Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God - v7 Chapter 22

, Hogwarts, Scholar Becomes God

Honestly, Harry was used to it that people stared at him curiously when they first saw him.

Also getting used to it, they immediately turned their attention to the scar on his forehead.

Fortunately, Mr. Diggory was very measured. He just glanced at it and looked away.

“Of course, Seid talked about you.”

Amos Point Diggory said, “He told us about his match against you last year… that you were a very brave opponent, a real Gryffindor.

Of course, he’s not bad, at least he can stay on the broom. “

Harry didn’t know how to answer, but smiled awkwardly, while George and Fred frowned.

“Dad!” cried Cedric Diggory.

“Although Harry fell off the broom, he also won the game.” He whispered, “I told you this.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t fall, did you?” exclaimed Mr. Diggory kindly, patting his son on the back. “Our Cyd was always so humble, always a gentleman…”

“Okay, it’s almost time,” Mr. Wesley hurriedly interrupted their chat and took out his pocket watch to look again, “Do you know who we’re waiting for, Amos?”

“No, the Lovegoods were there a week ago, and the Fawcetts didn’t get tickets,” said Mr. Diggory. “There’s no other wizard in this area, is there?”

“Not as far as I know,” said Mr. Wesley. “Okay, one more minute…we should be in our place…”

At Mr. Wesley’s advice, Clark and the others huddled together with difficulty, gathered around the old boot that Amos Diggory was holding, stretched out a finger, and pressed it on it.

“Three…” Mr. Wesley stared at the pocket watch with one eye and whispered, “two…one…”

It was too late and it was too fast, as if a hook was pulling on Clark’s belly button, and then he lifted his feet off the ground and flew up with an unstoppable momentum.

Just like him, all the people present who came into contact with the door key surrounded him, and their shoulders collided.

In this way, they flew forward like a gust of wind, and they couldn’t see anything clearly, and Harry even screamed nervously.

I don’t know how long it took, and finally, his feet fell heavily on the ground, Hermione staggered and slammed into him, and Harry fell directly in front of him.

“It’s 5:07, from Ferret Mountain.” A hoarse voice sounded in their ears.

Clark looked up and saw two tired and gloomy wizards standing in front of him.

One of them was holding a large gold watch, the other a pen and paper, dressed in nondescript Muggle clothing.

“Hey, good morning, Basil.” Wes came to say hello, picked up the boot, and handed it to the wizard named Basil.

The man threw it into a large box beside him, which was already full of used door keys, and then began to help them find the location of the camp.

“Wait a minute, I’ll find out where your camp is… Here Wes… Here Wes…” Basil looked on the parchment list, “Walk about a quarter of a mile and the first camp is ahead. Grounds management The crew is Mr. Roberts. Diggory…you’re in the second camp…for Mr. Payne.”

“Thank you, Basil.” Mr. Weisslai hurriedly greeted everyone to follow him, because another group of people was teleported to the open space not far away.

It was only then that Clark began to look at the place where he had descended.

Around them, a milky white fog filled the air, and almost nothing could be seen under the thick fog, except for a few low bushes occasionally showing a little branch, it looked like a barren swamp, both terrifying and eerie, it was Muggles. A place that will never come.

“Hey, it’s very difficult to organize,” Mr. Wesley sighed as he led them through the swamp. “It’s been a long time since the British Ministry of Magic organized such a big event, and many people have no experience at all.”

They carefully avoided the puddles on the ground, lest they get stuck in and get mud on their feet.

“The main problem is that with around 100,000 wizards coming to the Quidditch World Cup, we certainly couldn’t find a magic venue that could hold that many people and wouldn’t be discovered by Muggles.

There are places where Muggles really can’t get in, but imagine how we could cram a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or Platform 9 3/4?

So we had to choose such an uninhabited swamp, and took all measures to prevent Muggles, and the whole Ministry had been busy with this for several months. “

Ginny interjected at this time, “Then why not choose Hogwarts, where the dragon farm is so big and hidden enough.”

Mr. Wesley glanced at his daughter and replied with a smile: “Not at Hogwarts, there are also big events to be held there this year.”

George and Fred were itching to hear it, and were about to ask Mr. Wesley what kind of activity they were, but they had already walked out of the foggy area.

A huge wooden door stood before them with a welcome sign that read “Britain welcomes you”.

Behind the wooden door, there is a new small stone house, so new that even the corners of the stones are not polished and smooth, so they are piled together like this.

Clark and the others raised their eyes and looked into the distance. They could barely tell the difference. Behind the small stone house, hundreds of strangely-shaped tents were being built along a large sloping slope, extending to the dark woods on the horizon. beside.

“Arthur, let’s go first.” Diggory and his son bid farewell to them and walked to the venue allocated to them.

Clark and the others also walked to the small stone house, where a Muggle man stood.

Mr. Weisslai chatted with him, and wanted to buy a camp map and get the specific location of his camp.

In the process, Mr. Wesley also gave the wrong Muggle coins, which made the Muggle very suspicious.

Fortunately, a wizard from the Ministry of Magic descended from the sky and gave the Muggle an oblivion spell, which allowed Clark and the others to escape easily.

“Why did they put a Muggle in charge of this kind of thing,” Hermione asked Clark curiously as the group struggled through the two long rows of tents, “it’s a clear violation of the Wizarding Secrecy Act. “, and repeatedly casting forgetting spells on people will cause permanent damage to a person’s memory.”

In the face of Hermione’s righteous and stern accusation, Clark didn’t know how to answer. At this time, Mr. Wesley explained quickly, “No way, the department is indeed short of manpower, and things like this are also not enough. Nobody wants to do it.”

