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Harry quickly focused his own. 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; Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word Firebolt on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs. And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa. A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernons, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, 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. Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls. Theeeeeeeeyre OFF. screamed Bagman. And its Mullet. Troy. Moran. Dimitrov. Back to Mullet. Troy. Levski. Moran. It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums. Hawkshead Attacking Formation, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Porskoff Ploy flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Morans path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - TROY SCORES. roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. Ten zero to Ireland. What. Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. But Levskis got the Quaffle. Harry, if youre not going to watch at normal speed, youre going to miss things. shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily. Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed. Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one anothers minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harrys chest kept squeaking their names: Troy - Mullet - Moran. And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirtyzero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters. The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as check this out at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgarias first goal. Fingers in your ears. bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle. Dimitrov. Levski. Dimitrov. Ivanova - oh I say. roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was - Theyre going to crash. screamed Hermione next to Harry. She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats. Fool. moaned Mr. Weasley. Krum was feinting. Its time-out. yelled Bagmans voice, as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch. Hell be okay, he only got ploughed. Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. Which is what Krum was after, of course. Harry hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes. He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. Wronski Defensive Feint - dangerous Seeker diversion read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. He saw Counter strike 1.6 cheat table face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood - Krum hadnt seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely upon Krums face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference. Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didnt catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafas long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been here foul. And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows. Bagman informed the roaring spectators. And - yes, its a penalty to Ireland. The leprechauns, who had risen Apex tyre and auto long jetty into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words HA, HA, HA. The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again. As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadnt bothered, was soon tugging on Harrys arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears. Look at the referee. she said, giggling. Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had click the following article right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly. Now, we cant have that. said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. Somebody slap the referee. A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous. And unless Im much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots. said Bagmans voice. Now theres something we havent seen before. Oh, this could turn nasty. It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words HEE, HEE, HEE. Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle. Two penalties for Ireland. shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms. yes. there they go. and Troy takes the Quaffle. Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom. Foul. roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. Foul. echoed Ludo Bagmans magically magnified voice. Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and its got to be another penalty - yes, theres the whistle. The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didnt look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders - And that, boys, yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, is why you should never go for looks alone. Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Harry turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet. Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES. But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov - The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krums nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didnt blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldnt blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight. Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same. Time-out. Ah, come on, he cant play like that, look at him - Look at Lynch. Harry yelled. For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing. Hes seen the Snitch. Harry shouted. Hes seen it. Look at him go. Half the believe, rust game meaning vr all seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on. but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again - Theyre going to crash. shrieked Hermione. Theyre not. roared Ron. Lynch is. yelled Harry. And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. The Snitch, wheres the Snitch. bellowed Charlie, along the row. Hes got it - Krums got it - its all over. shouted Harry. Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didnt seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight. IRELAND WINS. Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good lord, I dont think any of us were expecting that. What did he catch the Snitch for. Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot. He knew they were never going to catch up. Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. The Irish Chasers were too good. He wanted to end it on his terms, thats all. He was very brave, wasnt he. Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards read article a path through the baldurs gate halsin ii leprechauns and veela to get to him. He looks a terrible mess. Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His 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 Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. You can speak English. said Fudge, sounding outraged. And youve been letting me mime everything all day. Vell, it vos very funny, said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging. 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. Harrys eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone Apex tyre and auto long jetty the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, he 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 hed been using sign language all day for nothing. Link have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria. Bagman shouted. And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction. 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. Harry noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krums 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. Harrys hands were numb with clapping. 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 Connollys, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, Quietus. Theyll be talking about this one for years, he said hoarsely, a really unexpected twist, that. shame it couldnt have lasted longer. Ah yes. yes, I owe you. how much. For Fred and George 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. D CHAPTER NINE THE DARK MARK ont tell your mother youve been gambling, Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purplecarpeted stairs. Dont worry, Dad, said Fred gleefully, weve got big plans for this money. We dont want it confiscated. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didnt want to know. They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called steam zone game download on rust halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing link. Oh I am glad Im not on duty, muttered Mr. Weasley sleepily. I wouldnt fancy having to go and tell the Irish theyve got to stop celebrating. Harry, who was on a top bunk above Ron, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krums more spectacular moves. He was itching to get back on his own Firebolt and try out the Wronski Feint. Somehow Oliver Wood had never managed to convey with all his wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like. Harry saw himself in robes that had his name on the back, and imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Ludo Bagmans voice echoed throughout the stadium, I give you. Potter. Harry never knew whether or not he had actually dropped off to sleep - his fantasies of flying like Krum might well have slipped into actual dreams - all he knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley was shouting. Get up. Ron - Harry - come on now, get up, this is urgent. Harry sat up quickly and the top of his head hit canvas. S matter. he said. Dimly, he could tell that something was wrong.

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