Hermione Granger was held tightly by Ginny Weasley's arm as they followed behind the elusive Mr Weasley.
They were crossing a desolate, foggy stretch of moorland where nothing could be seen but thick mist.
Ginny, like her, was covered in dew and looked thoroughly lost.
"This does not look much like a place for a Quidditch match..." she muttered to Hermione, stumbling and staggering along, tripping over a hidden rabbit hole.
"That is exactly what I thought too," Hermione said, her face pale, slipping on a thick, dark clump of grass. She had only just recovered from the dizziness brought on by the spinning Portkey.
Hermione could never quite get used to that sensation of weightlessness, so high up.
In the brief instant of falling from the sky, she had very nearly cried out the boy's name. Whenever she found herself high in the air, she would always murmur his name to herself, as though it lent her some sense of safety.
However, Ginny had held her hand the whole way down and fallen alongside her; she did her best to bear it, without losing her composure.
After only a few days staying at Ron's house, Hermione had already grown a good deal closer to Ginny.
On the one hand, they shared a room at night, and had a great many "private topics" to discuss... everything from Puffskeins to Love Potions to Ginny's crush; on the other hand, Ginny, as the only daughter of the Weasley family, faced with six mischievous brothers forever making themselves smell dreadful, had spent years praying to Merlin for the company of a properly fragrant young lady.
This summer, Ginny's wish had come true, at least to some degree.
Almost overnight, she had abandoned her hand-me-down dolls and toys, gaining herself a brand new sister she could do exactly as she pleased with; she had not even had time to join in George and Fred's pranks, which came as some relief to Mrs Weasley, who had grown thoroughly weary of the twins' constant mischief.
"Oh, you are very welcome, Hermione. It is so lovely having you here."
Mrs Weasley said kindly to Hermione, as Hermione thanked her, peeling a potato with her wand. "Ginny has talked of nothing but you since the holidays began. We had rather worried Ginny might never find a girl friend of her own..."
Hermione, an only child who had never had siblings, found this "sisterhood" quite a novelty.
Shedding her usual shyness, Hermione discovered Ginny to be a sincere, entertaining girl.
She was willing to share everything she knew of the wizarding world with Hermione, from a girl's own particular point of view; and, unlike so many others at Hogwarts, she never once treated Hermione as some dull, rigid, over-serious bookworm.
"Oh, Hermione, you are clever and talented," Ginny said. "Those tiresome sorts only ever care about how a girl looks, and are far too embarrassed to admit girls have brains as well. I would not bother with them, if I were you."
Before long, the two of them had become the best of friends, quite inseparable.
After another twenty minutes or so of hard slogging, Ginny shook her arm and pointed excitedly ahead. "Look, Hermione, the tents!"
Hermione looked up, and was astonished to see hundreds of curious tents ahead of them. They stood densely packed along a gentle slope, beyond which lay a dark stretch of woodland.
"Let us hurry!" Hermione said to Ginny, with great enthusiasm, all her tiredness and weariness vanishing at once.
They hurried forward and caught up with the large party of Weasley boys. Mr Weasley exchanged a few words with a Muggle site manager named Roberts, then led them all towards the woodland at the far end of Field One.
Walking between two long rows of tents, marvelling at how oddly some of them stood out, they finally reached their destination... the plot allotted to the Weasley family.
Once the tent was pitched, they were properly encamped. Hermione discovered that the Weasleys had a startlingly poor grasp of how tents worked. In the end, she and Harry, the only two among them properly familiar with the Muggle world, ended up in charge of putting the thing up.
What made it even more absurd was that Mr Weasley kept adding to the confusion at every turn.
He found the Muggle equipment endlessly fascinating, excitedly holding up stray parts or the mallet, and bombarding Hermione and Harry with question after question, quite entranced by the little things.
"Do not mind my dad, he is always like this. The moment Mum is not watching him, off he goes, free as anything, always wanting to have a play." Ginny wandered over with a grin, offering Hermione a hand.
"It is quite all right. My own dad has much the same trouble in private. He is always fascinated by odd little things." Hermione quickly secured the tent pegs and said, smiling, "The difference is, my mum does not stop him. If anything, she lets him run rather wild with it."
"I really cannot imagine that. I have seen them in Diagon Alley before, and they seemed quite serious," Ginny said curiously.
"That is all put on. In private, they are always far too lively." Hermione stepped back two paces, surveying the first tent's corner, now properly secured, with some satisfaction.
Over the way, under Harry's direction, the Weasley boys had already finished putting up the first tent. They then ran over to help Hermione and Ginny with the second. By the time Mr Weasley had only just worked out what the tent pegs and pins were for, the second tent was already standing, if rather crookedly.
The two girls had a slightly smaller tent to themselves. Inside was a two-bedroom flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen.
"This is an Extension Charm, is it not? Truly ingenious." Hermione exclaimed, having wandered right round the inside of the tent.
"You actually know about that?" Ginny said, mildly surprised. "You really do not seem the least bit like a Muggle at all. You know more than some wizards do."
Hermione smiled. She had seen a great deal like it before with Draco, so none of it felt unfamiliar to her at all.
I wonder what he is doing just now? Has he arrived yet? Where has their tent been pitched? Hermione could not help but wonder.
She knew it was not good for her, dwelling on him so. She needed to think of something else, to distract herself.
Just then, Mr Weasley was busy toying with a box of Muggle matches, a considerable heap of spent ones already piled up around him, cheerfully doling out tasks to the boys and girls: Harry, Ron, and Hermione were to fetch water, and Ginny insisted on tagging along with Hermione as well.
The task proved simple enough.
Harry and Ron, with a show of gentlemanly manners, each carried a large, dusty water jug ahead of them, while Hermione and Ginny followed the two boys empty-handed, crossing the whole campsite to find a standpipe on the far side.
On the way back, the field had grown steadily livelier.
Hermione ran into some familiar faces: Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, decked out in shamrocks, kept trying to talk her into supporting Ireland; her Hufflepuff classmates Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Hannah Abbott waved and called out to them, studying a poster of Krum; more Hufflepuff friends... Susan Bones and her rather stern-looking aunt... passed by, smiling and nodding to Hermione; and Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho Chang, greeted them, at which Harry promptly spilled water down his own front.
"Why does he go all flustered like that... over Cho Chang?" Ginny asked, frowning.
"Oh, ever since he beat her in that last match, he has felt a little awkward around her," Hermione said, a sudden flicker of unease in her eyes as she watched Harry blush.
She glanced at the thoughtful Ginny, and swiftly changed the subject, with rather forced enthusiasm. "Do look at these tents!"
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