He opened his mouth but said nothing, hastily uttered a few apologies, and turned to leave. Only Fudge, panting heavily and with bloodshot eyes, remained on the scene.

As Crouch left, Harry suddenly felt a sharp pain in his forehead, as if a branding iron had been applied to his skin.

He covered his forehead, trying his best to keep quiet. Only Sirius and Ron, who were sitting on either side of him, noticed something was wrong. Sirius asked in a low voice, "What's wrong, Harry? Is your scar hurting again?"

But then, the Quidditch World Cup final officially began, and the huge cheers drowned out his concern.

Ludo Bagman cast a powerful incantation on himself, and then his words resounded like thunder throughout the entire stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup Final!"

Chapter 339 The Exciting Final Match

A burst of cheers and applause erupted from the audience, creating a lively atmosphere.

However, the atmosphere in the small box hadn't thawed; everyone's expressions were stiff. Harry felt the pain in his forehead lessen, but his mind was in turmoil, filled with inexplicable suspicion. He didn't know if the pain in his scar was related to Barty Crouch, or if it was all just a coincidence…

'But what if it isn't?' A voice rose in his mind, and Harry knew what he was thinking—Professor Quirrell, a first-year student.

'But Mr. Crouch wasn't wearing a big scarf on his head!'

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hey Harry, are you alright? That was pretty unexpected... But, well," he looked around, trying to find something interesting, "how did Bagman get so energetic?"

Indeed, Ludo Bagman had just looked terrified, but now, as he hosted the Quidditch World Cup final, his voice was filled with passion and joy, as if he had completely forgotten about Fudge.

"...Let's welcome the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

Harry looked listlessly toward the arena, showing little interest in the pre-match mascot performance Hermione had mentioned, but his attention was soon drawn to it—"It's Veela!" Mr. Weasley hurriedly wiped his glasses.

A hundred Veela glided onto the arena. The Veela were women, incredibly beautiful women; in fact, more than one person wondered if they might not be real. Their skin glowed, their hair flowed gracefully behind them, and they exuded a powerful allure. This allure easily captivated the entire audience, especially when they began to dance.

Felix smiled and pulled Arik McKee down from his chair, who had just suddenly stood up, wanting to dance. But he wasn't the only one who lost his composure; those who were meeting the Veela for the first time and were least prepared were more susceptible to being tricked.

Felix's gaze swept over everyone. The Veela's appearance warmed up the atmosphere in the box. Hermione smacked her lips loudly and reached out to pull Harry and Ron back to their seats. "Oh dear, what's wrong with you two!" she said.

The Irish goblins' performance was also unforgettable. These little figures, dressed in red vests and with beards, moved back and forth above the huge stadium, forming various shapes of fireworks. Finally, they formed a giant, dazzling clover, which hovered above the audience and showered them with gold coins, like golden raindrops.

“It’s fake,” Kremy said, picking up a gold coin, though she continued collecting with great interest.

Next, Ludo Bagman enthusiastically introduced the two teams, focusing on each team's seekers. When the names of Krum and Lynch appeared, they drew enthusiastic responses from the audience.

The game started.

The two national teams displayed tremendous strength; they were so fast that their faces were blurred, and the field was filled with indistinct red and green shadows. Ludo Bagman only had time to announce their names and tactical names.

"The ball is in Mallet's hands! He passed it to Troy! Now it's with Moran! Dimitrov! Mallet! It's Troy again!"

Bagman screamed, "Eagle Head attacking formation! Watch... Goal! Troy scores, tactical success, 10-0, Ireland takes the lead!" He roared passionately, and the whole stadium cheered.

The game is still going on.

"Troy again! The Quaffle is still on Ireland's side! You should see—oh my god! Ireland is launching another attack! Moran! Mallett!"

"Pokov's feint! Failed... Brilliant! A back pass! This time it's Moran!"

Ireland quickly took a 30-0 lead when Bagman suddenly shouted, "Look at the two Seekers—Krum and Lynch, they've found something and are tangled up—oh no! Therapist, come on! Lynch's fallen to the ground! That was a feint! Stop the game!"

Clemi, holding up her binoculars, asked curiously, "What happened? Where's the Golden Snitch? What were those two doing just now?"

Alec McKee exclaimed excitedly, "It was a feint by Lonski, pretending to spot the thief, then suddenly diving to lure his opponent in, and then—" He pointed to Lynch, who looked dazed and as if he were walking on clouds, his nose and face covered in blood.

Felix stared at the arena, while Krum, who had won this contest of pure skill, hovered high above the stadium, using the rare, undisturbed time to search for the Golden Snitch.

A few minutes later, Lynch recovered and the game continued.

"It's so intense..." Felix said, noting that Ireland had scored ten more goals in just over ten minutes. They were now leading 130-10.

“Yes, it was so intense. I’ve never seen such a great game,” Arik McGee agreed.

“…If it ends too quickly, the light show won’t be very effective.” Felix finished speaking, and Arik was speechless at his idea, opening his mouth several times but not knowing how to respond. Kremy giggled.

As the score widened, various minor fouls occurred on the field. Bagman continued to perform his duties as host and commentator, saying, "The Bulgarian team's elbowing action was too excessive, a typical foul... That's right, the referee blew the whistle and awarded a penalty!"

The atmosphere off the field was also tense, with mascots and supporters of both teams shouting angrily and waving their fists. But the score continued its irreversible trend, widening to 140-10.

"Coming to this competition was definitely the right decision!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. While watching the intense match, he also took a moment to peek at the Veela and the Pikachu fighting in a corner of the arena. "The Veela doesn't look very pretty when she gets angry, but who cares! Kicking that bearded man's ass is the way to go!"

“Ron—”

At that moment, a gasp rippled through the stadium as Ireland's Seeker, Lynch, suddenly accelerated and swooped down. Through binoculars, bloodstains could be seen on his nose, with Krum close behind.

Bagman exclaimed in the commentary: "The two Seekers suddenly accelerate! Could this be a feint? Lynch's revenge? Oh—they're getting faster and faster, not slowing down! Not slowing down! I see the Golden Snitch—"

One hundred thousand spectators held their breath, while only the two teams of mascots in the corner continued to fight.

The two seekers, side by side, swooped down towards the ground, each stretching out one hand, trying their best to extend their arms—

"boom!"

Lynch crashed heavily to the ground, while Krum spiraled upwards, clutching the thief in his hand.

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

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Bagman said, still a little dazed, "Bulgaria's Seeker, Krum, caught the Golden Snitch, but... Ireland is still leading in the standings—"

He double-checked, then was overwhelmed with immense joy: "Ireland has won! After thirty years! My God, I don't think anyone expected this outcome!"

“I really didn’t expect this,” Felix muttered. “The match was over in less than an hour, who would have thought! Arik, Kremy, Remus… We should go and get ready for the light show. Maybe the audience will be gone by tomorrow.”

“Mr. Heip, may I stay for just a little while? I’d like to watch the awards ceremony,” Arik pleaded.

“Alright, then come back later,” Felix said. “Kremy, Remus, what about you?”

Neither of them seemed particularly interested in the awards ceremony. They left with Felix, and as they passed the Malfoy family, Draco greeted them with a reserved air: "Professor Hyp, hello." He was dressed in a crisp black suit, and his hair was neatly styled.

"Hello." Felix smiled and nodded at him. "I look forward to your performance this year."

He glanced at Lucius beside him, walked past him, and said in a soft, amiable voice, "Think about what we talked about before... I'm still waiting for your response, Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy looked uneasy, unconsciously gripping his cane tighter. "Of course, I'll give you an answer." Narcissa was surprised by her husband's attitude and looked at him suspiciously.

Lucius shook his head, offering no explanation.

As Felix and the others left the box, they heard the Bulgarian minister calmly say, "I said, our lads fought very bravely."

"So you can speak English!" Fudge said angrily. "But you've made me just gesture all day!"

“Hey, that’s a lot of fun,” the Bulgarian minister said, shrugging.

"That was funny..." Fudge panted, his nostrils flaring, wishing he could punch the guy. If it weren't for him, none of that mess would have happened...

After calming down, Fudge also felt that Crouch's attitude was a bit off. Could it be that he was under too much pressure lately?

As Clemi passed by the front row, she happened to say to Felix, "Ha~ I heard this uncle's perfect pronunciation earlier, and I thought I misheard..."

Fudge's expression suddenly became quite interesting, and the Bulgarian minister broke into a smile.

Felix pulled her along quickly downstairs, past tiers of the stands. Their previous penthouse box was magically illuminated, and Ludo Bagman was already welcoming the two teams of Quidditch players into the box.

The Irish supporters erupted in deafening celebrations, while the Bulgarian fans looked utterly dejected, still reeling from the blow.

Kremy said, "They were really pitiful, trailing by a large margin... hoping for a turnaround, and when the turnaround actually came, it was too late to turn things around..."

“Vera—” Felix said.

Two or three Bulgarian fans glared at her, and belatedly realizing what was happening, she hunched her shoulders and moved to the other side of Felix.

Lupin walked behind with a smile.

When they reached the ground, the victors' procession was soaring above the stadium, circling the field accompanied by their mascots.

"Thankfully, there was no overcrowding," Lupin said. "We made it in time."

Felix muttered, "I'm worried about the fans causing trouble after the loss. I hope the Ministry of Magic will step in."

Chapter 340 The Lantern Festival and the Unexpected

They returned to the camp along the lantern-lit path, and the group took out various magic lamps from the large tent and piled them up into a small mountain.

“Except for those two ‘big guys,’ the rest are all here,” Kremy said.

Lupin smiled and said, "Felix, your plan still surprises me a bit. I've been waiting for this day." Kremy also looked at him expectantly.

Felix shrugged, pressed his wand against his forehead, and wisps of silver light appeared at the tip of the wand.

"Sigh~"

Felix gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath, "The model is so exquisitely made that it's a bit of a hassle to take it out. It feels like scooping a spoonful out of my brain..."

Kremy gave him a disdainful look; the professor's description was too bizarre.

Felix drew a long, silvery memory from his brain, coiled it into a ball, and grasped it in his palm. Then he stretched out his hand, and golden and silver threads intertwined in the air, slowly forming a hexagonal, snowflake-like open-air corridor in his hand. At the center of the snowflake corridor was a palm-sized vortex that was constantly churning. Felix waved his wand with his other hand, and magical lamps poured into the vortex and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Under their watchful eyes, the snowflake-shaped building, six or seven feet in size, gently floated up and flew into the air, expanding continuously until it occupied almost half of the camp. Then, Felix pointed his wand downwards, and the snowflake building plummeted down. Kremy cried out in surprise, and the next second, she found herself in a magnificent corridor.

In the long corridor, magical lamps of various shapes appear and disappear.

Then, Felix cast a levitation spell on himself, lifting himself thirty or forty feet into the air, making him look like a giant kite in the night, swaying and drifting in the wind.

He looked down from his vantage point, pointed his wand, and a corner of the snowflake corridor extended outwards, connecting to the road leading back from the stadium.

Felix landed from mid-air. "Alright, that's about right. Let's take a little more time to fine-tune—"

“Professor Hyp, what kind of magic is this?” Clemi asked from across the railing of the corridor.

"Hmm, how about calling it 'Always Granted... Mind Cottage'?"

"The 'Wish-Fulfilling Mind Hut'." Kremi pondered the name; it sounded strange, but as her hand passed through the pillars of the corridor, it made sense.

……

The Weasleys, Harry, Sirius, and Hermione were swept along by the surging crowd, jostling and pushing each other until they left the stadium, where they continued to discuss the outcome of the match.

Little goblins kept flying overhead, each carrying a small golden or green lamp, laughing merrily in mid-air.

"Ireland's chasers are fantastic, no, every single one of them is fantastic, their teamwork is seamless. Bulgaria only has one absolutely outstanding player, Krum, but their teamwork is problematic, very problematic," Charlie commented.