Chapter 75 - 75. lets play ball (2/2)

”Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione's voice and Ryan looked over.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Ryan lost it he was laughing so hard he nearly fell from his seat. puberty must have hit them harder than he thought. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

”You'll be wanting that,” he said, ”once Ireland have had their say. ”

”Huh?” said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field. Ryan had scored some points with the girls being immune to the veela and Luna was now holding his hand.

”And now,” roared Ludo Bagman's voice, ”kindly put your wands in the air. . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

”Excellent!” yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.”Leprechauns!”

Ryan wanted to steal one so bad he wanted to figure out how they work and see how they responded to lucky charms he needed to know.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

”And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!”

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

”Ivanova!”

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

”Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!”

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

”And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!” yelled Bagman. ”Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!”

Seven green blurs swept onto the field

”And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!”

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.