Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

For the high-level wizards of the British Ministry of Magic, holding a global sports event is an excellent opportunity to show their national strength and strengthen exchanges and communication with the Ministry of Magic of other countries.

However, for low-level wizards like Harry, the Quidditch World Cup is more of a carnival that can be entertained.

Just before the Quidditch match started, in less than ten minutes, Harry's wallet was much empty.

Instead, it was the game memorabilia that he wore on his head, pinned to his chest, held in his arms, and held in his hands.

Of course, compared to him, other people are not much better.

Bill, Charlie and Ginny also bought green sports badges, Clark, Neville and Hermione had magic binoculars around their necks, Mr Wesley held an Irish flag, George and Frey, who were now well-earned Germany, but also a little bit of every souvenir.

According to them, the money can be used and earned again, but there are not many opportunities to spend it like today.

When a group of people returned to the tent with their belongings in their arms, there was a deep and deep sound of gongs in the woods in the distance.

The next moment, thousands of colorful lights bloomed on the treetops, illuminating the road to the stadium.

"Time's up!" Mr. Wesley looked as excited as everyone else. "Come on, let's go."

He and Sirius were one after the other, sandwiching the children between them, all of them clutching their purchases, and walking briskly down the lighted passage into the woods.

Along the way, they were all wizards who went to the arena like them. Harry never thought that there were so many people in the wizarding world around the world.

Although they came from all over the world, their skin color was different, and their language was difficult to communicate, the shouting, laughter, and intermittent singing were exceptionally consistent.

This frenzied excitement is contagious, and even Clarke can't help but laugh from ear to ear.

A group of people had been walking in the woods for twenty minutes, and when they came out on the other side of the woods, they happened to be in the shadow of a huge gymnasium.

Although from their point of view, they could only see the part of the magnificent golden wall around the arena, but it could be seen that it would not be a problem to install ten cathedrals here.

"My Healing Game"

"It can hold 100,000 spectators!"

Mr. Wesley said proudly, seeing the amazed expressions on the children's faces.

"Five hundred Ministry of Magic staff have been working on this for a whole year, putting Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of this place.

During the year, whenever Muggles approached here, they would suddenly remember a hundred thousand urgent things, and then hurried away... God bless them. "

As he introduced, he led everyone to the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by many shouting wizards.

"First-class tickets."

The Ministry of Magic witch at the entrance looked at their tickets and said.

"Top Box! Keep going upstairs, Arthur, to the top."

The stairs leading to the top box of the gym were covered with a soft fuchsia carpet. They walked up the stairs with the crowd, who slowly entered the stands on the left and right.

And they kept going up, and finally came to the top of the stairs, and saw a small box, located at the top of the stadium, and facing the golden goal post.

Thirty purple gilded seats were pushed out of the box, which were divided into two rows, one high and one low.

There is also a small table next to each seat with tea and snacks.

Clark and Wesley's family, as well as Harry and Hermione, sat in the front row, looking down.

I saw that in the huge oval gymnasium, the stepped seats were arranged upwards, like a huge Colosseum.

More than 100,000 wizards from all over the world are laughing and shouting, taking their seats one after another under their noses.

On both sides of the arena, three pitching hoops were erected, each with a height of fifty feet. From the small box, there was no need to lift the neck, and the line of sight was very suitable.

On the right side of the hoop, almost parallel to Clark's line of sight, is a huge blackboard, with golden words flashing on it, as if an invisible giant hand was writing on the blackboard, and then put them wipe away.

Lost car daisy: broom for the whole family - safe, reliable, with built-in anti-theft buzzer…

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Fengya wizard costumes: London, Paris, Hogsmeade…

Well, after all, it is a global entertainment event, commercial operation, and a little advertising sponsorship is normal.

And all of the above are shrouded in a mysterious golden light. This light seems to come from the stadium itself. It gathers and circulates in the sky above their heads. It should be used to prevent probes such as Muggle satellites from snooping on the game site. of.

After condescendingly glanced around the game scene, Clark turned his attention to the box where they were sitting.

At this time, because it was still in the stage of entry, there was no one in the box yet, and there was only a surprisingly small guy sitting in the second-to-last seat in the row behind them.

It was a house elf. It was wearing a tea towel for wiping the tea set. It looked like it was wearing a loose robe, and its face was buried in both hands. It looked like it was afraid of heights. Long, bat-like ears, sticking out and shaking.

Clark knew that this should be Barty Crouch's house-elf Sparkle.

His gaze shifted slightly again, landing on the empty spot beside Winky.

There is indeed nothing there, but for Clark, who is a [psionic], the naked eye is not the only means of observing the outside world.

A mad, hysterical, but severely suppressed fanatic, like a bloodthirsty wolf, appeared in his mental perception.

Of course there are no wolves here, but sometimes people are more dangerous than animals.

The house-elf sitting there also seemed to sense that someone was looking at him, raised his head and released his fingers, revealing a pair of huge brown eyes and a big nose like a tomato.

"Sir, what's the matter?" the elf asked curiously from between his fingers.

She had a high-pitched voice, louder than some of the Clark house-elves, so Clark could easily tell that it was a female house-elf.

"fine."

Clark smiled and looked away. He knew that he and the guy who was hiding beside the house elf would have many opportunities to get along in the future, so he didn't have to rush for a while.

