The Crowd Controller

The Crowd Controller

"Mr. Jepson, please don't do that!" Polito Pentenov complained. " No magic allowed here. You are now on muggle land!"

Polito was a small but alert, dark eyed man, about sixty years of age. He had thick shaggy-black eyebrows and a strong, pugnacious face with a straggly white beard that clearly needed a good trim.

The Quidditch World Cup between Bulgaria and Ireland was starting soon and the Ministry of Magic sent Polito, to deal with problems that might occur.

Karl Jepson. However, ignored Polito's warning and continued waving his wand.

"Don't be stupid Polito," scowled Karl. "How am I going to cook without fire?"

"Use matches, you old LOG!" shouted Polito, already losing his temper.

"What are matches?"

"Never mind, let me show you."

But Polito was having no luck at all in lighting the fire. In about a minute or two, splintered matches littered the ground. Both Karl and Polito began to lose patients.

"Let me use my wand," Karl whispered. "No one will know."

"No....you fool, wait till I'm far bac..........." Polito shouted, but it was too late. Karl had accidentally conjured a fire spell on Polito's thick hair.

Polito ran around the field, like a mad dog. He shrieked like a little girl, hitting his head, trying to put out the fire.

"Excuse me, sir!" said a squeaky voice beside Polito. An elf tried to mop the ground where he was standing. Brown and dirty water sloshed into his brand new shoes.

"Hey!" Polito yelled, feeling frustrated.

He took the long mop from the elf and broke it into two. The elf popped out of sight and appeared with another identical mop and continued mopping as though nothing had happened.

There were shrieks of delight from a group of children nearby.

"Wow!" shouted one of them. "Look at this hair!"

Feeling angry at the elf, Polito had completely forgotten to put out the fire on his hair. Again, he ran round the field, shrieking and shouting for aid. No one really helped because Polito was running far too quick for anyone to help. Suddenly, he got a brilliant idea.

"Accio!"

A door of an orange tent opened and closed behind him, and he turned to find a large, brown pail, hit him hard across the face. Polito fell into a pond, full of angry ducks. Polito rose out but he was completely soaked to his skin. Several group of wizards and witches was overcome with such a strong fit of giggle that they fell, banging on the ground.

"How long before the Quidditch starts?" asked Polito, after drying himself with his wand.

"Three more hours, Polito," answered Maven Rishes, who also worked in the same department as Polito.

"I sometimes think that I'm living in a mad house," added Polito. "What are those people doing? Are they practicing high jumps or something?"

A couple of yards away, a group of wizards were on their brooms, wrestling each other, chasing a golden snitch.

"Oh no, look at Archie, he's wearing the wrong muggle clothes again." said Maven, when he saw a very old wizard, who was wearing a long flowery nightgown.

"I'll take care of him, Maven," offered Polito. "You take the children on brooms."

Both agreed and parted. Polito had a hard time convincing Archie to wear a pair of pinstriped trousers, but it soon paid off.

After a while, Polito complained again.

"Must they always talk of their voices about magic?" said Polito in exasperation. "And will someone tell that dog if I fall over him again, I will introduce my shoes to him!"

"Calm down," said Maven, after dealings with a couple of Bulgarians. "The Ministry really can't spare anyone right now."

Out of nowhere, Barty Crouch had just apparated beside Maven. He was an elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie.

"Why do I smell ducks here?" he asked. "Anyway, A couple of witches complained to me about some crazy woman, screaming at the top of her voice. Mad, completely mad they say."

Maven choked, trying no to laugh. Polito just went red but kept quiet.

"Polito, I need you and Maven in the stadium." said Mr. Crouch. "The Leprechauns and Veela had declared war on each other. It's a riot in there."

Polito and Maven nodded and apparated to the stadium. In the stadium, the war had already begun. Instead of using guns or any other weapons, pies were used. It was a huge food fight. The Veela simply threw the pies towards their opponents but the Leprechauns rose to the air, forming a giant cannon and fired dozens of pies. Pies were flying aimlessly around. Both Polito and Maven had to hide to avoid being hit by pies themselves. When there were none "ammunition" left, both front start using chairs instead. It was a nasty sight as food and banners laid everywhere in the stadium. The "war" finally ended after receiving help from other wizards in the Ministry.

"Look at this place!" complained Polito. " The match is going to start in an hour. What are we going to do?"

"Well, did you bring a mop?" asked Maven.