Percy, who had just come back to his senses, slumped into a chair. His expression was despondent, his eyes dull and lifeless.
He didn't even pay attention to George and Fred's mocking laughter beside him, laughter sharp and piercing like night owls.
Normally, he would've pulled out his elder-brother status and argued with them to the bitter end.
Of course, it could only ever be arguing. With that tall, bamboo-pole-thin frame of his, he couldn't possibly win a fight against those two twin brothers of his.
Mr. Weasley felt a little sorry and went up to pat Percy on the shoulder.
But it was of no use. To have made such a fool of himself in front of the person he admired most, Percy at this moment was in utter despair.
On the other side, Link was having a lively conversation with Fudge.
Fudge had brought along a whole entourage and came over to greet Link and Mrs. Flamel. After the routine pleasantries, he introduced them to the Bulgarian Minister for Magic standing behind him.
"The current head of the Flamel family! Madam Flamel! You certainly know her, don't you? Ah! And of course, the next heir of the Flamel family, Link Flamel, a remarkable young man indeed, the youngest in history to be awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class! Personally presented by me!"
Fudge spoke loudly, looking very proud.
The Bulgarian Minister was dressed in a splendid black velvet robe trimmed with gold. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like a fierce middle-aged man.
When he had first entered, he had seemed rather indifferent. But after hearing Fudge's introduction, the look in his eyes toward Madam Flamel and Link immediately became grave and serious.
The Flamel family's shady, neither-white-nor-black magical creature trade was a massive business, and they had plenty of industries in Bulgaria too, holding quite a bit of influence there.
So the Bulgarian Minister quickly straightened his attitude and, speaking in a string of Bulgarian, offered his greetings to Link and Madam Flamel.
Madam Flamel, in good spirits, responded to him in Bulgarian as well, and the two began chatting happily.
Seeing this, Fudge rubbed his hands together a little enviously and whispered to Link, "Amazing! I mean, the fact that your mother actually speaks Bulgarian, truly remarkable!"
"I've never been good with languages myself. Minister Obalonsk here doesn't understand English, and the only person who could've served as interpreter, Bartemius Crouch, has disappeared off somewhere, leaving only a house-elf sitting here taking up space, which is just plain rude!"
Fudge chattered on.
He wasn't stupid enough to ask Madam Flamel to serve as an impromptu translator, he was simply complaining.
Entertaining an important guest who doesn't speak your language was exhausting work.
Still, there was a silver lining, at least Fudge could insult the man right to his face and he wouldn't understand.
In fact, Fudge had already done that quite a few times on the way here. Now, every time he thought of how the other man had smiled cheerfully even while being cursed at, he couldn't help but want to laugh.
Watching Fudge sneak another laugh to himself, Link's expression grew a little strange.
From his observations of the Bulgarian Minister's expressions through Legilimency, and the scraps of memory he'd glimpsed, Link was certain the man actually did understand English.
Which meant the real clown here was Fudge himself.
Link predicted that once the Bulgarian Minister returned home, he would spread word far and wide of Fudge's rudeness in hosting him. This would make Fudge, and by extension the entire British Ministry of Magic, into a laughingstock.
Pressing his lips together, Link chose not to tell Fudge this.
Lately Fudge had grown far too arrogant, it was about time he got knocked down a peg.
While Link and Fudge were chatting idly, the Malfoy family also arrived at the box.
The moment they entered, they started up with the Weasleys again, trading snide remarks, dripping sarcasm back and forth, the air heavy with gunpowder.
But since everyone knew this was a highly important occasion, at least they didn't go at each other with fists the way they had at Flourish and Blotts.
By now, all the guests had arrived.
Ludo Bagman, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and also host of this match, hurried into the box and asked Fudge, "Minister, may we begin?"
"Whenever you're ready, Ludo."
Fudge replied warmly, looking every bit the generous host.
At his words, Ludo stayed right where he was. He pulled out his wand, tapped his throat, cast a Sonorus spell, and then boomed, "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"
With the Sonorus amplifying it, Ludo's voice exploded like thunder.
No sooner had he finished than the stands erupted into a roar even louder, like mountains collapsing and seas surging.
Cheers, applause, and even a jumble of national anthems rang out, obviously from Muggle-born wizards, since neither Bulgaria nor Britain's Ministry of Magic had ever bothered with national anthems.
On the massive blackboard opposite the box, the chaotic advertisements faded away and were replaced with a simple scoreboard, Bulgaria, 0, Ireland, 0
The sheer volume made the box tremble faintly, and even Link and the others inside were swept up in the excitement.
Emily clutched Link's hand tightly, her palm damp with sweat from excitement.
"Well then, without further ado, let me introduce the mascot of the Bulgarian National Team!"
At Ludo's announcement, a huge cheer erupted from the neat square of scarlet uniforms on the right-hand stands.
The Bulgarian Minister seemed to recall something. He looked worriedly at Link, then turned and said something to Madam Flamel.
Madam Flamel chuckled, shook her head proudly, and explained to Link with a smile when she saw him glance over, "He thinks you'll be bewitched by the Veela and embarrass yourself, so he wanted me to cover your eyes. But I don't believe that will affect you, right?"
Link answered with a confident smile.
Veela were intelligent, shape-shifting female spirits, magical beings, like goblins, counted among the sentient races.
Unlike goblins, though, they had no powerful magic of their own. Their only gift was their extraordinary shape-shifting.
They could turn into animals, and when they took human form, they became the most beautiful women in the world. They possessed the power of enchantment, driving men mad with desire.
This ability was vital for their survival, since their race had only females. To reproduce, they had to enchant males of other species.
Of course, their beauty and abilities often brought them disaster as well.
At the Nightingale Tavern in Knockturn Alley, where Krell often went, many Veela could be found. They had been captured by hunters and sold off for others to vent their desires, rumor had it, at very steep prices.
