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

Twinkle looked at the edge of the box in fear again and quickly covered her eyes completely, Lamia turned around and looked at everyone.

"So those are house-elves?" Ron whispered. "Queer little creatures, aren't they?"

"Don't say that, Ron!" Hermione slapped Ron on the back with the thick competition instructions in her hand. "They are really pitiful, you can't say that!"

Lamia nodded in agreement. These elves didn't even get paid and had to work all day. No one was more pitiful than them.

Ron pursed his lips, but in the end said nothing, continuing to look into the field with his binoculars. "They've been like this for a long time, it's not my fault..."

Hermione didn't hear Ron's mumbling; she was eagerly flipping through her velvet, fringed booklet of the tournament.

But Lamia heard it. She looked at Ron deeply, then moved her fingers slightly.

"Hey? Why can't I see anything through my telescope, Harry? How about yours? Why can't I see anything through mine?"

Ron turned the telescope over and over in panic, but couldn't find the cause.

He attributed this to his bad luck in buying a defective product. Ron sat in his seat sullenly, watching the Weasley twins enviously fiddling with the telescope in front of him.

"What's the big deal? I've just seen it all." Ron pouted and pretended to be indifferent, but his eyes never left the telescope.

"Lamia! Look!"

Hermione said loudly, holding the instruction manual in front of Lamia:

"There will be a performance by the team mascots before the game," she read aloud.

"Oh, that's always worth seeing." Mr. Weasley turned his head. "You know, the national teams bring some rare animals from their countries to put on a show here."

Lamia was also looking forward to it. Through her previous interactions with Newt, she had already fallen in love with those strange creatures.

Lamia regained her interest and looked towards the field below.

Over the next half hour, the box they were in gradually filled with people. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously wizards of high status.

Percy repeatedly stood up so hastily that he looked like he was sitting on the back of a prickly porcupine, and when the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

Embarrassed, he repaired the lens with his wand and then sat blankly in his seat.

Cornelius Fudge seemed to feel that he was very familiar with Harry. After a simple nod to Percy, he pointed at Harry and introduced him to the wizards around him. Harry found it difficult to adapt to this scene for a while, and his eyes were full of help when he looked at Lamia.

But Lamia was helpless and spread her hands, leaving Harry to handle it himself. They couldn't hide this time.

"Harry Potter, you know," Cornelius Fudge shouted to the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, who was dressed in gorgeous black velvet robes trimmed with gold and who appeared to understand no English. "Harry Potter... Oh, come to think of it, you should know who he is... The boy who escaped death from You-Know-Who... You must know who he is -"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly saw the scar on Harry's forehead, and immediately pointed at it excitedly, mumbling a bunch of words loudly.

"I knew he'd get it," Fudge said wearily to Harry. "I'm not very good with languages, and for things like this, Barty Crouch is what you need. Ah, I see his house-elf has saved a seat for him... How thoughtful, these Bulgarians always try to swindle the best seats... Ah, here comes Lucius!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned their heads immediately, but Lamia didn't move. However, from the corner of her eye, she could still see that squeezed into the three empty seats in the second row behind Mr. Weasley were none other than the original owners of the house-elf Dobby: Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco, and a woman.

Lamia looked over as if she sensed something, and happened to meet Narcissa's gaze. Her eyes were calm and she looked at Lamia as if she were a stranger.

But Lamia felt very familiar. Narcissa was much more mature than she had seen in her dreams, and seemed gentler, but she still had that disgusted expression, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

Lamia suddenly felt a little funny. Narcissa really hadn't changed at all, she was still the same.

Perhaps Lamia's look was too revealing, and Narcissa frowned in displeasure.

Lamia could only retract her gaze and continue looking straight ahead.

But that’s not the end of it.

"Ah, Fudge," Lucius said, extending his hand as he passed the Minister of Magic. "Hello. I suppose you haven't met my wife, Narcissa, yet? And our son, Draco."

"Hello, hello," said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "May I introduce you to Mr. Oberanski - Mr. Obalański - the Bulgarian Minister for Magic. Never mind, he wouldn't understand a thing I'm saying anyway. Let me see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, don't you?"

It was a tense moment, and as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy stared at each other, Harry remembered vividly the last time they had met: it had been in Flourish and Blotts.

Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes glanced past Mr. Weasley back and forth across the rows of seats.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he whispered, "what did you sell to get that seat in the top box? Surely your possessions aren't worth that much, are they?"

Fudge didn't understand what he was saying, or maybe he was pretending not to understand, but Lamia thought it was the latter because Fudge's eyes looked guilty.

He said, "Lucius has recently made a large donation to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He is my guest, Arthur."

"Oh - that's great," said Mr. Weasley with a forced smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes swept over Hermione, and Hermione blushed slightly, but she looked at him without flinching. The Malfoy family has always been proud of being pure-blooded wizards, which means that they believe that the descendants of Muggles, such as Hermione, are inferior.

However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy did not dare to say anything out of line. He nodded sarcastically to Mr. Weasley and continued to walk towards his seat.