Sirius did not explain that bit, and Evan naturally would not talk.
He shared Sirius’s view that the campsite was secondary, and the most important thing was to have everyone together.
He was still thinking about the reasoning he just made, and he couldn’t wait to break The Book of Abraham.
Everyone was in high spirits. They laughed and passed through the deserted moor. They could hardly see anything through the thick mist.
After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view.
Beyond the stone cottage, there were thousands of odd-shaped tents.
They went up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon.
A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents.
From his expression, he might be the only real Muggle in this large area.
That was Mr. Roberts, the site manager.
As soon as he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.
Mr. Weasley went over to talk to him about renting a tent, and Harry was in a hurry too.
Because Mr. Weasley couldn’t tell Muggle’s money apart, he was struggling to peel the notes in a large roll of money.
He also called the pound a colorful salary piece, provoking suspicion of the opposite Muggle.
“It’s strange. You’re not the only one who can’t figure out the amount of money,” he said in a low voice, looking carefully at Mr. Weasley and Harry standing behind him. “Just ten minutes ago, two people were going to pay me a lot of big gold coins.”
Mr. Weasley did not speak and looked at him uneasily.
“There have never been so many people!” he wondered, his eyes once again looking out over the misty field. “Never been this crowded. Hundreds of pre-bookings and people keep coming…”
From his tone, it was like the beginning of a horror movie.
Perhaps for him, this incident was really terrifying.
He was familiar with the place, and for no reason, strange foreigners kept coming in, and his memory was constantly being reset.
“That’s very strange, isn’t it?!” he continued. “Look, from a few days ago, people came from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners, but also many weirdos. I just saw a guy walking around in a kilt and a poncho which is obviously abnormal.”
Mr. Weasley looked more uneasy, and he was already touching his wand.
“I have a feeling that they all seem to know each other, like a party!” He lowered his voice and said, “In here…”
Just then, a wizard in plus-fours suddenly appeared out of thin air and landed at the door of the stone cottage.
“Obliviate!” he said sharply, pointing his wand at the Muggle.
Instantly, his eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted.
His face showed a look of dreamy unconcern. “A map of the campsite for you,.” He said placidly to Mr. Weasley, “And your change.”
“Thank you very much,” Mr. Weasley said.
The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate of the campsite.
He looked exhausted. His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes.
“Terrible, Arthur!” he kept muttering. “I’ve been having a lot of trouble with him. He needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. Besides, a lot of sworn wizards and troubles are waiting for me.”
“Is it up to you alone?!” Mr. Weasley said with amazement, “Where are the others?!”
“Forget it. Ludo Bagman is not helping. This was originally a matter of their Department, but he’s only trotting around and talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not worrying about anti-Muggle security.” He sighed heavily. “God, I’ll be glad when this is over. It’s a real grind. See you later, Arthur!”
When he finished, he Disapparated!
“I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports.” Ginny said with amazement. “He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn’t he?”
“Yes, dear!” Mr. Weasley said with a smile. “Ludo has always been a bit sloppy about security issues, but you can’t find someone more passionate than him to be head of the sports Department. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had.”
In the wizarding word, Ludo Bagman was a very famous person and very popular.
However, when he heard Mr. Weasley’s words, Sirius sneered.
“This man of heart, Evan!” He came up and whispered,” Bagman’s past is not as glorious as rumors. He has been accused of providing confidential information to death Eaters. There is no denying, however, that he is a complete fool, and I doubt very much whether he knew what he was doing at the time, but it’s not wrong to be a bit hearty. “
Evan nodded, for Sirius was correct; Ludo Bagman was a real idiot.
Listening to Mr. Weasley talking about Bagman, everyone was struggling to walk in the misty camp.
They walked between long rows tents and looked around. Most of the tents looked almost ordinary.
Their owners had had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible.
However, some of them had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes.
Here and there was a tent so obviously magical.
For example, halfway the field, there was a tent that was particularly conspicuous.
It was 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.
A short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.
“Always the same. Some people can’t resist showing off.” Said Sirius, “When you enter the innermost, near the camp of the pure blood wizard families, you will see what real luxury is.”
From his expression, it was obvious that he was very disgusted with it, as if he remembered something unpleasant.
Looking at Harry and Ron, it seemed that they wanted to go and have a look.
They were very curious about the tents Sirius talked about.
But at the thought of meeting Malfoy there, watching him show off his fancy tent, and laughing at them, they immediately lost interest.
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