The Quidditch World Cup
With everyone clutching their purchases, Ben led them all, hurrying as fast as they could past some tents and then into the wood, following the lantern lit trail.
The group all heard the sounds of thousands of people moving all around them, all shouting, laughing and even singing. The feverish excitement filled the atmosphere and was highly infectious, with Arthur grinning non stop.
The walk lasted for twenty minutes, everyone talking and joking loudly. Eventually, they reached the other side and were in the shadow of the biggest stadium Arthur had ever seen. He was barely able to see a fraction of the immense gold that surrounded the pitch, though he could guess that ten or more cathedrals would fit inside with ease.
"This stadium seats a hundred thousand people." Ben chuckled at Arthur's look of awe. "The Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-Repelling Charms cover every inch of it. Whenever Muggles get anywhere near it, they'd suddenly remember urgent appointments and dash off."
Ben then led everyone towards the nearest entrance, which was surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.
"Prime seats!" The Ministry witch at the entrance said upon checking their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Ben, and as high as you can go."
The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in a rich purple colour. Everyone clambered upwards with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through various doors into the stands to their left and right.
Ben's group just climbed until at long last, they reached the top of the staircase, finding themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts.
There were over twenty purple and gilt chairs that stood in two rows, and Arthur filed into the front seats with the Merlons, looking down at a scene Arthur could never have imagined.
There were indeed a hundred thousand witches and wizards that took their places in the seats that rose in levels all around the oval pitch. Everything had this golden filter over it that came from the stadium itself. The pitch itself looked as smooth as velvet from where they were situated. And at either end of the pitch were three goal hoops, all around fifty feet high.
Directly opposite from the Top Box, nearly at eye level with Arthur, was a large blackboard. It had gold writing that kept dashing across it like an invisible giant hand scrawled upon it and wiped it all off again. Arthur watched and saw that the words were advertisements.
The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable and with In-built Anti-Burglar Buzzer….
Mrs Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!
Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade….
Arthur decided to take his eyes away from the sign and then looked over his shoulder to see who else was currently in the box with them. So far, it seemed empty, excluding a small creature that sat in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. He noticed that the creature's legs were so short that they stuck out in front of it on the chair and wore a tea towel that was draped like a toga. Its face was hidden in its hands and it had familiar looking long and bat-like ears.
"Dobby?" He asked, confused.
The small creature looked up, parting its fingers to reveal enormous brown eyes and a nose that was the exact size and shape of a large tomato.
It was definitely not Dobby, but was without question a house elf, which Dobby, Arthur's friend was. Arthur had set Dobby free from his old owners who mistreated him to no end, the Malfoy family.
"Did sir just call me Dobby?" The elf squeaked curiously from between its fingers. Based on its higher voice in comparison to Dobby's, Arthur suspected that it had to be a female. Both David and Chrys turned in their seats to look. Despite hearing of Dobby, they've yet to meet him. Even Ben turned and looked with interest.
"I'm sorry." Arthur apologised. "I just thought you were someone else."
"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" The elf squeaked. She shielded her face as though she was being blinded by a light, yet the Top Box isn't brightly lit. Arthur suspected that she must be afraid of heights. "My name is Winky, sir, and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates upon seeing Arthur's scar. " - you is surely Arthur Pendergast!"
"Yes, I am."
"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" She then said, lowering her hands slightly and looked awestruck.
"So how is he? Is he doing alright with his freedom?"
"Ah, sir…" She said, shaking her head. "...ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."
"What are you talking about?" Arthur frowned. "He wanted nothing but freedom from his old masters."
"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir." Winky said sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."
"And why not?" Arthur questioned.
Winky would lower her voice by a half octave before whispering "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."
"And what's wrong with him wanting payment?" Arthur frowned. If Dobby wants payment, he should have payment, he didn't see a problem with that.
Winky, though, looked horrified at the idea, closing her fingers so slightly that her face was half hidden.
"House elves is not paid, sir!" She said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and the next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."
"Yeah, well, he hated his old masters and told me that he desired freedom, he should be allowed to have some fun, even if it isn't normal for you house elves." Arthur replied.
"House elves is not supposed to have fun, Arthur Pendergast." Winky said firmly through her hands. "House elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Arthur Pendergast -" She glanced towards the edge of the box and gulped, confirming Arthur's suspicions. " - but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."
"But why would he send you up here if he knows you don't like heights?" Arthur frowned at her master's disregard for her feelings.
