After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

"What the hell is this, George!" Mrs. Weasley picked up something that flew into her hands. There was a line of small words faintly written on it. "WN Wunderkind?"

"What is this!" Mrs. Weasley angrily threw the thing in her hand to the ground, grabbed George's ear and dragged him into the bedroom.

"No, Mom, it's just a little invention, Fred's idea!" George grimaced in pain, of course he betrayed his good brother.

"Didn't you say you didn't know, Fred?" Mrs. Weasley didn't let go of Fred, who looked as pale as death. She grabbed his ear and locked him in the bedroom.

"Just stay in there and be well, this time..." Mrs. Weasley originally wanted to stop them from watching the World Cup, but when she thought about how much the Weasley twins were looking forward to it, she couldn't say it.

"Mrs. Weasley, I know about those little gadgets. They just fly and have no lethality. George and Fred developed them just to give them to you as a birthday present."

Lamia immediately understood what the "N" stood for.

"Really?" Mrs. Weasley was obviously persuaded, but she hesitated.

Lamia stepped forward, put her arm around Mrs. Weasley's shoulders, and led her into the bedroom, which wasn't even locked, and opened the door.

"Mom, what Lamia said is true. They can just fly and glow at night at most. We really don't have any bad intentions!" George didn't know what he had done in there. Now there were tears in his eyes, which moved Mrs. Weasley very much.

"George, Fred, come here—" Mrs. Weasley held one in each arm, but her sons were so large that she had to stand on tiptoe. "—Mother was wrong. I'm so sorry."

When they finally left, Mrs. Weasley smiled as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek.

"Goodbye, and have fun," said Mrs. Weasley. "Have fun!" she called after the twins as they retreated, who waved but said nothing.

Then, Mr. Weasley took Lamia and several other children and walked behind George and Fred.

The air was cold, the moon was still high in the sky, and only a faint gray-green tint appeared on the horizon to their right, indicating that dawn was gradually approaching.

Lamia was actually not very interested in Quidditch. She preferred wizard duels, but the atmosphere of the Weasley family completely aroused her. For some reason, Lamia also began to look forward to the upcoming Quidditch match.

"Where are we going now?" After walking for a while, the extremely excited Harry couldn't help but ask. They have been walking for such a long time, do they really have to walk there?

"We'll be there soon." Mr. Weasley said mysteriously, "Harry, let me ask you, do you know how we can successfully host such a grand Quidditch tournament without attracting the attention of Muggles?"

"Perhaps, we can stagger the time?"

Lamia was also thinking about this problem. It was said that there would be about 100,000 wizards participating. Where could there be such a large venue? Muggles didn't know about it yet?

"You're quite right, but the organization is going to be very difficult," Mr. Weasley sighed. "The main problem is that there are about 100,000 wizards coming to watch the World Cup, and we certainly can't find a magical venue that can accommodate so many people."

"There are places Muggles can't enter, but imagine how we could possibly cram a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley? First of all, of course, we'd have to stagger everyone's arrival times."

Mr. Weasley spoke haltingly.

"Those with cheaper tickets had to arrive two weeks in advance. Some used Muggle transportation, but the number was limited. We couldn't allow too many people to fill up Muggle buses and trains – don't forget, wizards from all over the world were coming.

Of course, some people still use Apparition, but we have to provide some safe place for them to appear, away from all Muggles.

I figured there might be a forest nearby that could be used as a landing point for Apparition. For those who didn't want to or couldn't Apparate, we used Portkeys, which were designed to transport wizards from one place to another within a specified timeframe, and could even transport large groups at once if necessary.

Two hundred Portkeys have been placed across Britain, and the nearest one is at the top of Stoat Hill, which is where we are heading now."

Mr. Weasley pointed ahead, where a large shadow rose behind the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"What's that?" Harry asked the question everyone wanted to know.

"Oh, all sorts of things," said Mr. Weasley. "Of course, they're all inconspicuous-looking things, so Muggles won't pick them up and mess with them - they'll think they've been discarded."

