I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 229 Elizabeth's Ambition

In fact, to some extent, the Bulgarian mascot is somewhat bordering on something else, and Louis despises this kind of behavior of using sex to curry favor.

Right? Even if you did this alone, it's still in public, isn't it? It's indecent. Look at that guy named Porter, his legs are all over the railing; and his good friend Ron, he's striking the classic pose of a Filipino diver by the railing. Birds of a feather flock together.

In a couple of years, we should invite them to act in Titanic and say that classic line on the deck.

"You jump, I jump!"

However, it needs to be clarified that the phrase "Czechoslovakia" did not appear in the original film; it was merely a joke.

Besides, there is no Czechoslovakia anymore; it has split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia.

Inside the box, only the two children looked completely absorbed. Draco sat quietly to the side, but his gaze wasn't directed at the arena; instead, it was directed at Harry, who was perched on the railing.

How can I make fun of this scarred guy? I need help getting an answer online.

"Harry? What are you doing?" Hermione shouted, feeling that if she didn't yell at him, he and Ron would jump down and embarrass themselves.

The music stopped abruptly, and Harry blinked blankly, only then realizing that he was in a very embarrassing position. Looking down, he saw that Ron's position was even more embarrassing.

As the music stopped, the stadium was instantly filled with angry roars; people didn't want Veela to leave—it seemed everyone was a true old-school pervert.

Actually, Harry felt the same way as them. He now deeply regretted wearing the shamrock emblem that represented Ireland. Even if it was just for Miss Veela, he should have supported Bulgaria.

Ireland (crossed out) and Bulgaria are my favorites!

Ron had already done so; he stared blankly as he tore the shamrock off his hat, and Mr. Weasley smiled and leaned over to snatch the hat from Ron's hand.

"You'll need him when the Irish team finishes their performance," Mr. Weasley said meaningfully.

Ron snorted, still intently watching the Veela as they left the arena, now lined up on one side.

He couldn't help but make the comparison in his mind. No matter how he thought about it, Hermione seemed like an underdeveloped bean sprout, flat and undeveloped, even more so than the grass on the arena...

Hermione, glaring angrily at her spineless boyfriend, walked over with Ginny. The two of them dragged their boyfriends back in unison, neither daring to argue. One was afraid of Hermione's punch to the face, and the other was afraid of Ginny's crushing blow.

Louis smacked his lips loudly, looking at the two henpecked men with schadenfreude, and laughed heartily.

"Now!" Ludo Bagman's booming voice, still echoing like thunder throughout the stadium, continued: "Raise your wands to welcome the Irish national team's mascot!"

Then, with a whoosh, a huge, green and gold object flew into the stadium, silencing the boos that were about to erupt in protest. Like a giant comet with a long tail, it circled the stadium once before suddenly splitting into two smaller comets, like Czechoslovakia, each hurtling towards one of the goalposts.

Suddenly, a rainbow bridge appeared in the stadium, connecting the two large, shimmering spheres. The crowd erupted in gasps of amazement. Louis felt as if he were watching a fireworks display from a future era, observing the Bulgarian mascot in front of him.

At this moment, the rainbow gradually disappeared, and the shimmering spheres connected and merged to form a huge and bright clover, which rose into the sky and began to hover above the stands.

Something was pattering down from the clover, like golden raindrops.

Amazing! It's a money-spraying fairy! Gold coins kept falling from that giant clover. Louis has excellent eyesight, and he could see that the clover was actually made up of countless little people wearing red vests and with beards, each carrying a small golden or green lamp.

"It's an Irish leprechaun!" Mr. Weasley had barely finished speaking when he was hit on the head by a gold coin.

People cheered and scrambled under their seats to grab the gold coins, seeing it as a chance to recoup their ticket money—no one wanted to miss it.

What? You mean Veela? Will Veela send us Galleons?

The giant clover gradually disappeared, and the goblins slowly landed opposite the Veela in the arena, sat down cross-legged, and prepared to watch the match.

Ludo Bagman was loudly introducing the players from both sides. Every time he called out a name, a player would dart into the field from the entrance, circling around the field, while their national team fans cheered wildly.

"Firebolts! Good heavens! They're riding Firebolts!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. He had received Firebolts from Sirius at Christmas, but that didn't stop him from being astonished.

"The national team is the national team after all; they have deep pockets," he exclaimed repeatedly.

Mr. Bagman shouted again, "Now, I will introduce you to today's referee, the beloved President of the International Quidditch Federation, who has flown all the way from Egypt!"

Louis looked down and saw a slender, wiry wizard, dressed in a pure gold robe that conformed to the stereotypical image of the Middle East. His bald patch, in particular, gleamed under the light, making him impossible to miss.

Like Mrs. Hooch, he carried a wooden box under one arm containing the Quaffle and other equipment used in the competition, and a silver whistle hung around his neck, making him look like a true professional.

He placed the wooden box on the ground, kicked it open, and four balls shot into the air: a bright red Quake, two black Runners, and a tiny golden Snitch.

With Mustafa's whistle, both teams immediately spurred their brooms to accelerate.

"They're off! They're off!" Elizabeth screamed beside Louis, making Louis's ears tingle.

This little girl was unexpectedly excited, completely unlike her usual self... no, she's usually the epileptic beauty.

Still as a virgin, yet volatile as an epileptic seizure—that perfectly describes the lovely young Miss Elizabeth Gloucester.

Bagman's commentary was loud, but in Louis's opinion, his level was not even one ten-thousandth of Ron and Lee Jordan's. Perhaps, if the game had been commentated by the two of them, it would have been completely different. With their banter, Louis might have been more interested in the game.

