"We've got a bit of a walk," said Dad
"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"
"No, no, that's miles away," said Dad smiling. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup. . . " All in all, the atmosphere was very friendly as they took their departure. "Well, have a lovely time," said Mom, "and behave yourselves," "pfft I'm always well behaved" Ryan replied missing the eye rolls of everyone else.It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Ryan having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding toward the Quidditch World Cup and the chaos that happens later, sped up to walk with his Dad.
"So how does everyone get there without all the Muggles noticing?" Harry asked.
"It's been a massive organizational problem," sighed Dad. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven't got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can't penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many anti-Muggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry's been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can't have too many clogging up their buses and trains – remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point. For those who don't want to Apparate, or can't, we use Portkeys. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed. " Dad pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.
"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" said Harry curiously.
"Well, they can be anything," said Dad. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them. . . stuff they'll just think is litter. . . . "
They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Ryan's hands and feet were freezing and he had 4 sets of hands under his shirt stealing his body warm like usual girls do. Dad kept checking his watch. "Whew," panted dad , taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time – we've got ten minutes. "
Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side, this is what she gets for slacking on her cardio.
"Now we just need the Portkey," said dad, squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big. . . . Come on. . . " "that's what she said. " Ryan murmured and help looked around wondering how they even got the stuff everywhere. They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.
"Over here, Amos! Over here, we've got it. "
The weasleys were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.
"Arthur" said Dad, smiling as he strode over. The rest of them followed. They were standing near what looked like an old boot" Must be nearly time," said Dad quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Arthur?"
"There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," said Dad. "Yes, it's a minute off. . . We'd better get ready. . . . "
He looked around at Harry and Hermione.
"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Mr.Weasley.
They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Ryan how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now. . . eleven people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. . . . it was like homeless men fighting for a turkey sandwich. an entertaining thought.
"Three. . . " muttered Dad, one eye still on his watch, two. . . one. . . "
It happened immediately: Ryan felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward very unpleasant. His feet left the ground; he could feel Daphne and Luna on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then –
His feet slammed into the ground; Daphne staggered into him and he fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud. "as much as I would love to be mounted by you Daphne I haven't had time to prepare my heart." he joked as Daphne turned bright red and starting hitting his chest getting up looking quite embarrassed as everyone smirked at them."Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice.