Chapter 326: Quidditch World Cup (Part 3)
"Here come—Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! And lastly—Lynch!"
As seven green-clad figures blurred into the arena, the noise erupted once more.
"And our referee today—the esteemed President of the International Quidditch Federation, Hassan Mustafa, who flew in from Egypt!"
As Fudge introduced him, a short, lean wizard in gleaming golden robes, matching the stadium's colors, strode onto the pitch.
"He's so ugly," Leah muttered to Phineas.
Phineas nodded in agreement.
Indeed, Hassan Mustafa was completely bald, with a thick beard concealing most of the silver whistle around his neck. He held a large wooden box under one arm and a broomstick under the other.
Mounting his broom, Mustafa kicked open the box, releasing the Quaffle, two black Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch with its glittering wings. The game officially began!
"They're off!"
Bagman shouted over the roar of the crowd.
"It's Mullet—Troy—Moran—back to Mullet—now Troy—finally Moran!"
Even Phineas, who had never been fond of Quidditch, had to admit the final was far more thrilling than any match he'd seen before.
The players darted about at impossible speeds, passing the Quaffle so rapidly that Bagman could barely keep up.
"Eagle-head attack formation!" Harry suddenly cried.
"What?" Phineas asked, confused, only to see Harry excitedly peering through the panoramic telescope he'd crafted, pointing at the pitch.
Phineas followed his line of sight. The three Irish Chasers flew in close formation, heading for the Bulgarian goal.
Troy feinted toward the Quaffle, drawing Bulgaria's Chaser Ivanova aside, then passed to Moran. At the same moment, Bulgarian Beater Volkov smashed a Bludger toward Moran.
Moran ducked, dodging the Bludger while simultaneously hurling the Quaffle toward the goal.
Levsky, waiting below, leapt up and intercepted it—only for Troy to slam it into the goal just as the Keeper lunged.
"Troy scores!"
Bagman bellowed. The audience exploded into cheers, and the stadium itself rumbled with excitement.
"Ireland leads 10–0!"
Even Phineas could see that the Irish Chasers were in a league of their own. Their teamwork was flawless, their coordination uncanny—as though they were reading each other's minds.
In just ten minutes, Ireland scored two more goals—30–0. The crowd, clad in green, roared in delight.
The game intensified. Bulgaria's Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, launched relentless Bludger attacks, forcing the Irish Chasers to scatter—but it wasn't enough to stop another goal.
After Bulgaria scored once, the Veela mascots danced in celebration. Wizards all over the stadium clamped their ears and squeezed their eyes shut.
Suddenly, the Seekers made their move.
Krum and Lynch plummeted like twin comets, diving straight toward the ground.
"They're going to crash!" Hermione gasped, her hands over her mouth.
But neither Seeker would make such a rookie mistake.
At the last moment, Krum pulled up and looped into the sky. Lynch wasn't so lucky—he hit the ground hard, eliciting groans from the Irish side.
"The match is paused!"
Bagman announced.
A medical team rushed onto the field to check on Aidan Lynch.
"Quidditch really is a dangerous and unnecessary sport," Phineas said solemnly.
Leah rolled her eyes and gave him a light tap on the shoulder.
Thanks to prompt medical attention, Lynch was mostly unharmed, though he needed a few minutes to recover.
Meanwhile, Krum circled high above, scouring the field for the Snitch without interference.
Lynch soon remounted his Firebolt and soared into the sky, drawing thunderous cheers from the Irish supporters.
His return revitalized the Irish team. The Chasers scored goal after goal—ten in total—bringing the score to 130–10.
With tensions rising, the match grew increasingly brutal.
"Mustafa just penalized the Bulgarian Keeper for excessive elbowing!" Bagman cried.
"Ireland's got a penalty shot!"
Irritated by the call, the Veela began dancing provocatively toward the referee. Though protected by mediwizards, Mustafa was clearly angered and ordered the mascots removed from the field.
The Bulgarians descended into rough play—deliberate collisions, illegal hits, and off-pitch distractions.
But amid the chaos, the Irish Seeker Lynch spotted the Snitch.
The crowd began to buzz. A wave of green surged through the stands.
Krum realized what was happening and raced after Lynch. With blood dripping from a broken nose, he caught up—both Seekers dived again.
"They're going to hit the ground!" Hope gasped.
Hermione nodded gravely.
"Lynch is going to crash again," Harry added.
