Chapter 75 - 75. lets play ball (1/2)
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
”Knew we'd get there in the end,” said Fudge wearily to Harry. ”I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat. . . . Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places. . . ah, and here's Lucius!” Ryans smile grew massive as he saw Lucius he had to thank the man for making him rich . A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair, Draco greatly resembled his father. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose probably draco I'd be insulted if I had a kid like him too.
”Ah, Fudge,” said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. ”How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?”
”How do you do, how do you do?” said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. ”And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk – Obalonsk – Mr. – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind.
It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other and Harry vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row.
”Good lord, Arthur,” he said softly. ”What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?”
”And what about you Lucius I've heard you've run into some financial problems and misplaced a bit of money.” oooooh burn
Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Ryan knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. His time was limited anyway.
Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.
”Everyone ready?” he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. ”Minister – ready to go?”
”Ready when you are, Ludo,” said Fudge comfortably.
Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said ”Sonorus!” and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.
”Ladies and gentlemen. . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”
The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans – A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.
”And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce. . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.
”I wonder what they've brought,” said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. ”Aaah!” He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. ”Veela!”
”What are veel -?”
But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him.
Veela were women. . . the most beautiful women Ryan had ever seen. . . except that they weren't –they were a type of avian human The veela had started to dance, and Ryans mind had taken a hit to his occulmency shields he sneered and shrugged it off.
And as the veela danced faster and faster, the pressure increased a little but he was fine he didn't like the idea of anything messing with his mind.