LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 161: The Troublemakers
Inside the luxury box, the more prestigious attendees sat calmly in their seats, maintaining their composed demeanor.
The exception was the three Weasley brothers, who abandoned all decorum as they scrambled to collect the falling Galleons.
Ginny, her cheeks flushed with excitement, was itching to join them. She already had her wand in hand, waiting for her brothers' signal.
"That's fake," Harry kindly reminded them.
The coins lacked the magical resonance of real Galleons.
Ron froze, then hesitantly brought one of the coins to his mouth and bit down hard—only to hurt his teeth.
He winced, clutching his jaw, and looked at Harry with a mix of pain and reproach.
"Harry, you lied! This isn't chocolate; it's real gold!"
Harry shook his head, suppressing a smile. He remembered the time Hermione had brought chocolate coins to Hogwarts. Ron, mistaking them for real Galleons, nearly knelt and called her "Mum." The sight of so many coins casually tossed his way had momentarily overwhelmed him.
Even after discovering they were just chocolate, Ron hadn't been disappointed. The chocolate had been delicious.
"That's Leprechaun gold," Fudge explained.
"Of course, it's not real Galleons. The Ministry wouldn't allow that—this much gold would dwarf ticket revenues."
He snorted dismissively.
"And Ireland isn't exactly a rich country. They couldn't afford this even if they tried."
The Irish Minister of Magic let out a disdainful snort and turned away.
"You don't need to get so excited, Weasley gentlemen," Lucius Malfoy sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.
"The coins will disappear in a few hours. Hardly enough for your dreams of wealth."
Ron's face turned scarlet.
George, stowing the bag of coins, retorted icily,
"We may love money, Mr. Malfoy, but perhaps you should keep an eye on your dear son."
"Seems like he's fallen head over heels for a Veela," Fred chimed in, clutching his chest dramatically.
"Who knows? Maybe the Malfoy family will soon have its first Veela bride."
Draco Malfoy, still dazed and under the Veela's enchantment, was oblivious to the conversation.
Lucius Malfoy gritted his teeth.
"Watch your tongue."
George opened his mouth and exhaled theatrically in Lucius's direction.
"Thanks for your concern, but I brushed this morning. I'd wager my breath's cleaner than a Basilisk's."
Lucius's face went pale.
Fudge, also uneasy, quickly intervened.
"Alright, enough. Let's focus on the game. Bagman's introducing the Irish team."
The Irish and Bulgarian Ministers exchanged curious glances, their interest piqued by the mention of Basilisks and the tension between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. Still, they refrained from pressing the matter as the match was about to begin.
The start of the match brought relief to both Lucius and Fudge.
The gap between professional teams and school teams was immediately apparent—not just in individual skill but in overall team strategy.
Gryffindor's team at Hogwarts had its own tactics, but they mainly revolved around coordination between Chasers and Beaters. Harry, as Seeker, was often left to his own devices. The rest of the team's primary goal was to ensure Gryffindor didn't fall behind by more than 150 points before Harry caught the Snitch.
At Hogwarts, catching the Snitch usually meant winning the match.
But for professional teams, the Snitch played a smaller role. Beaters focused heavily on disrupting and pressuring opposing Seekers, and Ireland excelled in this regard. Within the first ten minutes, the score had already shifted to 30-0 in Ireland's favor.
Bulgaria, however, had a strong defense against Seekers. Ireland's Seeker spent most of the match evading Bludgers and had little time to search for the Snitch.
Meanwhile, Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's Seeker, demonstrated exceptional flying skills—nearly on par with Harry. His daring was unmatched, frequently executing the dangerous "Wronski Feint." This maneuver involved diving toward the ground at maximum speed, pulling up at the last possible moment to avoid a crash.
Ireland's Seeker, lacking both Krum's skill and courage, fell for the feint the first time. He followed Krum into a dive, only to realize there was no Snitch. He narrowly avoided a fatal crash, and the match had to pause for five minutes while St. Mungo's medics treated his injuries.
Shaken by the experience, the Irish Seeker became cautious, avoiding risky maneuvers and even dodging Bludgers clumsily.
Despite the setback, Ireland maintained a commanding lead in points. Realizing their Seeker wouldn't catch the Snitch anytime soon, the Irish team adjusted their strategy, effectively sidelining their Seeker to focus on their Chasers.
As the action intensified, the atmosphere in the stadium grew electric.
Even the mascots—Veela and Leprechauns—got into a brawl, drawing some spectators' attention. However, the fight quickly lost its appeal when the Veela transformed into their bird-like forms, and no one's clothing was torn.
"He really loves that feint," Ron muttered as Krum dove again.
"Harry, you should use it more often—"
"No," Harry interrupted, his eyes fixed on Krum's dive.
