Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Soon enough, the match kicked off with a burst of energy that had everyone on the edge of their seats. The Quaffle was passed back and forth with lightning speed as the Irish Chasers skillfully outmaneuvered their Bulgarian counterparts. The crowd's cheers grew louder, matching the intensity on the field.
As the match continue, it was a battle betweem the players, each of them playing dirtier that ever. Even the mascots started fighting each other, the crowd alternated between watching the heated Quidditch match above and the bizarre confrontation below. It was a spectacle within a spectacle, making the already thrilling event even more entertaining.
As the match reached new heights of intensity, Beatrice could hardly keep up. She leaned forward in her seat, her eyes darting between the Quaffle, the Seekers, and the chaos down below. Ireland had scored again, and the leprechauns burst into another round of golden coin showers, sending a ripple of excitement through the Irish supporters.
Krum had dived in a sharp, steep plunge, sending the stadium into an uproar. Draco stood up, nearly tipping over as he shouted at the top of his lungs, — KRUM! THAT'S IT! GET THE SNITCH! —
Beatrice couldn't help but grin at Draco's excitement. She exchanged a glance with Theo, who smirked. — I'm surprised he hasn't jumped onto the field himself. —
The crowd was now divided between watching Krum's dive and the ongoing leprechaun-veela chaos. It was almost too much to keep track of, but somehow, Beatrice managed, cheering loudly whenever Ireland made a move.
— Come on, Lynch! You've got this! — Theo yelled, joining Beatrice in their Ireland support, though they were clearly outnumbered in their group.
Daphne, who had been quiet up until now, rolled her eyes dramatically. — This is just ridiculous. Mascots and magic tricks, when are we actually going to see some real Quidditch? —
Blaise, who had been mesmerized by the veelas earlier, raised an eyebrow. — You might want to look again, Pans. Krum's about to pull off something insane. —
True to Blaise's words, Krum executed a flawless Wronski Feint, causing Lynch to plummet, headfirst, into the ground, missing the Snitch by inches. The crowd let out a collective gasp as Lynch crashed hard, and yet, almost immediately, the Irish Chasers scored again, widening their lead. Beatrice and Theo erupted into cheers, much to Draco's dismay.
— Oh, come on, Ireland's winning anyway. — Beatrice teased, throwing a look at her cousin, who was glaring at her as if her support for Ireland was some kind of personal betrayal.
— You wait. — Draco shot back. — Krum's going to catch the Snitch. Just watch. —
Beatrice smirked but kept her eyes on the game. The leprechauns were still showering the stadium with gold, but even that wasn't enough to distract from the dazzling display of Quidditch above. Every move Krum made seemed calculated, deadly focused. The game was approaching its peak, and the excitement in the air was palpable.