And he did.
Krum soared upward, battered and bloodied, his fist raised high—gold glinting between his fingers. He had the Snitch.
The scoreboard flashed: Bulgaria 160 – Ireland 170
Before the audience could process it, the match was over.
Then the stadium erupted—roars of joy from the Irish supporters and relieved cheers from all who had bet on an Irish victory.
"Ireland wins!"
Bagman shouted, stunned.
"Krum caught the Snitch, but Ireland wins! Incredible!"
Phineas murmured,
"This Krum is sharp. He knew they couldn't catch up—so he ended the game."
Leah nodded. "He's brave... but he looks awful."
Phineas glanced at the pitch and had to agree—Krum was a mess.
He shook his head and turned to the others in the box.
"Let's go. There's bound to be a parade, and it'll get chaotic."
Sirius nodded, and together they returned to their tent.
Soon, the crowd spilled out of the stadium like a human tide. Laughter, music, and shouting filled the air. Leprechauns flew overhead, waving lanterns and chuckling.
The celebration was wild and loud.
"The Ministry staff are in for a long night," Sirius said. "Good luck getting the Irish to stop celebrating."
Then—with a bang—a figure appeared inside the Black family's tent.
Sirius and Phineas leapt into a defensive stance, but relaxed when they saw who it was.
"Damon? What are you doing here?" Phineas asked, frowning.
Damon was unrecognizable—disheveled, dusty, and pale.
"Master, something's happened!"
Phineas's expression darkened. "What is it?"
"Our base was attacked—by wizards in black robes and white masks. I didn't recognize them at first, but after escaping... I remembered."
"The Council's Law Enforcement Team?" Phineas asked grimly.
Damon nodded.
"I believe so."
"But why would they attack you?" Sirius asked, perplexed. "Everyone knows you're aligned with the Blacks."
"I'm not sure," Damon replied. "But it wasn't just us. The Lestrange, Ritchie, and Selwyn family strongholds were hit too. The Lestrange head was even captured."
Phineas frowned.
"Why attack the Consul families? The Council of Elders depends on their support. If they move against them... it threatens the entire structure."
The Council of Elders would not move lightly against the Consul family.
You had to understand—only a handful of neutral families remained in the entire Council. The rest? Bound to the four great Consul families. If the Consuls faltered, it wasn't just their downfall—it was the Council's own stability crumbling.
And yet, the Elders had acted.
Wait… Had they, truly?
Phineas hesitated. If the Council had truly struck, there had to be a reason.
Half a year ago, at the last consular meeting, everything had proceeded smoothly. Every proposal passed without protest.
By all accounts, the American branch was already within the Council's grasp. Two more months, at most, and it would be theirs completely.
So why would the Elders risk upheaval now?
Sirius suddenly spoke.
"Wasn't it during your engagement? You met with Corvus, Kuzan, and Elrond then, right?"
Phineas stiffened.
A year ago—the engagement. He'd spoken in strict confidence with Corvus, Kuzan, and Elrond. Only them. No one else.
And that was the problem.
The three men had all profited from what followed. They'd never betray him. Which meant the Council's sudden move against the Consul family couldn't be about their private pact.
Unless…
The godhood.
His jaw tightened. Ascension was too valuable, too sacred—Kuzan wouldn't talk. None of them would.
So why had the Elders struck?
There were pieces missing. And until he found them, the knife hovering over the Consuls' throats could fall at any moment.
"Damon," Phineas said, "have our people stay alert. Defend against any further attacks. Also, look into what happened to the Lestrange, Ritchie, and Selwyn families."
Damon nodded and vanished.
Phineas snapped his fingers.
Pop!
Puff, the house-elf, appeared.
"Master!"
"Puff," Phineas said, "ask around among the house-elves. Find out what's happening within the Council of Elders. Discreetly."
House-elves rarely spoke of their masters—but they had their own ways of learning things.
(This is reflected in the original book. Also at the Quidditch World Cup, in the book Order of the Phoenix, Harry met the house-elf Winky in the box. They talked about Dobby. Winky mentioned that Dobby always talked about Harry. From this we can see that house-elves from different families communicate with each other.)
Puff nodded and disappeared.
Phineas turned to Sirius.
"We can't stay here."
Sirius nodded solemnly.
"But where do we go? Even with your magic guarding the old house, there's no guarantee the Council won't find it."