❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 the location of their tent from an old Muggle recessions, the group realized that it was on the over side of the forest. After many groans and stitches, they arrived.

Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. 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 Arthur, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They 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, where do you reckon we should start?"

Since Harry had never been camping, they were hopeless. However, Hermione and Marina (thanks to reading Hermione's Muggle studies textbook) worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, and though Arthur was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using the mallet, they finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

All of them stood back to admire their handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards, Harry thought, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of ten.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Marina bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt her jaw drop. She had seen magical tents, but had forgotten how large they were. She 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 the Burrow: There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.

"I love magic." Harry smiled as he stared in awe. Marina scoffed as she flicked his head.

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𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 too soon before the match of the year was starting. And luckily, Marina and Ron had started a summer business of degnoming gardens for their elderly names. So they had quite enough to purchase some souvenirs.

Salesmen's 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.

Marina purchased a Bulgarian scarf and a red top hat. Ron bought a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. 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."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Marina and Ron shrieked in sync.

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Fours 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.

"Thanks loser." Marina said looking into them, making Harry blush slightly, "Oi, don't get too mushy on me."

"Don't worry Ron. 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.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look –"

Their 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 for betting.

And then 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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