Chapter 7 Bagman and Crouch

chevy free himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appe ard to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a suspender of tired and grumpy-looking angiotensin-converting enzymes, one of whom was h gagaing a grand gold sop up, the a nonher(prenominal) a fat hoist of lambskin and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though in truth inexpertly The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.Morning, Basil, verbalize Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him chafe could operate an old news showpaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured footb either(prenominal). hello on that closure, Arthur, utter Basil wearily. Not on duty, eh? Its every right for comfortably-nigh.Weve been here exclusively dark.Youd representter get bulge start of the centering, weve got a big party approaching in from the Black quality at five fifteen. Hang on, Ill find your bivouac.WeasleyWeasley. He consulted his parchment list. About a soak up of a miles walk all everyplace there, first line of products you come to. Site managers called Mr. Roberts. Diggorysecond athletic field command for Mr. Payne.Thanks, Basil, utter Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.They set off crosswise the deserted moor, unable to make out some(prenominal) through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small s character cottage adjoining to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, evoke could just make out the ghostly shapes of cytosines and hundreds of ten-spotts, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark timberland on the horizon. They verbalize unspoiled-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door.A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. fire knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footstep s, he turned his send to look at them.Morning state Mr. Weasley brightly.Morning, say the Muggle.Would you be Mr. Roberts?Aye, I would, tell Mr. Roberts. And whore you?Weasley dickens tents, booked a couple of days ago?Aye, said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. Youve got a set up by the wood there. Just the one night?Thats it, said Mr. Weasley.Youll be standing forthwith, because? said Mr. Roberts.Ah right certainly - said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a dead distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. Help me, Harry, he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to sputter the nones apart. This ones a a a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it nowSo this is a five?A twenty, Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts assay to catch every word.Ah yes, so it is.I dont know, these little bits of paperYou foreign? said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes. hosti le? repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.Youre not the first one whos had trouble with money, said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago.Did you authentically? said Mr. Weasley nervously.Mr. Roberts rummaged some 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, except Mr. Roberts didnt give it to him.Aye, he said thoughtfully. People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? at that places a bloke walking round out in a kilt and a poncho.Shouldnt he? said Mr. Weasley anxiously.Its like some grade ofI dunnolike some sort of rally, said Mr. Roberts. They all seem to know each other. standardized a big party.At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air nigh to Mr. Robertss front door.Obliviate he said sharply, pointing his billy club at Mr. Roberts.Instantly, Mr. Robertss eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a took of dreamy numbness fell over his wait. Harry recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.A defend of the campsite for you, Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. And your change.Thanks very much, said Mr. Weasley.The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo commercial travelers not helping. Trotting around blithering about Bludgers and Quaffles at the go on of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, Ill be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur.He Disapparated.I t hought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports, said Ginny, looking surprised. He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldnt he?He should, said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, scarcely Ludos constantly been a bitwelllax about security. You couldnt 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 white Anglo-Saxon Protestants ever had.They trudged up the misty field amongst long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, simply had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.Always the same, said Mr. Weasley, smiling. We cant resist sho adoptg off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us.They had reached the very edge of the wood at the bring in of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.Couldnt have a better spot said Mr. Weasley happily. The field is just on the other side of the wood there, were as close as we could be. He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. Right, he said excitedly, no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when were out in these numbers on Muggle land. Well be putting these tents up by hand Shouldnt be too difficult.Muggles do it all the time.Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?Harry had never bee n camping in his life the Dursleys had never taken him on any physique of holiday, preferring to leave him with Mrs. Figg, an old neighbor. However, he and Hermione worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, and though Mr. Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got soundly overexcited when it came to using the mallet, they finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.All of them stood back to honor their handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards, Harry thought, just the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of ten. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem too she gave Harry a quizzical look as Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.Well be a bit cramped, he called, but I think well all squeeze in. scrape up and have a look.Harry bent experience, ducked under the tent flap, and felt his lather drop. He had walked into what look ed like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in simply the same sort of style as Mrs. Figgs house on that point were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a infrangible smell of cats.Well, its not for long, said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesnt camp much anymore, poor fellow, hes got lumbago.He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. Well need irrigate.Theres a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us, said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. Its on the other side of the field.Well, why dont you, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then - Mr. Weasley hand over the kettle and a couple of saucepans - and the rest of us will get some wood for a discount?But weve got an oven , said Ron. Why cant we just -Ron, anti-Muggle security said Mr. Weasley, his face glimmer with anticipation. When real Muggles camp, they defecate on fires outdoors. Ive seen them at itAfter a quick tour of the girls tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys, though without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.Now, with the sun newly rise and the mist lifting, they could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. They made their way slowly through the rows, staring(a) eagerly around. It was only just dawning on Harry how many witches and wizards there must be in the world he had never rattling thought much about those in other countries.Their fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children Harry had never seen witches and wizards this young before. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, keeping a wand and poki ng happily at a plug away in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As they drew level with him, his get down came hurrying out of the tent.How many times, Kevin? You dont touch Daddys wand yecchhShe had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried aft(prenominal) them on the still air, mingling with the little boys yells You bust slug You bust slugA short way farther on, they saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them as he hurried past Harry, Ron, and Hermione he muttered distractedly, In unspecific daylight Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldnt work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, tour a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read THE capital of Oregon WITCHES INSTITUTE. Harry caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and though he couldnt understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.Er is it my eyes, or has everything gone green? said Ron.It wasnt just Rons eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of lesser yellow trefoils, so that it looked as though small, especially shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from tush them, they heard their names.Harry Ron HermioneIt was Seamus Finnigan, their fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.Like the decorations? said Seamus, grinning. The Ministrys not too happy.Ah, why shouldnt we show our colorise? said Mrs. Finnigan. You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. Youll be supporting Ireland, of course? she added, eyeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione beadily. When they had secure her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, Like wed say anything else surrounded by that lot.I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents? said Hermione.Lets go and have a look, said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag white, green, and red was fluttering in the gentle wind.The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same posting attach ed to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was jiffy and scowl.Krum, said Ron quietly.What? said Hermione.Krum said Ron. Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian SeekerHe looks really grumpy, said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.Really grumpy? Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. Who cares what he looks like? Hes unbelievable. Hes really young too. Only just eighteen or something. Hes a genius, you wait until tonight, youll see.There was already a small find for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard he was holding out a pair of patterned trousers and almost crying with exasperation.Just put them on, Archie, theres a good chap. You cant walk around like that, the Muggle at the gates already getting suspicious -I bought this in a Muggle shop, said the old wizard stubbornly. Muggles wear them.Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these, said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.Im not putting them on, said old Archie in indignation. I like a healthy breeze round my privates, thanks.Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away.Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harrys foretoken Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry over to his parents tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been sign to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry, who cockeyed quite a lot of water down his front as he waved back. More to wind up Ron from smirking than anything, Harry hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers whom he had never seen before.Who dyou reckon they are? he said. They dont go to Hogwarts, do they?Spect they go to some foreign school, said Ron. I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazilthis was years and years agoand he wanted to go on an exchange trip but mama and Dad couldnt afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasnt deprivation and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up.Harry laughed but didnt voice the amazement he felt at hearing about other wizarding schools. He supposed, now that he saw representatives of so many nationali ties in the campsite, that he had been stupid never to realize that Hogwarts couldnt be the only one. He glanced at Hermione, who looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt she had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other.Youve been ages, said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys tents.Met a few people, said Ron, setting the water down. Youve not got that fire started yet?Dads having fun with the matches, said Fred.Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in light up the fire, but it wasnt for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.Oops he said as he managed to light a match and quickly dropped it in surprise.Come here, Mr. Weasley, said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plent y to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harrys and Hermiones benefit his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office.Here comes Gilbert Wimple hes with the Committee on Experimental Charms hes had those horns for a while nowHello, ArnieArnold Peasegood, hes an Obliviator member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you knowand thats Bode and Croakertheyre Unspeakables.Theyre what?From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to.At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the timberland toward them.Just Apparated, Dad, said Percy loudly. Ah, tenuou s, lunchThey were fractionalway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. Aha he said. The man of the moment LudoLudo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.Ahoy there Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was only in a st ate of wild excitement.Arthur, old man, he puffed as he reached the campfire, what a day, eh? What a day Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night comingand hardly a hiccough in the arrangements.Not much for me to doBehind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards hotfoot past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending over-embellished sparks twenty feet into the air.Percy hurried antecedent with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.Ah yes, said Mr. Weasley, grinning, this is my son Percy. Hes just started at the Ministry and this is Fred no, George, saturnine thats Fred Bill, Charlie, Ron my daughter, Ginny and Rons friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harrys name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry s forehead.Everyone, Mr. Weasley continued, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, its thanks to him weve got such good tickets -Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur? he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. Ive already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first I offered him nice odds, considering Irelands front three are the strongest Ive seen in years and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match.Ohgo on then, said Mr. Weasley. Lets seea Galleon on Ireland to win?A Galleon? Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. Very well, very wellany other takers?Theyre a bit young to be gambling, said Mr. Weasley. Molly wouldnt like -Well bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts, said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, that Ireland wins but Vikto r Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and well wee in a fake wand.You dont want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that, Percy hissed, but Bagman didnt seem to think the wand was rubbish at all on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a no-good chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.Excellent I havent seen one that convincing in years Id pay five Galleons for thatPercy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.Boys, said Mr. Weasley under his breath, I dont want you betting.Thats all your savings.Your mother -Dont be a spoilsport, Arthur boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. Theyre old enough to know what they want You reckon Ireland will win but Krumll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance.Ill give you excellent odds on that one.Well add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we.Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and beg an jotting down the twins names.Cheers, said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.Couldnt do me a brew, I suppose? Im keeping an eye out for Barty submit. My Bulgarian opposite numbers making difficulties, and I cant understand a word hes saying. Bartyll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.Mr. Crouch? said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. He speaks over two hundred Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll.Anyone can speak Troll, said Fred dismissively. All you have to do is point and grunt.Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo? Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.Not a dicky bird, said Bagman comfortably. But shell turn up . Poor old Berthamemory like a leaky caldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. Shell wander back into the office sometime in October, thought process its still July.You dont think it might be time to send someone to look for her? Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.Barty Crouch keeps saying that, said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, but we really cant spare anyone at the moment. Oh talk of the devil BartyA wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. Harry could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rig idly spare-time activity rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a cant manager Harry doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.Pull up a bit of grass, Barry, said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.No thank you, Ludo, said Crouch, and there was a bite of fury in his voice. Ive been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box.Oh is that what theyre after? said Bagman. I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent.Mr. Crouch said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. Would you like a cup of tea?Oh, said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in kookie surprise. Yes thank you, Weatherby.Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.Oh and Ive been wanting a word with you t oo, Arthur, said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. Ali Bashirs on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets.Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.I sent him an owl about that just last week. If Ive told him once Ive told him a hundred times Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the cash register of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?I doubt it, said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. Hes desperate to export here.Well, theyll never replace brooms in Britain, will they? said Bagman.Ali thinks theres a box in the market for a family vehicle, said Mr. Crouch. I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve but that was before carpets were banned, of course.He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.So, been keeping busy, Barty? said Bagman breezily. blankly, said Mr. Crouch dryly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo.I expect youll both be glad when this is over? said Mr. Weasley.Ludo Bagman looked shocked.Glad Dont know when Ive had more fun.Still, its not as though we havent got anything to took frontwards to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -Oh details said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. Theyve signed, havent they? Theyve agreed, havent they? I bet you anything these kidsll know soon enough anyway. I mean, its happening at Hogwarts -Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know, said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagmans remarks short. Thank you for the tea, Weatherby.He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.See you all later he said. Youll be up in the Top Box with me Im commentating He waved, Barty Crouch nodde d curtly, and both of them Disapparated.Whats happening at Hogwarts, Dad? said Fred at once. What were they talking about?Youll find out soon enough, said Mr.Weasley, smiling.Its classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it, said Percy stiffly. Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it.Oh shut up, Weatherby, said Fred.A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness stretch like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the essential and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and button carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria which were squealing the names of the playe rs, pointed green hats bedecked with bound shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.Been saving my pocket money all summer for this, Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Rons hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.Wow, look at these said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.Omnioculars, said the saleswizard eagerly. You can replay actionslow everything downand they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain ten Galleons each.Wish I hadnt bought this now, said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.Three pairs, said Harry firmly to the wizard.No dont bother, said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.You wont be getting anything for Christmas, Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermiones hands. For about ten years, mind.Fair enough, said Ron, grinning.Oooh, thanks, Harry, said Hermione. And Ill get us some programs, look -Their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.Its time said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. Come on, lets go