𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 → 𝒸. 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎

⤷ 05| REUNIONS

"A twenty," Harry corrected him in an undertone so that June had to lean in to catch it.

"Ah yes, so it is . . . I don't know, these little bits of paper . . ."

"You foreign?" Mr Roberts said, as Arthur returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" Arthur repeated, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Mr Roberts said, scrutinizing Uncle Arthur closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" Arthur said nervously.

Mr Roberts rummaged around one a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up . . ."

"Is that right?" Arthur said, his hand held out for his change but Mr Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" Arthur said anxiously.

"It's like some sort of . . . I dunno . . . like some sort of rally," Mr Roberts said. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts.

Instantly, Mr Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. June recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr Roberts said placidly to Arthur. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," Arthur said.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them towards the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted; his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Arthur, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?" Ginny said, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," Arthur said, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's a always been a bit . . . well . . . lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather-vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that June could hardly be surprised that Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravergant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little further on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.