Flickering Lamplight

The stadium, which had been bustling all night, was now Silencio so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The 100,000 spectators stared blankly at the golden light that represented 150 points, speechless for a moment.

Krum flew lightly through the air, specks of blood Scabbers from the corner of his mouth, landing on his bright red Bulgaria robe and disappearing silently. He had been hit by the Ireland Beater during his sprint.

He raised his right fist high, and a faint but awe-inspiring golden light flowed from between his fingers.

The scoreboard floating in mid-air was so bright it hurt your eyes.

Bulgaria: 160

Ireland: 170

Loren raised his camera, focused for a moment, and the images of "the Seeker covered in blood, holding a golden ball," "the silent stands," and "the scoreboard that occupied half the sky" converged, freezing the moment in time.

Click.

The sound of the camera seemed to trigger a switch, breaking the silence. Thunderous cheers swept from the stands throughout the stadium, growing louder and louder until they were deafening. Everyone in the stadium could feel the space trembling, and countless joyful shouts almost lifted the stadium off its feet.

Bagman shouted at the top of his lungs, "Ladies and gentlemen, let us congratulate tonight's champions! The Ireland National Team!"

"Ireland!"

"Ireland!"

"He caught it! Krum caught it! The match is over!"

Harry's cheeks flushed with excitement; Krum's brilliant performance had him on the edge of his seat.

"Ireland team has won..." Ron said with a gloomy expression. "Krum ended the game because he knew they could never catch up."

Not far away, the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic heard their conversation and sighed heavily, "I must say, we fought very bravely."

"Yes—" Fudge, who had been nodding in agreement, froze, then turned to look at him incredulously. "You, you can speak English?"

"Oh, yes." The Bulgarian Ministry of Magic smiled.

Fudge gritted his teeth in anger and raised his voice, shouting, "But you've made me stand here gesturing all day!"

The Bulgaria minister shrugged. "I thought you liked communicating in sign language, wasn't that interesting?"

"You--"

"Minister, the trophy has been brought up. You should go up on stage to present the award."

A Ministry of Magic employee whispered to Fudge.

Frustration and anger churned within Fudge. He glared at the Bulgaria minister, panting heavily, and forced a kind smile before walking toward the stage under the lights.

The speed at which the face was swapped made Loren exclaim in admiration, "Minister Fudge is quite a respectable man."

Arthur nodded in agreement.

Molly:...

She probably knew why her husband hadn't been promoted in decades.

Molly stood up and called to the family, "Let's go, dear children, it's time to go back to camp."

"Oh, can't we stay a little longer..." Ron looked reluctantly at the handful of gold coins scattered by the Irish Leprechaun. Although he knew they were fake, it was still nice to look at them a few more times.

"Yes, yes, it's not over yet, Mom!"

Ginny clung tightly to Harry's arm, her eyes sparkling.

Harry looked longingly at Krum, who was still immersed in the disappointment of losing the game, in the Bulgarian Rest Area.

Loren glanced at the scene outside the stands. Fudge was giving a long, polite speech, but nobody cared. The Ireland team players received the trophy and rose into the sky, flying around the field on broomsticks, enjoying the cheers of the fans...

It seems too early to define discrete fields.

Molly smiled and tapped Ginny's forehead, "It'll be too late once the show's over. Look at how many people are here; you can imagine how chaotic it'll be later."

"Okay, Mom..." Ginny sighed sadly.

After packing their things, they followed Molly out of the private room and down the stairs covered with Purple-red Carpet. Just before leaving the room, Loren looked back and saw the House-elf Winky still with her head buried in her hands, Bertha Jokins humming a tune, and the wizard hidden under the Invisibility Cloak intently watching the scoreboard with a smile on his lips.

"Oh, that was fantastic... I'm absolutely certain this match will be talked about for years to come," Arthur muttered to himself.

"Yes..." Bagman said in a hoarse voice, his expression blank and looking extremely tired, completely unlike his energetic self during the day. "It's truly an unexpected turn of events..."

George and Fred huddled around Charlie, who was supporting Bulgaria, waving their hands and cheering with winks and exaggerated gestures.

"Krum! Krum!"

"Krum! Krum!"

"..."

Charlie couldn't help but keep his distance from his two younger brothers.

"That Lansky feint just now is definitely going to be in the top ten of the year!" Ron kept muttering. "Krum wasn't just an athlete, he was an artist..."

Ginny pulled Harry aside and whispered, "I think he's fallen for Krum."

