Chapter 144

After a whole day of waiting, just as night fell, the Quidditch World Cup was about to begin.

Mr. Weasley led the way, everyone held all kinds of gadgets they had bought before, and walked quickly into the woods along the passageway illuminated by lanterns.

They could hear hundreds of people moving about, shouting, laughing, and intermittent singing.

The feverish excitement was contagious, and Harry couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.

They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, and finally came out on the other side of the wood. That's when they found themselves in the shadow of a huge stadium. Harry could only see part of the magnificent golden wall that surrounded the arena, but he could see that ten cathedrals could fit within it.

"It can accommodate one hundred thousand spectators." Mr. Weasley said with a smile seeing the astonished expression on Harry's face, "The five hundred staff of the Ministry of Magic have been busy for a whole year. Every inch of the place has been painted Repelling Muggles."

As he talked, he kept on stepping, leading everyone to the nearest entrance. There, many wizards were already surrounded by shouting.

"First-class tickets." The Ministry of Magic wizard at the entrance looked at their tickets and said, "Top box! Go upstairs, Arthur, to the top."

The stairs leading to the gymnasium were covered with fuchsia carpets. They climbed up the steps with the crowd, and slowly the crowds entered the stands on the left and right.

"I am no longer with them." Luna handed out the ticket her father bought to the witch, and said in a daze.

"Oh - I would have gotten an extra ticket if I knew it earlier." Mr. Weasley said regretfully.

The Lovegoods were always short of money, and he should have thought about it, but Luna's father came too suddenly, and he had no time to prepare.

Although the Weasley family is not rich, it is better to have a position, isn't it?

The party led by Mr. Weasley went straight up and finally reached the top of the stairs. They found themselves in a small box at the top of the stadium, facing the golden goalposts.

There were twenty or so purple and gilt chairs, arranged in two rows, and they looked really good.

But Luna's position is a few floors lower, but fortunately, this is a Quidditch match! For a three-dimensional sports event, there is really not much difference in the viewing seats-it is that the seats that are too low may be a bit of a stretch to watch.

One hundred thousand wizards are taking their seats one after another, and those seats surround the oval gymnasium and are arranged upwards in a ladder shape.

Everything here is shrouded in a mysterious golden light, which seems to come from the stadium itself.

From Harry's vantage point, the field looked as smooth as velvet. On either side of the arena were three shooting hoops, fifty feet high; to their right, almost at Harry's eye level, was a huge blackboard with gold letters flashing on it, as if a An invisible giant hand scrawled and erased words on the blackboard.

Harry took a closer look, only to realize that those flashing words were advertisements for the audience in the arena.

At this moment, Hermione was eagerly leafing through her velvet-bound, fringed game booklet.

"There will be a performance by the team mascot before the game," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth seeing," said Mr. Weasley. "You know, the national teams bring some curious animals from their home countries to put on a show here."

In the next half hour, the box they were in gradually filled with people. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who seemed to be very prestigious wizards.

Percy, who had graduated to work at the Ministry of Magic, hurried to his feet again and again, looking like he was sitting on the back of a porcupine covered in spines.

When the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, himself arrived, Percy bowed too low,

The glasses fell to the floor and shattered. Embarrassed, he repaired the lens with his wand, and then sat dumbfounded in his seat.

And when Cornelius Fudge greeted Harry like an old friend, Percy gave Harry a jealous look.

Harry and Fudge had known each other before, and Fudge held Harry's hand kindly like a father, asked him how he was, and introduced him to the wizard sitting next to him.

Of course, if he knew that the person in front of him had sent Maca to Azkaban, he might not be like this now.

However, because of the deep involvement of that matter, it is still a highly confidential matter so far. Therefore, even those who work in the Ministry of Magic don't know much.

"Harry Potter, you know," Fudge called out to the Bulgarian Minister for Magic next to him - a man in rich black velvet robes trimmed with gold who didn't seem to understand a word of English, "Harry Potter Special... oh, think about it, you should know who he is... the boy who escaped from death in the hands of the mysterious man... you must know who he is, right?"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly saw the scar on Harry's forehead, and immediately pointed to it excitedly, muttering a series of words loudly.

