Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 463: This Ticket Was Worth Every Knut

After introducing the players, Ludo Bagman turned to announce the match referee: the President of the International Association of Quidditch—a short, wiry wizard. Amidst loud cheers, he strode onto the pitch, a large wooden case clutched under his arm. As he took his position, the crowd fell silent, holding their breath.

The referee mounted his Broomstick, nudged the case open with his foot, and with the blow of his whistle, the match began.

“They’re off!” Bagman’s voice boomed. “Mullet with the Quaffle! Passing to Troy! Back to Mullet! Then to Moran!”

In the Top Box, Harry forgot his earlier embarrassment, pressing his Omnioculars tightly against his glasses to keep up with the players’ lightning speed. Kyle, too, was riveted to the game. The professional players moved incredibly fast, with the Chasers passing the Quaffle between each other as if it were about to explode.

The three Irish Chasers charged down the pitch in a synchronized formation, the Quaffle flashing between them in quick succession, leaving even Bagman at a loss. Eventually, he gave up trying to announce each name individually, shouting, “Ireland is in their Hawkshead Attacking Formation—it’s their specialty! Bulgaria doesn’t know who to mark…oh! The Porskoff Ploy—Moran has drawn off Bulgarian Beater Ivanova—passes to Troy—”

“GOAL FOR TROY!” Bagman’s shout echoed across the stadium, which shook with the roar of cheers and applause.

“10:0, Ireland takes the lead!”

“That was amazing! This is nothing like the school matches,” Hermione said, waving her Irish flag excitedly. “But…are the Bludgers moving faster than usual?”

She frowned, her mind racing. In school games, she could easily follow the Bludgers, but now, they were only two blurs zipping across the pitch.

“These are tournament-standard Bludgers,” Cedric explained. “With all the players on Firebolts, the old Bludgers wouldn’t keep up. So, the International Association of Quidditch adjusted both the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch a few months ago, increasing their speed.”

“I see,” Hermione nodded, refocusing on the game.

As the pre-match predictions had suggested, Ireland’s exceptional Chasers quickly took control of the match, scoring twice more in the first ten minutes to make it 30:0. Mr. Weasley couldn’t contain his cheers, while Harry, Ron, and Charlie, rooting for Bulgaria, managed polite but strained smiles.

Luckily for the Bulgarian supporters, their team found an opening a few minutes later. Two Bulgarian Beaters forced the Irish Chasers to spread out, disrupting their formations. Taking advantage, Ivanova broke through, dodging the Irish Keeper to score Bulgaria’s first goal.

“Quick, cover your ears—the Veelas are going to start dancing again,” warned Mr. Weasley.

Without needing to be told twice, Harry immediately lowered his head and shut his eyes, determined not to make a spectacle of himself again.

But the celebration didn’t last long for the Bulgarians. Ireland dominated the game, scoring five goals in quick succession, widening the lead to a lopsided margin. Bulgaria seemed stunned by the relentless Irish offense.

Meanwhile, Viktor Krum performed a daring Wronski Feint, faking a dive for the Snitch.

Ireland’s Seeker, Lynch, took the bait, following Krum’s plummet only to realize too late that the Snitch was nowhere near. Lynch hit the ground with a heavy thud that echoed across the stadium, followed by gasps and groans from the Irish supporters.

A Healer rushed onto the field to assess Lynch’s injuries, while Krum hovered a hundred feet above, scanning the stadium with sharp, focused eyes. He was using the delay to his advantage, searching intently for the Golden Snitch without competition, hoping for a quick end to the match.

”That was brilliant…” Fred said, barely able to contain his excitement over the impressive feints and classic Quidditch maneuvers. ”I hope this match goes on for a long time.”

”It’d be amazing if it lasted five whole days, like last time,” George added eagerly.

”Oh... I donʼt think so,” Percy raised his voice, sounding as if he wanted everyone in the box to hear him. ”If I’m away from work for five days, my in-tray will be piled high with paperwork again. Just thinking about it makes me shiver.”

”Yeah, and someone might send you dragon dung in an envelope again,” Fred said with a smirk.

”That was a fertilizer sample from Norway!” Percy protested, his face turning red. ”Not for personal use!”

”Sure it was…” Fred whispered to Kyle with a grin, ”We sent it to him ourselves.”

His voice was so low that, with the noise from the crowd, only Kyle could hear him.

Finally, Lynch climbed back onto his Firebolt and, to the cheers of Irish supporters, took off into the air once more. The Irish Chasers regrouped almost instantly, working together so seamlessly that the Bulgarian defense looked as exposed as the grounds in front of Hogwarts.

Twenty minutes later, Ireland had scored five more goals, increasing their lead to 130-10. The Bulgarian team, desperate and scoreless, was beginning to lose their composure. The game was taking on a more aggressive tone.

Zograf, the Bulgarian Keeper, couldn’t resist throwing an elbow at Mullet as she got close to the goalposts, but the referee quickly called it out, awarding Ireland a penalty.

After that, the Bulgarian Beaters turned into ruthless bludgeoning machines, swinging at anything in their way, be it Bludger or player. At one point, Moran was nearly knocked off her broom by their wild swings, and Bulgaria earned yet another foul.

The Leprechauns, hovering in the air to celebrate, took the opportunity to make rude gestures at the Veelas, taunting them. Enraged, the Veelas could no longer hold back. Instead of dancing, they soared up and hurled handfuls of fiery objects at the Leprechauns. Their enchanting faces twisted into bird-like heads with sharp, pointed beaks, and scaly wings sprouted from their shoulders. They no longer looked beautiful—now they were ferocious and frightening.

”You see, children, that’s what Veelas really look like,” Mr. Weasley’s voice rang out above the din, chuckling. ”That’s why you should never judge a book by its cover!”

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, still wide-eyed.

Meanwhile, Kyleʼs eyes lit up with interest, and he instinctively reached for the Mokeskin pouch containing his enchanted suitcase.

As the conflict between the mascots escalated, Ministry officials hurried into the field, trying to separate the Veelas and Leprechauns with minimal success. The skirmish below was now almost as fierce as the match above. Although the Leprechauns couldn’t throw fireballs, they retaliated by flinging handfuls of gold coins, which—when hurled with enough force—could still leave a mark on the Veelas.

The stadium was alive with Veela screeches, the popping sounds of spells from Ministry wands, and the cheers of supporters from both teams. The audience was thrilled; no one had told them theyʼd get a second show for the price of one, and they savored every second of the chaos.

Kyle was constantly shifting his gaze, trying to keep up with the Quidditch match above and the fierce squabble between the Veelas and Leprechauns below. He found himself wishing he’d bought a pair of Omnioculars before the match.