"Ireland kicks ass!" Flanders and George linked arms and danced inside the tent.
In the match that day, Ireland had fought a fierce battle and ultimately advanced to the final with a commanding lead of three hundred and seventy points, setting up a meeting with Bulgaria, this year's most talked-about team.
The twins, whose hearts had already been broken by England, Scotland, and Wales, were positively overjoyed.
It was not just the twins. Every spectator from the United Kingdom was cheering that night. As for whether people in the other parts of the campsite, especially the Peruvian spectators, found them noisy, they could not care less.
What was this called? Home-field advantage!
We're the hosts! Yeah, we've simply got more spectators. Got a problem with that? Then suck it up!
"Ireland's Keeper was brilliant. Peru's Chasers were actually really good today, but none of them could get past him." As a Keeper himself, Ron naturally paid attention to the Keeper.
"Actually, I think you'd do just as well as him, Ron." Hermione seemed very excited too.
She had only watched school-level matches before; this was her first time watching a professional match in person. Watching such a high-level match, with players streaking across the sky at tremendous speed while still coordinating so precisely, had set her blood pumping.
Even almost an hour after the match had ended, her little face still flushed whenever she talked about it.
Even so, Hermione still felt that the frightening moves Ron had shown at school made him more than capable of playing Keeper in a professional match.
Harry and the others who had seen Ron's astonishing performances all nodded in agreement.
"I'm not that confident." Ron waved his hands repeatedly. "They move too fast, and they vary their moves so much. One little lapse