As Ludo Bagman’s voice echoed to every corner of the stadium, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, with thousands of flags waving in unison, creating a vibrant, electrifying atmosphere. Kyle barely paid attention to Bagman’s well-worn opening speech, his eyes drifting back toward Winky, the House-elf.
The Top Box was now fully occupied, except for the seat beside her, which was still empty… He had checked it earlier, and it had been just an empty seat. Could Winky have saved it for Barty Crouch? But if that were true, where was he now, with the match about to start? It didn’t seem like Barty Crouch to hold a reserved seat and not show up. Could he really be capable of such an oversight?
“Oh!” A thunderous cheer ca from the right side of the stadium, drawing everyone’s attention. Kyle turned his gaze back to the field.
“Please allow to introduce…the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!” Ludo’s voice bood.
Mr. Weasley craned his neck in curiosity. “I wonder what they’ve brought…Ah…Veelas!”
“What are Ve…” Harry began, but his question trailed off as a hundred Veelas glided onto the field. The mont he saw them, he fell silent. They were breathtaking, their skin glowing softly like moonlight, with their long hair flowing behind them as if lifted by an unseen breeze. Harry’s gaze went hazy.
He had wanted to keep his composure, hoping to appear mature in front of Cho, but that resolve vanished. As the music began and the Veelas started to dance, his mind went completely blank. Their movents grew faster and more entrancing, and, without realizing it, Harry stood up, threw one leg over the partition wall, as if preparing to leap.
Hermione, unable to stand it any longer, shouted, “Harry, what are you doing!” Just then, the music stopped.
Harry snapped back to his senses, suddenly aware of his leg draped over the wall. Realizing what he’d almost done, he heard the girls behind him laughing. Their laughter felt like a dozen Bludgers, striking him repeatedly. Sha flooded over him, and his face turned crimson, so much so he felt like leaping off for real just to escape the embarrassnt.
Hermione made a loud, exasperated tsking sound, though she didn’t mock him—there was no need. All around, others had been equally captivated.
Beside Harry, Ron stood on his seat with his arms outstretched as though he were about to dive. Fred and George clung to each other, appearing as if they were in the middle of a dance. Even Cedric seed affected, flexing his muscles as though putting on a show, his face pale as a ghost. Cho, watching Cedric’s antics, looked away, scoffing softly.
Kyle was wide-eyed, srized by the Veelas. Hermione let out another tsk, feeling a pang of disappointnt. She had thought Kyle might be different, unaffected like Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie had been. Only Kanna seed to notice sothing unusual, casting Kyle a suspicious glance. She rembered seeing this sa expression on his face when he’d first encountered the Dragon Norbert, and again when they’d visited the Forbidden Forest to observe the Mooncalves.
As the music died down and the Veelas left the field, the stadium echoed with angry shouts from the crowd, begging for more. Mr. Weasley helped Harry back into his seat, where he tried to curl up, hoping to disappear. Malfoy’s mocking laughter rang out behind him, but Harry barely registered it. All he noticed was the look of disappointnt on Cho’s face. Was she disappointed in him?
He wasn’t sure, but if he could, he wished he were sowhere else in the stands—anywhere but here, where he felt so exposed.
anwhile, Ron, Fred, and George were still swept up in the excitent, hooting along with the crowd, desperately calling for the Veelas to return.
“There’s a match coming up,” Mr. Weasley reminded them, patting Ron on the shoulder. “And believe , it’s much better than the Veelas.”
“Hm?” Ron muttered, barely paying attention, his eyes still fixed on the Veelas as they lined up on one side of the pitch.
“And now!” Ludo Bagman’s voice bood like a great bell. “Please raise your wands into the air... and welco the mascot of the Irish national team!”
With a sudden whoosh, sothing that looked like a blazing Cot shot into the stadium. It circled the pitch, then dispersed into a glowing, enormous shamrock that soared high above. The crowd erupted in a collective “wow” of awe.
Monts later, a golden rain began to fall from above.
“Fantastic!” Ron exclaid, imdiately forgetting about the Veelas as he whipped off his hat to catch the falling coins.
Kyle looked up at the giant ‘clover,’ made up of countless tiny figures, each one dressed in a red vest with a mustache and holding a green or gold lantern. They were Irish Leprechauns, about the size of Cornish Pixies but much cleverer and unique to Ireland.
Kyle couldn’t help but grin. If it had been any other mascot, it would have been hard to compete with the Veelas’ allure. But now, people were no longer chanting for the Veelas to return; instead, they were cheering, diving under seats, and scrambling to catch the golden coins.
“Are these real?” Kanna asked, examining a coin she’d caught.
“Of course not; the Irish aren’t that generous,” Kyle chuckled. “It’s Leprechaun gold—it’ll disappear in a few hours.”
“So it’s worthless?” Kanna asked, a bit disappointed.
“Pretty much, but it’s an incredible effect. Where else do you see a golden rain like this?” Kyle said, waving his wand to gather up the coins around him, thinking he’d let his Niffler play with them later.
A few minutes later, the giant shamrock dissolved, and the Leprechauns floated down to the field, settling opposite the Veelas and sitting cross-legged to watch the match.
“And now, ladies and gentlen... please give a warm welco to the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!” Ludo’s voice echoed. “I present to you… Dimitrov!”
A figure in red shot through the entrance and sped into the stadium, flying so fast that Harry had to slow his Omnioculars three tis to catch a proper look.
“Ivanova…”
A second red-clad figure joined him, then a third. Bagman announced each player’s na, and the applause from the stands was continuous, surging louder with each new player.
“And now, last but not least… Krum!”
The stadium seed to explode with sound. Deafening cheers and shouts filled the air, ringing in everyone’s ears, and even Irish supporters joined in.
Kyle looked over, studying Viktor Krum. The Seeker was dark-haired and thin, with a large hooked nose and thick, bushy eyebrows that made him resemble a fierce eagle. His expression was perpetually grim, making him look closer to thirty than a student yet to graduate.
Then, the Irish national Quidditch team took to the field, welcod by another round of enthusiastic applause. Though their star Chaser, Moran, couldn’t quite match the thunderous cheers for Krum, he still received plenty of support.
The two teams flew on their broomsticks, each side eyeing the other with intense focus, ready for the match to begin.
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