Night fell. The tents in the campsite lit up, and the World Cup match was about to begin.
Charlie followed the Malfoy Family toward the stadium; their seats were in the top-tier box.
Harry and his friends went in a different direction because their seats were not together.
The top-tier box required a separate entrance, so Lucius led Charlie into a red-carpeted corridor.
Pushing open the door to the box, quite a few people were already seated inside.
Lucius took Charlie around the box and introduced him to a bunch of Ministry of Magic officials.
Department heads, office directors, section chiefs—Charlie remembered a few, but let the rest be.
After dealing with these people, Charlie sat down next to Lucius.
Draco followed closely and sat on Charlie's other side, introducing the two teams playing.
"That's the Bulgarian team over there. The Seeker is Viktor Krum, the youngest professional Seeker."
"Honestly, I think I'm better than him. It's just that I'm still in school; otherwise, he wouldn't even have a spot."
Charlie glanced at Draco.
"Brother, it's fine to fool your buddies, but don't fool yourself."
Draco continued to introduce.
"The other side is the Irish team. They don't have any star players, but their overall coordination is very strong."
Draco got more and more excited as he spoke, then suddenly turned to look at Charlie.
"Charlie, want to make a bet?"
Charlie raised an eyebrow: "Bet on what?"
"Bet on which team wins," Draco said confidently.
"I bet on Bulgaria. With Krum there, they'll definitely win."
Since he was free anyway, Charlie agreed.
"Fine, then I'll bet on Ireland."
"How much?"
"Ten Galleons."
It wasn't much, but it wasn't little either. For Draco, it was pocket money; for Charlie, it was just a bit of fun.
The seats in the box were indeed good; the view was wide, and they could see the entire stadium.
Charlie looked down; the stands were packed with one hundred thousand people, a sea of black, with cheers rising one after another.
The Bulgarian team entered first, and their mascots flew into the field behind them.
They were a group of women, with enchanting figures and long, flowing hair, dancing in the air.
All the male Wizards in the stadium instantly went wild; screams and whistles rang out everywhere.
"Those are Veela," Draco said.
"They are born with the ability to make men fall into a state of obsession. However, there is a magic shield in this box, so we won't be affected."
Charlie glanced at the officials around him; they were indeed all very calm.
Come to think of it, if Fudge looked at the Veela with a lecherous expression, his time as Minister would be over.
But the Veela were all so beautiful; if one could keep a group in a trunk and listen to music with them when bored, that would truly be a wonderful thing.
Charlie stroked his chin, pondering the feasibility of this matter.
The Irish team's mascots appeared next; a group of leprechauns flew into the stadium and scattered gold coins toward the audience.
The gold coins glittered in the light, and the audience scrambled to grab them.
"Those are fake," Draco curled his lip.
"Leprechaun gold disappears after a few hours."
The match officially began.
Although Bulgaria had the star player Krum, the others were clearly not a match for the Irish team.
The Irish Chasers coordinated well, constantly tearing through Bulgaria's defense.
The Quaffle went through the goal posts time and again, and the numbers on the scoreboard jumped rapidly.
The Irish team even had the energy to interfere with Krum, preventing him from focusing on searching for the golden snitch.
"Come on, Krum, it's all up to you!" Draco stared at the situation on the field.
But the score gap kept widening.
The Irish audience cheered wildly, while the Bulgarian supporters grew increasingly silent.
Suddenly, the whole stadium erupted in screams.
They saw Krum diving toward the ground. His speed was extremely fast, his broom almost leaving an afterimage. A Bludger smashed in from the side; Krum didn't dodge, letting it hit his shoulder.
His body tilted in the air, but his arm was stretched forward firmly.
A golden light flickered at his fingertips.
Bulgaria successfully caught the golden snitch, but the scoreboard showed: Bulgaria 160 points, Ireland 170 points.
Ireland won.
"Damn it! The others on Bulgaria are too trash!" Draco gnashed his teeth in anger.
There was no help for it; Ireland's advantage was simply too great. Even with the 150 points from the golden snitch, they were still behind.
But the entire audience stood up and applauded Krum.
Including those Irish supporters.
In sports, respect is given to every athlete who fights until the very last moment.
Draco very unhappily took ten Galleons out of his pocket and slapped them into Charlie's hand one by one.
"Take it," Draco's voice was full of reluctance.
Charlie smiled and accepted it, weighing them in his hand, in a great mood.
The cheers of the whole stadium continued, yet Charlie noticed that the expression on Lucius's face suddenly changed.
That usually arrogant and elegant face turned pale, and a trace of panic flashed in his eyes.
His gaze swept across the box, as if confirming some important matter.
"Mr. Malfoy, are you feeling unwell?" Charlie turned his head to ask.
Lucius took a deep breath and quickly regained his calm expression.
"No, it's nothing. Just surprised by the result of the match."
But his trembling fingertips as he spoke betrayed him.
Charlie didn't press for details; who doesn't have a secret?
Everyone began to leave the box in an orderly fashion.
One hundred thousand Wizards flooded back to the campsite; everywhere was full of Ireland's green fireworks and singing.
Charlie planned to go find Hermione; it would be a pity not to join in the fun on such a lively occasion.
"Charlie, come back to the tent with us," Lucius suddenly spoke, inviting him sincerely.
"No, I want to play outside for a bit. You guys go back."
"Charlie, please be sure to come back to the tent with us."
Charlie stopped walking and turned to look at him.
Lucius's expression was very serious, one could even say grave.
Draco was also standing by his father's side, his eyes filled with confusion; clearly, he didn't understand why his father was saying this.
"What's the reason?" Charlie asked.
Lucius was silent for a moment. He looked at the crowd around him and lowered his voice to say:
"Some dangerous things will happen tonight."
"But our tent is absolutely safe," Lucius continued.
"Believe me, Charlie. You are my most important business partner, and I don't want you to have any accidents."
Ever since the two signed the contract, Charlie was responsible for brewing Potions, and Lucius was responsible for selling them. Over the past two years, the Malfoy Family had made a lot of money, so he naturally didn't want Charlie to have any mishaps.
But just when the match ended, his arm began to burn.
That burning sensation was very familiar, coming from the dark mark on the inside of his left arm.
A feeling he hadn't had in years was now clearly conveying a message—the Dark Lord was summoning his followers.
Lucius couldn't sit still at that moment.
The Dark Lord had returned; there would definitely be a big move tonight.
Lucius knew the Dark Lord's style of operation; the announcement of his return would definitely be accompanied by crazy destruction and slaughter.
And as a former core member, he had to participate, otherwise the consequences would be unimaginable.
If Charlie stayed outside wandering around, he would very likely run into the Death Eaters' operations.
Only the area around the Malfoy Family tent, which was basically all major Pure-blood Family tents, would be safe tonight.
Charlie frowned and asked.
"What danger?"
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