𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸, aleksander krum

˗ˋ 07

CHAPTER SEVEN
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH THE MATCH
COMES TO AN END

. . .

IT WAS UNLIKE ANYTHING THAT EVIE HAD EVER SEEN.

The intensity of it all was astounding, and as the players darted across the pitch it almost felt as if she was right there along them, Omnioculars magically following them with smooth, easy movements. Her heart pounding in her ears, voice hoarse after all the cheering.

Within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters. The match became faster, but more brutal not long after the beginnings. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

Despite supporting Ireland, Evie couldn't quite help but applaud alongside the boy besides her as she watched Ivanova celebrate. She couldn't quite believe she was there, it felt wholly surreal to even watch the match. She might have pushed away Oliver Wood's suggestion of her playing professionally when she was older, but just watching it now made her feel as if that option was more and more likely.

Ireland just kept scoring goals, one after another, amassing points after points. The match had become tougher  Krum's use of the Wronski Defensive Feint causing Lynch to crash into the floor and paramedics rush onto the pitch. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching theQuaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Evie didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast told them it had been a foul.

Evie was right on the edge of her seat, one hand clutching the Omnioculars and the other holding onto the railing on the box. 

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

"Flint's done that far too many times." Evie leant towards Harry, who was nodding along to Bagman's commentary. In fact, it seemed to have happened in every single match they had seen Slytherin play, whether they were playing opposite them or in the stands. 

"Did that to you once, didn't he?" Harry mentioned, and Evie paused, before nodding. 

"Yeah - in the match we finally had against them last year." She replied. "I got too close the goal before scoring, sent it straight past him and him knocked me off." Evie remembered it all too well; the sudden shock of hanging off her broom before remembering that she was actually a good player and righted herself on it.  

Their attention turned back to the match, watching in amusement as Mostafa became completely entranced by the dancing veela, flexing his muscles and smoothing his admittedly rather impressive mustache. Eventually a mediwizard had come tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins, much to the amusement of the crowds.