Harry and Danny disentangle themselves from Ron and get to their feet. We have arrived in what appears to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us is a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom is holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both are dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly; the man with the watch wears a tweed suit with high-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.
"Morning, Basil," says Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who throws it in a large box of used Portkeys beside him; I can see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can and a punctured football.
"Hello there, Arthur," says Basil 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 big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite...Weasley...Weasley..." He consults his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory...second field...ask for Mr Payne."
"Thanks, Basil," says Mr Weasley, and he beckons everyone to follow him.
We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swims into view. Beyond it, I can just make out ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. We say goodbye to the Diggorys, and approach the cottage door.
A man is standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. I know at a glance that this is the only real Muggle for several acres. When he hears our footsteps, he turns his head to look at us.
"Morning!" says Mr Weasley brightly.
"Morning," says the Muggle.
"Would you be Mr Roberts?"
"Aye, I would," says Mr Roberts. "And who're you?"
"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"
"Aye," says Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just one night?"
"That's it," says Mr Weasley.
"You'll be paying now, then?" says Mr Roberts.
"Ah - right - certainly -" says Mr Weasley. He retreats a short distance from the cottage and beckons Harry and Danny towards him. Mr Weasley mutters something, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart.
Danny seems to correct Mr Weasley on something, looking uncomfortable. Mr Roberts is trying to catch every word.
Mr Weasley says something else.
"You foreign?" says Mr Roberts, as Mr Weasley returns with the correct notes.
"Foreign?" repeats Mr Weasley, puzzled.
"You're not the first one to have trouble with money," says Mr Roberts, scrutinising Mr Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."
"Did you really?" says Mr Weasley nervously.
Mr Roberts rummages around in a tin for some change.
"Never been this crowded," he says suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."
"Is that right?" says Mr Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr Roberts doesn't give it to him.
"Aye," he says 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 poncho."
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Dawn Rivera
Fanfiction"One is the lock, one is the key, one is the sacrifice the world shall shall grieve." Dawn has wanted to go to Hogwarts ever since she was a little girl, and nothing her older sister Gertrude says will discourage her. Little does she know that the m...
