A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 341: The Spectacular Final

A burst of cheers and applause erupted from the audience stands, creating an extraordinary buzz.

However, the atmosphere inside the private box hadn't thawed from its icy demeanor; everyone's expressions remained stiff. While Harry felt his forehead wasn't as painful, his mind was a mess, entangled in inexplicable suspicions. He wasn't sure if the pain in his scar was related to Barty Crouch Jr. Perhaps it was all just coincidental...

"What if it's not?" a voice emerged in his mind. Harry knew what he was thinking—Professor Quirrell from his first year.

"But Mr. Crouch certainly didn't wear a big scarf on his head!"

Ron placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Hey, Harry, you okay? That was quite unexpected earlier... Anyway, um," he looked around, trying to find something interesting, "speaking of surprises, how did Krum get so energetic?"

Indeed, just moments ago, Viktor Krum had looked rather scared, but now, as he presided over the Quidditch World Cup final, his voice was filled with passion and joy, as if he had completely forgotten about Winky.

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

Harry looked out onto the field, not particularly interested in the pre-match mascot performance that Hermione had mentioned to him. However, his attention was soon captivated, "It's Veela!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, hurriedly polishing his glasses with excitement.

A hundred Veela glided onto the pitch, beautiful women, incredibly beautiful women. In fact, more than one person had thought: they might not be human. The Veela's skin glowed, their hair swayed gracefully behind them, exuding a powerful allure. Especially when they began to dance, this charm effortlessly captured the attention of the entire audience.

Felix smiled as he pulled a rambunctious Ludo Bagman back from trying to respond to the Veela, who had tempted even Cedric Diggory to stand on his chair, wanting to join the dance. But he wasn't the only one who lost control; those who were seeing Veela for the first time, those unprepared, were more susceptible to their charm.

Felix's gaze swept over the crowd; the appearance of the Veela had warmed up the atmosphere in the box. Hermione let out a loud snort of disapproval, pulling Harry and Ron back into their seats. "Oh, come on, what's gotten into you two!" she scolded.

The Irish leprechauns' performance that followed was also unforgettable. These little people, dressed in red jackets and sporting beards, flitted back and forth above the enormous stadium, forming various shapes of fireworks. Finally, they assembled into a massive, dazzling shamrock, hovering above the spectators' heads, showering them with a cascade of golden coins, like drops of golden rain.

"Fake," said Hermione, picking up one of the coins. Nevertheless, she still excitedly gathered them.

Next, Ludo Bagman enthusiastically introduced the teams of the match, focusing on the Seekers from each side. When the names of Krum and Lynch were announced, the audience responded with enthusiasm.

The match began.

Both national teams displayed immense strength, moving so fast that faces became blurred, and the field was filled with indistinct red and green shadows. Ludo Bagman could barely manage to call out their names and tactical maneuvers.

"The Quaffle's with Mullet! Passed to Troy! Now over to Moran! Dimitrov! Mullet! Back to Troy!"

Bagman shrieked, "Falcon formation in play! Watch out... It's in! Troy scores, tactical success, 10:0, Ireland takes the lead!" He bellowed with excitement, and the whole stadium erupted into cheers.

The match continued—

"Another one for Troy! The Quaffle's still on Ireland's side! You must've noticed—oh, my goodness! Ireland is launching another attack! Moran! Mullet!"

"Porskoff Ploy failed... Pass back! Spectacular! Moran this time!"

Soon, Ireland was leading 30:0, and Bagman suddenly yelled, "Look at the Seekers—Krum and Lynch, they seem to have discovered something, they're tangled up—oh, dear! Healer on the field! Lynch is down! Faked it! Match paused!"

Clutching her binoculars, Cho asked curiously, "What's going on? The Golden Snitch, those two just did something?"

Alec Hopkins excitedly explained, "Lanczy Feint, pretended to spot the Snitch, dived suddenly, lured the opposition, then—" he gestured toward Lynch, who was dazed and seemed to be floating on a cloud, his nose and face bloody, "That's the result of a loser, damn luck." He muttered under his breath.

Felix kept his eyes on the field. Krum, who had triumphed in this clash of brute strength, was now hovering high in the stadium, taking advantage of the rare and undistracted moment to search for the Golden Snitch's glimmer.

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

"Too intense," Felix remarked. In just a short ten minutes, Ireland had scored ten consecutive goals. They were now leading 130:10.

"Yeah, it's intense. I've never seen such an exciting match," agreed Alec Hopkins.

"... If it ends too quickly, the light show won't be as good." Felix finished his sentence, leaving Alec momentarily speechless, trying and failing several times to pick up the conversation. Cho Chang giggled.

