This lad had attended regional matches before, but Lulu had taken him the last two times, causing Lys to temporarily forget about this matter.
Senna's potion application had dragged on for nearly a year. The troubles encountered during this period left her with a knot of frustration in her chest—she'd genuinely set aside other matters to resolve this application swiftly.
She clutched the reasonably progressing potion application, momentarily speechless.
Friedm remained lost in his excitement. "Draco told me there'll be new tactical analysis telescopes, but I reckon we should use our own eyes. That's more authentic..."
"Lys...?"
"Er, terribly sorry, Friedm. I forgot about this, but wait!"
Seeing Friedm's shock as he dropped his broomstick model, Lys quickly attempted damage control:
"I'll ask around—see who's got tickets. If nobody has, I'll pay a sponsorship fee! Don't panic! I guarantee you'll watch that match!"
After securing the materials in her study, Lys rushed out again, her mind racing through possibilities of who might still obtain tickets mere days before the match!
Ultimately, Lys couldn't secure tickets. Second and third-class seats positioned too low, and with Friedm refusing telescopes, they'd see nothing. Lys wouldn't endure such pointless effort.
Moreover, she hesitated approaching Lucius for assistance. Children exchanging match tickets amongst themselves merely demonstrated friendship.
But if Little Fly's ticket required her begging Lucius for help, she sensed Little Fly's relationship with Draco would become unbalanced.
More significantly, Lys found it rather embarrassing.
Clutching her account details, Lys marched directly to the Department for Magical Sports organizing the match.
Every staff member insisted these tickets had sold out ages ago.
She refused to believe it. Just match tickets!
If she couldn't purchase through legitimate channels today!
Then she'd employ illegitimate ones...
"Oh, forget it! Bagman, you're running betting pools—d'you care whether my entry methods are legal?!"
The wizard before her, sporting a loose jersey, headed the Department for Magical Sports. He appeared absorbed in a Quidditch player magazine.
His round face flushed crimson, seemingly surprised yet somewhat exasperated by the witch who'd barged into his office.
Lys had dealt with him previously. This was a "good enough" sort whose abilities weren't particularly distinguished. Lys couldn't fathom how he'd achieved his departmental leadership position.
Furthermore, he'd passed messages for Death Eaters over a decade ago. Knowing some of his little secrets meant Lys hadn't been overly courteous in their communications.
"I certainly know those tickets were distributed long ago. I'm not requesting complimentary top-tier seats. Two ten-second advertisements, triple price—consider your potential profits?"
Lys's tone turned tempting. "And consider this—grant me seats, and I won't neglect your little hobby... Fancy placing a wager?"
Ludo Bagman was visibly tempted.
He'd always struggled with gambling addiction.
Though he'd restrained himself considerably in recent years due to professional and image requirements, he couldn't resist during major sporting events.
"Ah yes, my little hobby. You understand it's merely pleasant recreational activity."
"But... let me consider... I can only seat you beside my position. You must understand—I've genuinely no seats remaining. I've even arranged the Weasleys and Malfoys in the same section."
Lys's silence irritated Bagman slightly. "I guarantee that position offers the venue's finest view. You know I'm the commentator."
Lys sighed.
Very well! If the Weasleys and Malfoys were seated together, tickets were truly exhausted...
"Four tickets!"
"Right, four seats. Four?!"
Confronted with Lys's silence, Ludo Bagman sighed, then... "Quadruple price!"
"Deal!"
Lys had originally prepared for the outcome of paying without securing advertisements, but now, despite spending roughly thirty to forty percent more liquid funds.
Two ten-second advertisements plus two advertising positions exceeded Lys's expectations entirely.
Clutching four sponsor seat tickets, Lys encountered Friedm's fidgeting. "Lys, Lulu mentioned sponsorship's frightfully expensive. Perhaps I shouldn't attend."
You must understand—in this household, only he contributed nothing whilst constantly spending money...
"Spoken wishes should be fulfilled provided they're reasonable. Besides, this was my oversight. The situation's actually favorable—we've secured two ten-second advertisements, perfect for my materials shop and Mother's potion announcements. For those advertising positions, we must arrive tomorrow to arrange the magical displays."
Lys winked at the incredulous Friedm, urging:
"So come on, stop fidgeting, Little Fly. Get moving—pack your clothes, broomstick, and posters. Oh, and bring pocket money. Perhaps you can get Beater Volkov to autograph something. I need to locate the tent and prepare provisions."
Just before departure, Senna's two experimental potion cauldrons encountered complications, dampening her enthusiasm for attending.
Friedm had spent recent days recounting past Quidditch spectacles at home, hoping this match might also last a week...
Senna lacked interest initially. She considered watching crowds fight over two balls less fascinating than observing her cauldron bubble twice.
Senna hesitated somewhat. She didn't wish to dampen spirits, but...
If she returned then, her cauldron bottom might burn through completely.
Moreover, Little Madman's soul-stabilizing potion stock was running dangerously low. This potion proved too sensitive—only Senna could brew it, ensuring effectiveness and confidentiality.
Besides, in this household, Senna and Lys never flew broomsticks higher than one foot off the ground, so neither truly understood the excitement of aerial ball-chasing.
Yet observing the two gentlemen's restless excitement, Senna closed her mouth and prepared to change clothes.
Plans were meant for modification, weren't they?
Before she could finish donning the peculiar garments Lys had retrieved, Noah had already detected Senna's hesitation.
He briefly explained to Friedm and Lys. Though disappointed, they found nothing problematic—every family member deserved personal freedom.
Lys even stood at the doorway muttering continuously:
"This is my fault. I should've considered everyone's current commitments before purchasing tickets..."
"Well then, Mother, I wish your potion improvements success, so..."
Lys inhaled deeply before launching into instructions:
"Don't leave the house, Mother. I can't deny I've antagonized those potioneers rather severely recently. Should you need anything, send Lucy the owl. The emergency Portkey's on the cabinet. You can Apparate from the storage room corner and shop counter. Those alchemical accessories..."
"Oh, very well, I understand. I won't remove them even whilst sleeping. If anti-Apparition charms activate, I'll smash that amber plate stack. You repeat this every departure. I know. You all stay safe too."
Senna rubbed her temples, gazing up at her perpetually worrying daughter.
"Attend to your own needs. Stop constantly revolving around us!" After awkwardly expressing concern, Senna slammed the door with a sharp bang.
Lys licked her lips. "Er... I've baked numerous cookies in the kitchen cabinet—they don't crumble! Perfect for potion-brewing! Coco! Remember to bring them out for Mother!"
"Yes, Miss! Coco remembers! Coco will cook according to Miss's recipes!"
Coco's voice cracked with excitement:
"Marvelous! Miss has finally departed! The kitchen belongs to Coco again! Oh, Coco is a wicked elf... Hahaha, the kitchen!"
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