Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

When Ludo Bagman announced the start of the game, the audience in the stadium burst into cheers and applause.

Thousands of colorful flags were waved at the same time, accompanied by the chaotic national anthem, the scene was really lively.

Meanwhile, on the blackboard across from them, the last line of the ad (Bibi Duo Flavor Beans - every bite is an adventure!) has been erased and now shows:

Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0.

"Okay, without further ado, let me introduce... the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stand was a neat bright red square, and loud cheers broke out at this moment.

"I don't know what they brought." Mr. Wesley leaned out of his seat.

The next moment, he took off his glasses and wiped hastily on his robe, "Ah! It's a Veela!"

"What is Mei-"

Before Harry and Ron's questions were over, a hundred veelas had already slid into the arena, and the two children's questions were instantly answered.

Veelas were women...the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen...but they weren't - couldn't be - real people.

Not only Harry, but Ron was confused for a moment, unable to guess what they were:

Why is their skin glowing with a soft light like the moon, and why is their hair fluttering behind their heads without the wind...

Just when Harry and the others were addicted to each other's beauty and couldn't extricate themselves, the music started, and Harry stopped thinking about whether she was real or not...

In fact, he couldn't think about anything, and when the veelas started dancing, Harry's mind was like a lake of slush, filled with wonder and joy.

At this moment, nothing in the world seems to matter anymore, whether it's his godfather, or Hogwarts, or even his mother who resurrected him, as long as he can keep looking at the veela, because if they stop dancing, Terrible things will happen...

Do not! wrong! I want to resurrect my mother!

But these veelas are so pretty...

Do not! I want to resurrect my mother! I can't forget this!

Over the arena, the veela danced faster and faster, and some crazy, shapeless thoughts began to swirl in Harry's dizzy mind.

At the same time, another thought that was deeply rooted in his mind was also growing wildly, like grass rooted in a rock that could not be cut off.

The two different ideas clashed and confronted in Harry's mind like this, giving him a splitting headache, and even those Veela didn't even want to look at them again.

Fortunately, Clark's familiar voice seemed to come from far away, helping him to suppress the distracting thoughts in his heart.

"Harry, are you okay?"

Harry blinked blankly, as if a basin of cold water had been poured from the head, and the music had stopped.

There he stood, one leg resting on the box wall.

And the other people in this box—mainly wizards, were all blushing and excited, and many of them were even dancing.

Like Ron, Fred, George, Draco…

Only Clark and Neville sat upright and looked as usual, which made Hermione very satisfied.

But like the two of them, after all, it was a minority. For example, the stadium was full of angry roars, and people didn't want Veela to leave.

Ron was in a trance tearing the clover off his hat, and it was just a show that made him change his mind and prepare to support Bulgaria.

Mr. Wesley smiled and leaned forward, snatching the hat from Ron.

"Wait until after the Irish show," said Mr Wesley, "and you'll need it."

"Huh?" Ron snorted, gaping at the veelas, who were already lined up on one side of the arena.

Harry vaguely felt that something was wrong, but before he could speak, Clark took the initiative to answer his doubts.

"It's a veela, a mythical elves, nature fairies, and of course, magical creatures to wizards.

And the magical ability they have is also very simple, it is a powerful charm, especially for young men, whether Muggles or wizards, it is easy to kneel under their pomegranate skirts. "

Clark looked at Ron again as he spoke, which made his ears flush, while Hermione slapped loudly and shook her head, "Man!"

"Now," Ludo Bagman's voice sounded like a bell again, "please hold your wand in the air...Welcome to the Irish national team mascot!"

Then, with just a swish, a huge, green and gold thing flew into the gym, like a big comet.

It flew around the pavilion before splitting into two smaller comets, each heading towards a set of goalposts.

An arched rainbow suddenly appeared across the arena, connecting the two gleaming balls.

The crowd erupted in exclamations of "Oops Oops," as if watching a gorgeous fireworks display, and even Clark clapped.

At this moment, the rainbow in the sky disappeared, and the gleaming **** connected and merged with each other, forming a huge, dazzling clover, which rose high into the air and began to hover above the stands.

Then, something crackled down from above, like golden raindrops—

"awesome!"

Ron shouted excitedly, and the clover circled over their heads, continuously dropping a large amount of gold coins on their heads and seats.

At this time, if you look closely at the clover, you will find that it is actually composed of countless little people wearing red vests and mustaches, each of which is carrying a golden or green small lamp.

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked closely at the clover, realizing that it was actually made of

"It's the Irish Leprechaun!"

Mr Wesley said amid the cheers, people were cheering and scrambling or getting under the seats to pick up gold coins.

"King Kong Is Not Bad Dazhai Master"

"Here," Ron shouted happily, shoving a handful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "and your panorama! Now you have to buy me Christmas presents, haha!"

Clark looked at it and couldn't help laughing, "Ron, you can't do this, this is the magic gold coin of the Irish leprechaun, it only takes a few hours for these things to disappear without a trace. trace."

"What!" Ron was suddenly disappointed, and then he realized that there were not many people like him picking up gold coins in the small box. Obviously, many people here knew this.

"It's all right," the kind Harry reassured him, "I'll still buy you presents for Christmas."

As they spoke, the huge clover in the sky dissipated, and the leprechauns slowly fell across from the veela, and sat down with their legs crossed, ready to watch the game.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, a warm welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Let me introduce you to - Dimitrov!"