As the score widened, various small actions played out on the field. Bagman continued his duties as host and commentator, "Bulgaria's Chaser with an excessive elbow movement, classic foul... Yes, the referee's blown his whistle, he's awarded a penalty!"

Outside the stadium, tension was palpable; both teams' mascots and supporters were shouting angrily, shaking their fists. But the score expanded irreversibly to 140:10.

"This match is turning out to be a perfect choice!" exclaimed Ron excitedly. He watched the intense game and, in the corners of his eyes, the scuffle between the Veela and the leprechauns. "The Veela throwing a tantrum doesn't seem too pretty, but who cares! Kick that big-bearded guy's butt, exactly!"

"Ron—"

At this moment, a cry rang out across the pitch as Ireland's Seeker, Lynch, suddenly accelerated in a dive. Through the telescope, you could still see traces of blood on his nostrils, with Krum closely trailing behind him.

Bagman's booming commentary filled the air, "Both Seekers accelerating unexpectedly! Could this be a feint? Is Lynch seeking revenge? Oh—they're getting faster and faster, no slowing down! No slowing down! I see the Golden Snitch—"

The hundred thousand spectators held their breath, while the two teams' mascots continued to brawl in the corners.

The two Seekers raced neck and neck, hurtling toward the ground, extending a hand each, straining their arms to the limit—

"Thud!"

Lynch crashed heavily onto the ground, and Krum spiraled upwards, clutching the Snitch.

The score on the scoreboard flickered: Bulgaria 160, Ireland 170. Yet, the audience seemed to be slow in realizing what had just happened.

Stammering for a few seconds, Bagman finally said, dazedly, "Bulgaria's Seeker Krum caught the Golden Snitch, but... the live score still has Ireland in the lead—"

He double-checked his notes, then was enveloped by a tremendous wave of elation. "Ireland wins! After thirty years! Merlin's beard, who could've expected this outcome!"

"Indeed unexpected," muttered Felix. "The match ends in less than an hour. Who could have foreseen that? Alec, Clementine, Lymes... we should head out, prepare for the light show. The audience might be leaving tomorrow."

"Mr. Harp, may I stay, just for a while? I want to see the award ceremony." Alec requested.

"Very well, then come back later," Felix said. "Clementine, Lymes, what about you?"

Neither of them was particularly interested in the awards. They left with Felix, passing by the Malfoy family. Draco greeted them politely, "Professor Harp, good evening." He was dressed impeccably in a black suit, his hair neatly styled.

"Hello," Felix smiled, nodding at him. "Looking forward to your performance this year."

He glanced at Lucius next to him, passing by him, and gently whispered, "Think about what we discussed earlier... I'm still awaiting your response, Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy seemed somewhat uncomfortable, involuntarily gripping his wand tighter. "Of course, I will provide an answer," Narcissa observed her husband's behavior with surprise, looking at him skeptically.

Lucius shook his head, not offering any explanation.

As they exited the box, Felix and his companions heard the Bulgarian Minister's composed voice saying, "I must say, our lads played bravely."

"Turns out you can speak English!" Fudge exclaimed with annoyance. "But you had me gesturing around here all day!"

"Hey, don't you find it amusing?" the Bulgarian Minister shrugged, nonchalant.

Amusing... Fudge panted, his nostrils flaring; he felt like punching the guy, especially after all that nonsense from earlier...

Once he cooled down, Fudge began to feel that Crouch's behavior had been a bit off. Could it be due to recent pressure?

As Clementine passed by the front row, she happened to remark to Felix, "Ha, I've actually heard this uncle's proper English pronunciation before. I thought I was mistaken..."

Fudge's expression suddenly became quite interesting, and a smile spread across the Bulgarian Minister's face.

Felix hurriedly led her downstairs, passing through the layers of audience stands. The top-tier box they had been in was magically illuminated. Ludo Bagman had already started to welcome the Quidditch players from both teams into the box.

The supporters of the Irish team erupted into deafening cheers, while the fans supporting the Bulgarian team looked utterly lost, not yet having recovered from the shock.

Standing at a neutral angle, Clementine said, "They are indeed pitiable, trailing by such a huge margin... hoping for a turnaround that never came..."

"Veela—" Felix began to say.josei

Three or four Bulgarian fans glared at her, and she belatedly hunched her shoulders, taking refuge on Felix's other side.

Lupin smiled as he followed behind them.

As they reached the ground, the victorious team soared above them, the Irish players completing a lap around the pitch with their mascots.

"At least there's no crowding." Lupin remarked, "We have plenty of time."

Felix mumbled, "I was worried about rowdy behavior from the losing fans. I hope the Ministry of Magic steps in."

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