In the next half hour, as the game time approached, the small box they were in gradually filled with people.

Many of them were known to Clark, and they had dealt with them several times, all of them were great wizards with great status.

Percy, who was sitting next to them, stood up hastily again and again, because every time Mr. Wesley shook hands, he introduced them to his son, who worked at the Ministry of Magic.

"Yeah, he's my third son, Percy Weiss..."

"Working at the Ministry of Magic, under Barty..."

"What ability can the little guy have, it's just a little more diligent work..."

Whenever Mr. Wesley made such an introduction, Percy had to bow slightly as a sign of respect.

As a result, when Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge himself arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

This made the proud lad so embarrassed that he picked up his glasses from the floor, fixed the lenses with magic, and sat down in his seat, making up his mind never to get up again.

Cornelius Fudge didn't seem to notice the episode either, but greeted Clark with a smile, as if meeting an old friend.

"Hey Clark, long time no see, how was your summer vacation?"

"Thanks to you, Minister, I have had a good time this summer. It would be great if I could stay like this all the time."

"Hahaha!" Fudge was amused by Clark laughing. "That's not good. Dumbledore will definitely trouble me, but I think you will have a very interesting semester."

After speaking, he turned around and greeted Harry beside him.

Harry and Fudge had known each other before, and Fudge held his hand lovingly like a father, not only greeting him, but also introducing him to the foreign wizard sitting next to him.

"Harry Potter, you know!"

He told the Bulgarian Minister of Magic aloud, who was wearing an ornate black velvet robe with gold trimmings, and who didn't seem to understand a word of English.

"Harry Potter... oh, come to think of it, you should know who he is... the boy who escaped from the dead at the hands of You-Know-Who... You must know who he is—"

The Bulgarian Minister of Magic suddenly saw the scar on Harry's forehead, and immediately pointed at it excitedly, murmuring loudly.

"I knew he would always understand." Fudge complained to Clark with a wry smile.

"I'm not very good at languages, and when things like this happen, it's usually Barty Crouch who comes forward.

The only good thing about him is that he never brings personal emotions into his work.

By the way, you should have seen him this afternoon..."

In the face of Minister Fudge's meaning, Clark just smiled, then changed the subject and whispered in his ear.

"Minister, in fact, I think this matter should be able to be done without Mr. Crouch. After all, Mr. Minister from Bulgaria knows English."

Fudge's eyes widened, "I knew it, this sly guy!"

He seemed to be led astray by Clark's words, and was about to get up and reason with the Bulgarian Minister of Magic when a few more guys entered the small box.

"Ah, here comes Lucius!"

Someone shouted, Harry and the others turned their heads immediately, and saw that the three seats that were still vacant in the second row behind Mr. Wesley were Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco, and a woman, that should be Draco's mother.

Draco Malfoy was a pale boy with a pointy face and blond hair, very much like his father.

His mother was also light-skinned and had yellow hair. She was not ugly at first, but she always put on an expression of disgust, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

"Ah, Fudge," Malfoy held out his hand as he approached the Minister for Magic. "Hello, I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa, yet? And our son, Decora."

"Hello, hello," Fudge smiled and bowed to Mrs. Malfoy, "permit me to introduce you to Mr. Oberanzik - Mr. Obalonsk - the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria Let me see who else—you know Arthur Weiss?"

Lucius Malfoy's icy gray eyes went straight past Arthur Weiss, then to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Clark.

When he saw Clark, his eyes stopped for a moment, but quickly passed.

"Of course, Minister, but I didn't expect Arthur to sit here. I'm really curious. What did he sell to get this top box seat."

Fudge didn't get what Lucius meant, or maybe he got it but didn't want to get involved, he just said anyway.

"Lucius just recently made a large donation to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries, Arthur. He's my guest of honor."

Having said that, what else can Mr. Wesley do? He can only force a smile on his face, "Oh—that's really good."

But the most unexpected thing at the scene, UU reading www. uukanshu.com is not Wesley and Malfoy who almost got into a fight, but another pair.

"Oh, how can you be here?!"

Draco Malfoy's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, looked at Sirius sitting in the front seat with a look of contempt. That look of disgust was very annoying.

Naturally, Sirius wouldn't give him a good face, so he mocked her and said, "Why, cousin Narcissa, do you feel ashamed to have a murderer cousin like me?"

These words caused many people present to turn their attention, and the atmosphere in the whole box became extremely depressed for a while, and even those foreign wizards realized that something was wrong.

Fortunately, Clark saw that the situation was not good, and took the initiative to be a peacemaker.

"Mrs Malfoy, as early as two months ago, the Ministry of Magic issued a document proving that Sirius is not a murderer, but a hero.

Regarding this point, I think the Minister can still testify. "

Fudge gave him a grateful look, and Lucius Malfoy also pressed his wife to the seat forcefully to prevent her from saying anything that should not have been said and swept Fudge's face.

Fortunately, another active person rushed into the box soon.

"Are you all ready?" Ludo Bagman's round face shone like a giant ball of cheese. "Minister—can we begin?"

"Please start as soon as possible, Ludo," said Fudge kindly.

Ludo drew his wand and pointed it at his throat.

"The voice is loud!"

In an instant, his thunderous voice resounded through the packed gymnasium and spread to every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup Final!"