"I always knew he'd figure it out," Fudge said wearily to Harry. "I'm not very good with languages, and when it comes to things like this, Barty Crouch is what I need. Ah, I see his The house-elf has taken a seat for him...so thoughtful, these Bulgarian fellows are always trying to get the best seats...Ah, here comes Lucius!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned away immediately.

Squeezing into the three still-vacant seats in the second row behind Mr. Weasley were the original owners of Dobby the house-elf: Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco, and a woman, ha Leigh figured she must be Draco's mother.

Lucius still had a gloomy face at the moment, but when he saw Fudge, he came over and forced a smile.

"Ah, Fudge," he said, walking up to the Minister of Magic, offering his hand. "Hello! I suppose you haven't met my wife, Narcissa? And our son, Dracora."

"Hello, hello," said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy, "permit me to introduce you to Mr. Minister, it doesn't matter, he doesn't understand what I'm saying anyway. Let me see who else - you know Arthur Weasley?"

Lucius glanced at Mr. Weasley, and quickly looked away - he didn't have the energy to argue with Weasley, he was worrying now!

Not long after, after everyone chatted for a while, Ludo Bagman, director of the Sports Department of the Ministry of Magic, rushed into the box full of energy.

"Is everyone ready?" His round face shone like a giant ball of cheese. "Minister, can we start?"

"Just start as you said, Ludo." Fudge smiled.

Ludo drew his wand, pointed to his throat and said, "Loud!"

Then his words thundered through the packed stadium. His voice echoed above their heads, resounding to every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to watch the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

The audience immediately burst into bursts of cheers and applause.

Thousands of flags were waved at the same time, accompanied by the chaotic national anthem, the scene was really lively. On the chalkboard across from them, the last line of advertising "Bibi's Bean Flavor - Every Bite is an Adventure!" has been erased and now reads:

"Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0."

"Okay, without further ado, please allow me to introduce... the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stand was a neat bright red square formation, and loud cheers erupted there at this moment.

"Wonder what they brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning out of his seat. "Ah!" He took off his glasses abruptly, and hurriedly wiped them on his robe, "Vela!"

"What is Mei—"

Seeing that a hundred veela had already slid towards the arena, Harry's question was answered.

Veela was a woman - the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen in his life! But they don't look like real people—why their skin is as bright and soft as the moon, and why their hair flutters behind their heads without the wind...

Just then, the music started, and Harry stopped thinking about whether she was real - in fact, he couldn't think about anything.

The veela started dancing, and Harry's mind went blank except for a sense of overwhelming joy.

Nothing in the world mattered as long as he could keep looking at the veela, because if they stopped dancing something terrible would happen...

And directly opposite Harry's box, in the top box on the other side of the arena, a small figure was also looking at those veela with fascination.

She just watched so quietly, without the slightest expression on her face, but there was a sense of loneliness invisible.

"Willy, don't worry, it has nothing to do with you." A middle-aged man comforted her softly beside her.

"It's okay, Dad."

That little figure was none other than Willy Blois, who was specially brought from Hogwarts by her father to watch the match.

On the other hand, as the veela danced faster and faster, some wild, shapeless thoughts began to whirl in Harry's bewildered mind.

He wanted to do something really great, and he wanted to do it now. How about jumping from the box into the gym? Looks good...but is it exciting enough?

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione's voice came from afar.

The music stopped, and Harry blinked blankly.

He stood there with one leg propped against the wall of the box. Beside him, Ron remained motionless in a pose as if he was about to dive off the diving board.

Hermione smacked her mouth loudly, and she reached out to pull Harry back into his seat.

"Oh, why are you doing this! If Maca were here, he wouldn't be as shameful as you are!"

On the side, when Fudge heard the name "Maca", an unnatural look flashed across his face.