reality ◦ fred weasley

• MIDNIGHT MEMORIES •

chapter four; midnight memories

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THEY HAD ARRIVED on a cold, misty moor. Two stressed-looking wizards were standing in front of them; one was holding a large gold watch, and the other a roll of parchment and a quill.

Both were dressed in muggle clothing, but, like most wizards, they didn't quite grasp the concept. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-high galoshes, the other a kilt and a poncho.

"That's attractive," Fred muttered into Robyn's ear, making her laugh.

"He could give you two fashion advice," she teased.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr Weasley brightly as he handed the boot to the man in the kilt, who tossed it into a large box full of what Robyn assumed were other used Portkeys.

"Hello there, Arthur. Not on duty, are you? It's alright 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. Hold on, I'll find your campsite. Weasley, Weasley..." His eyes darted down the parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager is Mr Roberts. Diggory, second field, site manager is Mr Williams."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr Weasley.

They trooped after Mr Weasley and Mr Diggory over the foggy moor. After around twenty minutes, a small stone cottage came into view and they said goodbye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, staring out across the fields at the hundreds of thousands of tents. Robyn recognised him to be the only muggle for miles. After a tedious few minutes during which Mr Weasley attempted to pay him, he came to the conclusion that they were foreign.

"I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously. Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded, " he said 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."

At Mr Roberts words, Fred, George and Robyn were forced to stifle their laughter. Robyn gave a fake cough that made Harry look around in alarm.

"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 baggy golfing pants 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 rolled out of focus, the crease in his brow disappeared, and a look of someone dazed on some drug formed on his face.

"A map of the campsite for you, " Mr. Roberts said to Mr. Weasley, his eyes unfocused. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

The group marched on through the field. The tents, Robyn noticed, were rather spectacularly decorated. There was one which resembled a castle more than a tent; it was, from what Robyn could see, built from solid brick and complete with a moat and drawbridge. Another was a solid Irish green, which would have been completely normal had it not been for the giant, singing shamrocks it was sporting.