Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. ‘Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up …’
    ‘Is that right?’ said Mr Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr Roberts didn’t give it to him.
    ‘Aye,’ he said 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 a poncho.’
    ‘Shouldn’t he?’ said Mr Weasley anxiously.
    ‘It’s like some sort of … I dunno … like some sort of rally,’ said Mr Roberts. ‘They all seem to know each other. Like a big party.’
    At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts’s front door.
    ‘Obliviate!’ he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts.
    Instantly, Mr Roberts’s eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognised the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.
    ‘A map of the campsite for you,’ Mr Roberts said placidly to Mr Weasley. ‘And your change.’
    ‘Thanks very much,’ said Mr Weasley.
    The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them towards the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted; his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr Weasley, ‘Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman’s not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I’ll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur.’
    He Disapparated.
    ‘I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?’ said Ginny, looking surprised. ‘He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn’t he?’
    ‘He should,’ said Mr Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, ‘but Ludo’s always been a bit … well … lax about security. You couldn’t wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had.’
    They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather-vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. 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 further on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.
    ‘Always the same,’ said Mr Weasley, 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 pitch 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?’
    Harry had never been camping in his life; the Dursleys had never taken him on any kind of holiday, preferring to leave him with Mrs Figg, an old neighbour. However, he and Hermione worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, and though Mr Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly over-excited 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. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem, too; she gave Harry a quizzical look as Mr Weasley