No, Bro

The Twins took Charlie's words to heart; they knew exactly how much their mother hated them for developing Weasley magical tricks.

So the two of them decided in an instant that they absolutely could not let their mother see them developing these things. If they burned all those little gadgets and lost all the orders, they would be doomed.

"So who do you think will win the championship?" Charlie asked again. "Ireland? Or Bulgaria? I know that Bulgaria Seeker is really good, Viktor Krum, right? Ron still has his poster on his bedside table."

Ron didn't feel embarrassed at all, after all, that was his idol.

"Then let me ask you," Fred said, his eyes darting around, a plan forming in his mind. He began to tease Ron, "Do you think Harry or Viktor Krum is better as the Seeker?"

Ron:?

No, buddy?

This question really stumped Ron. Actually, in Ron's eyes, Harry was also an extremely good Seeker.

"That's a tough question to answer." Ron's brain started racing, displaying an unusually high emotional intelligence. "If I had to say, I actually prefer Harry, both as a friend and as Gryffindor —besides, they've never really fought each other, have they?"

"Speaking of which," Charlie suddenly said, "I once received letters from Professor McGonagall and Wood, and they both praised Harry —I've never seen Professor McGonagall praise a student like that before... Oh, I think back when I was at school, Professor McGonagall would occasionally praise Harry's father, saying he was an excellent Chaser."

"After all, a son resembles his father," Harry said with a smile.

"What are you guys talking about here?"

Mrs. Weasley finally approached, her face stern as she glared at the Weasley twins: "Were you talking about your grand schemes again? I'm warning you, George! Fred! You two are forbidden from engaging in any more of those Weasley magical tricks! Do you hear me?!"

When she said the names, Mrs. Weasley pointed to her two sons with her fingers.

"We know, Mom," Fred and George said in unison. "But it really hurts us that I am Fred and he is George —it's so sad that even Mom can't tell the difference."

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dears," Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Just kidding, Mom," Fred and George said, putting their hands on each other's shoulders and laughing. "Actually, you were right—"

Enraged, Mrs. Weasley grabbed a baguette from the table and started hitting the Twins, who cried out in pain.

Mrs. Weasley cooked dinner, though she didn't quite trust Kritcher, given Kritcher advanced age and somewhat unkempt appearance.

Of course, Mrs. Weasley enjoyed cooking for her family.

The main reason was that Kritcher was holding Regulus's hand, and Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but think that it was unreliable to take an Inferi to cook.

What if drool gets into the food? Wouldn't that be disgusting?

"Try it, your favorite beef stew with potatoes." Mrs. Weasley slammed a large bowl down on the table with a smile, then pressed her hands against Harry's face. "Eat more, eat more."

"This beef and potato stew is good for you!" Ron said to Harry with a wink, reaching for the spoon and filling half a plate for Harry.

Harry picked up the bread next to him and started eating the beef stew with potatoes from the bowl. It tasted absolutely delicious.

Cassandra frowned slightly, but said nothing.

This guy...

That's so rude!

"We'll rest here for the night," said Mr. Weasley. "The next day, we'll take a carriage to the Quidditch Match field—"

"A carriage?" Bill looked up, flicking his ponytail. "Shouldn't we be looking for a Portkey made of some unknown material, then grab it together, and whoosh—"

"Oh, that was many years ago," Mr. Weasley chuckled and said to Bill, "Now we're different, so of course we need some new ways to travel—well, this isn't a rented carriage, my dear."

The following words were spoken to Molly.

"Ludo Bagman specially granted us this privilege; it's a special perk for VIPs in the box," Mr. Weasley said with a chuckle, his forehead practically gleaming. "Of course, everyone else has to go through the traditional route—no crowding, no drawing too much attention, and absolutely no attracting the attention of Muggle, otherwise we'll have to go through the trouble of having their memories erased..."

"Why? Don't we have the Muggle Repelling Charm?" Hermione asked curiously, biting into her bread. She didn't quite understand why they would do this if the Muggle Repelling Charm existed.

"Organization is proving incredibly difficult," Mr. Weasley sighed. "The main problem is that there are about 100,000 wizards coming to watch the World Cup, and we certainly can't find a magical venue that can hold that many people. There are places that Muggle can't get into, but imagine how we could possibly cram 100,000 wizards into Diagon Alley? Even with the Muggle Repelling Charm, it would be far too conspicuous for over 100,000 people to pass through the Leaky Cauldron in such a short time."

"First, of course, we must stagger everyone's arrival times. Those with cheaper tickets will have to arrive two weeks in advance. Some will use Muggle transportation, but the number is limited. We can't let too many people crammed into Muggle buses and trains—don't forget, wizards from all over the world are coming. Of course, some will use Apparition, but we must designate safe places for them to Apparate, away from all the Muggle."

"I think there's probably a forest nearby that could be used as a landing spot for Apparition," Bill said, making a not-so-cringeworthy joke.

"Oh, of course, there are indeed forests there."

Mr. Weasley chuckled and said that, after all, he had actually gone to see the venue beforehand.

"For those who are unwilling or unable to Apparition, we use Portkey —these things are used to transport wizards from one place to another within a set time, and can transport a large number of people at once if needed—if I remember correctly, the Ministry of Magic has deployed about two hundred Portkey throughout Britain."

"But we don't need that stuff now, right?" the Twins asked in unison.

"Oh, of course." Mr. Weasley patted his belly. "Oh, right, I still have to pick up Granger and the others— Hermione? You call your father first, I'll drive over and pick them up."