Harry was looking down at his Telescope, replaying Lansky feint, when he heard this and couldn't help but laugh, completely unaware that Ginny had been tugging at his arm the whole time.

As they walked out of the stadium, they could still faintly hear the cheers behind them. The forest was shrouded in mist, gray and cool in the dead of night... They walked towards the campsite, their footsteps echoing softly on the loose soil.

This Quidditch World Cup didn't seem to end perfectly, but the competition's over, so what other problems could possibly arise...?

Loren unconsciously fiddled with the camera hanging around his neck, his thumb rubbing the few photos he had, feeling the marks left by the Developing Potion after it dried.

"..."

Hermione pursed her lips and silently watched as the man gently stroked the photo of himself looking foolish and embarrassed, touching it all the way.

We need to find a way to get the photos.

No, we need to find a way to get the camera.

Ireland green ribbons fluttered throughout the stadium. Compared to the lively and jubilant scene of the winning team, the atmosphere was much quieter for the losing Bulgaria team. Viktor Krum, with his gloomy face and silent expression, made the atmosphere even more somber.

The Healer surrounding him didn't dare to speak, and left after quickly examining his injuries.

His teammates and coaches looked at his face, wanting to say something but not daring to. Shame and self-blame slowly filled their hearts, so they could only remain silent.

After all, they were the ones who dragged Krum down. If they hadn't fallen so far behind, Krum could have won the game on his own.

Looking at his teammates' shifty eyes, Krum sighed inwardly. This was how the rumors of his unpredictable mood swings and volatile temper had started.

Actually, he didn't blame these people. Bulgaria is just a small country with a small number of wizards, and wizards who love and are good at Quidditch are even rarer. It's already very rare that they were able to put together a team and defeat many countries to reach the finals.

Besides, they hadn't had enough training time, especially since he was still studying at Durmstrang... He was still young, and he was certain that he would win the Quidditch World Cup before he died; this was just an ordinary defeat.

Krum was silent for a moment, then quickened his pace and left the field.

The rest of the team, including the coach, breathed a sigh of relief, "Don't stand here anymore. I have some aged malt whisky in my tent. Anyone want to try some?"

The players exchanged glances, cheered, and swarmed around their coach as they ran forward.

"By the way, the Veela are still in the lounge. Should we invite them?"

"Do you want to run around the campsite naked?"

"Of course not!"

"Then stay away from them! The minister will take care of them!"

In the lounge, the chandelier hung straight down from the ceiling, hovering over the rows of Veela. The low light cast shadows that stretched in all directions, with the outermost shadows extending onto the walls, long and narrow like the claws of a monster.

They choose who to devour.

A chilling whisper echoed in the room:

"Look at that ridiculous green, look at those ugly Leprechaun... The Ireland they support has actually defeated the Bulgaria you support..."

"How ridiculous, how absurd..."

As the whispers echoed, a hint of anger appeared on the Veela's bewildered faces, and hoarse, inhuman breaths rose and fell—sounds that no human throat could possibly produce.

"Hehehe..."

The chilling chuckle continued for a while, "You should be angry, you should show people what anger is... all it takes is a tiny bit of help..."

Thick black fog quietly spread, slowly filling the entire room.

"Go, ignite the flames of anger, and turn everything into burning firewood!"

The Veela's pretty faces began to elongate, their sharp beaks appearing and disappearing, and pairs of scaled wings drooped down, with strange fluctuations flowing from the scales, carrying a mesmerizing Magic Power.

The sound of flapping wings rang out, and the claws and fangs hidden in the shadows, ready to devour their prey, sprang into action.

The lights in the Forest Arena were still bright and dazzling, but the players had already left the field, and the spectators were flowing out of the arena like a stream. The Ministry of Magic officials who were not on duty had left early, leaving only a few people to maintain order.

Barty Crouch climbed the stairs covered with Purple-red Carpet and talked with the Irish Ministry of Magic for several hours. The deserted stadium, now empty, actually made him feel more at ease.

There aren't many people around now, so it will be more convenient to bring my son down later.

With that thought in mind, Barty Crouch quickened his pace and made his way to the top-floor suite.

Hearing footsteps, Winky, who had been covering her face, lowered her hands, her face full of joy. "Master, you're finally back!"

Bertha Jokins stopped humming and looked at her former boss, Mr. Crouch. Barty Crouch, with a puzzled expression, her brows gradually furrowing.

