"It's him, it's him!" Ron shouted, following Krum with his omnioculars.
Victor Krum was tall, dark, and thin with grayish-yellow skin, a large hooked nose, and thick black eyebrows, resembling a massive eagle.
When Harry saw him, he was still muttering to himself.
Damn it, eighteen?
You'd believe him if he said he was twenty-eight — of course, maybe it's because Slavs tend to look older?
"Now, please welcome — the Ireland National Quidditch Team!" Bagman shouted, "Taking the field are — Connelly! Ryan! Troy! Marlette! Molan! Quigley! And— and— and— Lin Qi!"
Seven blurry green figures flew towards the stadium. Harry turned the side knob of his omnioculars to slow down the players' movements, seeing clearly that their flying brooms had "Fire Crossbow Arrow" imprinted, and their names embroidered in silver on their backs.
"And our referee today, flown all the way from Egypt and deeply respected, the Chairman of the International Quidditch Federation — Hassan Mustafa!"
A short, wiry wizard wearing a golden robe matching the stadium's color walked briskly onto the field.
His head was completely bald, but his great beard could rival Uncle Vernon's. A silver whistle extended from under his beard.
Under one arm, he carried a big wooden box, and under the other, his flying broom.
Harry adjusted the omnioculars back to normal speed, watching Mustafa mount his flying broom and kick open the wooden box — four balls shot into the air: a bright red Ghost Flying Ball, two black Wandering Balls, and the tiny, winged Golden Snitch.
Mustafa blew the whistle and flew into the air with the balls.
After all, it's the Quidditch World Cup finals, certainly not something the Hogwarts internal cup could compare to.
Whether in intensity or excitement, it was truly captivating.
Seeing Krum injured, Harry put down the omnioculars and turned to Vivi, only to find her wearing glasses and reading a book on her lap.
"Why aren't you watching the match?"
Harry asked Vivi amidst the shouts of 'foul.'
"I'm not interested in this kind of match." Vivi said as she turned a page, without looking up.
"Then why do you never miss my Quidditch matches?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Vivi looked up, adjusted her glasses.
"Because it's your match."
With that, she bowed her head and continued reading the book on her lap.
Next to her, Cassandra made a scornful sound, expressing dissatisfaction towards this overly man-attracting person.
For a moment, Harry felt that the match was okay not to watch.
He coughed twice, looked at people around him deeply focused on the game, and went back to Vivi's side, sitting between her and Cassandra.
"Where's Pabi?" Vivi asked.
"Pabi isn't interested in this kind of match, so she didn't come," Harry said, raising the binoculars to his eyes only to lower them again, "But apparently Professor Scamander had something else for her, so she didn't come."
"Oh, right." Harry continued: "I also invited Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall but they also had something else, so they didn't come to watch."
"That's really a pity."
Vivi said it, but Harry didn't perceive any regret in her tone.
"So who do you think will win?" Harry continued the conversation aimlessly, "Looking at the current situation, Ireland Team has absolute advantage, I can't imagine how Bulgaria Team can turn the game around unless Victor Krum catches the Golden Snitch within a score difference of 150."
"But you know it's impossible," Vivi said, head down, "Believe my judgment, Ireland Team will win ultimately, and Victor Krum will catch the Golden Snitch — which means he can only catch it after the score difference extends beyond 150."
"Seems you are quite confident," Harry resumed.
"I'm always confident." Vivi smiled, "Wanna bet, Harry?"
Cassandra, who had been silent on the side, suddenly spoke to stop Vivi from fooling the child.
"Although I am reluctant to admit it, I still recommend you not to bet with her," she said.
Harry suddenly remembered that Vivi also had some predicting abilities, perhaps she had already foreseen the World Cup result, that's why she symbolically bet with the twins...
"Has anyone ever told you, you really talk a lot now."
Vivi said that, but there was no hint of unhappiness in her expression.
"Ha." Cassandra hugged her arms, "That's way better than cheating a kid—"
"I'm not a child!" Harry attempted to rebel against the two of them.
But as soon as he said it, Vivi looked up, Cassandra also turned her head towards him, the two of them looked at Harry, glanced down.
"Ha."
They both laughed out loud.
Harry took a deep breath...
Can't stand it!
"Save that talk for a couple of years later, darling." Vivi laughed wildly, whispering to Harry's ear, "But now, clearly you are just a child..."
"Yes, you're still a minor," Cassandra looked at him with pitying eyes: "Don't say you are not a child — in front of big sisters—"
At this moment, Mr. Bagman's voice suddenly resonated throughout the stadium.
"He caught it — Krum caught it — the match is over! But Ireland Team kills the game with a score of 170-160!"
Just from the sound alone, you could hear Mr. Bagman's very pleasant mood now.
Everyone thought he felt joyful because Ireland Team won, but only the twins, Mr. Bagman, Harry, and a few others knew why Mr. Bagman was so happy.
Why wouldn't he be? His bet on the ultimate victory paid off, and that's a huge fortune indeed.
"I say, we played valiantly." A heavy voice spoke not far away.
Turning his head, there stood Bulgaria's Minister of Magic.
"You can speak English!" Fudge said, sounding very annoyed, "Yet you made me gesture all day long!"
"Hey, it was quite fun." said the Bulgarian Minister with a shrug.
Beside Harry, Vivi softly said, "Who would believe a Minister of Magic couldn't speak English? For the wizards, learning another language isn't really difficult."
"Only this idiot could think that." Cassandra also whispered to Vivi as they both criticized.
It was evident that neither of them held favorable views toward Fudge.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I take my leave." The Bulgarian Minister shrugged, "Now, I must appear in front of the boys, they've been brave enough, they need proper encouragement now."
After speaking, he bowed to everyone around and turned to leave the box.
Fudge was still a bit upset since he had been gesturing all day long trying to make the Bulgarian Minister understand his words.
He felt like a clown now, although indeed he was a clown.
"You should head down too." Mr. Malfoy timely prompted Fudge, "Being the host, you, as the Minister of Magic, should go present the award to the winning team."
"Yes, oh yes." Fudge finally smiled: "I indeed should be down there, well, see you later then."
After Fudge left, Mr. Malfoy sighed.
"At this rate, the British Magic World will become the laughing stock of the world!"