"A car?" Sirius's interest was piqued. "You've never told me you had a car, Arthur— "

"It's not too late yet," Mr. Weasley said to him. "It's not too late to know now."

"Oh, it's that Ford Anglia." Charlie swallowed the bread and said to Sirius, "When Dad was modifying this car, Mom gave him a good scolding—but in the end, she couldn't stop him from modifying it."

"Yeah, I even got pecked by those two startled chickens," Bill said nostalgically.

Everyone laughed when they heard Bill's words.

"Well then, let's head out to pick them up after we finish eating," Mr. Weasley said. "Sirius will come with me... but the car is still at home. We'll have to use Floo Powder to get it from home first."

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley roared, "Are you going to drive that car around causing trouble again?!"

"Oh no, dear," said Mr. Weasley, "We're going to pick up the Granger family, so they don't get lost..."

That's a good reason; at least Mrs. Weasley didn't try to stop him anymore.

After dinner, Sirius and Mr. Weasley set off together to pick up Mr. Granger.

"You know what?" Mr. Weasley said to Sirius as he stepped into the fireplace, "I know Mr. Granger's Bentley is very expensive, but he said he'd trade ten Bentley for my car—"

"That's true. You can't buy a flying car anywhere for Muggle," Sirius said seriously.

After they left, the boys gathered together to play cards, while Hermione sat to the side, seemingly engrossed in her thesis.

Cassandra sat behind Harry, watching them play cards.

They were playing Texas Hold'em, but instead of betting money, they were putting stickers on their faces.

Around seven or eight o'clock in the evening, the roar of engines began to sound outside.

A moment later, the door opened, and the Granger family and Mr. Weasley walked in.

Mr. Granger seemed quite excited, gesturing and describing what he had just seen and heard to Mr. Weasley.

"This is absolutely amazing!" Mr. Granger exclaimed happily. "I've never had such a novel experience before; I feel so much younger!"

"This is magic, isn't it amazing?" Sirius said with a smile as he closed the door.

"Ugh!"

The Mrs. Black's portrait, who had been disturbed, coughed unhappily. After seeing Mr. Granger. and Mrs. Granger. Granger, she muttered something, turned over, and went back to sleep.

It was only because of Potter's influence that this happened; otherwise, there would have been another argument.

"Is this a portrait? Or a television?" Mr. Granger stared in astonishment at the animated, talking portrait, and asked in surprise, "It looks so realistic..."

"No, that's a portrait of my mother," Sirius replied casually.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mr. Granger quickly apologized. "I really didn't know that was your—uh, mother."

"It's okay," Sirius shrugged. "I didn't know she was my mother."

Mr. Granger thought this was just a kind of humor unique to wizards.

When they entered the Living Room, they saw the children with notes stuck to their faces.

Seeing her parents walk in, Hermione screamed, shoved the Poker Cards in her hand into the deck, and ran away.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Weasley asked in astonishment.

"Black family specialty." Bill casually put down the cards, turned around, and said, "Treatment for dry skin—want to try it, Dad?"

"Oh, then I'd rather not," Mr. Weasley said politely.

"I think it's pretty good," Fred said with a grin, hooking his arm around George's neck. "Since we're just killing time anyway, how about we play some cards? What do you guys think?"

"It seems your views are quite healthy, at least they don't involve money." Mr. Weasley smiled, then turned to Sirius and said, "We need to get them both a room—"

"Don't worry, there are plenty of empty rooms." Sirius chuckled and snapped his fingers. "Kritcher!"

Kritcher appeared like a whirlwind, holding Regulus by the hand.

Upon seeing the person in front of him, Regulus roared and lunged at Mr. Granger.

"Jesus Holy FXXK! (Jesus Holy FXXK!)"

Mr. Granger suddenly jumped back; Regulus's appearance had truly frightened him.

How can this place be so audacious, actually raising zombies?

"Kritcher!" Sirius shouted, "Lock Regulus back in!"

Kritcher muttered to himself, telling Young Master Regulus to bask in the moonlight longer, but he didn't disobey Sirius's orders and sent Regulus back to his room.

"Please excuse me." Sirius turned to the still-shaken Mr. and Mrs. Granger and apologized, "I'm sorry, Regulus is my brother, and he ended up like this for some reason—I'm sorry to have frightened you."

"It's alright." Mr. Granger swallowed hard. "Our room—"

"Oh, it's far from them," Sirius said with a laugh. "It's right next to Hermione's house. I've got everything ready for you."

Hearing this, Mr. Granger was finally relieved.

That evening, they stayed at Black family home.

The next morning, they got up very early.

As VIPs, they do not need to arrive at the venue in advance, so they can leave after having lunch.

"This is my first time attending such a grand event in the Magical World," Mr. Granger said, sounding somewhat excited. "It's like being in Diagon Alley, isn't it?"

"No, if I had to make an analogy..." Sirius described it, "It's like the World Cup football match, um..."

"Oh!" Mr. Granger clapped his hands. "I even went to the America for this year's World Cup."

"Really?" Harry asked, yawning. "Then who won?"

"Brazil," Mr. Granger said. "They went into extra time and it was still a draw, but Brazil eventually beat Italy 3-2 on penalties to win the championship—it should be admitted that South America football is really strong."

At this point, Mr. Granger added with some regret, "What I didn't expect was that Roberto Baggio missed the penalty; I thought he was going to score..."

(End of this chapter)