Chapter 143 Lucius Malfoy's Fear

The Quidditch World Cup is a very grand national event. Whenever a game is held, a large number of Quidditch fans from all over the world will gather.

Therefore, the location of the event is very particular.

First of all, Quidditch is an outdoor sport, so the Unmarked Stretching Charm is useless. So, the place needs to be big enough because it needs to accommodate large groups of guests.

Secondly, there is not only a stadium to be set up here, it also needs a campsite where the spectators can set up tents for the night.

After all, it's anyone's guess how long a game will last - in theory, the game will go on until the Seekers on both sides catch the Snitch.

According to records, the longest match lasted three months!

And lastly, the place had to have the Repelling Muggle Charm to keep it from being seen by Muggles who happened to pass by. Such a large site requires a lot of manpower to maintain it.

Needless to say, the traditionally indisciplined wizards could easily become disorganized if they got together.

Mr. Weasley walked forward with the children, looking for the location of the tent he had reserved.

They trudged across the misty camp, between two long rows of tents.

Most of the tents don't look special, obviously their owners took pains to make them as similar as possible to Muggle tents, but some accidentally overdid it, adding chimneys and bells. Rope or weather vane, make neither fish nor fowl.

However, occasionally there are a few tents, which can be seen to be enchanted.

Harry thought, no wonder the Muggle selling tickets was suspicious!

That's right, because the Prime Minister has a long-term relationship with the Ministry of Magic. Whenever such a large-scale event is held, the Muggle leader will always find some reason to send someone to watch over it. Even if they don't remember anything when they go back.

"He caused me a lot of trouble. To keep him happy, he had to say the Oblivion Charm a dozen times a day." That's what an exhausted wizard in knickerbockers had said earlier.

In the middle of the camp, a few tents stand out.

It uses a lot of striped silk so extravagantly that it looks like a small palace, with a few live peacocks tied at the entrance. A little further ahead, they saw another tent set up in the shape of a four-story building, with several turrets beside it.

Further there, there is a garden in front of the tent door, which has birdbaths, sundials, fountains and so on.

And what people couldn't take their eyes off of was a super big tent that was several times larger than the largest tent—to Harry, it couldn't be called a tent anymore.

"Whose is that... um..." Harry couldn't help it, "Should I call it a 'tent'?"

"Oh... yes, I remember that position... It seems to be from some family in France." Mr. Weasley thought for a while, "It looks very grand, doesn't it?"

"It's always like this," said Mr. Weasley, laughing. "When we get together we can't help but want to show off... Ah, there, look! This is our place!"

They came to the edge of the woods at the end of the camp. There was a clearing here, and there was a small sign on the ground with three words written on it: Wesley.

The people from the Ministry of Magic even misspelled their names, and it seems that it is really busy here.

"It couldn't be a better place!" said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. "The field is just beyond the forest, and it couldn't be closer." He slipped his knapsack from his shoulders.

"Well," he said excitedly, "no magic, strictly speaking, since so many of us are here in Muggle territory. We're going to put up the tent with our own hands! It shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles are like that... by the way, Harry, where do you think we should start..."

Compared with those big families, Mr. Weasley can only rely on himself. But I have to say,

The poor also have the fun of being poor, which is beyond the reach of those noble families.

For example, at this moment, in a luxurious tent, the Malfoy family is sitting leisurely on chairs enjoying the fragrant tea after breakfast.

"Dad, I think... can I go out for a walk?" Draco didn't want to make his father angry, because he was always acting weird recently, and his temper was worse than before.

"No!" Lucius glanced at his son, and said with an emphasis, "Stay in the tent for me, and you are not allowed to go anywhere before the game starts!"

After finishing speaking, Lucius subconsciously looked outside the tent, although there was nothing worthy of his attention except the crowds that kept coming and going.

The Dark Lord is back, and he really is! But since old Avery's surprise visit to his house last time, his heart had been hanging in the air.

