In the next half hour, the top box they were in gradually filled up with people.
Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with individuals who were clearly very influential wizards, while Percy repeatedly jumped up from his seat as if a row of porcupine quills had suddenly sprouted from it.
The last person to enter was Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and everyone stood up to greet him, but Fudge made a surprising move.
He strode toward the front row as if he had spotted an old friend, extending his hand from afar.
Percy was almost beside himself with joy.
The adults were all on the other side, while here were just a few kids.
Bill and Charlie were abroad, and the rest were still at Hogwarts, only he worked at the Ministry of Magic.
Could it be...
Percy’s heart began pounding wildly, instinctively bowing and extending his hand.
His glasses fell to the ground due to the deep bow.
However, in the next mont, Fudge passed by without acknowledging him, as if he were nothing more than an inconspicuous sculpture or a phone booth on the roadside, not even glancing at him.
"Oh, Kael, so glad to see you here."
Fudge placed his hand naturally on Kael’s shoulder, patting it vigorously, his attitude much warr than towards the others.
"How has your vacation been?" he asked kindly.
"Great." Kael, realizing the situation, nodded, "Looking forward to the Quidditch World Cup."
"Yes, indeed, I even saved a ticket for you, but Arthur beat to it." He jokingly glanced at Mr. Weasley.
Mr. Weasley didn’t know what to say, and could only force a smile.
When he went to Ludo Bagman for tickets, he did ntion Kael’s na, but the latter never brought this up.
"But speaking of which."
Fudge continued, "During the vacation, I kept waiting for Albus’s owl, yet you didn’t write a single letter.
Do you know what he’s been busy with lately? And that potion... I think you know what I an, it can transform that rat back, right?"
Potion?
Kael quickly realized that Fudge was likely referring to the Resurrection Potion that could revert Peter Pettigrew’s Animagus transformation.
No wonder he’s so enthusiastic.
Due to the Quidditch World Cup, Crouch’s international reputation has surged, probably causing him so insecurity.
"Don’t worry, Mr. Minister." Having thought it through, Kael imdiately smiled and said, "As far as I know, the Resurrection Potion was brewed a month ago; we have a big cauldron, all used on that rat, guaranteed no problem."
"Then I’m assured, Albus never made a mistake," said Fudge, then he grew serious again, "You should have contacted , I think I ntioned before, regarding this matter, I personally will represent the Ministry of Magic to fully support you."
"Perhaps Professor Dumbledore didn’t want to trouble you," said Kael, "Organizing a competition with ten thousand wizards participating is no easy task."
"Ah, Albus..." Fudge feigned displeasure, "Though there’s quite a lot going on lately, I always reserve ti for him; I even turned down several important etings while waiting for his owl."
"etings? More like banquets," thought Kael, but outwardly he remained unaffected, joining Fudge in criticizing Dumbledore’s aloof behavior.
This made Fudge look even happier.
Then he introduced Kael to the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic’s minister beside him, dressed in a gorgeous, gold-trimd velvet robe, but he seed unable to understand Fudge’s words at all.
Fudge gestured while speaking, yet failed to convey the aning of "youngest mber of the rlin Knight Order."
However, as he turned his gaze this way, it unintentionally fell upon Harry’s forehead.
Excitedly, he pointed at the scar, loudly babbling sothing.
"Oh, yes, Harry Potter..." Fudge walked over and shook Harry’s hand like a father, "You must know, he is the boy who survived from You-Know-Who."
The Bulgarian minister said sothing again.
No one present could understand, and Harry was utterly confused, not knowing how he’d ended up being pulled over.
"I’m not good with languages," Fudge whispered to Harry and Kael, "In such situations, we usually need Barty Crouch, but he’s not here at the mont, though I saw his house-elf reserving a seat for him, very thoughtful... ah, here cos Lucius."
Three more people entered the box: Lucius Malfoy, Draco, and a woman.
"Ah, Minister Fudge." Lucius approached, extending his hand, "Hello, this is my wife, Narcissa, and our son, Draco."
"Hello, hello," Fudge nodded with a smile at Mrs. Malfoy, also introducing them to the Bulgarian minister.
But the language barrier made the atmosphere awkward.
However, Malfoy suddenly noticed Mr. Weasley standing aside.
"My goodness, Arthur." He whispered incredulously, "What did you sell to score seats in this top box? Surely your possessions aren’t worth that much, right?"
"I almost forgot you’re old acquaintances," said Fudge with a laugh, "Lucius has recently donated a considerable sum to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur, he’s my guest of honor."
"Oh... wonderful." Mr. Weasley forced a smile.
Lucius’s gaze swept to Hermione, whispering sothing to the woman beside him.
Narcissa Malfoy imdiately showed a look of disgust, as if she had slled sothing unpleasant.
She reacted similarly upon seeing Winky earlier, seemingly considering Muggle-born Hermione’s status akin to that of house-elves.
Under the watchful gaze of the Minister of Magic, however, they dared not utter anything inappropriate, remaining silent and heading to their seats.
Draco tried approaching Kael to greet him, but Narcissa stopped him, with Lucius watching on, neither intervening.
"Awful people," Ron muttered, as he, Harry, and Hermione turned their attention back to the stadium, using the newly purchased Panoramic Telescope to observe the crowd on the opposite side of the field.
Then, Ludo Bagman rushed into the box.
"Is everyone ready?" he said, his round face shining like a massive ball of cheese, "Minister... can we start?"
"Start whenever you wish, Ludo," said Fudge kindly, "I’m eager to see an exciting match."
"I assure you, you won’t be disappointed."
Ludo drew his wand, pointed it at his throat, and said, "Sonorus." Then his voice bood like thunder throughout the packed stadium.
In an instant, only his voice remained.
"Ladies and gentlen... welco!"
...
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