Scream and Shouts

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"How much for one?" Rey asked the seller, who was having a wide smile on her face.

"10 sickles only." She told him.

"I'll take three please." Rey smiled back at the seller, who immediately convey his order towards the cook.

"That is 30 sickles." She handed his food.

Rey quickly handed three galleons towards the seller, who immediately tried to return one of them with 4 sickles as a change. His math wasn't off, so did the seller's. But he just asked the seller to keep the change, which caused the seller to thanked him repeatedly before someone behind him chimed in.

"Quite the generous one aren't you?" The unkown person asked him.

Rey immediately turned around carefully to face the person behind him, mindful of the boxes of food that he just bought. Deep down, he was thankful that the seller gave him one of those bulk-bought magical bag that prolly cost a sickle each. 

The person behind him seemed to be older... and taller. He could be around Beau's age or a bit younger for all he care, but Rey's whole attention was set towards the fading scar on the person's left hand. The guy wore a coat that looked like the group of boys he spotted a few hours before that spoke Norwegian. Were they happened to be his friends or something?

"Fritjof," The man offered his hand before adding on, "Oddmun Fritjof."

Rey immediately shook the boy's hand and told his name, all the while questioning whether the unknown Wizard was using a James Bond reference. Fritjof really reminded him a lot on his cousin, Gunnar. A rather annoying one for that matter, more on him later. 

"So where do you come from?" Fritjof asked him. 

"Canada, and you?" Rey tried to hide his discomfort. He could not brush them off after he saw the passing dark glint behind Fritjof's equally dark eyes. 

"My name's might be not finnish, but I'm from one of the magical communities in Kainuu." Fritjof smiled.

"Oh I see..." Rey replied, not knowing where Kainuu exactly was. He knew where Finland was, but not exactly knew the place that Fritjof have mentioned. His brain quickly went to overdrive as he tried his best to find a way to cut off their conversation. 

"It's been nice talking with you Fritjof, but I'm afraid my mother have been waiting for the food." He casually lifted the bag on his left hand to further explained his reason. 

"No matter then." Fritjof bowed a little before standing up straight, towering above him. "Till we meet again."

As soon as Fritjof walked away from him, Rey's surrounding felt more alive somehow. It was as if the boy managed to lock his attention solely into him, which he rather very much disliked. Have Fritjof casted a spell on his mind? That couldn't be possible. But once again, only magic could bring such effect on someone. 

Brushing off his thought, Rey quickly made his way back through the crowds. It was a rather festive night, with the Irish supporters running wild in their celebratory spirits. Some started pouring pints of butterbeer, some others were lightning up fireworks that would later turned into an explosion of dancing leprechauns, while a small group of people started to dance in a music. 

A man, who was probably in his 40s immediately dragged him to their dancing circle, totally threw Rey off by surprise. It wasn't until his wife came and repriminding him that Rey was not his son, the man let him go and started to apologizing. Rey assured the man that was nothing to worry about before decided to take a more desserted route.

Even though the food stalls were located on the outskirts of the center block, it was still quite far from Cedric's tent. Cedric's family was quite smart in choosing a right place to stay in the night. Right near the edge of the forest, their place was definitely quieter than others. He could take various ways to return to the tent, some of which involved a broom heist or illegal apparating that would definitely leave his limbs scattered across the camp ground and him getting arrested later on. But due to his laziness, Rey just decided to take a detour through the now-already quiet southern lane. 

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