𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙧

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ

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Jamie waited for everyone to get up again and looked around. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of the misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles... Or at least had tried to...

"Morning, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily.

"Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some... We've been here all night... You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite... Weasley... Weasley...." He consulted his parchment list.

"About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site managers called Mr. Roberts. Diggory... Second field... Ask for Mr. Payne and Potter... You're with Mr. Roberts too."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

Jamie dragged himself across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Jamie could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon.

"So... Jamie," said someone and the boy raised his eyes to Remus Lupin, who was smiling at him once again.

"Anxious for the game?" asked him and the boy merely nodded.

"Who you'll be supporting?" he insisted and Jay eyed the man suspiciously.

"Ireland," he answered and the man nodded.

"Interesting. Your mother told me you're a fan of Krum. Shouldn't you be supporting Bulgaria then?" questioned the man.

"I'm not his fan; we just go to school together," responded Jamie.

"Oh, right. You go to Durmstrang, don't you?" asked Remus.

"Yes," spoke the boy.

"He's a good flyer, isn't he?" said the man and Jay snorted a laugh.

"Good is a very humble way to put it. He's amazing," stated the boy.

Finally, they approached a cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Jay knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts.

"And who're you?"

"Weasley and Potter - three tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door.

"You've got space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and Lily walked towards him.