"A reward?"
Hearing Vivi say that, Harry didn't know whether he should be looking forward to it or running for his life.
After all, last time he got a "reward," Vivi had messed his mouth up till it looked like a sausage.
If it happened again, he'd better take a good look in the mirror before going out.
When he turned back again, he saw Ron already standing by the railing, poised like he was about to dive off a springboard, and he looked just about ready to plunge headfirst down.
Hermione was livid, her small chest heaving violently, muttering "How dare he, how dare he" over and over under her breath.
The stadium was full of furious shouts; people didn't want the Enchantresses to leave.
After all, a hundred Enchantresses dancing together in the middle of the pitch, striking all kinds of seductive poses—that kind of stunning scene wasn't something you could see every day.
"You need to rein it in a bit." The Weasley Twins grabbed their now-brain-dead little brother Ron, one on each side.
But Ron turned a deaf ear; in a daze, he was busy ripping the shamrock off his hat.
Mr. Weasley leaned over with a smile and snatched the hat out of Ron's hands.
"You'll be needing that," Mr. Weasley said, "when Ireland Team finish their performance in a bit."
"Mm?" Ron grunted, but he still stared slack-jawed at the Enchantresses, who had now lined up along one side of the pitch.
"Stop looking." Hermione let out a loud cough. "They've already gone—Ronald!"
Ron gave Hermione a very Sigma sort of glance over his shoulder, then went right back to using his binoculars to sneak another look at the Enchantresses.
"Your little friend…" Vivi pressed her lips together and murmured, "seems to have quite a spine—that's really not very common."
"Yeah?" Harry looked up, glanced blankly at Ron, and said, puzzled, "Honestly, I don't see what's so great about Enchantresses. They're just creatures that happen to be a bit prettier, aren't they?"
"Oh? You can resist an Enchantress's temptation?" Vivi tilted her head and asked.
"Oh, you definitely can't," Cassandra shot back at high speed, dripping with sarcasm. "Remember what your brother called Harry? Scarhead Enchantress…"
That line didn't catch Vivi's attention at all; instead, what hooked her was that unusual form of address—
"So, the relationship between you two is already close enough that you're on a first-name basis?" Vivi teased, looking at Cassandra. "Or is it that when I wasn't around, you secretly did something to Harry that made your relationship heat up all of a sudden?"
"Slip of the tongue." Cassandra's face went cold. "Don't get the wrong idea, Grindelwald—I have no designs on your little boyfriend."
"Oh, really." Vivi suddenly leaned in close to Cassandra's ear and whispered, "Then… calling me 'Master' is fine too, right?"
Cassandra's expression was like a pot coming to the boil, flushing an intense, fiery red.
"That's brilliant!"
Ron suddenly bellowed, drawing their attention.
They looked up; at some point, a huge, dazzling shamrock had risen high into the air and begun circling above the stands.
Something was pattering down from it, crackling as it fell, like golden raindrops.
"Little Goblins."
Cassandra picked up a shiny Gold Coin from her thigh and changed the subject. "These Gold Coins… tsk."
"Little Goblins?"
Ron looked up blankly, still clutching several Gold Coins in his hand.
"Little Goblins, sometimes also called Clauricorn, are a kind of very mischievous Magical Creature." Hermione rolled her eyes and gave Ron a lecture. "This is what you get for never studying; I really don't know what to do with you—Little Goblins can grow to six inches tall, they're completely green, and wear simple clothes made of leaves. They feed on plant leaves. Little Goblins are smarter than fairies, and kinder than little Devils, Little Elves, and fox spirits. Even though Little Goblins love playing tricks, they've never done anything that causes humans any long-term harm."
When Hermione finished her little lecture, Cassandra reminded him, "I suggest you throw those Gold Coins away and don't do anything pointlessly stupid, Weasley."
"Why?" Ron still hadn't stopped stuffing Gold Coins into his pockets.
Hermione sighed.
"Little Goblins can produce a substance very similar to gold, but it disappears after a few hours, which greatly amuses them—those Gold Coins will almost certainly vanish after the match is over."
Hearing Hermione's words, the Grangers—who had been bending over to pick up Gold Coins—immediately sat up straight and quietly wedged the coins they'd picked up into the gap between the seats beside them.
Ron glanced at the Gold Coins in his hand and finally tossed them aside.
Forget it, there was no point in picking this stuff up if it was going to disappear anyway.
While they were talking, the giant shamrock faded away, and the Little Goblins slowly drifted down to the pitch, coming to rest cross-legged opposite the Enchantresses, ready to watch the match.
Harry raised his binoculars to his eyes as well, planning to check out what was happening down on the pitch.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to—the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! Let me introduce—Dimitrov!"
A figure in red robes on a Flying Broom shot into the stadium from one of the entrances below. He was flying so fast he was little more than a blur, and he drew wild cheers from the Bulgaria Team supporters.
"Ivanova!"
The second figure in bright red robes whooshed out.
"Zograf! Levsky! Vokanov! Volkov! And next—Krum!"