"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Arthur Pendergast, he is very busy." Winky said, tilting her head towards the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Arthur Pendergast, but Winky does what she is told, Winky is a good house elf."
She gave the edge of the box another look of fright before hiding her eyes completely again.
Arthur now turned back to the others.
"So that's what a house elf looks like." David muttered. "Very weird."
"Dobby was weirder, but that's part of his charm." Arthur replied fondly.
The two, as well as Mike, decided to try out their Omnioculars, looking down at the crowd at the other side of the stadium.
"Sick!" David said as he tried out the replay knob.
"These are way better than any regular binoculars!" Arthur said as he noticed a couple of wizards who held hands before they kissed, which made something spark within Arthur.
Chrys at the moment was going over her velvet covered, tasselled programme.
"It seems that there will be a display from the team mascots before the match starts." She informed the boys.
"That is always worth the watch." Ben said. "The national teams bring creatures from their native land, to put on a show before they face off."
The box now started filling up gradually for the next half hour. Ben kept shaking hands with people who were clearly important wizards. Sam would jump to his feet so often that he seemed like he was trying to sit on a hedgehog.
Eventually, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, arrived, and Sam had bowed the lowest he could before he sat down.
Fudge greeted Arthur like he was an old friend as they've met before, shaking Arthur's hand in a fatherly fashion, asking how he was before introducing him to the wizards on either side of him.
"Arthur Pendergast, you know." Fudge said loudly to the Bulgarian Minister, who wore splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold, and apparently didn't understand a word of English. "Arthur Pendergast… oh, come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You Know Who… you do know who he is -"
The Bulgarian Minister then spotted Arthur's scar and gabbled very loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
"Knew we'd get there in the end." Fudge said wearily to Arthur. "I'm no great shakes at languages. I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house elf's saving him a seat… good job, too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places… ah, and here's Lucius!"
Arthur, David and Chrys all turned so quickly that their heads were a blur. Edging along the second row to three empty seats behind Ben were Dobby's old owners, Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco as well as who had to be his mother.
Arthur and Draco have been enemies ever since their first journey to Hogwarts. He was a pale boy with a pointed face and white blonde hair, making him greatly resemble his father, whose hair was long. His mother was also blonde, along with being tall and slim. She would've looked nice if it weren't for the fact that she looked like a nasty smell came from right under her nose.
"Ah, Fudge." Lucius said, holding out his hand upon reaching the Minister for Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"
"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge smiled and bowed to Narcissa. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk - Oblansk - Mr - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Benjamin Merlon, I daresay?"
To say the moment was tense would be an understatement when Ben and Lucius looked at each other. Arthur still remembered when they last came face to face; it was at Flourish and Blotts and they physically fought each other.
Lucius' cold grey eyes then swept Ben and then up and down the row, looking contemptuous.
"Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Ben. He's here as my guest."
"How… nice." Ben said with a strained smile, hiding his disgust at Lucius at what was clearly an act to hide his real intentions and that he's trying to corrupt the Minister for sure.
Lucius' eyes returned to Chrys, who glared at him with anger. His thin lips then curled, which Arthur knew why. The Malfoy family had prided themselves for being pure-bloods, meaning that they considered anyone with Muggle descent, like Chrys, as second class. But of course, under the gaze of the Minister for Magic, Lucius didn't dare do or say anything, instead, he nodded sneeringly at Ben before continuing down the line to his seats.
Draco, naturally, shot the trio with a contemptuous look before sitting between his parents.
"If they had no money and influence, everyone would see that they're nothing by slimy gits." David muttered as he, Arthur and Chrys turned to face the pitch again.
Then Ludo Bagman appeared, charging into the box.
"Everyone ready?" He said, his round face gleaming excitedly. "Minister, ready to go?"
"Ready when you are, Ludo." Fudge said comfortably.
Bagman the whipped out his wand, directing it to his throat before saying "Sonorus!", speaking over the roar of sound that filled the packed stadium; his voice echoing over them, booming into every inch of the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty second Quidditch World Cup!"
Every spectator screamed and clapped as thousands of flags waved, adding their various national anthems to the racket.
The large blackboard was then wiped clean of its last message, an advert for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and then showed: BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"
The right side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, all roared their approval.
"I'm wondering what they've brought." Ben said as he leaned forward in his seat.
"Aaah." He then said, suddenly leaning back into his seat. "It's Veela."
"And what are they?" Arthur asked right before a hundred Veela all glided out onto the pitch, answering his question.
