Coup de Foudre [Fred Weasley] [4]

⚡️ Chapter 8 ⚡️

"And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov!

Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

The speed of the players was incredible – the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. And the sound of the crowd pounded at their eardrums. Vega was quickly following the players with a bated breath, unable to take her eyes off.

Of course, there were many Quidditch matches that Vega had gone to watch with her family, especially Dora and Ted. But as she knew – the final matches were the greatest ever. It was insane.

It made her miss Hogwarts Quidditch matches, seeing the flying by Chasers – free yet impressive.

Vega's special focus was on the Irish Chasers, of course, as they zoomed together – Troy in the centre and slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon their opponent. Troy made as if he was about to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and –

"That's it!" Vega exclaimed as Troy dropped the Quaffle suddenly and right into Moran's open arms.

One of the Bulgarian Beaters – Volkov – swung hard at a passing Budger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path – and she ducked to avoid the Bludger but also dropped the Quaffle alongside –

"Oh, no!" Vega breathed as she clutched onto the railings as she followed the Bulgarian Chaser Levski as he caught the Quaffle when it was dropped. "Get it back, Troy!"

And that was how it went. Vega watched as the Irish Keeper Lynch managed to evade the score by the Bulgarians and the Irish Beater Quigley managed to get the Quaffle away from Levski and into Troy's hand, who immediately tore off to the other corner of the field, right at the Bulgarian posts –

"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers, which included Vega's whole-heartedly. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars and Vega turned to look at him in momentary confusion. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not watching it on live view, then you're going to miss a lot of it!" Vega replied, a bit loudly so her voice could reach Harry over the deafening cheers. "You're watching it in slow mode!"

Back ahead of the two, Irish Chaser Troy was doing a lap of honour around the field to the cheers.

The Leprechauns, who had been watching from the side-lines as well, immediately rose up into the air once again and formed the great, glittering green shamrock. Across the field, the Veela were watching them sulkily. It took a long time for the crowd to come down from the first score's high.

"The Chasers are amazing – that's where Irish's game is," Vega said with a grin to Harry as he furiously dialled his Omnioculars back to normal viewing. "I wish I could play in such a field..."

Ireland's three Chasers worked seamlessly together – their movement were so well-coordinated that they almost appeared to be reading each other's minds as they positioned themselves. The rosette on Vega's chest kept squeaking out their names excitedly: 'Troy – Mullet – Moran!'

And within just about 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 still faster, but more brutal.

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 of the night.