Although the Football World Cup is worth reminiscing, the upcoming Quidditch World Cup is what truly excites Mr. Granger.
After all, even the President of the United States may not necessarily be invited to the Wizarding World's Quidditch World Cup.
Unless their family has a child who can do magic.
As VIP guests in the box, the group displayed an excellent sense of relaxation. In short, the theme was relaxation, and they only set off leisurely after lunch.
The carriage with the Traceless Stretching Spell naturally amazed Mr. Granger, even though he had already been shocked once by the small Traceless Stretching Spell on the car before.
"If this could be applied to car sales, it would be sold out," Mr. Granger commented seriously.
It's indeed true, if a small car could be transformed with the Traceless Stretching Spell—not too large, even if it could be transformed to the size of a camper—it would be sold out, making money until you're exhausted.
"But unfortunately, Askin," Mr. Weasley said regretfully, "the Ministry of Magic doesn't allow us to modify cars. If it were allowed, it might be quite a decent income."
"How can you say it's decent?" Mr. Granger stroked the leather seat, "I'm sure it would sell out, even the orders from the British Royal Family would come flooding in, the Muggle World would go crazy over it!"
It seems Mr. Granger really wants to pursue this business, even Ron could see that.
"I agree," the Weasley Twins said in a barely audible voice, "if our little gadgets could be sold in the Muggle World, it would spark a storm—we would become the most popular figures in the world!"
Of course, the Weasley Twins are not focused on making money, but rather on becoming popular figures in the world.
After all, who could refuse to be the eternal king in kids' hearts?
This is something they would never dare to let Mrs. Weasley hear, otherwise, they would inevitably get a scolding, and have their orders confiscated.
As well as all their tools of the trade.
"Kids," Mr. Weasley twisted in his seat after sitting down and said, "What do you plan to eat tonight? There are many snack stalls at the World Cup venue, and you can choose whatever you like—just tell me what you want to eat, and I'll give you money…"
"Long live Dad!" Ron raised his right hand first, at a forty-five degree angle.
This phrase was learned from television, specifically from watching TV at the Hermione family's house.
As the saying goes, learning good things is not easy, but learning bad things is a slip, and Ron more or less showed this state.
"That's not a good gesture, Ron," Mr. Granger turned back and said, "At least don't use it in the Muggle World, or it will cause unnecessary trouble."
"Why?" Ron's eyes revealed a clear idiocy.
"Don't ask why!" Hermione whispered fiercely, "There's no why, just do it!"
Sitting in the back, Harry laughed quietly and turned to wave at Cassandra next to him.
Cassandra looked at him in confusion, not understanding his intention.
"Come here," Harry said softly.
Cassandra leaned over, and Harry whispered in her ear, "I have every reason to suspect that, in the future when they kiss, Hermione will guide Ron to do this or that, Ron will ask why, and Hermione will scold him 'Don't ask why'."
Hearing Harry's mischievous speculation, Cassandra couldn't hold back, lowered her head, and snickered.
Then she reached out and lightly poked Harry's thigh.
"You're so naughty," she glanced at Harry.
Harry chuckled, and his hand naturally rested on Cassandra's thigh.
Today, Cassandra was wearing a long skirt and a small cardigan on top. In terms of traditional matching principles, this outfit was extremely eccentric.
But...
In the world of fashion anomalies, don't ask too many questions; looking good means doing whatever you want, even draping a burlap sack would be suspected of being high-end.
However, with Cassandra's status, she would never casually drape a burlap sack.
After about two hours on the carriage, the altitude gradually decreased, and finally landed smoothly on the ground.
"We've arrived, children," Little Sirius said to the group, who were still savoring the journey.
Harry stood up and followed the people in front of him off the carriage.
They arrived at a place that resembled a large, desolate, mist-covered marshland. In front of them stood two exhausted, grim-looking wizards, one holding a large gold watch, the other holding a thick roll of parchment and a feather pen.
Both were dressed like Muggles, but looked somewhat out of place: the man with the gold watch wore a coarse tweed suit, but had long rubber boots reaching his thighs; his colleague wore a Scottish Highland-style kilt and a South American poncho.
Luckily, they were not completely mismatched.
Harry stood in the back, not paying attention to what Mr. Weasley was chatting with them about.
He just focused on looking around, the place seemed incredibly barren.
"So, the World Cup is held here?" Fred shaded his eyes with his hand and asked George without turning his head, "Sometimes I really wonder if the Ministry of Magic is reliable—hey, Percy, what do you use to entertain international friends, you cheeky fellow!"