I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 228 The Competition Begins

Elizabeth was easily persuaded; a few words were enough to send her to Harry's side to watch the game. After all, they both played Seek the Ball, and exchanging tips would enhance their viewing experience.

As for Louis, he was just there to watch the fun; after all, he didn't want to stay home and take care of his nephew, that would be no fun.

Little brat... This is the age when kids are most annoying, and Louis is really afraid that he might have developed a talent for self-discovery and bone-cutting without any instruction.

Ron, who was standing next to him, took out his panoramic binoculars and started adjusting them. Once everything was ready, he picked up the binoculars and looked at the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wow, this thing is amazing," Ron exclaimed. "I mean, it can replay things. If I wanted, I could even replay how Louis pulled the ribbon off Christa's leg... pull it again, pull it again... tsk, Louis..."

He wore an envious expression, wondering when he could tease Hermione like that.

Hermione, now in fourth grade, has fully blossomed into a beautiful young woman. To be fair, she is undeniably pretty, but her cerebral palsy is undeniable in certain areas. She is currently not paying any attention to the meeting in front of her, but is completely focused on writing furiously in her notebook, sketching and writing for her House-Elf Rescue Committee.

Harry pulled a velvet-covered, fringed game manual from her pocket, flipped through it, found the page on the opening ceremony, and read aloud, "Oh, this is really good, there will be a performance by the team's mascot before the game."

"A mascot?" Louis released Christa and turned his head to ask, "Harry, think about it, if Hogwarts needed a mascot, what would it be?"

He used the pronoun "he" here, not "it".

"A mascot?" Harry looked up and pondered. "A lion?"

"No, that's Gryffindor's mascot." Louis then looked at the Weasley twins: "George, Fred, what do you think?"

"An eight-eyed giant spider?" the two said in unison.

Louis remained noncommittal, glancing at Ginny, who was practicing her tongue crackling: "What do you think, Ginny?"

"Ah? Ah..." Ginny glanced shyly at Harry. Before she could speak, George interjected, "Don't worry, sis, it's definitely not Harry."

Ginny glared back fiercely, the gist of which was that if he continued talking nonsense, she would be torn to pieces.

"So, what is it, Louis?" Ron asked impatiently.

Louis shrugged, glanced at Catherine, then at Percy, and said with ill intent, "Wetherby..."

The entire private room was silent for two or three seconds, seemingly not expecting Louis to give such an answer. Then came a burst of loud laughter. Percy, unaware of what was happening, kept looking in their direction.

"Hey, our mascot," George picked up a juice glass from the tea table, "a toast to Weatherby—"

"To Weatherby!" Everyone raised their glasses with smiles, toasting Percy.

Percy stared at them with a dark expression, thinking to himself, "They're really going to stick with this nickname, aren't they...?"

"I think you should stay away from Barty Crouch; after all, he can't even remember your name," Charlie said meaningfully, patting Percy on the shoulder.

But a Percy who listens to advice wouldn't be Percy.

Although the box was full, the adjacent boxes seemed to be filled with important figures from the magical world. People kept coming over to greet him, and Percy felt like he was sitting on a hedgehog, constantly standing up and sitting down. When Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge himself arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell to the ground and shattered on the spot.

He was extremely embarrassed, so he quickly fixed the lens with his wand and then sat there blankly.

The society died, which is true.

Cornelius Fudge greeted Dumbledore first, then Lewis, and then, like old friends who hadn't seen each other for years, he chatted with Harry. Percy's eyes were filled with jealousy, like a chubby girl who was being looked down upon seeing the class beauty being fawned over.

After all, Harry and Fudge knew each other. Fudge held Harry's hand affectionately like an old father, asking him what was wrong and introducing him to the wizard beside him.

For some reason, Louis had this strange feeling that he wanted Harry to sing a song about how the Minister's kindness could never be repaid.

"Harry Potter! You know him!" he shouted to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic beside him—a man dressed in a magnificent black velvet robe with gold trim who looked like he couldn't understand a word of English.

"Harry Potter! Oh, my goodness." Fudge slapped his forehead, pointing to the scar on Harry's forehead. "Oh, think about it, you should know who he is, the boy who escaped death from the Man of Varian. You must know who he is, right?"

Although the Bulgarian Minister of Magic didn't understand what Fudge was babbling about, he followed Fudge's finger and saw the scar on Harry's forehead. He immediately pointed at it excitedly and rattled off a long string of words.

"I knew you'd understand." Fudge waved wearily at Harry and said, "I'm not good with languages, so in this situation, I need Barty Crouch... Good heavens, this is exhausting. I wonder where that guy has gone."

But Harry had his own ideas. He politely extended his hand and spoke in Russian—as a former member of the Bloc, Russian was far more widely spoken than English: "Hello, sir."

The Bulgarian Minister of Magic immediately grasped his hand and uttered a string of fluent Russian: "Oh, boy who survived, let me have a good look at you... My goodness, I've heard so much about your miraculous experience. Hello, I am the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, Obaronsk. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Harry shook hands awkwardly, then turned to look at Sirius, only to find that his godfather wasn't even looking at him, but was happily playing cat's cradle with Snape and Emma.

He was practically a social butterfly, and he quickly broke down the barriers between them with just a few words. After a couple of exchanges, Fudge loudly announced, "Ha, look who's here! Lucius..."

Sure enough, the door opened and Lucius and his family of three walked in. He first shook hands with Fudge politely, then greeted Dumbledore, and then walked up to Louis and gave him a slight bow.

"Your Highness."

"Hey, Uncle Lucius." Louis nodded, casually picking up the fruit platter from the table and handing it to Lucius: "Try it, it's this year's new product, it's good for magic."

