Chapter 108

Bang, bang, bang.

Countless fireworks bloomed in the night sky.

The Quidditch World Cup was held as scheduled at sunset.

One hundred thousand wizards gathered, and just getting through the ticket check took a lot of time.

But fortunately, they were VIP guests in the Minister's box and had an exclusive entrance, so they didn't need to queue for too long.

"Let's go, children, don't get separated."

After Mr. Claude took out the tickets, he led the group of children and Sirius inside.

Behind them were the Weasley family, who were also VIP guests in the Minister's box, so they followed closely behind.

Once inside, one could see the huge dome, countless lights illuminating the arena as if it were daylight, and the spectator stands were layered and stacked, surrounding the central Quidditch pitch.

The long-awaited Quidditch World Cup finally kicked off, and Titus and the others were all full of excitement.

Even John was infected by this grand atmosphere.

Following the flow of people, they soon arrived at the Minister's box.

This box was not a small room, but a semi-circular viewing platform divided into more than a dozen levels, suspended in the middle of the pitch, with a view wide enough to take in the entire arena.

Their seats happened to be at the very top of this viewing platform.

"My goodness, isn't that Arthur? What did you sell to be able to bring this whole family to this box?"

As soon as their group entered the box, they heard a sarcastic, teasing voice.

A man with long, silver-white hair, leaning on an exquisite cane, sat in a position near the center of the box and smiled at Mr. Weasley.

Beside him was someone John knew, none other than Draco Malfoy.

Then this must be Draco's father, Lucius; they looked quite alike.

Mr. Weasley didn't engage in a war of words, just smiled slightly and led the children straight past.

Lucius Malfoy wore a contemptuous smile, his gaze sweeping over Mr. Claude's group, his eyes narrowing.

"Claude, have you started hanging out with the Weasleys too?"

"Heh, Mr. Malfoy, I don't think I need your permission for who I hang out with."

Mr. Claude smiled indifferently, his tone calm but unquestionable.

Lucius just tapped his cane on the ground, his smile growing colder.

"Claude, I hope you don't ruin your own future, and as for these Muggle-born wizards, it's better to keep your children away from them."

Mr. Claude remained expressionless.

"Malfoy, who my child makes friends with is his own freedom."

"On the contrary, as for your child, I hope you can keep him in check and stop him from causing trouble at school, lest he suffer for it one day."

Upon hearing this, Lucius pulled a cold sneer.

"Then let's wait and see, Claude, and see whether your indulgence leads to tragedy or my teachings preserve his life."

With that, neither side spoke further, and Mr. Claude led the children toward their seats.

John and the others remained silent throughout, not interrupting the adults' conversation.

Titus patted John on the shoulder nonchalantly and whispered, "Don't mind them, Malfoy has always been like this."

He was worried John would overthink it, because Lucius's words were clearly aimed at John.

Presumably, Draco had told Lucius about what happened at school, which was why Lucius said such things to target him.

John shrugged, not taking it to heart.

He wasn't a little wizard who didn't understand anything anymore.

People like Malfoy, who prided themselves on their pure-blood heritage, just liked to belittle Muggle-born wizards, trying to use bloodline as a means to divide status.

When they were at school, they had even gotten into a brawl with Draco.

It didn't seem like being pure-blood gave any advantage.

Soon they arrived at their seats, which happened to be adjacent to the Weasley family.

They didn't mention the unpleasantness from just a moment ago.

After all, they were too lazy to bother with such pointless provocations.

So they continued to chat and laugh about the upcoming Quidditch match.

Before the match started, there were mascot performances from the national teams.

Although they were just images created by magical fireworks dancing in the air.

As an opening performance, it was enough to attract everyone's attention.

"John, let's guess which side will win this match; the loser has to grant the winner one request, how about it?"

During this time, Hermione and John were chatting in the corner when Hermione suddenly proposed to John in a low voice.

"Sure, then I'll guess that team with that Krum guy wins."

John didn't hesitate much regarding Hermione's invitation, casually picking the team with the star player he had seen a few days ago.

"Bulgaria, right? Then I'll guess the Irish team."

Hermione nodded; in fact, she didn't know which team was stronger either, so it didn't matter which side she chose.

The point was, whether she won against John or lost to John, she would have more opportunities to interact with him.

"Just a disclaimer, no making unreasonable requests."

Seeing Hermione agree so quickly, looking so confident, John thought he might have picked the wrong side and quickly added a clause.

"That's my line."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, speechless.

Was she the kind of person who would make excessive demands? At most, it would be... cough.

"Eh? It's Veela!"

At this moment, exclamations came, and following the sound, they looked toward the pitch.

They saw hundreds of Veela materialize from the air, with graceful figures and flowing hair, dancing lightly on the pitch accompanied by strange singing.

Their singing seemed to carry magic, gently brushing past everyone's ears, making people fall into dreamlike reveries.

Many spectators stood up involuntarily, their gazes obsessively following the dancing figures.

John was watching too, but he remained seated, not bewitched by the singing like those other spectators who were dancing wildly.

Hmm, this dance was really good, although he didn't understand it.

"By the way, what is a Veela, Hermione?"

John asked Hermione curiously, as this touched upon his blind spot in knowledge.

However, Hermione didn't respond immediately, but blinked at John.

Seeing John's eyes were clear, without any sign of being charmed, she felt slightly surprised.

But then she revealed an ambiguous smile.

"Veela are humanoid magical creatures from Eastern Europe; their singing and dancing can bewitch men, making them lose their minds."

"However, pure-blooded Veela are very rare now; the ones you see before you are all half-human, which is why they have human appearances."

Hearing Hermione's explanation, John nodded thoughtfully.

No wonder Titus and the others had such lecherous faces, as if their souls had been hooked.

And adults like Sirius, who had seen the world, didn't seem to be affected.

Well, it turns out my willpower is just too strong.

As expected of me.

John felt secretly proud, but then saw Hermione's mouth curl up, and she added with a smile.

"And I've heard that if a boy already has someone he likes, he won't be affected by Veela."

Hearing this, John was stunned, looking at Hermione's smiling eyes, and for a moment, he felt as if he had been seen through by her.

He immediately coughed lightly and looked away.

"Cough, I see, thank you for the lesson."

John turned his gaze back to the Veela still dancing on the pitch, only to find that compared to just now, he couldn't watch them anymore.

And Hermione, watching John's reaction, couldn't help but feel a touch of soft sweetness in her heart.

She didn't say anything more, just moved a little closer to John.