Roger felt his feet hit the ground heavily, and Hermione, who was next to him, let out a small exclamation and staggered into him. Pen~Fun~Pavilion www.biquge.info boy reached out to help her, in case her face hit the ground first.

As for Harry on the other side, Roger let him fall to the ground in embarrassment, and the portkey almost smashed into the little savior's head to add a new scar to him.

The place resembles a large desolate, misty swamp.

Only Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were standing, but they were also disheveled and skewed by the wind, and everyone else fell to the ground.

"This travel experience is worse than a front-loading washing machine... Isn't there a comfortable way to travel in the wizarding world?" Roger grumbled.

"Laundry cones, do Muggles do their laundry, oh, how do they work?" Mr. Weasley completely ignored Roger's second sentence, only being distracted by the washing machine.

However, Mr. Weasley's question was not answered, as the conversation was interrupted by the two wizards in front of them: "Five and seven, from Stoat Mountain." ”

Two sorcerers with gloomy faces looked exhausted, one holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill.

Both dressed as Muggles, but they were too unprofessional: the man with the gold watch wore a tweed suit on top and a pair of thigh-length rubber galoshes underneath, and his colleague wore a pleated skirt and a South American cape like that Scottish Highland men wear.

Behind the two wizards

"Oh... Good morning, Basil. Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the wizard in the pleated skirt. The man threw it into a large box beside him, which was full of used portkeys.

"Hello, Arthur," the man in the short skirt complained weakly, "not on duty, huh? Some people are so lucky that you didn't do anything... We're going to stay here all night..."

"Let me see... Where is your camp... Weasley... Weasley...", the short-skirted wizard searched the parchment list, "about a quarter of a mile away, the first camp in front of you is." The groundskeeper is Mr. Roberts. Diggory... You're in the second camp... Find Mr. Payne. ”

"Thanks, Basil. Mr. Weasley said, beckoning everyone to follow him.

Walking through the deserted swamps, almost nothing could be seen in the thick fog.

After walking for about twenty minutes, a door appeared in front of me, and then a small stone house. Thousands of oddly shaped tents could barely be discerned behind the stone huts, which went up the gentle slope of the large field that stretched out to a dark forest on the horizon.

They said goodbye to Diggory and his son and walked towards the door of the stone house.

The stone house belonged to the Muggle Warden named Roberts, and after Mr. Weasley had bought two tents under Roger's direction, they set out again to walk laboriously over the misty camp, passing between two long rows of tents.

Most of the tents don't look like anything special, and apparently their owners have gone to great lengths to make them look like regular tents, but some have accidentally overdone it and added chimneys, bellstrings, or weather vanes to make it indecent.

However, there are also a few tents occasionally, and at a glance you know that they are magical, and Roger looks at it with a smile on the corner of his mouth...

In the center of the camp, there is a tent that stands out in particular. It was so extravagant that it resembled a small palace, with a few live peacocks tied to it at the entrance. A little further ahead, he saw a tent in the shape of a four-story building, with several corner towers beside it. On the other side, there is a garden in front of the door of a tent, with a bird's bath, sundials, fountains, and so on.

"Always," said Mr. Weasley with a smile, "when you get together, you can't help but want to show off." Ah, here it is, look, this is ours. ”

They came to the edge of the woods at the end of the camp, where there was a clearing with a small sign on the ground that read: Weedley. (The Ministry of Magic has misspelled the Weasleys' last name.)

"This place is perfect!" said Mr. Weasley happily, "the field is on the other side of the forest, and it couldn't be closer." ”

He took his backpack off his shoulders and began to unpack the two double tents with high spirits: "Since it's in Muggle territory, we'd better not use magic and set up this tent with our own hands... It shouldn't be too hard, Harry, what should we do?"

It is better to count on him than to count on Roger, the little savior didn't even have freedom before he moved in with Black, and he still set up a tent in the wild?If the Dursleys could be so nice to him, what would Sirius do?

Roger thought so and did the same, he was like a contractor on the construction site, arrogantly instructing Harry to lead a vote of 'migrant worker brothers' to contribute:

"Spread the tent out on the ground first, face down... Right, flatten the folds... Then I put those yellow brackets together and insert them through the opening of the tent... It's not there, just pull it out a little more... There are four straps with holes in the four corners of the tent, do you see? Insert the bracket into the first hole, and then put the four iron chisels inserted in the ground through the holes on the outside of the straps and nail them to the ground..."

With the concerted efforts of the crowd, two fairly standard tents were erected, much to Mr. Weasley's choking excitement.

He got on all fours and got into the first tent.

"When Percy, Charlie, and Bill come back at noon, we'll be alone..."Harry muttered to Roger quietly, "There are only two tents, so there are not enough people to live..."

Roger sighed, and said in a rather sincere tone: "Really, if you continue like this, your brain will become a tofu brain because it has been abandoned for too long..."

"......" Harry jumped to his feet, not knowing where to provoke the poisonous tongue again.

"It might be a little cramped," Mr. Weasley's voice came from the tent, "but I think everyone can squeeze in." Check it out. ”

Harry bent down and slipped under the tent curtain, his jaw dropping in surprise.

Incredible in the tent was an old-fashioned three-bedroom apartment with bathroom and kitchen. The mismatched chairs were covered with crochet covers, and there was a pungent smell of cats in the air.

The little savior's jaw suddenly dropped in shock, and he muttered, "Okay, it seems that I deserve to be scolded..."

He remembered the flying classic car that Mr. Weasley had modified, the back seat of which was as big as a park bench...