No one's POV
Harry and Kyle helped the others back to their feet as he chuckled lightly.
"A word to anyone and there will be consequences." Daphne growled to him as Harry just chuckled.
They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor.
In front of them was a pair of tired grumpy-lookimg wizards, one of whom was holding a large roll of parchment and a quill.
Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly, the man with a watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes, his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.
"Morning, Basil." Mr Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside.him, Harry could see an old newspaper, am empty drinks can and a punctured football.
"Hello there, Arthur." Basil said 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 bit party coming in from the Black Forest at the five fifteen, hang on, I'll find your campsite...Weasley....Weasley...there, first field you come to, Site manager's called Mr. Roberts, Diggory...second field...ask for Mr. Payne."
"Thanks, Basil." Mr. Weasley said, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.
They set of across the deserted moor, unstable to make out much through the mist.
After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view.
Beyond it, Harry could make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon.
They said goodbye to the Diggorys, and approached the cottage door.
A man standing in the doorway, looking at out at the tents.
Harry 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!" Mr Weasley said brightly.
"Morning." The Muggle said.
"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"
"Aye, I would." Mr. Roberts said.
"And who're you?"
"Weasley -two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"
"Aye." Mr Roberts said, consulting a list tacked to the door.
"You've got a space by the wood there, just one night?"
"That's it." Mr. Weasley said.
"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts said.
"Ah - right - certainly -" Mr. Weasley said.
He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Kyle and Harry towards him.
"Help me, boys." He muttered, pulling out a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and started to peel the notes apart.
"This one's a - a - a ten?" Ah yes, k see the little number now...so this is a five?"
"A twenty." Kyle said while Harry turned to Mr. Roberts and glared hard at him as he noticed him trying to stare as Mr. Roberts turned away.
"Ah yes, so it is...I don't know, these little bits of paper...."
"You foreign?" Mr. Roberts asked, as Mr Weasley returned with the correct notes.
"Foreign?" Mr Weasley repeated, puzzled.
"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money." Mr Roberts said, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely.
"I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."
"Did they really?" Mr. Weasley said nervously.
Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.
"Never been this crowded." He said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again.
"Hundreds of pre-bookings, price usually just turn up..."
"Is that right?" Mr Weasley 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?" Mr. Weasley asked 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 the moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared next to Mr. Roberts out of thin air.
"Obliviate!" He said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.
Instantly, Mr. Robert's eyes slide out of focus, his brows unknitted and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face.
Harry recognised the symptoms of one who just had his memory modified.
"A map of the campsite for you." Mr Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley.
"And your change."
"Thanks very much." Mr. Weasley said.
The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite.
He looked exhausted, his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple under his eyes.
Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley.
"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 asked, looking surprised.
"He should know better than to talk about Bludgers neat Muggles, shouldn't he?"
"He should." Mr Weasley said, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite.
"But Ludo's 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 just slipped up adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather-vanes.
However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious.
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