𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞┃𝙁𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙒𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮

Chapter 39: Mayhem at the Quidditch Cup

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Rubi realized that it was actually composed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Arthur, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

Rubi excitedly also tried to catch as many as she could, a delighted expression on her face, one that made Fred watch her and smile. The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. "Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!" Seven green blurs swept onto the field. "And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!" A small and skinny wizard, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

The rest of the match passed by in a blast, and Rubi had never been happier or fascinated, like this. In the end, Krum caught the Golden Snitch; however, due to the score, Ireland won the match. Fred and George had won their bet with Ludo Bagman, about which they were excited about, and Rubi couldn't help but applaud their guess, since she could never have guessed it herself.

Back in the tent, it was a fun atmosphere singing to "Viktor, I love you, Viktor I do!" due to Ron's obsession with the athlete before they went to bed. However Rubi felt as if she had just closed her eyes, when she was being shaken awake.

"Rubi, wake up. Come on, Ginny, Hermione!"

Rubi sat up, squinting. "What's happening?" But as soon as she asked, the noise from outside seemed to register.

"No time to explain, come on girls!" Arthur said and ushered them out.

Grabbing a leather jacket that had once belonged to her mother, Rubi along with the other two girls headed out. There was total chaos. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Arthur shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!" Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Arthur tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.