Chapter 163

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So, after walking around the camp here and there, we eventually came to a recently unfolded camp of tents with green drawings of four-leaf clovers, Irish team flags, and other greenery. A couple of wizards, looking around, were modestly waving their wands to grow vines and clovers from the ground and braiding them around the tents.

"Max! Hermione!" a voice came from the side of the camp. Turning toward it, I saw Seamus Finnigan and his friend Dean Thomas.

With them, as with the rest of the House, we didn't communicate very friendly, but that didn't seem to stop the guys and seeing any familiar faces, they rushed to chat.

"Hey guys," I waved, and we went over to them.

"Here's someone I never thought I'd meet," smiled Dean Thomas, shaking my hand.

"As you can see, even nerds are attracted to gatherings of people."

A feignedly stern shout forced me to turn around.

"Stop, kid! Stop, or I'll curse you!"

Two Aurors in business suits ran past, chasing some little kid on a baby broom. After watching this procession with a glance, we couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, what do you think?" clapped Seamus on my shoulder, standing next to me and seeing the Aurors off. "Are wizards coping with hiding magic?"

"Not at all."

"That's right," the boys nodded.

We were distracted by a new voice from the side of the already capitally green tents.

"Aren't you going to introduce your friends?"

A middle-aged redheaded woman in a very casual dress.

"Mom, these are my classmates, Max Knight and Hermione Granger."

We bowed politely.

"Guys, this is my mom, Delma Finnigan."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Finnigan."

"Likewise, guys. Keep an eye out at school for my little fidget, please."

"Ma'am."

"Explosive fidget," chuckled Dean.

"By the way, young people," Seamus' mother turned to us with a sort of cunning. "I hope you're cheering for Ireland?"

"Of course we are! Are there any other alternatives?"

I seemed to say it so sincerely that everyone believed me, and even Hermione looked in my direction questioningly.

After saying goodbye to the guys, we went in search of something more interesting. Still, everything went about the same scenario, except that the actors were different and from different countries. Bumping into a large queue, we decided to find out the reason for the pandemonium. It turned out that everyone was going to the water pump.

"What is this nonsense?" I immediately remarked.

"Not nonsense, young man!" some old man from the line turned to me. He was dressed, like many people, ridiculously, in slacks, high rubber boots, and a home bathrobe. "Anti-Muggle security! Yes! No magic."

"So conjure up water in the tent, what's the problem?"

The old man looked at me thoughtfully, as well as some of the others in the line.

"Oh..." sighed one of them, and turning sharply, he walked away, tinkling his iron container.

"Indeed... However!" the old man raised his finger to the sky. "That's the ordinance... Anti-Muggle safety!"

"To hell with the ordinance," some overweight lady indignantly said. "There's already too much to do."

The people who had heard our conversation began to disperse, and the old man, with a contented smile, took the empty spaces in the queue. Well, we moved on.

"Max," Hermione looked at me reproachfully. "Let them do everything by the rules. Look, they'll learn to think at this rate."

"So, is that a bad thing?"

"For the greater good - no. For our personal superiority - yes."

"Wow, what a speech you make. Are you really Hermione?"

"No, a Slytherin under a polyjuice potion."

"You know that the best way to fool is to jokingly tell the truth?"

"You mean I'm a Slytherin now?"

"Apparently."

After a couple of hours of traveling like this, we came upon a market square. Here, in an abundance of stalls and pavilions, they sold mainly products, raw and not so much. I had even seen a couple of people earlier with portable trays, and now these people were filling them up again. Apparently, they sold everything and went back to their colleagues for more. Why such problems with food? And if you look closely, you can see the wizards' pathetic attempts to build a fire without a wand, using ordinary methods. Those who succeeded, however, began to have trouble cooking over an open fire.

"This is just unbelievable!" happily surveyed this theater, Hermione.

"Are you so amused by other people's torment?"

"Of course not! How about we buy that thing over there?"

"What thing?"

"The one over there..."

Hermione dragged me by the hand to the pavilion with some kind of fried overcooked meaty incomprehensible things, which we picked up with all kinds of vegetable garnishes and were happily eating them at one of the half-dozen tables under one big canopy.