章 518: Chapter 518: Setting Up a Muggle-Style Shop (Edited)
The sky was still dark, and the moon shone high above. The air was cold, causing their lungs to ache with each breath. Initially, Harry chatted aimlessly with Mr. Weasley for a bit, but then he fell silent and walked along the muddy rural path.
Everything was quiet around them, and only the group's footsteps could be heard faintly. As they passed through the village, the sky began to lighten slightly, and the moon disappeared. At that moment, Tom felt that his hands were freezing.
They finally arrived at the supposed location of the Portkey: the hills of Ottery St. Catchpole.
Once they started climbing the mountain, the muddy path no longer seemed as challenging. Unlike developed tourist areas, the Ottery St. Catchpole hill was a desolate mountain. No one had built roads on a desolate mountain, so they all had to make their way with difficulty, sinking their feet into the mud. In the prevailing darkness, the terrain under their feet was barely visible, and the rain had turned the slope into a quagmire, making it even more challenging for the group to progress.
Every time Tom breathed, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. The cold air had damaged his lungs. Hermione was behind him, pale and gripping her coat tightly. Tom turned his head and noticed a faint mist surrounding her head.
He sneakily checked Mr. Granger's position and noticed that he and Mr. Weasley were at the front of the line. Tom and Hermione were at the rear end. So, Tom slowed down and waited for Hermione to catch up, then gently took her hand.
"This way, it's easier," he said.
Hermione didn't say anything, just nodded in silence.
Thus, Tom held Hermione's hand, and together, they slowly ascended towards the mountain's peak. After taking her hand, Tom felt energized, and the burning pain in his abdomen lessened.
Soon, Tom stood on flat ground, and they had finally reached the mountaintop.
"We have ten minutes, search quickly... it shouldn't be very big," Mr. Weasley said, wiping the condensation from his glasses and checking his wristwatch.
There were two types of Portkeys. One type of Portkey transported the person who touched it to a specific location at a predetermined time. The timed Portkey was the one used in this year's Quidditch World Cup. This Portkey could only be used once and had the risk of being missed, but it could transport multiple people at once.
The second Portkey was rather problematic. Tom always wondered why someone would invent such a magical object. This Portkey activated immediately when touched. It could be used multiple times but was difficult to use for transporting several people, as they all had to touch the Portkey simultaneously. Both Portkeys took the user to the desired destination. With the instant transport Portkey, touching it again would return the person to the starting point.
To Tom, the second Portkey seemed more like a trap. Why did it have to be touch-activated? Wasn't it similar to setting an explosive trap? It was like creating a deliberate trap.
Most likely, the first Portkey invented was the second one, but due to its significant flaws, wizards improved it and created the first Portkey.
Ten minutes, not too long nor too short, and everyone hurriedly searched for the key.
Tom also moved around like a headless fly. The description of the Portkey was very abstract; something that could be "unobtrusive" meant it was hard to detect, easy to overlook.
But now they had to find that thing.
Tom was relieved that there weren't many people casually hiking up the hill, so there was no trash to deal with, and he didn't have to sift through piles of discarded items. He walked back and forth and reached the other side of the mountaintop when something tripped his feet.
Tom looked down and saw an old, moldy boot.
Instinct told him it had to be it.
He straightened up and shouted to Mr. Weasley, "I think I found it!"
The shout cut through the nighttime air and echoed in the hills.
"Boy, what you found is really the Portkey." The first thing Tom saw was a middle-aged man with short, brown beard. Behind him was Cedric Diggory, the Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, who looked very handsome and fit Tom's image of a vampire.
Seeing the broken boot in front of him, Tom felt that the wizarding world had problems with Portkeys. The hill, as a desolate place, didn't clearly show the disadvantages of Portkeys, but in places where Muggles were more active, there were many issues with Portkeys. As known, in places where Muggles moved frequently, a lot of garbage piled up, and the external appearances of Portkeys often resembled trash.
If you have a heap of rubbish in front of you, and your Portkey is nearby, how do you find your Portkey among hundreds of discarded items?
"Masters!" Mr. Weasley rushed towards them in small steps, seeming to have found someone familiar.
"Arthur!"
The two middle-aged men hugged each other.
After Mr. Weasley's introduction, Tom learned that the brown-bearded man's name was Amos Diggory, and he worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
As for Cedric, everyone knew him.
When he stepped out from behind his father, Ginny and Hermione looked at him.
"Hello," Cedric said as he looked at everyone. "Nice to meet you."
Tom, Fred, and the others also waved in greeting.
In the rainy final, Cedric replaced Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor, and there were no hard feelings between him and the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so Fred, George, and Cedric still had a decent relationship.
After a few courteous exchanges, Mr. Weasley introduced Amos to the people present. "The redhead is my son, Fred... George. Ron and Ginny." Usually, Fred and George would play word games with names, but today they weren't in the mood.
"These are Mr. Granger and his daughter, Hermione. This young man is Tom, a good friend of Fred and George, and this is Harry, Ron's friend."
When he saw the Grangers, Amos Diggory was momentarily speechless. On instinct, he felt that the Grangers must be Muggles, but he couldn't ask directly as that would be quite impolite. However, his attention was immediately captured by the name behind them.
His eyes widened. "Harry? Harry Potter? And also Tom Yodel?"
