Registration went fairly quickly - we were greeted by two wizards in very strange outfits. Most likely, they tried to look like ordinary people, but it turned out, frankly, not very well because women's hats on men over forty, some puffy pants, or nightgowns as outerwear - nonsense. Funny, Lady Greengrass was well aware of that but did not show it, carefully hiding a smile. Hermione, too, showed skills of occlumency, although, now and then, the corners of her lips twitched in an attempt to smile.
After my name and two tickets for it were found on the lists, Hermione's name was scribbled as the second wizard, and Lady Greengrass went through this procedure a couple of days ago, when the packing began but not the check-in.
"I'll tell you, young people," Delphine was saying as we walked to the next check-in point, the regular people's lodge. "Wizards started arriving a week ago, but it wasn't until today that they were officially allowed to take the spots they bought. But the truth is, no one cared about that kind of trivia."
"But why?" wondered Hermione, examining the tents that were sinking into a light fog, then becoming clearly visible again.
"Everyone knows that not only the stadium but all the fields are covered with muggle-repelling charms. That's why they neglect the rules in the minutiae. Except it's extremely difficult to cover such an area without ritual schemes."
"So use schemes, what's the problem?"
"You, young miss, simply unfamiliar with this swamp, mistakenly called the legislation," smiled Delphine. "There's just an incredible mess of wording and laws, new and old, and it gets worse every year. At the moment, there are many different bans and restrictions on all kinds of magic, ritual magic included. If you look into the laws, it's obvious that no one wanted to forbid it, only to limit some elements, sacrifices there, and openly dark rituals. But the text says that all such magic is dark and cannot be practiced and that what can be practiced is limited to five runes and seven graphic elements."
"That's nonsense!" exclaimed Hermione, but she didn't continue as we approached the door of the house.
Knocking on the wooden door, I waited for permission.
"It's unlocked!" came a voice from inside, and as we opened the door, we went inside.
The most ordinary house of the rural type, now dark, the lights off, with the usual furniture and instances of old appliances. At the window stood a simple man in his forties.
"Come in. And you rent a place?"
That's right! It's not enough to just buy tickets, is it? Ah, a bad salesman at the "Quality Quidditch Supplies" didn't tell me about that nuance. But that's all right - I always have the usual pounds with me.
"Yes, sir," Delphine replied with a smile.
"Ah, I remember you, yes. You rented the lot not long ago," the man nodded with a smile, becoming a little more good-natured. There was almost no mind in his gaze, and the reason for this is probably the frequent erasure of memory. "The prices haven't changed these days, Mrs. Now, where's the list?"
The man walked across the room to the door where the long, and importantly, printed list hung.
"A place has been reserved under this young man's name," Ms. Greengrass pointed in my direction.
"Maximilian Knight."
"Knight... Knight..." mumbled the man, looking for the right line with his eyes. "Yeah, there is one. The twenty-third is the last day. Since you're here now, five days, I assume? Will you pay now?"
"Yes, sir. How much?"
"Eighty pounds, young men."
Withdrawing my bag from the shoulder, I reached into a separate enchanted pocket and drew out the usual money. Quickly counted out the right amount and handed it to the man.
"Be careful with open fires, there are no insects here, but wild animals can smell food. Although..." the man pondered. "Not with this many people. Never had so many pre-orders!"
With a glazed look at us for a moment, the man went back to the window. Not to bother the man any further, we left the house.
"Terrible state he's in," Hermione remarked dejectedly.
"Incompetent obliviator," Delphine shrugged back. "Properly removing memories or blocking them without affecting the associative chains of consciousness is a non-trivial task. In this man's case, there are clear signs of partial dementia. The phenomenon is temporary, but on condition that in the future a person will engage in active mental activity."
"What kind of mental activity can there be when you live almost in the forest, alone," I couldn't help but notice an important aspect.
"Somehow, that doesn't seem right."
"Well, you wanted to get to know more about the life of the magical world, didn't you? And contact with ordinary people is inevitable. Here, the first example."
"It's all about saving money," Delphine summed it up weightily. "All right, young people."
Lady Greengrass turned toward us.
"I think you can figure it out from here. I'll see you at the match."
With those words, Lady Greengrass apparated away.
"But we still haven't finished talking about the laws..." Hermione sighed somewhat sadly, but a couple of steps toward the still-sleeping tent camp gave her back her ardor and enthusiasm.
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