Fudge and his entourage didn't stay in the VIP box for long. As the host and Minister for Magic of England—which he considered the birthplace of magic—he had to go on stage to open the ceremony.
Soon, the 422nd Quidditch World Cup final officially began, with Bulgaria and Ireland competing for the championship.
The first to appear were not the players, but the two teams' mascots.
A perfectly straight line of scarlet-robed figures glided onto the pitch, and the stands erupted in a thunderous roar, especially from the male wizards, many of whom seemed ready to leap from their seats.
This was because Bulgaria's mascots were quite different from the usual. One hundred Veela glided across the pitch, causing a surge of excitement to sweep through the stadium. As a magical part-human race with an innate allure, they possessed a boundless appeal for human males. They seemed to have an invisible pheromone spray, and even just their every movement and gesture was enough to easily captivate the male audience.
The situation reached its peak when the Veela began to dance. The male wizards stared on, dazed and glassy-eyed. Ron's eyes were completely unfocused, and he began to walk uncontrollably toward the railing of their box. Even Harry was in a similar state.
In the entire box, only Hermione and Dudley were unaffected. It wasn't that Dudley was immune to women, but in his eyes, the Veela took the form of harpies, or more accurately, harpies with beaks. If that still got a reaction from Dudley, his... preferences would have to be very strange indeed.
"Heads up!" Dudley waved his wand, and a refreshing feeling of clarity washed over the others, bringing them back to their senses.
"Where did you all learn Occlumency?"
At his words, the others immediately turned away, their eyes losing their focus. Occlumency was an excellent way to resist the allure.
"It's said that when male wizards see a Veela, their minds go blank and they're consumed by an extreme sense of bliss."
Dudley thought of their unique nature as he calmly watched the dancing Veela below. If a male wizard and a Veela were together, would they be immune to Dementors? Or would using a Veela to practise the Patronus Charm make the learning process faster?
The dance ended quickly, and the Veela departed the pitch. The stands erupted with angry shouts, as it was clear the male wizards didn't want the performance to end.
However, they soon quieted down as the Irish team's mascots appeared: a team of Leprechauns.
At the same time, it began to rain gold.
They were gold coins!
At that moment, the crowd went wild again.
Beauties and money. Both teams were playing dirty tricks. It was a shame the beauties were an illusion, and the money was fake.
Next, the two teams took the pitch. When Krum appeared, a cheer went up, showing how popular he was.
"The Snitch is behind you!"
"Too slow! Now it's below you."
"Left, near the post! Left!"
Sitting in the stands, Dudley could easily follow the fast-moving Golden Snitch, but everyone else, including Krum, couldn't. If Dudley were to play this game, no one else would stand a chance.
The Irish team's skills were solid, and their teamwork was far superior to Bulgaria's. They scored several goals in quick succession, pulling ahead by dozens of points. It was a complete rout. For Bulgaria to win, they would have to rely on Krum catching the Snitch to end the match quickly. If the score difference went over 150 points, a team would lose even if they caught the Snitch.
Halfway through the game, the two teams' mascots began to fight. The Veela transformed back to their true forms, making the male wizards who were just mesmerized by them shake their heads in disappointment. The score was now 10 to 100.
The two teams were simply not on the same level. Dudley suspected that Bulgaria's opponents had intentionally lost just to get them into the final. In the end, Krum made a magnificent catch, but it was too late. The gap was already over 150 points.
With a collective sigh of disappointment, the Quidditch World Cup came to a close.
---
Nightfall
The wizards who had watched the match returned to their tents. They gathered with their friends, drinking and talking loudly as they bragged about their knowledge of the game. It was a very lively atmosphere.
But alcohol dulls the senses, and wizards were no exception. As they say, "Dutch courage" leads to trouble, and ninety per cent of disorderly gatherings are a result of too much drinking. Alcohol also magnifies the darker aspects of human nature.
And this was the most crucial point: with over a hundred thousand wizards, not all of them were equally civil.
Mocking laughter and drunken shouts filled the air.
Some of the drunken wizards staggered around, while others simply collapsed onto the ground and fell asleep. Others still were doing things to a large tree that were better left unmentioned.
And some wizards...
Cries of terror rang out across the campsite. Four struggling figures hovered in the air, their bodies pulled and twisted into strange shapes. They were the Muggle family in charge of the camp's maintenance. The drunken wizards had captured them.
The wizards laughed, and the Muggles screamed. Was there anything more thrilling and enjoyable than tormenting Muggles?
People often take out their aggression on the weak. The youngest of the Muggles being tormented was a five or six-year-old child. He was spinning in the air like a top, his head lolling to one side. He was completely unresponsive, and it was impossible to tell if he was dead or alive.
Despite the commotion, no wizard seemed to pay any mind. Or perhaps they had all heard, but they chose to remain silent. No wizard would get into a conflict with a crowd of drunks over a few Muggles. Especially a crowd this large.
More and more wizards, their faces covered by hoods and masks, joined in the torment, seemingly worried about being recognised.
What was the Ministry of Magic doing while all this was happening?
Minister Fudge was fast asleep in his tent, as if completely unaware of the events outside. Undersecretary Umbridge was drinking coffee and admiring the cat portraits on her wall. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, was counting his Galleons in his room.
In fact, there were other Ministers of Magic in the crowd of a hundred thousand wizards, but not one of them stepped forward.
It was just as the old saying went:
First they came for my neighbours, and I didn't speak up. Then they took my friends, and I chose to remain silent. When they came for my family, I still didn't say anything. And now, it's my turn.
The crazed wizards began to set the surrounding tents on fire.
This... was a premeditated attack.