Chapter 153: Mid-Match
"Alright, no more chatter. Let me introduce... the mascot of the Bulgarian National Team!"
A section of the stands erupted in cheers, where an orderly formation of bright red supporters waved their flags with fervor.
"A mascot? The last World Cup had Italy bringing in miniature fire-breathing fairy dragons. I wonder if this year's is equally impressive," Lilian remarked with interest, lifting her Omnioculars for a closer look.
The moment Bulgaria's mascot appeared, Malfoy gasped audibly, quickly lowering his Omnioculars. His face twisted in dismay. "Veela? Oh no. Let's hope they behave themselves this time."
A hundred Veela glided gracefully onto the pitch, their moonlit skin glowing ethereally and their hair flowing as if caught in an invisible breeze. Then, music began to play, and the Veela started dancing.
Observing the men around him succumbing helplessly to the Veela's allure, Augustus's lips curled into a faint smile. A curious creature, he thought, wondering if these Veela bore any resemblance to the infernal succubi of legend. Their charm magic, though potent, only affected those with weak mental defenses. A skilled practitioner of Occlumency would find such allure nothing more than a fleeting distraction.
When the music stopped, Malfoy sat stiffly, his eyes squeezed shut and hands clamped over his ears. It wasn't until Lilian tapped him repeatedly that he cautiously opened his eyes, scanning the box with exaggerated relief. "They're gone! Thank Merlin I was prepared. Imagine embarrassing myself like Potter or Weasley over there."
Indeed, Harry was slumped with one leg over the edge of the box, while Ron seemed frozen mid-leap, as if about to dive off a springboard. The stadium echoed with indignant shouts, as many in the audience protested the Veela's departure.
"Well," Augustus remarked idly, stroking his chin, "using Veela as mascots is akin to cheerleaders in the Muggle world. A clever move to boost morale and gain audience support."
"And now," Ludo Bagman's booming voice cut through the commotion, "wands to the sky... welcome the Irish National Team's mascot!"
With a sudden swoosh, a massive green-and-gold blur shot into the stadium, resembling a comet streaking through the sky. It circled the field before splitting into two smaller comets that darted toward opposite goalposts. A brilliant rainbow suddenly arched across the stadium, connecting the two comets, drawing gasps of awe from the audience. The rainbow dissolved as the two glowing orbs fused into a massive, radiant shamrock. Hovering above the stands, it began to sprinkle golden rain—showers of gold Galleons cascaded down into the crowd.
"Tch, Ireland's sparing no expense," Malfoy said critically. "Scattering so much gold over the stands? Even the World Cup prize money can't cover that. If they win, they'd still be at a loss."
Augustus chuckled softly. "If I'm not mistaken, those coins aren't real. They're merely transfigured objects and will revert to their original state in a few days."
"Typical of the Irish," Lilian interjected with a sneer. "Those leprechaun mascots are purely symbolic. Only an idiot like Draco would fall for the display."
Malfoy gave an awkward laugh, hastily changing the subject. Pointing skyward, he exclaimed, "Look, they're coming out!"
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, a warm welcome for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!" Bagman's voice thundered across the stadium. "Introducing... Dimitrov!"
A figure clad in crimson robes streaked into the stadium on a broomstick, too fast to be clearly seen, drawing deafening cheers from Bulgarian fans.
"Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Volkanov! Vulchanov! And now... Krum!"
"A genius Seeker, the youngest to ever play in professional Quidditch. Potter couldn't hold a candle to him. Krum will show that fool what a real Seeker is," Malfoy said, his gray-blue eyes gleaming with excitement.
Soon, the Irish players were introduced, and the stadium roared with enthusiasm. Afterward, the referee Mustafa was announced, signaling the imminent start of the game.
With a sharp blow of his whistle, the balls soared into the sky, and the match began.
"They're off!" Bagman yelled, his voice rising with the action. "It's Mullet—Troy—Moran—Dimitrov! Back to Mullet—Troy—Levski—Moran!"
Players darted across the sky, passing the Quaffle at lightning speed. Bagman could barely keep up, only managing to shout their names. Even Augustus, with his magically enhanced eyesight, had to use spell-driven slow-motion effects to fully appreciate their maneuvers.
"Troy scores!" Bagman bellowed. The stadium erupted as Ireland took a 10-0 lead.
"Troy—Mullet—Moran!" Within ten minutes, Ireland scored twice more, pushing the score to 30-0, sparking thunderous cheers from their supporters.
"Ireland's team synergy is clearly superior," Augustus analyzed calmly. "Unless Krum catches the Golden Snitch before the gap widens too much, Bulgaria's chances of victory are slim."
Lilian nodded in agreement. "Bulgaria's players aren't top-tier. Without Krum carrying the team, they wouldn't even qualify as contenders. Now, it's up to him to turn the tide and claim victory single-handedly."
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