Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 275 The game is over
The Quidditch World Cup final ended with a victory for the Irish national team.

Of course, the competition was still quite thrilling and exciting.

But Tiera paid no attention, because he was busy controlling the Dementor Eye to absorb emotions like pleasure, anger, and...lust.

For some reason, in broad daylight, several wizards and witches inexplicably began releasing hormones as they watched Viktor Krum fly back and forth in mid-air—

Clearly, the high-speed movement in the air pressed Viktor Krumm's thin jersey tightly against his chest, revealing his magnificent, ancient Greek-sculpted abdominal and pectoral muscles.

"I can! I can! I can! I can! I can!"

Tiera heard other sounds mixed in with the cheers—

Tierra, being a helpful person, incidentally absorbed these emotions for the male and female witches.

Please put on some clothes in public, thank you.

Therefore, all of Tyrell's information about the match was relayed to him by Harry Potter.

Harry monopolized the telescope while explaining things to Tyrell.

Although Bulgarian national team chaser Viktor Krum eventually caught the Golden Snitch, it was too late—

Ultimately, the Irish national team defeated the Bulgarian national team by a narrow margin of 170 to 160 points, winning the 422nd Quidditch World Cup.

Huge cheers and joyful shouts erupted from the mouths of the Irish fans like a volcanic eruption.

The Dementor's Eye is currently overwhelmed with work—

There was just so much joy at the scene, it was almost overflowing.

So Tiera can just let it absorb happiness as it pleases, as much as it can absorb. Anyway, Tiera has already made a fortune from this World Cup trip.

The little goblins flitted about in the air above the arena with great joy.

Meanwhile, Bulgaria's Viktor Krum was surrounded by a group of doctors and wizards. Viktor Krum's face was quite gloomy. He wouldn't let the doctors clean his wounds or wipe away the bloodstains, and he wouldn't let any doctor touch him. His teammates were also around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected.

Not far away, in what seemed like another world, the Irish players were dancing with joy, their mascot showering them with gold coins—

Tierra waved her wand again when no one was looking—

There was nothing that could be done; Tiera, who possessed the traditional virtues of China's five thousand years of history, simply couldn't stand seeing people waste things like that.

But at this point, nobody cared about the gold coins anymore. Even Barty Crouch, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who was sitting not far from Tiera, didn't even glance at Tiera.

Flags were waved everywhere in the stadium, and the Irish national anthem rang out from all directions.

The beautiful Veela looked dejected and gloomy.

This, in turn, makes them even more charming.

At least Tiera absorbed a lot of "I can, I can, I can..." emotions.

“I said, we fought very bravely,” a heavy voice said behind Harry.

He turned his head and saw that it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

“You can speak English!” Fudge said, sounding very annoyed. “But you’ve made me spend all day here gesturing!”

“Hey, that’s really fun,” the Bulgarian minister said with a shrug. “Now, the Irish team is circling the field with their mascots, and the Quidditch World Cup trophy has been delivered to the top tier box!” Ludobagman announced in his booming voice.

Suddenly, a dazzling beam of light pierced through the area, magically illuminating the top-floor VIP box and allowing all the spectators in the stands to see what was happening inside.

At the entrance to the penthouse box, two panting wizards carried in a large golden cup and handed it to Cornelius Fudge. Fudge—

Fudge still looked unhappy because he had spent the whole day gesturing in vain, trying to make the Bulgarian understand him.

"Let's give a warm round of applause to welcome the Bulgarian team, who have fought honorably despite their defeat!" Bagman immediately shouted.

The seven defeated Bulgarian players went upstairs and into the private room.

The fans of both the Bulgarian and Irish national teams applauded and cheered, expressing their admiration.

After all, as Ludobagman said, in the eyes of the Bulgarian national team fans, they were still honorable in defeat.

For fans of the Irish national team—

Since the team you support has already won, nobody cares about giving the loser some dignity.

As the Bulgarian team members walked one by one into the two rows of seats in the VIP box, shaking hands with their minister and Fouché in turn, Bagman shouted out each person's name.

Krum was at the back of the line, looking quite disheveled, his face stained with blood, and his dark circles under his eyes were particularly striking. He still clutched the Golden Snitch in his hand.

“Hey, Tyella…” Harry whispered to Tyella as he turned to her side.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Tierra whispered.

“Did you notice, Wick… cough, once he landed on the ground…” Harry whispered, “his movements looked a little uncoordinated…”

“Yes, I noticed that,” Tierra whispered in Harry’s ear. “His legs are slightly turned outwards, and his shoulders are noticeably bent forward.”

“Given the severity of his pigeon-toed stance and hunched shoulders, he is very likely suffering from a congenital, hereditary calcium deficiency,” Tierra added.

"What?" Harry clearly didn't quite understand some of the technical terms Tyrell used, but when he tried to ask back, his voice was drowned out by a deafening roar of cheers.

Because at that very moment, Bagman called out Viktor Krum's name—

The entire stadium erupted in thunderous cheers for him.

Next up on stage were the players from the Irish team.

Aidan Linzi was being supported by Moran and Connolly. The second fall seemed to have knocked him unconscious, and his eyes were unfocused and blank.

But when Troy and Quigley raised the trophy high and the audience erupted in thunderous applause and cheers, Lynch also grinned.

Finally, the Irish team left the box and rode brooms around the field.

At that moment, Bagman pointed his wand to his throat and whispered, "Whisper."

"Cough cough cough cough... This match... cough cough cough cough... is destined to be talked about for years to come," Ludobagman said in a hoarse voice. "What an unexpected turn of events... It's just a pity the match didn't last any longer... Ah, right... right, how much should I give you...?"

At this moment, Fred and George had already flipped over the back of the chair and stood in front of Ludobagman.

They smiled happily and triumphantly, stretching out their palms.

(End of this chapter)