They were women, yet Arthur suspected that they weren't human because of how beautiful they were. They're skin shined moon brightly and their white-gold hair fanned out behind them without any wind. Then the music started.
The Veela all started to dance, progressively faster and faster.
"David!" Chrys said, making Arthur look and saw that David looked like he was about to jump out of the Top Box with a dazed expression on his face. He looked and saw that others were like this, excluding Mike.
The music then stopped and angry yells filled the stadium, the crowd not wanting the Veela to go. Arthur didn't really side with them because he didn't seem affected by the charm of the Veela.
"Ireland's mascots are about to come." Ben said to David, who was snapping out of his dazed state.
"And it'll be clear what they'll be." David said as he stared at the Veela, who all lined up along one side of the pitch. Chrys tutted, slapping the back of his head, to snap him out of his trance.
"And now…" Bagman now roared. "...kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"
Suddenly, a great green and comet zoomed into the stadium, doing one circuit of the stadium before splitting into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow then arched across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light, leaving the crowd 'oooohing' and 'aaaaahing', like at a firework display.
Then the rainbow faded and the balls of light connected and merged, forming a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and soared over the stands. Then what looked like golden rain fell from it.
"Whoa!" David said in awe as the shamrock soared over them with heavy gold coins raining down from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Arthur squinted past the coins up at the shamrock and saw that there were thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats composing it, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.
"Leprechauns!" Ben said over the applause of the crowd, most of whom fought and rummaged under their chairs to retrieve the gold.
"Look at all of them, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone turned on each other and killed to get some gold." David chuckled.
The great shamrock then dissolved and the leprechauns all drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela, settling themselves cross legged to watch the match.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome… the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you, Dimitrov!"
A scarlet clad figure on a broomstick, moving in a blur, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below to thunderous applause from the Bulgarian supporters.
"Ivanova!"
A second scarlet figure shot out.
"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand… Krum!"
"THERE HE IS!" David yelled as he, Arthur, Chrys and Mike all got their Omnioculars out and followed Krum with them.
He looked exactly as the image in that book Arthur read. Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow skinned with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He seemed like an overgrown bird of prey. Arthur still couldn't believe that he was only eighteen.
"And no, please greet… the Irish National Quidditch Team!" Bagman yelled out. "Presenting… Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand… Lynch!"
Seven green blurs all shot out onto the pitch and Arthur spun a dial on his Omnioculars, slowing down to see that all of them had Firebolts, which was clear because the name was on their brooms and their own names were embroidered in silver on their backs.
"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chair-wizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"
A small and skinny bald wizard with a moustache and wearing pure gold robes strode out onto the pitch. There was a silver whistle that protruded from under his moustache and he carried a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.
Arthur had spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching very closely with excitement as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open, resulting in four balls to shoot into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, two black Bludgers and (Arthur saw it for a brief moment before it sped out of sight) the smallest of the balls, the winged Golden Snitch.
Then with a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.
"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" Bagman screamed. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"
This was easily Quidditch at a whole other level. Arthur pressed his Omnioculars so hard to his eyes that they were digging into his face. The speed of these players was truly bonkers. The Chasers threw the Quaffle to each other so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.
Arthur saw the three Ireland Chasers performing the Hawkshead Attacking Formation (which he remembered from reading Quidditch Through the Ages) with Troy in the centre, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians.
Then they performed the Porksoff Ploy as Troy darted upwards with the Quaffle, drawing away Ivanova before he dropped the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a Bludger that passed by with his small club, knocking it towards Moran, who ducked to avoid it, dropping the Quaffle, which Levski caught, but then in a blur, Troy caught it and then….
"TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared, making the stadium shudder with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten - zero to Ireland!"
Arthur and his friends danced up and down as Troy did a lap of honour on the pitch. Arthur noticed the leprechauns watching from the side lines and have risen into the air again, forming the great, glittering shamrock. Then across from them were the Veela, who were all watching sulkily.
The Ireland Chasers were truly superb, working as a whole, as though they could read each other's minds from how they positioned themselves, with the rosette on Arthur's chest squeaking their names.
Within ten minutes, Ireland scored two more times, making the score now thirty - zero, causing a real thunderous roar and applause from the green clad supporters.
The match still continued on fast, though more brutal as Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, started whacking as fiercely as they could at the Ireland Chasers, now starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves. There were two times where they had no choice but to scatter and at last, Ivanova broke through their ranks, dodged Ireland's Keeper, Ryan and scored Bulgaria's first goal.