They walked with difficulty along the dark and damp path towards the village. There was silence all around, and only the sound of their own footsteps could be heard.

As they passed through the village, the sky gradually brightened, and the original darkness gradually turned into a deep blue. Everyone with them was frozen, but Lamia was fine. After all, she had always been at this temperature, so she refused the hot water offered by Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

They began to climb Stoat Mountain, and from time to time they stumbled over hidden rabbit holes or slipped on dark, slimy grass blades, unable to breathe evenly enough to speak.

Lamia didn't feel very tired. It seemed like only a moment had passed before they reached the top of the mountain. Looking back, Harry was so tired that he collapsed on the ground, and the others were not much better off.

"Well," gasped Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his jersey, "yes, we're on time - ten minutes to go."

Hermione was the last to reach the top of the mountain, one hand clutching the collar of her clothes tightly.

"Now we just have to find the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, putting on his glasses and squinting at the ground. "It's not very big. Look for it quickly."

Everyone dispersed and searched separately, but after they had searched for just two or three minutes, a shout broke the quiet night sky.

"Here it is, Arthur! Come here, we've got it!"

On the other side of the mountaintop, two tall figures stood out against the starry night sky.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling and striding towards the man who had called him, followed by the others.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a red-faced wizard with a short brown beard, who held something in his other hand that looked like a moldy old boot.

"Let me introduce you all. This is Amos Diggory," said Mr. Weasley. "He works at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. This is his son Cedric. I trust you all know him, don't you?"

Lamia looked over and saw that on the empty mountain top, the cold wind had made the tip of the boy's nose red.

Cedric Diggory was about seventeen years old, a very handsome boy, at least the second most handsome Lamia had ever seen.

"Hi, y'all," Cedric said, turning to look at everyone, his eyes landing on Lamia's hair.

Everyone said "Hi" but Fred and George said nothing, just nodded. The twins hadn't quite forgiven Cedric for defeating their Gryffindor team in their first Quidditch match the previous year.

"Is that a long way to come, Arthur?" asked Cedric's father.

"That's not bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just over there on the other side of the village. How about you?"

"Up at two, weren't they, Ced? Honestly, I wish he'd passed his Apparition test sooner. But there's nothing to complain about. It's the Quidditch World Cup, and you can't miss it, even if it costs a ton of Galleons—and, indeed, the tickets cost that much."

But I finally managed it, it wasn't too difficult." Amos Diggory looked kindly at the three Weasley brothers, Harry, Lamia, Hermione and Ginny around him, "Arthur, are these all your children?"

"Oh, no, the one with red hair is it." Mr. Weasley pointed out his children one by one. "The others are Ron's friends. This is Lamia, this is Harry, and this is Hermione."

Lamia smiled kindly, noticing Cedric's gaze on her and looking back curiously.

"Uh, hello, hello everyone." Cedric suddenly met those unreadable red pupils and quickly looked away.

Harry was used to people staring at him curiously when they first met him, and used to their eyes immediately turning to the scar on his forehead, but this time, Cedric didn't notice the scar.

Harry looked over with curiosity and amusement, but found that Cedric kept tilting his head, as if hiding from something.

"Yes, yes, Thad mentioned you before." Amos looked at Harry. "He talked about last year's match... He can definitely tell his grandchildren about it - he beat Harry Potter!"

Harry didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing. Fred and George frowned again, and Ced looked a little embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered under his breath. "I told you...it was an accident..."

"Yeah, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Amos exclaimed affectionately, patting his son on the back. "Our Ced is always so modest and a gentleman, but the winner is always the best. I'm sure Harry would say the same, wouldn't he? One fell off his broom and the other stayed on. You don't need a genius to tell who's the better flyer!"

"It's almost time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, taking out his pocket watch again. "Do you know who else we're waiting for, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods were there a week ago, and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There's nobody else in the area, is there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Well, one minute left. We should all be in our places."

He turned and looked at them.

"You just touch the Portkey, that's it, just one finger—"

With all their heavy, bulging knapsacks on their backs, the nine of them had difficulty gathering around the old boot held by Amos Diggory.