Lucius didn't stand on ceremony; under Fudge's horrified gaze, he casually stuffed the plate of dried fruit into his pocket.

"Chris, go get some dried fruit for Uncle Lucius." After Louis finished speaking, Draco came over and greeted him with a grin.

"How are things going with you and your little girlfriend, Astoria?" Louis's sudden question made Lucius and Narcissa's ears perk up, and they looked at Draco warily.

Draco hurriedly waved his hands, his face turning red with anxiety. He was currently in the stage of having a crush on Louis, and hadn't revealed the truth yet. After Louis's actions, he suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Look at you, Harry already has a girlfriend, and look at yourself," Louis said with a look of disdain. "You don't want to be the only single person in this house, do you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Sirius Black and Snape both started coughing violently.

Goodness, there are three single guys in total. If you include Chromie, then there should be four.

"I'm only in third grade, and I'll only be in fourth grade when school starts, so there's no rush..." Draco stammered in his defense, only to be interrupted by Narcissa.

"Fourth grade isn't early anymore, aren't you worried she'll be snatched away?" Narcissa's eyes were filled with exasperation at her son's lack of ambition. "When your father was your age, he already dared to confess to me, and what about you? Look at you..."

Draco lowered his head and remained silent, while Ron and Louis exchanged a glance, both suppressing their laughter.

Lucius then turned his gaze to Arthur, walked over, and extended his hand to Arthur: "Arthur, it's been a long time."

"Hello, Lucius." Arthur was still a little uncomfortable shaking hands with Lucius, but since the other party was willing to show goodwill, he didn't mind returning a smile.

"Being able to take some time out of your busy schedule to watch the World Cup is quite a pleasant thing," Lucius said with a reserved smile. "I'm sure you can relate to that; I imagine the work of the Muggle Misuse Prevention Division isn't exactly easy either."

"Hey, you can argue with that." Mr. Weasley laughed heartily, patting his belly. "Look, I've gotten so thin. The waistband Molly just sewed for me looks like I'll have to sew it in again in a couple of days."

"But you don't look thinner," Lucius said, poking Mr. Weasley's stomach with his snake-headed cane, making the latter laugh uproariously.

Aunt Molly stared at her husband in horror, wondering when the Weasleys and Malfoys had become so close.

Fortunately, Narcissa didn't go looking for her, but instead struck up a conversation with Solanlian. Upon learning that the person in front of her was Louise's mother, she immediately adopted a serious expression.

Unfortunately, Yin Sansui doesn't want to talk to anyone right now; she just wants to play with the cat's cradle.

Solanlian pulled at Narcissa's sleeve in surprise, then tapped her head with her index finger. Narcissa immediately understood. After Solanlian whispered a few words to Narcissa about Emma's special circumstances, she immediately evoked the latter's sympathy.

Women are generally more empathetic.

Seeing that their standing there wasn't going to do much good, Dumbledore conjured up a pile of tables and chairs for everyone to sit down. Just then, Ludo Bagman burst into the box, shouting, "Is everyone ready? Minister—may we begin?"

His round, chubby face shone like a shiny, oily corn tortilla.

"Let's begin, Ludo," Fudge said kindly.

Ludo Bagman drew his wand, pointed it to his throat, and chanted, "Sonorus!"

Then, his words, like thunder, resounded throughout the packed stadium. His voice, like rolling thunder, echoed overhead and spread loudly to every corner of the stands.

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

The audience erupted in cheers and applause. Thousands of flags waved simultaneously, accompanied by a jumble of national anthems, creating a truly spectacular scene. On the blackboard opposite them, the last line of the GG: "Babbies & Flavour Beans - Every Bite is an Adventure!" had been erased, and it now displayed: Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0.

"Alright, enough chit-chat, please allow me to introduce—the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stands, a neat, bright red square formation erupted in loud cheers. "I wonder what they brought," Mr. Weasley said, leaning forward from his seat.

"Ah!" He abruptly removed his glasses and hurriedly wiped them on his robe. "Veeva—"

Harry was still shouting, "What are Veela?" but no one answered him. Everyone's attention was drawn to the Veela in the arena, and they were all watching intently.

Louis was no exception. He adjusted his direction and looked down, only to see a hundred Veelas already gliding onto the arena.

Veela was a woman, and without a doubt, she was one of the prettiest women Louis had ever seen. However, unlike Harry, who was drooling, Louis glanced at her twice and then looked away.

It's not very interesting. His legs aren't as long as Catherine's, he's not as pretty as Catherine, his skin isn't as good as Ye Ziyan's, and he doesn't look as well-behaved as Christa. He crossed his arms, adjusted to a more comfortable position, and put his legs in Christa's lap.

"Why aren't you looking? The fawn?" Catherine turned her gaze away and looked at Louis.

"It doesn't mean anything," Louis shrugged. "I'm not some country bumpkin. Do you think I'm Harry Potter?"

After he finished speaking, he looked into the room and found that apart from Emma, ​​Sirius, and Snape's trio, everyone else was intently watching the Veelas on the field.

"My God, they can't be real people—why is their skin glowing like the moon, why is their hair blowing in the wind even when there's no wind..." Harry muttered to himself, staring intently through his binoculars.

Soon, he lost his voice. The Veela began to dance, and his mind went blank as they danced. His nose felt hot, and two red lines were pulled off his nostrils, but he felt nothing.

Louis saw Harry's lecherous behavior, glanced down at the Veela on the field, nudged Catherine, pinched Ye Ziyan, and whispered, "You two watch carefully, learn from him, and then go back and dance for me..."

The two women exchanged a glance and chose to ignore Louis, but they were both secretly competing with each other, determined to learn the Veela's dance and not let the other beat them to it.

(End of this chapter)