"Put your fingers in your ears!" Ben bellowed out as the Veela started dancing to celebrate. David did just that and within a few seconds, the Veela all stopped and Bulgaria was once more in possession of the Quaffle.
"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh, I say!" Bagman roared out.
One hundred thousand wizards and witches all gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, both plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that they seemed as though they jumped from aeroplanes without any parachutes.
Arthur watched through his Omnioculars and realised that the Snitch was nowhere in sight yet, meaning… a Wronski Feint.
Chrys screamed as at the very last second, Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Whereas Lynch hit the ground with a dull thud that was audible, even up to the Top Box. This caused a great moan to ring out from the Irish seats.
"He just pulled the Wronski Feint. Lynch was fooled!" Arthur yelled.
"It's time out!" Bagman yelled out. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!"
"He only got ploughed, he'll be fine!" Kenny said in reassurance to Mary, who hung over the side of the box, looking worried. "Krum did that on purpose!"
Arthur remembered reading about the Wronski Feint, and how it's a dangerous diversion that Seekers perform. Arthur had never seen anyone fly like Krum did, he seemed as though he hardly used the broomstick, moving with such ease that he looked weightless and unsupported.
Arthur focused back on Krum, who circled high above Lynch, who was currently being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. He focused, in particular, his face, seeing his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was being revived to look for the Snitch without any interference.
Lynch finally got to his feet, to loud cheers from the green clad supporters, and mounted his Firebolt, kicking off into the air.
His revival gave Ireland some spirit because when Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers all moved into action with a skill unrivalled by anything that Arthur had seen.
Fifteen fast and furious minutes later, Ireland was now ahead by ten more goals, now leading by one hundred and thirty to ten, and the game was getting dirtier.
As Mullet shot at the goalposts again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, Zograf, Bulgaria's Keeper, flew out to meet her.
Whatever happened, happened so quickly that Arthur didn't catch it, though there was a scream of pure rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's whistle blasted, saying that it was a foul.
"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman shouted to the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"
The leprechauns, who rose angrily in the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet was fouled, now darted together, forming the words 'HA! HA! HA!'. The Veela on the other side of the pitch all leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily and started dancing again.
All together, the Merlons stuffed their fingers into their ears, though Mike and Arthur didn't, as they seemed to be unaffected by the Veela's vocals.
Arthur then noticed how Mostafa, down on the pitch, had landed in front of the dancing Veela, acting out of character as he flexed his muscles and smoothed his moustache excitedly. He found it hilarious.
"Now, we can't have that!" Bagman said, though he sounded amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"
A mediwizard tore across the pitch, his fingers stuffed in his ears, and kicked very hard on Mostafa's shins. Mostafa finally came to himself. Arthur, looking through his Omnioculars, noticed that he seemed embarrassed, shouting at the Veela, who stopped dancing and looked mutinous.
"And unless, I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots!" Bagman said. "Now there's something we haven't seen before… oh, this could turn nasty…."
And it did.
The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa, starting to argue furiously with him, gesticulating towards the leprechauns, who now formed the words 'HEE HEE HEE!'. Mostafa wasn't impressed with their arguments, though. He jabbed his finger into the air, clearly saying to get flying again. It was when they refused that he gave two blasts on his whistle.
"Two penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted, making the Bulgarian crowd howl in anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle…."
The match had reached a level of ferocity that was beyond what Arthur had seen to date. The Beaters on both teams now acted without mercy. Both Volkov and Vulchanov didn't even care whether their clubs made contact with the Bludgers or humans, as they just swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.
"Foul!" The Irish supporters all roared as one, standing up in a wave of green.
"Foul!" Bagman echoed with his magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran, deliberately flying to collide there, and it's got to be another penalty, yes, there's the whistle!"
All the leprechauns rose into the air again, this time, forming a large hand, which made a very rude sign across the pitch towards the Veela. With that, the Veela lost control. They launched themselves across the pitch, throwing what looked like handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.
Arthur looked through his Omnioculars and saw that the Veela were no longer beautiful. In fact, their faces elongated into sharp and cruel beaked bird heads and from their shoulders sprouted long, scaly wings.
"And that, boys…" Ben said to his sons over the crowd. "...is why you should never judge on looks alone!"
Ministry wizards all flooded the field and tried separating the Veela and leprechauns to little success. Meanwhile, this was all nothing to what happened above them. Arthur looked through his Omnioculars and saw the Quaffle changing hands with the speed of a bullet.
