After literally witnessing Mr. Roberts get obliviated, we 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 bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that I could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious.
Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance.
I'm calling it, that's definitely Draco's
A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.
"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."
We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read weezly.
"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right,"
He said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult. . . . Muggles do it all the time. . . . Here, Harry,Lia, where do you reckon we should start?"
Mr Weasley looked at us, as if we've been camping our whole lives. I simply shrugged and went aside with the twins. letting Harry and Hermione do the laborious job.
"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."
I bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt my jaw drop. I had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mrs. Figg's house: There were crocheted covers on the mismatched
chairs and a strong smell of cats.
Been in Hogwarts for three years now and still, magic never fails to amaze me.
" I love magic " I heard Harry gape at the tent wildly looking around
" Me too "
"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom.
"I borrowed this from Perkins at the of
fice. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."
He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water. . . ."
"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. "It's on
the other side of the field."
"Well, why don't you, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then" — Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans — "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"
"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just —"
"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"
I sighed and followed Hermione and Ginny into the girls tent, which was slightly smaller
Noticing the wicked grin adorning Ginny's face, I sprained towards the only bed with no bunks.
With some pushing and kicking. I can proudly say that I was sleeping on the top bunk with Hermione.
I'm such a nice person to let Ginny have the bed to herself.
" Wait! I'll come along " I called out to the trio as they were leaving " but, I'll ditch you halfway"
Hermione laughed and handed me a kettle she was holding.
And as I had said, I did ditch them halfway through.
Remembering the path we came from, I walked up to the tent with peacocks.
And to my luck, I saw Draco.
I fucking knew it.
" Dray! " I enthusiastically waved at the boy who waved back.
Draco had definitely hit puberty in the holidays. He stood tall and his grey eyes shinning brightly as he smiled.
Behind Draco came another figure who quite literally stopped my heart.
Theo looked so damn good.
For some reason, I noticed the way his messy brown hair shined with the bright sun and his red tracksuit that rather clashed with his blue eyes.
I noticed the dimpled smile he had on his face
And the way the sides of his mouth crinkled as he smiled
" Hey, Theooo" I smiled and hugged him. Loving, the way he had to get on his toes to hug me back.
" Look, I'm taller " I teased him, patting his head.
" Seems like " He grinned at me.
I hadn't really thought about him the entire summer as I was quite busy with the Sirius situation.
But now that he was in front of me.
Boy, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
" Wanna come in? Father's not inside" Draco coughed catching our attention
" Sure, I do wanna pet a peacock"
I marveled at the architecture of the tent.
I mean, I'd live in a tent my whole life if it looked like this.
The tent had five master bedrooms and a huge hall.
" Draco, who's this? " I stopped gaping when I heard a woman's voice.
The woman in front of me was tall, slim, beautiful and very pale, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a clear, cold voice.
" Mother, this is Camelia Potter" he smiled
Mother? Narcissa?
" Good morning ma'am" I greeted as she nodded
" You know your father, Draco " she frowned " it's best if we get you out soon " she placed her dainty hand on my shoulder
" It was pleasant meeting you Miss Potter. My son speaks highly of you" she gave me a small smile as she left the hall.
The rest of the tour was spent rather hurriedly.
I didn't even get to pet the peacocks.
Draco kept apologising the entire time and I had to keep saying that it was alright.
As a compensation though, I had them take a pic.
I made my way back to the Weasley's
Who were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages.
Sirius and Remus were already there so I simply went to them.
The two of them were sitting with two more red heads, whom I didn't really recognise.
" Ah- you must be the other Potter. I'm Charlie and that's Bill " The scared red shook my hand
" So you tame dragons? " I squealed
Charlie laughed and nodded, agreeing to tell me everything about his time with the dragons
Just then, Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding towards us.
"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"
Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person I had seen so far.
He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed, but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.
"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.
"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming . . . and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements. . . . Not much for me to do!"
Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.
Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.
"Ah — yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry — and this is Fred — no, George, sorry — that's Fred — Bill, Charlie, Ron — my daughter, Ginny — Sirius - Remus ,and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger and the Potter twins "
Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard about us, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on our foreheads.
"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets —" Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.
"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes.
"I've already got Roddy Pontner betting
me Bulgaria will score first — I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years — and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week- long match."
"Oh . . . go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see . . . a Galleon on Ireland to win?"
"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well . . . any other takers?"
"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like —"
"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins — but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll
throw in a fake wand."
"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that —" Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and
turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.
"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!" Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.
"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting. . . . That's all your savings. . . . Your mother —"
"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not
a chance, boys, not a chance. . . . I'll give you excellent odds on that one. . . . We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we. . . ."
" And if they win. You'll give them real Galleons and not leprechaun coins, right. " I innocently asked as Ludo flinched a bit
" Ofcourse I will " he confidently stated
" Good, because I'd have the goblins raid your house "
Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.
"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.
"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to
sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."
"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement.
"He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll . . ."
"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."
Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.
"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.
"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha . . . memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into
the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."
"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.
"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh — talk of the devil! Barty!"
A wizard had just Apparated at the fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished.
I could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager.
"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.
"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top
Box."
"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."
"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise.
"Yes — thank you, Weatherby"
Fred, George and I choked into our own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.
"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on
flying carpets." Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.
"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"
"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."
"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.
"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve — but that was before carpets were banned,
of course." He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt
that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.
"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.
"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."
"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.
Ludo Bagman looked shocked.
"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun. . . . Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"
Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman. "We agreed not to make the announcement until all the
details —"
"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I
mean, it's happening at Hogwarts —"
"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."
He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.
"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.
"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once.
"What were they talking about?"
"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr.Weasley, smiling.
"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."
"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.
" You'll tell me " Harry whispered to me as he noticed my grinning face
" Tell you what? "
" What's happening at Hogwarts. I bet you every penny, that you know " he raised his brow
" I do, but I wouldn't tell " I smiled and ran to hide behind Remus
A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.
Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes — green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria — which were
squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which
strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.
"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron said as we strolled through the salesmen, buying
souvenirs.
Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above
him.
"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.
"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action . . . slow everything down . . . and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain — ten Galleons each."
"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.
"Four pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.
"No — don't bother," said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.
"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."
"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.
" I do have a gift for you though. You'll really want it later " I sneaked my arm around Ron's waist.
I had bought suits for both Ron and Harry, and a lovely dark blue gown for Ginny.
While I was shopping for my dress, I came across the dress and couldn't help but imagine how lovely Ginny would look wearing it.
Plus, us girls would be matching
" What is it? "
" You'll see " I grinned
"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione.
"And I'll get us some programs, look —"
Our money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.
I too was dressed in the clothes I came in. Green baggy sweatshirt with a white long skirt paired with a green cap.
My blonde hair draped over my shoulders and my now blue eyes, shinning with excitement.
Suddenly a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.
"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them.
"Come on, let's go!"
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Theo, Draco and Lia