We stood on a seemingly deserted stretch of misty moor. Standing there talking to Lucius and Narcissa were two grumpy-looking wizards dressed up as Muggles – sort of. One wore a tweed suit with thigh-high galoshes, the other a kilt and a poncho. I never realized how hard it could be for a wizard to dress like a Muggle.
Draco and I walked up to them, no longer tired after being thrown to the ground.
The one with the galoshes consulted his list, "Malfoy... About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, second field you come to. Your Site Manager is Mr. Bumblebee."
"Aww... bumblebee," I said. Draco snorted.
We walked away through the mist that was just starting to clear as the sun came up over the horizon. About twenty minutes later we could see hundreds of tents that rose up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood just on the horizon. A little more walking and we came up to a cottage door where a man with tousled gray hair stood. He wore wizarding robes so this was no Muggle, it made the Malfoys relax a touch. But we needed to pay him Muggle money so he could pay the person who owned all the land they were on.
I took out the Muggle money and asked, "How much?"
"Just a thirty – some wizards have been trying to give me Galleons, and I have to remind them that this is Muggle land," Mr. Bumblebee said. "Luckily they had me to tell them, but to those who have Muggles as their Site Managers, I hope they know what was expected. Some have brought tents that look more like miniature palaces."
"We brought one that's... fairly fancier," Lucius admitted as I gave Mr. Bumblebee the money. "But it won't be too fancy, I assure you."
Mr. Bumblebee bowed his head to us, gave us a map of the campsite, and went to go help another wizard that just arrived.
Lucius led us through the long line of tents – of which all looked more regal than normal. We finally reached a tight space with a small sign hammered into the ground that read MALFOY. A very short distance away was the field where the match was to take place.
"Is this space big enough for your tent?" I asked, looking at the tents next to us.
To our left was a long line of red Bulgarian tents, and to our right were a surprising number of tents that looked like my definition of a Hobbit hole. The Bulgarian flag – white, green, and red – sat high above them, fluttering in the light breeze. They were bedecked with plant life and every last one of them had the exact same poster of a guy with a surly face with heavy, black eyebrows just blinking and scowling.
The little Hobbit holes had roundish looking wooden doors that opened in and out, but the rest of it looked like the fabric of a regular tent. Only they had little mail boxes and gardens out front as though they were their own mini homes. Could these matches ever be long enough to last a whole year?
"We have enough room," Lucius said, looking around him cautiously before taking out his wand. With a wave, the tent set itself up. I shook my head regrettably. There was no magic allowed on these Muggle grounds. The tent itself was just as fancy as much of the others, it had the Bulgarian colors on it and looked like a mini-castle. Yeah, only a little fancier, right Lucius?
Inside it was surprisingly bigger than it looked on the outside. It was two floors, about five rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a dining room. It was quite nice, but it felt like I was about to stay in a rental home instead of a tent.
"You want to go out for a bit?" Draco asked once we set our bags down.
"Sure," I said, following him out of the tent. "So.. who's that on the Bulgarian posters?"
"Oh, that's Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker! He's the best Seeker in the world!" he replied excitedly.
"Wow..." Better than Harry Potter?
We walked around, studying each of the tents. Some actually looked like normal tents to the point that I wished I could give them kudos for knowing how to properly hide their magical ways. Others looked even shockingly bigger than ours. It got to the point I started actively searching to see if anyone made a mini Hogwarts tent. No such luck.
I followed Draco outside the area of the tents, and was taken aback when he pulled out his wand.
I stopped in my tracks. "What are you doing?"
"Getting some practice in," he said simply, his expression so calm it was as if he didn't know what was wrong with it.
"But we're not in school, and the Ministry has to be here to keep other wizards in line so they'll catch you easily. They are able to trace us."
He snorted, holding back a laugh with his hand.
"What's so funny?" I asked suspiciously.
"Don't you know that the Ministry can't trace exactly who's casting a spell?"
My brow furrowed as I looked at him, "They can't specifically trace it from your wand?"
Draco shook his head. "The Ministry can only trace where an underage wizard is located, not whether or not we're casting it from our wand. The two of us live in magical homes, so they can't know if it's us casting it or an adult."
I frowned in thought, "Damn, then I could've been practicing spells at home all along...?"
"I would've thought you'd know that, Mel. It's got to be in some book. Anyways, the rule is only in place to make sure underage wizards don't cast magic in front of Mudbloods —" he paused when I glared at him, and sighed in exasperation. "Sorry — Muggles — that aren't supposed to know about magic."
I smiled mischievously as I thought about how mom told me not to get into trouble... I never promised I wouldn't. And since she thought I wouldn't find out the truth about the Ministry's tracing actual abilities, having told me that they could trace it directly to the user, I felt I had a right to get whatever practice I wanted in.
Admittedly, I was curious after being sent home for Christmas my first year at Hogwarts with the task of becoming an Animagus why Ministry officials hadn't shown up at the house immediately after I accomplished it. But, I'd dumbed it down to it being authorized by Professor Quirrell, Severus, and my mom... I hate not knowing the truth. Why would she lie?
