𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 || Fred Weasley

23

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

It was Quidditch as Cassie had never seen it played before. 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.

Cassie opened her notebook, taking notes. Before term had ended, Madam Hooch had offered her the team captain position and she took it gratefully.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION — 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 at a passing Bludger with his club, knocking it into Moran's path. Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it. "Ten-zero to Ireland!"

Troy did a lap of honor around the field. Draco was cheering. Cassie rolled her eyes and looked back at the pitch. They had a bet going on. Draco believed Bulgaria was going to win, but Cassie thought Ireland would win.

Within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero. Cassie cheered loudly, purposefully into Draco's ear.

The match became faster but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"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.

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.

"Ouch!" Cassie commented. "That sounds like it hurt."

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

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. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action.

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. Cassie didn't catch what happened, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told her it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And — yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

"What's he doing?" Cassie heard her mother say.

Cassie looked down at the field. Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela and was acting very odd. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself. Watching through omnioculars, she saw that he looked embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing.