{18th of August, 1994}
"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"
"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Draco bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland was a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"
"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Archie shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good."
"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Granger said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of medi wizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess. . . ."
"He kinda looks like me when I wake up in the morning," Cassiopeia commented, glancing at Krum.
Krum's team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.
"Vell, 've fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Cassie. She looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.
"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"
"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, grinning at Cassiopeia.
"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.
Cassie's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, she saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.
"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.
"Come on Draco, clap for your team; the losing team!" mocked Cassiopeia
"Oh shut Peia"
And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively;
One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Everyone noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.
And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval.
At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a be- mused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."
"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that. . . . shame it couldn't have lasted longer. . . . Ah yes. . . . yes, I owe you . . . how much?"
The twins had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.
Words:692
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