Clark knew that the last sentence was the point. For wizards, looking at the door was simply overkill.

Hermione wasn’t very satisfied with this reasoning either, but soon, she was attracted by the strange tents around her.

Most of the tents in this camp don’t look anything special, and it’s clear that their owners have taken great care to make them as similar to Muggle tents as possible.

But there is no guarantee that one or two of them have gone too far, adding chimneys, bell ropes or weather vanes to make them nondescript and strange.

Of course, there are always one or two normal people who like to be unconventional and unruly.

There are so many tents, you can tell it is magic at a glance.

For example, in the center of the camp, there is a tent that stands out.

It used a lot of striped silk to make the tent surface very extravagantly, it was like a small palace, and there were a few live peacocks tied to the entrance. Clark knew at a glance that this was the tent of the Malfoy family, because those few Peacock he had seen in Malfoy’s manor.

Then, they saw a tent built in the shape of a four-story building with several turrets next to it, like a fortress.

A little further inside, there is a small garden attached to the front of the tent, which is full of bird baths, sundials, fountains and so on.

With such a bizarre tent, it was like opening a tent exposition, and it was no wonder that the Muggle who was watching the door was suspicious.

“It’s always like that,” said Mr. Wesley with a smile. “When we get together, we can’t help but want to show off. Ah, here we go, look, this is ours.”

They came to the edge of the woods at the end of the camp, where there was a clearing with a small sign stuck on the ground: Wedsley, obviously the signer made a mistake.

But Mr. Wesley didn’t seem to care much about this. “This place couldn’t be better! The site is on the other side of the forest, and it couldn’t get any closer.”

He said happily, taking the backpack off his shoulders and taking out a tent from inside.

“Okay, let’s put up the tent first. Strictly speaking, no magic is allowed, and since so many of us are on Muggle territory, we have to put it up with our own hands!

It shouldn’t be too hard… Muggles are like that… By the way, Harry, where do you think we should start? “

He was asking the wrong person, Harry had never pitched a tent before, and the Dursleys never took him out on holidays, preferring to leave him to Mrs. Figg, an old neighbor.

Fortunately, there were Clark and Hermione at the scene. With their minds, it was easy to figure out where the posts and screws should be.

Finally, with the help and guidance of the two Clarks, a slightly slanted tent was quickly erected.

But in Harry’s view, the main question now is, with so many of them, how can they squeeze into this small tent?

Mr. Wesley was on all fours at this point and got into the tent.

“It might be a little crowded,” he exclaimed excitedly, “but I think everyone can squeeze in. Come and see.”

Harry bent down and slipped under the tent curtain, his jaw dropping in surprise.

What appeared before them was not the cramped space in the tent, but an old-fashioned three-bedroom with attached bathroom and kitchen!

Only magic can cram a small house into such a tent.

“Oh, it’s only temporary.” Mr. Wesley wiped his bald head with a handkerchief and peered out at the four bunk beds in the bedroom. “I borrowed it from Perkins in the office. Poor Man, he’s got low back pain and can’t camp anymore.”

But Harry was still very strange. Even if the tent was enlarged with magic, it still couldn’t accommodate everyone. After all, Charlie, Bill and Percy didn’t come.

Clark seemed to see his doubts, smiled at him, and got into the bedroom beside him.

When he came out again, he was already carrying a suitcase that looked very familiar.

“Why did you bring this here?” Harry said happily, leaning over to him, “If this is there, there’s no shortage of places to live.”

Clark patted him on the shoulder, motioning him to keep quiet.

At this time, Mr. Wesley was taking out the kettle and two saucepans they brought, and instructing Ron, Harry, and Clark to fetch water outside the camp, and asked the rest of the people to pick up firewood and prepare to start a fire outside. .

Clark took the opportunity to take Hermione and the others outside the tent.

“We can’t open another space item in a space that has been casted on the Traceless Stretching Charm.”

As he spoke, he placed the magic suitcase on the open space beside the tent, and then, for some unknown reason, the cover of the suitcase began to flip and grow, like a Transformer, and quickly became An ordinary-looking log cabin that is more than two meters high.

When Mr. Wesley came out and saw this scene, even if he did not approve of using magic props here, he had to let it go.

Harry and the others quickly went in and visited the cabin, and found that it was still the original spatial layout, and there was nothing different.

Fortunately, there was finally enough room for them to rest.

When everything was in order, Clark took the lead, with Hermione, Harry and Ron, with kettles and saucepans, ready to cross the camp to get some water.

The sun had just risen, and the mist had gradually dissipated, and they could see tents everywhere, and they could not see their heads.

The four of them walked slowly through the tents, looking around with interest.

From time to time, adult wizards can be seen emerging from their tents, and they start making breakfast.

Some of them took a surreptitious glance, and then stretched out their wands to set the fire on fire; others were foolishly striking matches with a skeptical look on their faces, as if to think that it must not work.

Three African wizards sat in front of a thatched tent talking solemnly, all dressed in long white robes and roasting what looked like a hare over a purple fire.

Another group of middle-aged American wizards sat chatting and laughing, with a shiny banner hanging high between their tents: Invermorny Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Seeing this, Clark thought of Bruce Stewart, the former transfer student from the United States.

Although the Magic Congress of the United States may have done something in the last dragon farm attack, the British Ministry of Magic has not condemned the United States for this because of insufficient evidence.

Therefore, the transfer student of Yin Famorny stayed at Hogwarts and did not leave because of it.

Of course, at this point, the school chose to keep him rather than expel him, and there is no intention behind it.

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