He touched Christa's belly with his toe, signaling her to massage his legs.

Christa obediently clenched her fists and gently pounded them on Louis's legs, beginning to massage them.

The players below were flying very fast, so Louis didn't need to use those holographic telescopes. In fact, he had Wind Spirit Moon Shadow... no, it was a specially made invisible competition glasses from the system, which was more convenient to use. Everyone in his family had one, except Emma.

It wasn't that Louis wouldn't give it to her; it was that she didn't like watching Quidditch. In comparison, she preferred playing cat's cradle with Snape and Sirius.

As for Snape and Sirius... Sirius actually really enjoys watching Quidditch, but in this situation, he'd rather play cat's cradle. Snape, needless to say, is utterly disgusted by Quidditch; if it weren't for Louis writing to him, he'd much rather stay home (hanging from the ceiling) and sleep.

"Hehe, the Eiffel Tower!" Emma flipped her little hands, turning the rope into the shape of an Eiffel Tower.

"Awesome!" Sirius clapped wildly. Snape didn't want to join in, but then he thought of his senior who cared about him, so he reluctantly reached out and started clapping as well.

Just as Emma flipped the Eiffel Tower over, the first goal was scored.

Ireland launched a full-scale attack on Bulgaria with an eagle-head formation, skillfully dodging the loose balls hit by Bulgarian batters and throwing the Quaffle into the Bulgarian goal.

"Harry! If you don't watch at normal speed, you're going to miss some great scenes!" Hermione shouted a warning.

Elizabeth pumped her fist and waved it. Her team wasn't in this game, so she was happy no matter who scored between Ireland and Bulgaria.

Louis didn't really care, but theoretically he would prefer Bulgaria to win, since Ireland had almost blown his grandfather to bits, and it was only thanks to his mother's timely arrival that the historical tragedy was averted.

While Luis was still in a daze, Ireland scored two more goals, their speed comparable to Mbappe's equalizer against Argentina—but clearly, they were in the lead.

"It's starting! It's starting!" Elizabeth shouted. "Louis, oh my god, stop looking at your Dragon Maid's ball and look at the chaser on the field!"

Louis was actually daydreaming; he was just spacing out somewhere. Hearing Elizabeth's shout, he turned his gaze to the field, searching for the two Seekers—and soon he saw them: Viktor Krum of Bulgaria and Aidan Lynch of Ireland, both rapidly descending between the Chasers—they were moving at incredible speed, like a Stuka diving down, almost letting out a whistling sound.

"Listen to me, Liz," Lewis said to Elizabeth, who was intently watching the two top Seekers, "You should equip your Firebolt with a special air whistle, like the Stuka's, to give them a little Slytherin shock when you dive for the ball..."

"Good suggestion, my cousin." Elizabeth commented objectively without even looking at him. "I think you're getting more and more eccentric, but this is a good suggestion. You can find this little accessory."

"No problem, my dear cousin," Louise replied with a smile.

He turned his gaze back to the field, where the two were about to collide with the ground. But at the last moment, Viktor Krum, just as he was about to hit the ground, suddenly flicked the broom head up and rose again, flying away in a whirlwind. Meanwhile, the honest Aidan Lynch, unable to dodge in time, fell to the ground with a thud, like a vicious dog snatching food.

A sigh of despair came from the Irish stands.

"That idiot," Elizabeth chuckled, "Krum was obviously faking it, how could he fool me? Seriously, how can just anyone represent the national team? I think England can't be like this for the next World Cup—I want to be England's finder!"

"I hope you can lead the struggling England team to the championship." Louis sighed. "This country, which has suffered so much, needs to add another star to its crest."

On the field, Mr. Bagman shouted for the game to be stopped, and well-trained doctors rushed onto the field with bottles and jars to check Aidan Lynch's injury.

"I hope he's alright, poor idiot," Elizabeth clicked her tongue loudly.

"He's fine, he just used too much force," Charlie replied, reassuring his sister Ginny. "He just used too much force. The safety measures at the facility are very good; it's unlikely that someone's head would be broken. Even at Hogwarts, the safety measures are quite good. That's how it was when I was a student there, if it's still properly maintained now."

"A very clever choice, this Bulgarian." Elizabeth clearly didn't remember Krum's name. "Lonski's feint was classic. The Bulgarian didn't even see the Golden Snitch. He was just deliberately luring the Irishman into the trap. Obviously, the Irish fool fell for it."

Elizabeth's sharp tongue is wasted if she doesn't become a commentator; perhaps she could be a guest commentator during Quidditch matches at Hogwarts.

Surrounded by doctors, Lin Qi was gulping down potions and slowly regaining his strength. Krum hovered above him, his dark eyes seemingly searching for the Golden Snitch.

Soon, Lin Qi got back into the game, and his Irish supporters cheered him on. After more than ten minutes of intense and exciting play, Ireland was now leading by a wide margin of 130-10.

Okay, at this stage of the match, things took a turn for the worse, somewhat resembling the Portugal vs. Netherlands match in 06. Instead of Quidditch, the two sides started playing martial arts.

In fact, physical strength is still the most important factor. When the Irish player was charging forward with the ball, she was tackled by the Bulgarian goalkeeper, who knocked her off the flying broomstick.

"Beep beep—" Mustafa's whistle blew, and he raised his hand to indicate a foul, giving Ireland the penalty kick.

In fact, it wasn't just the Bulgarian players who lacked sportsmanship; even their mascot couldn't resist joining in, starting a lively dance performance off the field. The poor referee hadn't even had time to designate the penalty spot before being bewitched by the Veeva.

(End of this chapter)