"Mmm." Harry nodded. He was already accustomed to people's curious looks when they met for the first time, as well as the stares directed at the scar on his forehead, which made him uncomfortable. But today, something seemed different.
Today, even though he was still the center of attention, that attention had dispersed, as Mr. Diggory was also interested in someone else.
Tom Yodel: ???
He really wasn't used to that.
"Oh, yes, that's correct..." Tom said, blinking rapidly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Diggory seemed to be more interested in Tom. Harry was like a tourist attraction; all wizards wanted to get a glimpse of "The Boy Who Lived." Tourists took a photo at the tourist spot and left, and wizards did the same, as if they were achieving something.
But Tom was different; he was like a tourist attraction you couldn't just approach and snap a photo of.
"So, did you really repel more than a hundred Dementors at once?" Amos was very intrigued.
"In strict terms, it was in conjunction with Hermione. Our Patronuses transformed." Tom corrected Amos's mistake. He didn't know why, but everyone thought it was solely him who repelled that group of Dementors, ignoring Hermione.
"Wow! Impressive." Diggory gave Tom a thumbs up. "Both of you will surely be included on Chocolate Frog cards."
"Thank you for the compliment." Tom and Hermione sincerely thanked him.
"Being included on Chocolate Frog cards" sounded a bit funny, but it was actually a great honor in the wizarding world. Wizards had existed for so long, and there were only 104 people included on Chocolate Frog cards. It's worth mentioning that only famous modern wizards weren't included, as Chocolate Frogs were impartial and accepted both old and modern wizards, whether they were good or bad.
Tom and Hermione, by all standards, could be included. Because their Patronuses were very special, one was a magical three-headed dog, and the other had no specific form but could merge with the three-headed dog Patronus. Any of these reasons would be enough to be included on the cards. The only controversy was whether they should have a card together or separately.
Tom's attitude was: if possible, please place me next to Hermione on a card.
The only card for two, a prospect that excited Tom just to think about.
"Can you..."?
"Dad." Diggory wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by his son. Cedric knew his father very well and knew what he was thinking. Amos wanted to personally see Tom and Hermione's Patronuses.
In a way, Amos's personality wasn't as carefree as it seemed.
"Time is running out," Mr. Weasley quickly changed the subject. "Is anyone else coming nearby?"
In the vicinity of the Hill, there were four wizarding families: the Weasley family, the Lovegood family, the Fawcett family, and the Diggory family. The Lovegood family had gone to the Quidditch World Cup stadium a week ago, the Fawcett family couldn't get tickets, so only the two families were here, so there would be no more people arriving.
"Everyone take your place; there's one minute left..." Arthur looked at the people using a Portkey for the first time, "You only need to touch the Portkey with one finger."
They all gathered with difficulty. Since they all carried large backpacks and there were many people, it took quite an effort.
Looking at Mr. Granger, who was squeezed next to him, Arthur suddenly remembered that he forgot to talk to him about Portkey sickness.
Portkey sickness was an illness caused by traveling with a Portkey, similar to Muggle motion sickness, caused by the discrepancy between visual movement and movement sensed by the vestibular system, with the main symptoms being nausea and hysteria. Closing one's eyes could effectively prevent and alleviate the symptoms of Portkey sickness.
"By the way, when you use the Portkey later, remember to close your eyes," he said aloud, making sure everyone present could hear.
Before they could react, time ran out.
Tom had been subjected to a very painful torture: he felt like a hook was savagely piercing him from behind the navel, and he was thrown into the air with his feet off the ground.
This sensation, experienced once, he didn't wish to feel a second time. Tom felt like a piece of bacon hanging in the air, swaying in the wind. Hermione was squeezed next to him, and then...
Tom's feet landed heavily on the ground, and his head bumped into something soft and fluffy. With the interference of others, he fell to the ground, and the Portkey fell not far away.
Tom's head was shoved sharply, and his whole body fell to the ground. When he raised his head, he realized that almost everyone had fallen. Hermione was beside him, clutching her stomach, looking quite angry as she glanced at him.
"Five and seven o'clock, from the Hill," a tired voice was heard not far away.
Two wizards were talking, one holding a large gold watch and the other holding a scroll. They both tried to look like Muggles, but their outfits were... quite interesting.
After retrieving the Portkey, the wizard with the scroll began to search the list for their camp.
"Weasley... here, move a quarter-mile ahead, first field, Administrator Roberts. The Grangers are also here. Diggory is in the second field; look for Mr. Payne."
Mr. Weasley thanked him and headed toward the camp. The others were clutching their stomachs and following him. Tom could tell by the paleness on Mr. Granger's face that the previous experience was not a pleasant memory for him.
As they moved forward, Tom observed his surroundings. They were currently on a desolate, misty moorland. The Quidditch World Cup could only be held far from Muggles. Finding such terrain in the UK wasn't easy. Countries like Brazil, Argentina, the United States, Canada, or Russia, with vast territories, would be more suitable for hosting the World Cup.
It took them nearly twenty minutes to traverse the moorland. After crossing it, a small cabin appeared before them, with a gentle hill behind it. Thousands of tents of various shapes and sizes stretched out to the horizon, blending into the dark forest. This was where they would part ways with the Diggorys and head towards the cabin.
A genuine Muggle was standing in front of the cabin door, eyeing the tents.
"Here we are," Mr. Weasley said enthusiastically, "Today, I'm going to set up my tent the Muggle way!"
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