"This time, it's not a feint. He's spotted the Snitch."
"And I don't need to use that trick," he added, voice calm.
"The other Seekers at Hogwarts are nowhere near my level."
Ron only caught the first part of Harry's response. He grabbed his binoculars, following Krum's dive intently.
At first, Ireland's Seeker hesitated, thinking it was another feint. But soon, he, too, spotted the Snitch and sped up, matching Krum's pace.
Then—he crashed hard into the ground, his head nearly colliding with his shoulders.
Above, Krum raised his right hand triumphantly, holding the fluttering Golden Snitch. His face was flushed with excitement, but as he glanced at the scoreboard, his expression turned pale.
160-170.
Bulgaria trailed by ten points.
Although Krum had caught the Snitch, sealing his status as the match's top Seeker, Ireland's overall lead meant they won the game.
Bulgaria's Minister of Magic yanked off his hat and threw it to the ground in frustration, swearing loudly.
In contrast, Ireland's Minister leaped up with a cheer, summoned his broomstick, and flew to the field to celebrate with his team—and to console his injured Seeker.
George, Fred, and Sirius erupted into cheers.
"We won!"
Ludo Bagman's face turned ashen. He stared at them in disbelief.
"How is this possible?" he muttered.
"Krum catches the Snitch, but Ireland wins? It's almost too perfect!"
Turning to Harry, he swallowed hard.
"Mr. Potter… can you see the future?"
Harry gave him a puzzled look.
"Why would you think that? If I could, I'd have bet at least a thousand Galleons with you."
Ludo inhaled sharply.
"Mr. Bagman," George and Fred said in unison, grinning wickedly,
"You owe us 1,200 Galleons. Don't forget."
Ludo forced a weak smile.
"Of course. I'll pay you soon. 1,200 Galleons is a lot—let's settle it after we leave the stadium, alright? I just need some time to prepare."
After a grand awards ceremony, the crowd began leaving the stadium.
"That match ended way too quickly," Ron grumbled, fiddling with his magical binoculars.
"They cost 20 Galleons and were only useful for one day."
"It's evening now," Hermione noted, looking up at the fiery sunset.
Nearby, George and Fred huddled with Sirius, excitedly discussing how to spend their 1,200 Galleon windfall.
Back at the campsite, they had a quick dinner. Soon after, Ludo arrived with a bag of coins.
"Weasley gentlemen, here's your prize money—1,200 Galleons. As head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, I never default on my debts. Would you like to count it?"
"Of course," George replied cheerfully.
Fred reached for the bag, and Ludo hesitated. These boys were far too bold, showing no respect for his position.
The moment Fred pulled out a coin, Harry spoke up.
"Fake. Leprechaun gold."
Ludo froze.
Sirius's expression darkened as he raised his wand.
"Mr. Bagman?"
"No—please, Mr. Black, let me explain!" Ludo pleaded, raising his hands.
"The bag contains 200 real Galleons, but… this result was so unlikely. My promise was rash. Let's call it even?"
Harry cut him off.
"You didn't say 'even' when you accepted the bet."
George tucked the bag away without counting further.
"Mr. Bagman, you wouldn't want everyone to know that Ludo Bagman is a conman, would you? Especially one who cheats Hogwarts students."
Fred chimed in sarcastically,
"Imagine the scandal."
Ludo sighed.
"Give me time—at least until the end of the year. I promise I'll repay you."
George conferred with Sirius, then announced,
"We'll give you until the end of the year. But after that, it'll still be 1,200 Galleons—no less."
Ludo nodded reluctantly.
"Fine. But I may need your help with something. I'll send you an owl after term starts."
Though suspicious of his vague request, they agreed.
Later that night, as they played a charmed board game Hermione had brought, a commotion erupted outside.
There were cries and shouts, mixed with hysterical sobbing. Harry immediately drew his wand and the Sword of Gryffindor, activating the Quen Seal as he cautiously stepped outside.
The campsite was in chaos.
Spells flew wildly as wizards ran in panic. A group of black-robed wizards staggered drunkenly through the camp, laughing maniacally. Spells shot from their ranks, and above them hovered four people: Mr. Roberts, the Muggle campsite manager, and what appeared to be his wife and children.
"They're… ordinary people," Harry observed, his face expressionless.
He turned to George and Fred.
"Do wizards always cause this kind of trouble when drunk?"
The twins, pale-faced, shook their heads vehemently.
"No. Wizards don't torment Muggles for fun. Only dark wizards would do something like this."
As if on cue, one of the black-robed wizards fired a spell at the nearest tent, setting it ablaze. His laughter rang out, chilling and deranged.
----------
Powerstones?
For 20 advance chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates