Chapter 397 Neville with lip marks on his face
Roger's eyes were fixed on the giant blackboard in the distance, where his own advertisement was being played.
"Flash Golem House - your travel companion. Convenient and reliable, capture wonderful moments at any time..." The advertising slogan is catchy.
Cornflower, a broomstick suitable for the whole family...Ottoman magic carpet, quality that has remained unchanged for thousands of years...Fengya brand wizard uniform...
"Sir, are you interested in participating in the betting?" The Weasley twins hugged the box, climbed to the luxury box on the top floor, and enthusiastically promoted it to everyone.
Since Arthur was fired, the staff at the Ministry of Magic rejected the two red-haired twins with smiles. They returned disappointed and retreated to a corner to grumble privately.
Ludo had to point his wand at his throat and whisper: "The voice is loud."
"Please allow me to introduce the mascot of the Bulgarian national team." His voice was like thunder, resounding throughout the stadium.
The right side of the stands turned into a sea of red, and the Bulgarian team brought a hundred Veela. This was the most beautiful woman many wizards had ever seen in their lives. Many wizards and wizards at Hogwarts fell in love with him at first sight.
As they dance, the men's minds go blank, filled with nothing but ultimate, pure joy. Everything else no longer mattered, all they needed to do was look at them. What inhuman races, what racial boundaries, what age and health problems, become worthless in the face of unparalleled beauty.
Whether it was the old wizards with stooped backs who needed crutches to walk, or the young wizards who were ignorant of love, they all watched intently. Their eyes were fixed on the Veela's moonlight-like skin, long light golden hair, and graceful figures, and they wanted to hold them tightly in their arms and crush them in their chests.
The more obsessed the wizards became, the angrier the witches became. Some people even jumped from the audience seats.
"The dance is too artificial." Rogge criticized. He did not deny the beauty and temptation of the Veela, nor did he block the evil sound that penetrated his ears.
However, compared to Helena's natural dance, the Veela's movements seemed more like the walking dead in the red light district, lacking real beauty, and even made him feel a little nauseous.
This didn't stop Neville from watching it with fascination. There was drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were always staring at the swaying, silver-white penis. He climbed over the railing with one leg, swallowed, and seemed ready to jump onto the field. If Rogge hadn't stopped him in time, he might have been injured before the game started.
"What, fascinated by the Bulgarian mascot?" Rogge joked.
"Rogg, they... they are so beautiful." Neville licked his lips, even regretting a little in his heart, "Why should I turn my hair green."
"Why don't you go backstage to meet them after their performance?" Rogge's smile contained a hint of malicious intent, and he continued, "I will keep it a secret and will never tell Mrs. Longbottom."
Neville's grandma's stern face appeared in his mind, and the fluctuations in his heart quickly subsided. He muttered hesitantly: "This... this is not good."
"What's wrong? If you don't tell me, if I don't tell you, how will Mrs. Longbottom know?" Rogge felt happy and patted his chest and promised: "As the president of the Jackdaw Magic Club, I care about the psychology of the members. Health is my responsibility.”
"You just go to meet them and don't do anything. Look, those lovely Veela are leaving." Rogge pointed at the court and said.
The group of Veela conquered many wizards with their gaudy dance moves. They used strong and suggestive movements to make the wizards feel hungry. Even the Han River girl groups of later generations are slightly conservative in comparison. Look at those slender legs and soft waist, she must be a first-class partner in bed.
Especially those wizards with families. They secretly glanced at their wives, and what they saw was an angry, familiar and boring face, as well as a figure that was getting fatter by doing housework. They feel extremely frustrated when they think about hands that feel nothing to the touch.
The Veela left before the atmosphere reached its climax, leaving the wizards before the impending peak. They blew kisses and disappeared into the darkness. The stadium echoed with angry roars, which were the wizards' dissatisfaction and rejection of Veela's departure.
"Go ahead, you are the heir of the Longbottom family, a wizard of the holy pure-blood family." Rogge encouraged him, "Look at a stadium with 100,000 people, how many people can watch the game in the top box? Neville, you Very good, very good!”
"I..." Neville's face flushed, and Rogge's words ignited his inner confidence.
"you can!"
"Yes, I can do it." Neville kept encouraging himself, then turned around and ran towards the Veela who was leaving.
Susan next to her witnessed this scene completely, and she finally understood why her aunt did not let her have too much contact with Slytherin students. Neville Longbottom, who was shy, introverted, and lacking self-confidence in school, was inspired by a few words from Rogge to find the courage to look for Veela.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm helping him build his self-confidence." Rogge explained with a smile.
"Do you think I believe it?" Susan asked.
"Just trust Neville." Rogge's answer left her speechless. Susan was silent for a long time, and it was not until the Irish leprechaun dropped the gold coins that she retorted: "If Old Lady Longbottom finds out, Neville will be in trouble. Their family's dedication to pure blood is no less intense than that of the Black family. .”
"You're overthinking it. Neville is just here to have a look. He's not really looking for a girlfriend."
"Roger, you still don't understand Neville." Susan shook her head, "He is not you. There is no shortage of beautiful witches around you."
"Although what you said is a little hurtful, I admit that what you said makes sense." Rogge turned to her, and his bright eyes made Susan subconsciously lower her head to avoid it. "For example, right now, there is a man standing next to me. A beautiful witch from Hufflepuff."
"Yeah." Susan's face turned red visibly. She stamped her feet and said seriously: "I'm talking about something very serious!"
"How do you know that I didn't mean what I just said?" Rogge's flirtatious words made Susan feel happy.
But she still put on a righteous expression and said, "If Neville really falls in love with a Veela, his life in the family will be miserable. Old Lady Longbottom might expel him from the family."
"Gallons are precious, but freedom is more valuable. If it's for love, both can be thrown away." Rogge chanted in a melancholy tone like a poet, praising softly: "Neville is a warrior of Gryffindor, he is not You’ll be scared.”
"Warrior?!" Susan looked at her president angrily and secretly swore in her heart: "I must stay away from Roger. He is too bad and too deceptive."
If Neville really fell in love with a Veela, Mrs. Longbottom should feel lucky. After all, Hogwarts was led by Dumbledore. He did not fall in love with a biological male or a psychological female. Thank God for the transvestite "cabinet" wizard.
Of course, Susan didn't know that in this short moment, 112 genders had flashed through Roger's mind, and there were even images of Wal-Mart shopping bags and armed helicopters.
Compared with the soul-stirring effects left by Veela to wizards and wizards, the Irish leprechauns rained gold coins and made everyone immersed in carnival. Wizards went crazy to pick up these "gold galleons", and Ron even used the collected gold coins to repay the money he owed Harry.
"The leprechaun's gold coins will disappear in a few hours, but I heard it's true." Susan picked up the gold coins and then scattered them out.
"Isn't it really just Galleons?" Rogge asked doubtfully. He didn't know much about the history of Ireland.
Susan checked happily, and her hand was full of fake gold coins that looked like galleons. She shook her head and explained: "No, the fake ones look like galleons. The real ones have green clovers, mushrooms or little people on them. They symbolize luck, happiness and mystery."
"In this stadium that accommodates 100,000 people, I really don't know who would be so lucky to pick up real coins." She took a deep breath and looked at the shining golden rain.
"The leprechaun on the front and the clover on the back?" Rogge asked.
"You?" Susan looked at Roger with disbelief and asked in surprise: "Did you really pick it up?"
"Come quickly." Rogge waved his wand, and a golden meteor cut through the heavy rain and fell steadily into his hand.
"Ah, this..." Susan didn't know what to say. Shouldn't she wait for them to fall down on their own? Or, pick it up if it falls around you?
Rogge spread his hands, and the real leprechaun gold coin lay peacefully in his palm. As Susan said, it is completely different from the alluring galleons in the sky.
"I never wait for good luck to fall into my hands." He smiled and used the transformation technique to fix the gold coins on the rope, "because good luck may favor other people, so..."
Susan saw his stretched out hand and subconsciously hid it in her sleeve. But Rogge pulled her and tied the leprechaun gold coin around her wrist.
"So, I choose to catch the good luck myself." His expression was serious and his tone was very heavy: "Susan, the magic world is starting to become unstable. You are Amelia's niece, so you must be careful. Rather than believe it, For luck, it’s better to trust the magic wand in your hand.”
"Me?" Susan, who was blushing, was frightened by the serious Rogge. She looked at his firm eyes and nodded heavily.
Rogge turned to look at the game. The Bulgarian team was being beaten by the Irish team. Their chasers were far inferior to those of the Irish national team, and their batsmen were so bad that they were unable to disturb their opponents.
Spectators, armed with binoculars capable of analyzing the game, marveled at the Irish team's successive tactical moves. At a high altitude far away from the main battlefield, Cold Klum was inspecting the arena.
As the best wizard in Durmstrang, he actually lost to the so-called savior. This made him feel pain and boredom, and he vowed to prove himself in the World Cup final.
The Irish team's seeker Lin Qi followed behind him, not looking for the golden snitch, as if he was treating the other person as his own bloodhound. Krum glanced at him, his eyes continuing to search the audience.
Krum's eyes quickly scanned the audience, and finally locked on Harry's face. A sneer curled up at the corner of his mouth, and then he suddenly pulled up the broomstick, making a beautiful pirouette, followed by a sharp descent. His movements were smooth and confident, as if he was dancing in the air.
His purpose was clear - to show off his flying skills to Harry, as if to say: "Look, I'm playing in the World Cup finals and you're in the audience watching."
Harry felt Krum's gaze and responded with a calm smile. The results of the minor league match spoke volumes. There was no anger in his eyes, only a quiet confidence that was more powerful than any words or actions.
"Stupid Krum!" Ron stood next to Harry, his tone full of disdain for the defeated opponent, "What does he have to be proud of?"
He turned to Harry, his eyes shining with anticipation: "Harry, I have joined the Gryffindor team. Next year, we will defeat him in the league together."
"Next year?" The Weasley twins looked at each other and smiled, "Krum will graduate next year."
Harry smiled and said confidently: "It doesn't matter, Ron. We can still defeat him in the next World Cup."
At this time, the Bulgarian team's coaches and fans became increasingly serious. Under the wild bombardment of the Irish team, the score became a disparity of 10:100.
"Now, there is not much time left for Krum!" The commentator's voice was filled with a hint of joking, and he explained with a smile: "Although we all know that the professional game can only end with catching the Golden Snitch.
However, once the score difference exceeded 150, the game almost came to an end. Judging from the newly released minor league rules of the National League Quidditch Federation, they are steadily advancing a reform.
Perhaps in the near future, a point difference mechanism will also be introduced in the professional arena to end the game. 150 points, 300 points, 500 points? No matter how much it ends up being, the current situation on the field is already one-sided. "
"Unless Krum catches the Golden Snitch as soon as possible." The smile in his voice became more obvious.
There were knowing smiles from the fans of the Irish team. The seekers of both teams were wandering aimlessly in the air. They didn't see the Golden Snitch at all.
Suddenly, Krum swooped down. The audience's attention immediately shifted from him, nervously watching his every move.
The commentator couldn't see clearly whether there was a Golden Snitch below, and could only vaguely guess: "Did Krum see hope of victory, or did he deliberately make fake moves to attract his opponent?"
"Look, Lin Qi from the Irish team is flying over like crazy. Maybe he should have been following his opponent closely."
The huge blackboard above the arena instantly showed Klum's figure, and in the shadow he was chasing, there was indeed a golden light shining.
"The Golden Snitch!" the audience exclaimed, standing up one after another, nervously looking forward to the result.
On the other side of the field, Ireland's Chasers had to increase the pace of their attack. The score now is 10:140, and they must defend the victory that is close at hand!
"Can't catch it, can't catch it!" the Irish supporters chanted in unison.
"Lin Qi, you bastard, hurry up!"
The British wizards around Rogge had different reactions, some beat their chests and feet in grief, and some secretly cursed Krum, who was in the lead. They have not won the Quidditch World Cup for 40 years. Are they going to fail this year?
Their hearts were as anxious as those of prisoners awaiting execution.
"10:150!" A loud voice came from the commentary box, "Is it a draw, a narrow defeat, or a victory?"
At this moment, everyone focused on Krum. He was like a scarlet blood arrow, hitting the golden target accurately.
"competition is over!"
The Irish Chaser holds the Quaffle in front of the empty golden goal. As long as he is given one more second, he can throw the ball in!
"160:150! The Bulgarian team reversed the game and they are the champions of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!!!"
Inside and outside the stadium, Bulgaria's red wave is surging. The Veela appeared again and celebrated their victory with their beautiful dance.
Ireland's mascots, the generous leprechauns, frowned and sulked. They rushed forward unconvinced and struggled with the Veelas.
Whistles sounded one after another in the stadium, and even Rogge blew a long whistle. It's fun to watch people fight, especially beautiful women fighting. Soon, a wizard intervened and stopped the leprechauns.
The Bulgarian national anthem sounded from all directions, and their minister was speaking fluent English, showing off to Fudge next to him.
"So you know English?" The stupid Fudge looked at the other party in surprise.
"Now, the Bulgarian team will tour the stadium for a week, accompanied by Veela! The Quidditch World Cup championship trophy was sent to the top box." Ludo, Director of the Sports Department, announced.
"Roger, I'm back!" Neville's whole body was red, as if he was drunk, and there were several bright lipstick marks on his cheeks.
Rogge raised his camera with a smile on his face and said jokingly: "Oh, our warriors are back!"
"Of course, the Veela are really nice. However, they say I am too young..." Neville, who was full of confidence, wanted to continue to say something. Suddenly, he felt a terrifying aura approaching from not far away. .
Mrs. Longbottom was already depressed because the Irish team lost the game. She turned around and glanced casually, and found her grandson: Neville with green hair and lipstick marks all over his face.
It doesn't matter, after all, there are many such wizards in pure-blood families. But when she saw the light blond hair in her grandson's hand, she was shaking with anger. Veela's hair has a special meaning. There must be a shameless Veela trying to seduce his grandson!
