Chapter 173
At the entrance stood a man gazing toward the tents, and from just one glance, Albert could tell he was a true Muggle not a wizard dressed as one. Albert had learned to sense the faint magical aura that surrounded any witch or wizard; even someone as powerful as Dumbledore radiated at least one percent of his power outward. But this man had none.
As soon as the man heard their footsteps approaching, he turned and said, "Good morning!"
"Good morning!" Mr. Weasley replied warmly.
"Are you Mr. Roberts?"
"Yes, that's me. And you are?"
"I'm Mr. Weasley. We reserved two tents here two days ago."
"Your spot's over by the forest there for one night only."
"All right then!"
"You'll need to pay now."
Mr. Weasley stepped back awkwardly, then motioned to Harry as he fumbled with a handful of Muggle banknotes. "Ah… right… Harry, help me out. This is ten, uh, yes… and this one's five, isn't it?"
Harry leaned closer and whispered, careful not to let Mr. Roberts hear, "That's twenty."
The man raised a brow. "Oh? Having trouble with the notes, are you, stranger? You're not the first one. Two folks earlier tried to pay me with big gold coins about ten minutes ago!"
"Really?" Mr. Weasley asked nervously.
Mr. Roberts rummaged in a tin box for change, shaking his head. "Never seen anything like it hundreds of people showing up at once, all kinds of foreigners, all dressed funny. Just saw a bloke in a kilt a minute ago!"
Mr. Weasley said uncertainly, "He… wasn't supposed to do that, was he?"
Mr. Roberts chuckled. "It's some kind of… I don't know, race or something. They all seem to know each other, like it's one big club!"
At that moment, a wizard appeared out of thin air near the hut's door, raised his wand toward Mr. Roberts, and said sharply, "Obliviate!"
At once, Mr. Roberts's eyes lost focus, his lids drooping as though he'd fallen into a dream. Albert instantly recognized the effect a Memory Charm. He thought about stopping the stranger, but since Arthur Weasley had seen the man too and hadn't reacted, Albert stayed silent.
Moments later, Mr. Roberts blinked and spoke as if nothing had happened. "Here's your campsite map, sir and your change!"
The wizard who had cast the spell accompanied them to the edge of the field, his tired eyes shadowed deeply as he said to Mr. Weasley, "That man wears me out needs a new memory about ten times a day! Ludo Bagman's no help, either. All he does is stroll about shouting about the Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his lungs. I'll be glad when this Cup's over. See you later, Arthur."
And as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished again.
Ginny looked astonished. "I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports! Shouldn't he know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles?"
Mr. Weasley smiled. "Oh, he should, of course but Ludo Bagman has always been a bit careless about such things. Still, he's one of the best department heads we've had. Used to play for England, you know and he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."
They began walking across the misty field between rows of tents. Most looked ordinary, as though their owners had done their best to make them appear Muggle-like. Yet even so, they couldn't quite hide the odd chimneys, bells, or spinning weather vanes. Here and there were tents so blatantly magical that Albert understood exactly what Mr. Roberts had meant by "strange people."
Halfway across the field stood a magnificent tent of striped silk, more like a small palace, complete with live peacocks at the entrance. A little farther on rose a three-story tent topped with tiny turrets, and another boasted a front garden, sundial, and fountain. Mr. Weasley laughed, shaking his head. "We just can't resist showing off when we're together. Ah, here we are look, this is ours!"
They had reached the edge of the forest at the top of the sloping field. A wooden sign staked into the ground read Weasley. Mr. Weasley beamed. "Best spot you could hope for the stadium's just on the other side of that wood! Perfect."
He lowered his bag and said firmly, "Now, no magic here, all right? Everyone must follow that rule no spells, not on Muggle land with this many people around. We'll set up the tents by hand! Can't be that hard; Muggles do it all the time. Come on, Harry, where do you think we should start?"
Harry had no idea the Dursleys had never taken him camping, preferring to leave him with old Mrs. Figg whenever they went on holiday but he and Hermione worked together and finally managed to get the tent standing.
Mr. Weasley was fascinated, especially when he started hammering in the wooden pegs by hand.
At last, they stood back, admiring their work. The two tents looked perfectly ordinary no one could guess they belonged to wizards. The only problem, Albert realized, was space: once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they'd be ten in total.
Hermione seemed to have noticed this too, giving Albert a knowing look as Mr. Weasley crouched down and crawled inside first. "It'll be a bit cramped," he called from within, "but I think we'll manage! Come have a look!"
Albert and Harry bent low to enter and were utterly astonished. Inside was a shabby old flat with three rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, all fully furnished. The mismatched chairs were the only clue to its magical nature.
Mr. Weasley smiled. "Well, we won't be here long anyway. Borrowed it from Perkins at the office poor chap doesn't go camping anymore."
He picked up a dusty kettle. "We'll need some water…"
"There's a tap marked on that map the Muggle gave us," Ron said, unfazed by the tent's size. "Other side of the field."
"Good. Why don't you, Harry, Albert, and Hermione fetch some water, while we collect firewood?" said Mr. Weasley.
"But there's a stove, why " Ron began.
Mr. Weasley interrupted him. "Precautions, Ron. Muggles always cook on open fires when they camp. I've seen them do it!"
So Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Albert left the tent, heading toward the small lake not far away. As Ron carried the kettle, Albert suddenly stopped him and said, "Wait. I'll enchant it so it fills with water on its own."
Ron frowned. "Did you forget what Dad said? No magic allowed here!"
Albert smirked. "He said no magic detectable by the Ministry or the campsite wardens. But I don't need a wand for this remember?"
Ron blinked, momentarily stunned he had completely forgotten that. From Harry's face, it was clear he had too.
Albert whispered a few words under his breath, and the kettle filled instantly, water spilling over the rim. He handed it back to Ron. "There. Easy."
To be continued...