A Hogwarts Legend: Chaos Begins [4] (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six - "Actually, I ran around with my underwear on my head."

I disentangle myself from Elinor and get to my feet. We've arrived on what appears to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us is a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom is holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both are dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly; the man with the watch is wearing a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," says Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who throws it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; I can see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," says Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right 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. Hang on, I'll find your campsite ... Weasley ... Weasley ..." He consults his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr Payne."

LIAM PAYNE! Imagine if it is tho...

"Thanks, Basil," says Mr Weasley, and he beckons everyone to follow him.

We set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swims into view. Beyond it, I can just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. We say goodbye to the Diggorys, and approach the cottage door.

A man is standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. I know at a glance that this is the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard our footsteps, he turns his head to look at us.

"Morning!" says Mr Weasley brightly.

"Morning," says the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," says Mr Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," says Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," says Mr Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" says Mr Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" says Mr Weasley. He retreats a short distance from the cottage and beckons me towards him. "Help me, Emily," he mutters, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now ... so this is a five?"

"A twenty," I correct him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr Roberts return to catch every word.

Nosey twat.

"Ah, yes, so it is ... I don't know, these little bits of paper ..."

"You foreign?" says Mr Roberts, as Mr Weasley returns with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeats Mr Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," says Mr Roberts, scrutinising Mr Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."