Yes, he lost the diary that Voldemort gave him—although he originally planned to get rid of it, but who knows, someone actually found out about it and let old Avery use it as a mouthpiece warn him!

This is too bad!

Some time ago, the Dark Mark on his arm suddenly jumped - obviously, his old master had quietly returned!

And not long after, a man in a cloak suddenly came to his bedside. That uneasy feeling immediately woke him up from his uneasy sleep...

"Who are you?"

Lucius, who forced himself to calm down, stared at the opponent's hood, but almost frightened him - he couldn't see anything in it, except darkness, which was darkness, and there was black air lingering from it. out.

That feeling was even scarier than facing a dementor.

"Lucius Malfoy... Are you still a Death Eater crawling at your master's feet?" the man asked in a stiff voice.

Lucius understood immediately that this was the Dark Lord's servant!

"Of course! I, Lucius Malfoy, will always be loyal to Lord Dark Lord!"

"Then prove it with actions." The man threw an envelope from his long sleeve, and Lucius caught it.

Then, the strange man suddenly turned into a cloud of black gas, jumped out of the window and flew up, and quickly disappeared into the night sky.

At this moment, thinking about what to do next, Lucius's heart was suddenly disturbed. He stood up and kept pacing back and forth in the tent with a troubled look on his face.

But he doesn't know it yet, it's not like he won't be able to if he doesn't want to.

...

While Lucius was still torn between interests and fear, Harry and the others had already set up the tent. The boys quickly visited the girls' tents and found that they were only slightly smaller than the boys' tents. But it didn't always smell like a cat like in their tent.

Then, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Luna carried the kettle and the saucepan, walked through the increasingly crowded campsite, and fetched water from the place marked "tap" on the map.

At this time, the sun had just risen, and the mist gradually dispersed. They saw tents in all directions, and they couldn't see the end at a glance.

Several people walked slowly between the tents, looking around with great interest. Only then did Harry realize that there were so many wizards and wizards in the world, and he had never seriously thought about what wizards in other countries were like before!

On the field, the campers who arrived last night gradually woke up.

Families with young children were the first to get up. Harry had never seen such a young wizard—a little boy of about two years old was squatting outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, with a wand in his hand, Happily poking a slug in the grass.

Every time the little boy poked it, the slug swelled and soon became a large sausage. As they approached him, the boy's mother hurried out of the tent.

"How many times have I told you, Kevin? You mustn't - touch - your dad's - wand again - ouch!"

She stepped on the huge slug, and the slug exploded with a snap.

"Oh - my God!" Ron moaned, scowling.

Everyone felt that the scene was a bit nauseating.

But Luna just shook her head and said, "Hm... well...it's not a Flobber caterpillar... or it's going to be a disaster."

They had gone a long way, and they heard her cry in the still air, mixed with the cry of the little boy—"You stomped the worms! You stomped the worms!"

After walking for a while, they saw two little witches, about the same age as Kevin, riding on two toy broomsticks, flying low, their feet lightly brushing the dew-stained grass.

A wizard working in the Ministry had already seen them, and as he hurried past Harry and the others, he muttered distressedly: "It's broad daylight! Parents are probably still sleeping late—"

From time to time, they could see adult wizards coming out of their tents and starting to make breakfast. Some peeked furtively, lighting fires with wands;

On the other side sat three African wizards, all in long white robes, sitting gravely talking about something that looked like a hare roasting over a big purple fire.

Another group of middle-aged American male wizards sat talking and laughing, a shiny banner hung high between their tents: Salem School of Wizardry.

Then, passing certain tents, there were fragments of conversation in strange-sounding languages—he couldn't understand a word.

But today, here, everyone's voice is so excited!

At this time, over the cloudy North Sea, more than a dozen wizards in ragged clothes on broomsticks were speeding along the waves; and not far in front of them, a young man was sitting on a hippocampus On the back of the winged beast, there is an owl flying beside it.

On the sea surface behind them, the long tail marks caused by air currents gradually spread...

Please remember the first domain name of this book: . 4 Novels.com mobile version reading website: