Magic? || Years 1-5

Ludo Bagman: Year 4/Summer

"A map of the campsite for you. And your change," Mr. Roberts said calmly, all suspicion far gone.

"Thanks very much," Mr. Weasley smiled, looking much more relaxed.

The wizard who had saved them from the awkward situation looked absolutely drained, dark shadows under his eyes, and the way he dragged himself along.

"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 muttered, very soon after Disapparating.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports. He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?" Ginny asked curiously.

"He should, 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," Mr. Weasley replied, smiling.

As they kept walking through the field, they kept passing tents.

Most looked normal, only occasionally a few with chimneys or weather vanes, but some were tents so clearly magical Amisty wondered who in their right mind thought it would pass as ordinary.

One had three floors and turrets, another with an entire front garden, and one that so clearly belonged to Draco's family Amisty could practically hear the tent screaming the name. There were peacocks tethered outside the entrance, for goodness sake.

"Always the same. We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us," Mr. Weasley beamed, leading the way over to an empty space with a sign marked: Weezly "Couldn't have a better spot! The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be. Right, 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?"

It took quite a bit for them to figure out what they were doing.

They all seemed to think Amisty knew what she was doing, she didn't. Half the time she was hoping that the rest of the group didn't realize how hopelessly lost she was. But, by the end of it all, they had two tents set up that looked nothing more than Muggle tents.

They were tiny, though, how on earth would they fit everyone in?

"We'll be a bit cramped, but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look," Mr. Weasley called, crawling into the first tent.

Amisty exchanged bewildered glances with Harry and Hermione, and crawled in, shock washing over her at the sight inside. It seemed to be some sort of flat, much, much larger inside than what the outside made it seem. There were three floors, the one they were standing in decorated with mismatched chairs and crocheted covers.

As pleasant as it seemed, the scent of cats practically attacked Amisty's nose.

She sneezed.

"Well, it's not for long. I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago," He picked up a dusty kettle. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us. It's on the other side of the field," Ron replied.

"Well, why don't you, Harry, Amisty, and Hermione go and get us some water then and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?" Mr. Weasley handed them the kettle and a few saucepans.