Why am I here? Why is Mr. Crouch. Barty Crouch only arriving now? And... where am I?

Seeing that the VIP box was empty and that neither Winky nor Jokins seemed to be acting strangely, Crouch breathed a sigh of relief and walked over, "Bertha, thank you for maintaining order here. The Quidditch World Cup is over, go back and rest."

Jokins's eyes widened slightly. So this was the Quidditch World Cup stadium, and she was here to maintain order.

Crouch smiled. "I'll apply for an award for you, to your current boss Ludo. Go back and get some rest."

"Thank you, Mr. Crouch." Jokins smiled, rose from the box, and the light footsteps as she went downstairs revealed her pleasure.

Crouch's face darkened as he glanced at the empty spot next to Winky: "Let's go back to camp."

"Yes, Master!" Winky leaped up, one hand hovering in mid-air as if dragging something unseen. "You don't know, Master Barty was very well-behaved all night. He's a good boy..."

To avoid the crowds, Crouch led Winky along a side path.

Braving the thick fog, Crouch hurried along until he entered the tent and lowered the curtain that could block his view and block out the sound. He leaned back on the single sofa, breathed a sigh of relief, and rubbed his temples wearily.

"Don't remove the Invisibility Cloak. Before dawn, take him deep into the swamp and go from there."

"Master, I can take Master Barty home right now."

"The Department of Magical Transportation oversees all spatial magic, and even if you are House-elf, you will be detected."

"Understood, Master."

How could a foolish House-elf offer advice to its master...? A look of self-reproach flashed across Winky's eyes, and she clenched her fist and gave herself a slap.

Suddenly, a clumsy figure burst in. "Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch!"

Crouch glared at him, his face contorted with rage. "Jokins?"

"Mr. Crouch, a huge mess! The Veela and a bunch of wizards are causing trouble in the camp, wizards from many countries!" Jokins cried out in a panic. "Minister Fudge sent me to get you!"

Crouch's face was cold and hard. He stood up, gave Winky a look, and walked straight out of the tent.

Jokins staggered after him.

"There's one more thing, Mr. Crouch, I think I left my wand in the box..."

"The lost and found will return it to you. Take care of things at the camp first."

"Yes, sir..."

Their pace wasn't slow, but those who left the stadium to return to the camp later no longer followed the rules as they had on the way there. Some wizards rode brooms straight to the camp, while others cast Levitation Charm on their clothes, swaying and floating towards the camp...

The surging crowd quickly surrounded them, and everyone could only huddle together, walking back in the direction illuminated by the lanterns. Everywhere there were rough, loud songs, and Leprechaun darted and flew through the forest, cawing and laughing.

Nobody wanted to sleep. The excitement and merriment George and Fred had brought from the gymnasium hadn't cooled down yet. Charlie's embarrassed expression only made them happier, and they became even more enthusiastic, emphasizing the name of Joyful Krum in front of him with Yodl.

It must be said that their voices are quite pleasant when they're not singing Funeral March, which explains why they were able to lead the singing at the Hogwarts opening dinner.

Having just learned how to use it from Hermione, Arthur took out a windproof match, pressed the match head against the red phosphorus strip on the box, pressed it firmly with his finger, and with a light flick, the orange flame ignited.

Arthur happily lit the Oil Lamp, then reluctantly blew out the matches, carefully putting the remaining matches into the box.

Although the match head had already been used, this was the first match he had lit, and he wanted to take it home and keep it as a keepsake.

Molly, who witnessed the whole thing:...

Molly reached out and grabbed Ginny, whose face was flushed and who was excitedly running around, and hugged her tightly, while calling out to the others, "Hey, kids, darlings!"

George and Fred stopped singing their yodeling, and everyone else stopped to look at Mrs. Weasley.

"Today's over! Go to sleep now, we'll get up early tomorrow to go home, and we can still make it to Diagon Alley in the afternoon to buy the things you'll need for next semester..."

Molly's voice was drowned out by a commotion outside the tent. There was a chaotic buzzing, screams mixed with footsteps, strange thuds and shrill laughter. It sounded like all sorts of people were involved, making it hard to stay awake.

Hermione listened intently for a while, but couldn't make out anything. She guessed, "Are the Ireland celebrating their victory?"

Arthur listened suspiciously, then stepped out of the tent to investigate.

Loren looked intently at the newly lit Oil Lamp, its flame flickering and its shadow swaying.

Is it over?

No, it's just the beginning.