UNTOLD | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 3)

[ 05 ]

The brutal game of the Quidditch World Cup continued deeper into the nights. Their match was fuelled by rage and cheers from the crowds. The Irish team was now way ahead of the Bulgarians with a score of hundred and twenty— no— hundred and thirty to ten. Things took a harsh turn when the players started getting dirtier, their tactics growing even more brutal as their urge to win was overpowering them all. 

"Get it together!" Shouted Ron furiously, clearly upset about how the Bulgarian team was doing. This seemed to have worked, or perhaps it was a coincidence as the Seeker from the scarlet red team, Zograf elbows Mullet purposely, sending her and the Quaffle she was holding backwards, almost knocking her out of her broom. Until a Bludger crashes into her, hurling her downwards. "FOUL!" the referee announced and Zograf's lips flattened into a thin line as he receives a glare from Krum. 

The night deepens as the game of ferocious Quidditch. Both sides' Beaters— Connolly, Quigley and Pyotr, Ivan displayed zero levels of mercy for the opponent team. Ivan on the other hand was swinging his club at every Bludger whether it was within their zone or just crashing about the air, not caring if it had hit a spectator. There were almost two times where the Bludger had burst through the lower stands, earning a loud piercing cry from an unknown victim. Needless to say, they were immediately treated, the trauma of watching a heavy ball speeding towards your face was not something to be overlooked. It was horrifying, not knowing whether it may smash through your head.

Aine winces as the sound of the whooshing Bludger soared upwards before Dimitrov shot it straight to Moran who dodges at the nick of time. "DIMITROV'S SERIOUSLY SKINNING MORAN— WILL THERE BE BLOODSHED— AND OHHH!! HE'S COLLIDED INTO MORAN!! AND— THAT'S A FOUL!"

There were cheers from the Irish, and grunts from the Bulgarian stands. At this point, it was as if the Bulgarians were wishing for more penalties. 

"LEVSKI! DIMITROV— AND TO MORAN! THERE'S TROY—"

Aine's ears perked up immediately at the Chaser's name being called, her eyes zooming around to catch sight of Troy who grasped tightly onto the Quaffle, before Ivanova and Dimitrov tackled him, snatching the Quaffle from him and speeding past the stands. "THE QUAFFLE HAS BEEN STOLEN! IT'S ON IVANOVA! NO— MULLET'S GOTTEN IT BACK! HE RUSHES THROUGH LEVSKI! WILL HE MAKE THE GOAL? WILL HE—"

Ginny gulps, frowning as she peeks through the Ominoculars to see the Irish Chaser picking his speed and flying above the Bulgarian's Chaser before she beams, "He's got it!" she tells Aine who's mouth curled upwards, constantly cheering.

"THE IRISH SCORES ANOTHER!"

"WOOOOHOOOO~!!!" The girls and the Weasley twins cheered loudly, Fred and George waving the Irish team's flag proudly as Aine, Ginny and Hermione high-fived each other simultaneously, clapping their hands.

The game recommenced immediately, and the Quaffle was taken by Levski before passing to Dimitrov. "YEAHHHHHH!!" Harry and Ron applauded, but soon their smile fell as they watch Quigley swing the Bludger passing by, and they watched as it hit with full force on Krum's face. He wasn't able to see that coming and a gruesome crack sound played on the speakers. Everyone groans, "THAT'S RUBBISH!" Ron cries out loud, "FOUL! FOUL! FOUL!"

"Oh, Ronald," Aine turns to her friend, "It wasn't a foul!" she whispers to him loudly, her hand covering her words as she watches Ron turn red, sulking. 

There was blood running down Krum's nose, dripping onto his already red uniform. He cooly rubs it away, eyes threatening to roll back, but he squints at the snitch that was just in front of him. His vision was closing in, and it was frustrating him so much because he was now seeing two snitches.