The red figures riding on broomsticks flew into the arena from an entrance below, like the shadows of a lake, causing the Bulgarian supporters to cheer wildly in their seats.

Especially when Krum, the Seeker of the Bulgarian team, was introduced, those people stood up, held up his photo, and cheered heartily.

"It's him, it's him!" Ron shouted, following Krum with his panopticon.

In fact, it doesn't need to, because the photos held high by the fans gathered together to form a huge picture that took up half of the stadium.

Victor Klum in the picture is dark and thin, with grayish-yellow skin, a large hooked nose, and two thick black eyebrows. He looks like a huge eagle. It's hard to believe he's only eighteen years old.

Compared with the popularity of the Bulgarian team, the Irish national Quidditch team that played later is not inferior.

The green figures of Qimo Lake rode Firebolts and flew into the arena. Wherever they passed, a green ocean was rolling and screaming.

After the players from both sides had entered the field, a short, lean referee kicked open the wooden box, and the four **** jumped into the air, and the game officially started.

"Ah, he-he-he-they're off!" Screamed Bagman. "It's Marat! Troyin! Moran! Dimitrov! To Marat again! Troy Yin! Come on Versky! Moran!"

This is an extremely fierce Quidditch game with very high-end skills and tactics. Even Clark, who has always been not interested in Quidditch, has to admit that this game shows the powerful charm of sports .

Compared with them, the Quidditch games he watched at Hogwarts before were really children's stuff.

The speed of the Quidditch players throughout the game was unbelievable, not only in the speed of the players' flight, but also in the speed of their reflexes, and their ability to choose different tactics for different situations. Thinking speed.

Many times, Harry, sitting next to Clark, even had to turn the slow **** on the right side of the telescope and press the game analysis button at the top to really see the game.

The confrontation between the two teams is also very anxious. It can be seen that the players of the Irish team are more skilled and coordinated, as if they can see through each other's mind.

They often form groups of three or three, interspersed with each other in several small formations, using formations flexibly, using local to play more and less, to offset the more powerful single-player qualities of the Bulgarian players.

This is very much in line with the idea in team sports that cooperation is often more useful than individual heroism.

Therefore, the first goal of this game is the handwriting of the Irish team.

They relied on a series of precise and decisive passes, swayed the opponent's block, and finally threw the ball into the frame.

"Troyin scored!" Bagman roared loudly, and the audience cheered and applauded, making the stadium tremble, "10-0, Ireland leads!"

The leprechauns watching the game from the sideline happily rose into the air, forming the giant gleaming clover again, while the Veela across the field looked at them gloomily, looking particularly angry.

And this first goal was just the beginning. In the next time, the game became more intense and cruel.

The two Bulgarian batsmen were as expected from the cold northern Europe, and their arms were thicker than Harry's thighs.

When they used their milking strength to swing the solid wood bat in their hands, the Quaffles were like cannonballs, squeezing the air, and with a rumble of thunder, they flew aggressively towards the Irish Chaser.

Faced with such a dangerous attack, the Irish players were forced to disperse, which also gave Bulgaria the opportunity to score the first goal.

Of course, these are just trifles. For the Bulgarian team, their strong individual strength is mainly displayed on the Seeker.

"Oh my God!" Bagman said in a loud voice.

The Hundred Thousand Wizards held their breath as they watched the Seekers from the two teams -- Krum and Lynch -- fall quickly in front of everyone.

That was so fast, it was like they jumped out of a plane without a parachute.

"They're going to fall to the ground!" exclaimed Ginny next to Harry.

She was only half right - at the last second, Viktor Klum stopped his dive, re-raised, and circled away.

As for the Irish team's Seeker, Lynch was not so lucky. He didn't adjust the broom in time, so that he fell to the ground hard, and the bang could be heard all over the stadium, causing the Irish audience to sit in the seats. A lamentation was uploaded. UU reading www. uukanshu.com

"Fool!" Mr. Wesley complained. "Krum is doing a fake!"

"The game is suspended," Mr. Bagman roared. "The well-trained on-court doctor rushed to the field to check on Aidan Lynch's injury."

Fortunately, as Mr. Wesley said, Aidan Linqi's injury was not serious. After drinking some of the drinks handed to him by the on-court doctor, Lin Qi stood up again.

His recovery appears to have given the Irish team new confidence.

When the referee blew the whistle again, the Irish Chasers quickly organized the offensive, their superb skills, which opened Clark's eyes.

In this way, after another tense and intense fifteen minutes, the Irish team scored ten goals in a row. They are now up 130-10 and the game is starting to get unscrupulous.

Those Bulgarian team members relied on their stature and outstanding physical fitness, and frequently collided with the Irish team players.

Not only disrupted their attacking rhythm, but even tried to bruise the Irish players.

This unethical behavior of course provoked a roar from the Irish supporters, while the referee of the game frequently blew a harsh whistle.

But for Clark, he had long expected the game to develop to this point.

After all, it has nothing to do with the quality of the players, but the rules of the Quidditch game itself are flawed.

After all, a golden snitch has 150 points, and there is no time limit, no limit, and the game has to wait until the golden snitch is caught.

In this case, Bulgaria's choice to interfere with the opponent with a strong physique and pin all their hopes on the Seeker Viktor Krum has become a very wise but relatively rogue style of play. .