As Ludo's voice echoed throughout the stadium, a burst of cheers and applause erupted from the spectators.
Thousands of flags waved in unison, accompanied by a chaotic medley of national anthems; the atmosphere was lively beyond belief.
Holding a tasseled, velvet-covered official program in her hands, Hermione gazed at the pitch before her, full of anticipation.
"The book says that before the match begins, there will be a performance by the team mascots."
Konan covered her mouth and chuckled softly, shifting her gaze past Kyle to look at Hermione. "Do you know what the mascot of the Bulgarian National Team is?"
Hermione shot her a puzzled look.
"I'll tell you a secret," Konan's words were directed at Hermione, but she stared at Kyle with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "their team mascot is the Veela."
Hearing Konan's words, Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. She then began staring at Kyle with an expression almost identical to Konan's, as if trying to catch any unusual reaction on his face.
"What's a Veela?" Harry's inquisitive voice drifted over from behind.
Sensing a death glare fixed on him from both his left and right, Kyle straightened his face.
"That's merely an ordinary magical creature. I even sent one to old man Newt before."
Pausing for a moment, Kyle added another sentence, "As a Christmas present."
Avoiding the eyes of both Hermione and Konan, his gaze drifted toward Harry in the back row. "If you want one, I can send you one, or even ten or twenty of them."
"No, no," Harry hastily declined. "Thanks for the offer."
Harry was well aware of the little Demon King's nature and knew that he definitely harbored no good intentions by saying that—he wasn't about to take the bait.
Since Kyle hadn't bothered to lower his voice at all while speaking, even though the stadium was extremely noisy, Ron and Mr. Weasley nearby heard every word clearly.
Recalling the beauty of the Veela, Ron quietly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
He desperately wanted to tell Harry: If you don't want them, you can always pass them on to me.
If he could possess twenty Veela...
Well, he probably wouldn't make it to see the sun rise the next day before being reduced to a shriveled husk, drained of every last drop of bodily fluid.
Mr. Weasley also surreptitiously swallowed a mouthful of saliva. Although his movement was very subtle, it was still caught by the sharp-eyed Mrs. Weasley.
A dark hand immediately reached for the soft flesh at his waist, causing Mr. Weasley's face to freeze.
He turned his head stiffly, looking at Mrs. Weasley with eyes that held three parts confusion, three parts doubt, and four parts pitiful innocence.
"Molly?"
Feeling that dark hand at his waist slowly retract, Mr. Weasley finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Alright, enough chitchat!" Ludo's voice echoed across the stadium. "Allow me to introduce the mascots of the Bulgarian National Team!"
To the right side of the stands was a neat, bright red block of spectators, which instantly erupted into loud cheers.
As a hundred Veela glided onto the pitch, Harry's eyes snapped wide open.
You fucking told me these are magical creatures?!
Their skin glowed with a soft, moonlight radiance, and their waterfall-like hair billowed behind their heads...
Tearing off his glasses, old pervert Harry wiped them frantically on his clothes before putting them back on in a hurry.
Immediately after, he remembered that he also had a pair of Omnioculars.
Caring nothing about looking foolish, Harry snatched up his Omnioculars, completely exposing his perverted side.
However, no one noticed Harry's embarrassing behavior, as everyone around him had their full attention glued to that group of Veela.
The few who weren't entranced by the Veela didn't have the time to care about him anyway.
Kyle had his eyes covered by Hermione on one side and Konan on the other, while the two big bosses, Dumbledore and Grindelwald, had zero interest in Veela.
As for Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Diggory, they were busy locking their respective husbands in death glares.
As the music struck up, the Veela began to dance.
Harry's mind went completely blank in an instant, filled only with a sense of extreme euphoria.
Wild, unformed thoughts began spinning inside Harry's dazed mind.
He suddenly felt the urge to do something crazy to attract the attention of those Veela—jumping out of the box into the stadium seemed like a wonderful idea.
Before he could put the thoughts in his head into action, a quiet cough echoed inside the box.
Grindelwald's voice was very soft, but to Harry, it sounded like a resounding bell.
Instantly, all the crazy thoughts in Harry's head were banished. He blinked blankly, wondering what on earth he had been about to do just now.
Recalling the crazy thoughts that had just crossed his mind, Harry's face flushed bright red, but he recovered quickly.
After all, his thoughts had stayed strictly inside his head. Ron, on the other hand, was a different story—at that moment, Ron had already rushed to the very front of the box, hooking one leg over the front railing, preparing to leap down.
Out of more than twenty people in the box, Ron had the most extreme reaction.
Everyone else remained seated calmly without moving an inch.
In an instant, the Quidditch World Cup became Ron's personal social death scene.
Covering his face, Ron slunk back to his seat in shame, wishing he could cast an Expulso on the box floor to blast a hole in the ground and crawl inside.
If it weren't for the fact that he couldn't afford to pay for the floor, he really would have done it.
"Ron," George's ill-intentioned voice drifted over from the side, "you really need to get yourself a girlfriend."
Fred picked up where George left off, driving a knife deep into Ron's fragile little heart, "If you had a girlfriend, you wouldn't react so intensely just from watching the Veela dance."
Since the spectators throughout the entire stadium were still immersed in the Veela's dance, the venue was exceptionally quiet, aside from the music accompanying the Veela.
What George and Fred said could be heard by basically the entire box.
It was far too savage; all the bamboo shoots on the mountain had been snatched up by those two.
"Pfft..." Ginny instantly couldn't hold it in. Mindful of maintaining her ladylike image in front of Harry, she tried her absolute best to suppress her laughter, but in the end, she failed completely, "Hahahahaha..."
Ginny's laughter seemed contagious; even Percy, who was always strict and stern, broke character.
Soon came Kyle, Charlie, Bill... in the end, even Grindelwald and Dumbledore couldn't help chuckling quietly.
Ron's face turned beet red, the veins on his forehead bulging out one by one.
He desperately wanted to step up and refute the twins' words, but after holding it in for a long time, he couldn't think of a single thing to say back.
In the end, it was Mrs. Weasley, sitting directly behind the twins, who stood up and delivered a harsh flick to each of their foreheads, which counted as rescuing Ron...
Well, actually, it didn't really rescue him.
After all, Ron was still stuck in his deep embarrassment, unable to extricate himself.
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