Nowadays, Veela were almost at the point of being designated protected creatures.
Link had once asked Krell whether the Flamel family had ever taken part in such shady business.
Krell hadn't answered. He had only smiled at Link, smiled cruelly.
That cruel, twisted smile had chilled Link to the bone, and it took him a long time to scrub it from his mind.
Just then, a group of Veela slid gracefully onto the pitch.
They truly were the most beautiful women in the world, not the kind of factory-line beauty from a plastic surgery nation, but each unique, each breathtaking in her own way.
As passionate music swelled, the Veela began to dance.
Their skin glowed with holy radiance under the moonlight. Their hair, bright and shimmering, floated though no wind stirred. Their expressions were seductive, yet their faces seemed pure as snow…
Their dance was wild, alluring, intoxicating.
In an instant, Link saw it, a haze of pink, ambiguous magic rippling outward from them, spreading over the entire stadium.
From five years old to a hundred, every man in the stands went mad.
Their pupils unfocused, their faces entranced, their eyes glinting with greed. Some even drooled at the corners of their mouths. Arms stretched out, they lurched toward the Veela as if to seize them and hold them close.
Beside them, their female companions tried angrily to pull them back into their seats, only to be shoved away.
By now, they had become slaves to the Veela.
The men in the box were no exception. Harry was nearly over the railing, and Ginny was clinging desperately to his robes.
As for her father and brothers, all scrabbling at the railing like him, she no longer had the strength to bother with them.
Fudge was under the spell too, grinning foolishly, waving his hands in the air as if trying to grab something invisible, like he'd eaten a poisoned mushroom and was seeing fairies. With his pudgy frame, it was unbearably sleazy.
Link was one of the very few men who remained unaffected. His Occlumency, trained to Level 5, could withstand even the Imperius Curse, so naturally he wasn't swayed by Veela.
Emily, however, clearly wasn't reassured.
Desperate not to let those fox spirits steal her fiancé's soul, she pressed her hands tightly over Link's eyes, refusing to let him look.
Link felt a pang of regret.
Even leaving aside their enchantment, the Veela's looks and dancing were truly exquisite. It was clear they had mastered their art.
"Amazing. Your mother's efforts weren't wasted after all, you really are a genius!"
The Bulgarian Minister spoke in English now, voice low but sincere. Afterward he cast a contemptuous glance at Fudge and snorted, "Compared to you, he's nothing but a fat pig. I've no idea how he ever became Minister for Magic."
The fact that he himself wasn't bewitched meant he must have either trained Occlumency to a high level or possessed staggering willpower.
Either way, he was no ordinary figure, strong enough indeed to look down on Fudge.
Seeing that he seemed on good terms with Madam Flamel, Link went along and flattered him with a few words. The Minister's smile immediately grew even broader.
Then the Veela performance ended, and the pink haze of magic dissipated into nothing.
Instantly the stands filled with angry shouts, men furious that the Veela were leaving.
Harry and the rest clearly felt the same, gazing longingly after the retreating figures, reluctant to let go.
Ludo had to step forward to calm the crowd.
It was essential, otherwise, the angry mob might well have started hurling spells at him.
"All right, all right! Next, raise your wands with me to welcome the mascot of the Irish National Team!"
Only after finally soothing the audience did Ludo, mopping his brow, make the announcement.
At once, with a whooshing sound, a massive comet of gold and green streaked into the stadium.
It split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward a different goalpost.
Trailing behind, a rainbow arched slowly into the sky, countless lights flowing, scattering, and finally coalescing into a gigantic shamrock.
With the aid of his enhanced sight spell, Link could clearly see that the shamrock was made up of countless little Irish leprechauns in red waistcoats and tiny beards, each carrying a golden or green lantern.
As Link watched, they began tossing gold coins down onto the pitch.
The stadium exploded again.
Everyone forgot the Veela entirely, madly scrambling for the shower of coins. Some fanatics even let themselves get battered black and blue by the falling coins but still refused to give up.
A few stray coins bounced into the box as well, and everyone there, Harry included, cheered with delight, hurriedly collecting them.
George and Fred were especially excited. In no time, they had gathered an entire bulging sack.
Link picked up a coin, studied it in his palm for a moment, then tossed it casually away, right into George's bag. George grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
The leprechauns' coins were conjured by magic, identical in shape to Galleons but lacking the goblins' unique magical properties, so they had no value as currency.
Most importantly, they would vanish after only a few hours.
Watching the frenzied crowd in the stands, Link sneered.
Bulgaria had offered sex; Ireland had offered money. The two most basic human desires, and naturally a big hit with the audience.
But in Link's eyes, it was no different from some old man's funeral where the family hired a troop of dancers to jig on the coffin.
Not that it wasn't entertaining, but completely out of place, crude and disrespectful.
It only proved how utterly wizarding culture and refinement were crushed beneath the Muggle world.
Inwardly, Link felt nothing but disdain for wizarding vulgarity. Outwardly, though, he kept smiling. When he saw Emily happily gathering coins, he even stooped to help her pick them up.
What could he do? If Emily enjoyed it, he didn't mind playing the fool once in a while.
Besides, he didn't believe for a second that Emily couldn't see through the coins' true nature. Most likely she was only collecting them for the fun of it.
By the time the Irish leprechauns left, the mood in the stadium had changed completely.
Now everyone wore broad smiles.
Understandable, who could scowl after stuffing a bag full of coins?
Ludo Bagman, having scooped up quite a few himself, was grinning from ear to ear, until Fudge shot him a few dirty looks that finally reminded him of his actual job. Hastily, he began announcing the players' entrance, introducing each one with excitement.
And as the figures on broomsticks streaked across the pitch, the match officially began.
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