"Levski, Dimitrov, Moran, Troy, Mullet, Ivanova, Moran agan, Moran…. MORAN SCORES!"
The cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the Veel, the blast now coming from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars from the Bulgarians. The game had recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov -
One of the Irish Beaters, Quigley, swung heavily at a passing Bludger, hitting it as hard as they could towards Krum, and it hit his face as he didn't duck quickly enough.
This caused a deafening groan from the entire crowd; Krum's nose was broken as blood was everywhere, yet Mostafa didn't blow his whistle because he was distracted. Arthur couldn't blame him. One of the Veela had thrown a handful of fire, setting his broom tail alight.
Arthur wanted someone to realise that Krum, his favourite wizard celebrity and Quidditch player, was injured. He may be supporting Ireland, but Krum was the most exciting thing about the match. David and Mike felt the same.
"Bloody hell, TIME OUT!"
"THERE'S NO WAY HE CAN PLAY LIKE THAT!"
"GUYS, LYNCH!" Arthur yelled.
The Irish Seeker had gone into a dive and Arthur knew that it was the real deal.
"He's seen the Snitch! Look at him!" He yelled.
Half the crowd was realising what was happening as the Irish supporters rose in a wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was now on his tail. How he's able to see through the blood and pain is truly impressive in Arthur's opinion. Krum eventually drew level with Lynch and they both hurtled to the ground once more.
"They'll crash!" Chrys screamed.
"Lynch will!" Arthur told her.
He was right…. For the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was stampeded by a horde of angry Veela.
The scoreboard was now flashing: BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, who didn't realise what had happened.
Then slowly, as though a jumbo jet revved up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder into screams of utter joy and delight.
"IRELAND WIN!" Bagman shouted, who was very taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WIN! Good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"
Arthur did, and he felt proud of it. He looked over at Kenny and the two gave thumbs up.
"He must've caught the Snitch to end the match on his terms…. The Irish Chasers were just too good." David said as he applauded with everyone else.
"He truly was brave." Chrys said, leaning forward to watch Krum, who landed and a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and Veela to get to him. "He looks like a terrible mess."
Arthur looked through the Omnioculars and because the leprechauns zoomed around the pitch in delight, it was hard to see what was happening down below. But he was able to make out Krum among the mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever, refusing to let them mop him up.
His teammates were around him, shaking their heads, looking dejected at their loss. Some distance away, the Irish team all danced gleefully in a shower of gold from their mascots. Flags started waving all over the stadium as the Irish national anthem blared from all sides.
The Veela all shrunk back into their beautiful selves, looking dispirited and forlorn.
"Vell, ve fought bravely." A gloomy voice said behind Arthur. He turned and saw it was from the Bulgarian Minister for Magic.
"You can speak English!" Fudge said in outrage. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"
"Vell, it vos very funny." The Bulgarian Minister shrugged, making Arthur contain a snort.
"And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman roared.
Arthur's eyes were now dazzled by a blinding light, due to the Top Box magically being illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside.
Arthur squinted towards the entrance and saw two panting wizards carrying into the box a vast golden cup, which was handed to Fudge, who looked disgruntled that he used sign language all day for nothing.
"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers, Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.
Up the stairs into the box came all seven of the defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd all applauded appreciatively. Arthur saw thousands upon thousands of Omnicular lenses flashed and winked in their direction.
One by one, the Bulgarians all filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the names of each of them as they shook hands with their Minister and then Fudge. Krum was the last in the line and he truly looked like a real mess. He had two black eyes that bloomed on his bloody face. He even still held the Snitch and Arthur finally noticed just how less coordinated he was on the ground. He was slightly duck footed and very round shouldered.
When Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, ear splitting roar.
Then the Irish team came in. Aidan Lynch was being supported by both Moran and Connolly as it seemed that the second crash had dazed him, his eyes looked very unfocused after all.
Despite that, he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd all thundered their approval. Arthur's own hands were stinging and numb from all the clapping.
Finally, when the Irish team left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aiden Lynch being on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist, still grinning), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered "Quietus".
"They'll be talking about this one for years…" He said hoarsely. "...a really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer… ah yes… yes, I owe you… how much?"
Jack and Kevin had scrambled over the backs of their seats and stood in front of Bagman with broad grins on their faces and hands outstretched.
Seriously... talk about exciting.