In an attempt to forget my frustration, I excitedly pulled out my own wand. "In that case, have you read the school books yet to see what spells we'll be doing this year? We can practice on each other... actually, scratch that, I can practice on you and you can practice on a dummy."
He shook his head firmly, "Please, I like to enjoy my summer vacation away from school work —" He waved his arm around as he talked. He didn't notice but, whenever it started to point at me, I immediately ducked.
"— Um, Draco –"
"— and anyway, what do you mean I can't practice on you? I know what I'm doing —"
"— Whatever you say, but Draco —"
Too late. Sparks burst out of his wand and hit a nearby tree. It toppled over, hit in such a way that it looked like a clean cut from an axe. The tree started to fall in our direction.
I waved my wand as quickly as possible, "Arresto Momentum!" The tree's descent slowed, and I immediately grabbed Draco's hand, walking with him until we were out of the way when it gently touched the ground. "This," I gestured toward the tree, "is why I refuse to be what you practice on unless I know you can get the spell right."
"Shut up, I get it," Draco scowled, his cheeks redder than usual as he looked at the hand still intertwined with his. I felt my own face burn from the realization, what is going on with my face feeling like it's on fire with him today?
About a dozen Ministry members Apparated around us, looking at the tree. I instantly dropped Draco's hand and glared at him, so much for hiding our use of magic.
"Who knocked it over?" a stiff, obviously strong rule-stickler barked at us. He was an elderly man, uptight and with short gray hair that was almost unnaturally straight. He followed the rules of Muggle dressing so thoroughly that even I could have mistaken him for a Muggle.
"That's Barty Crouch..." Draco whispered in my ear before clearly stating, "I apologize. It was me, I did it by accident."
"That's big of you," I whispered in surprise, my eyes wide as I looked at him.
Barty Crouch! was being shouted at the back of my mind. I wonder what he has his son doing while he's out working... maybe still keeping him at home under a continued Imperius Curse?
"What is your name, young man?"
"Draco Malfoy, sir."
He then looked at me, an expression of vague familiarity crossing his features. "And you?"
I gulped, feeling like his eyes were looking through me rather than at me. Why does it feel like he knows about my heritage with that look? "Melody Riddle, sir."
Mr. Crouch looked over the tree, and then back to us. "Did you use the charm to slow its descent too, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I did that," I said, raising my hand up slightly. I could sense his feelings of incredulity, as well as apprehension, though his face remained serious.
Another man came along, a rather childish look in his eyes. He wore the most 'out there' kind of clothes imaginable. An enormous picture of a wasp on bright yellow and black Quidditch robes. He was a Ministry member, but the Quidditch robes suggested he played on a Quidditch team when he was younger. His nose was squashed – possibly from a stray Bludger – he had blond hair, a rosy complexion, and round blue eyes.
"What's going on here, Barty?" he asked, sounding rather overenthusiastic. "Couple kids causing mayhem? How exciting!"
"An accident," he said curtly. "We'll have to get this tree out of here before any Muggles come investigating."
"Why not just use Reparo?" Draco asked me in a whisper.
I gave him a look as I whispered back, "A tree is life Draco. It's not like you can cut a person's head off, use the Repairing Charm and they're all right again."
Draco couldn't help his laughter.
Lucius Malfoy appeared by Mr. Crouch with a pop. Draco's laughter died down instantly.
"Ah, Malfoy," Mr. Crouch said. "I believe this is your son – he accidentally knocked down the tree, and Ms. Riddle helped slow its descent."
Lucius looked it over and said, "Impeccable job, Melody." He turned back to Mr. Crouch, "Did any.. Muggles see this?"
"It looks like there's no one around! What marvelous luck!" Ludo shouted.
Mr. Crouch looked at Ludo irritably before nodding to us, "We'll take care of this, Malfoy."
"I appreciate it, Crouch... as for you, Draco," Lucius said, turning to his son who looked down at his feet in embarrassment. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder, "I need to talk to you."
They walked away, and I rolled my eyes. Becky would just love to hear about this.
"I hope your mother is doing well, Ms. Riddle?"
I turned to look at Mr. Crouch in mild surprise, his face as well as feelings revealing nothing more to me. "Yes sir, she's doing very well. Thank you for asking."
The major shocker for me was when he gave me a small smile in response before walking away.
What was that about?
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When we went back to the tent for the rest of the day, Draco sulked for most of it. I couldn't even get him to play a few rounds of cards with me to get his mind off of his little accident. Once dusk came and magic filled the air, he was happier, and the Ministry had to give up trying to stop anyone from casting spells. The attempts would have been absolutely futile.
Salesmen had Apparated to empty spots every few feet so when Draco and I got out of the tent we saw small shops that we rushed to for stuff to buy.
We looked through what they had to sell with excitement. They had tiny models of Firebolts that actually flew, models of the players that actually walked around, and bunches of other things. Draco got a model of Viktor Krum; I got two Firebolt models – one for Marcus, another for Lissy – and a Bulgarian scarf for Becky with a lion on it that really roared.
"It's about to start!" Draco said excitedly, grabbing my arm. His hands were surprisingly smooth against my skin. "Let's go!"