"Cool," said Hermione.
While I activated the security on the entrance with my wand, Hermione looked around the inside of the tent with interest. Actually, the tent looked like a tent, but it was really big and tall. The rectangular room was divided by a dense fabric into several such rooms with a quality wooden floor. The vestibule, as if in a niche, was a step below the rest of the room. There were hangers, shoe racks, and closets. Without any walls, there was a passage from the vestibule to a great common room with sofas, armchairs, a coffee table, and a stone fireplace with a chimney. Also, it was closed - surely the smoke was cleared by some version of Evanesco, or other domestic spells, of which there were insane numbers. On the left side of the hall, behind a cloth partition, was a kitchen with cupboards and a magical stove and oven. There was no dining room - not that version of a tent, more for camping. The far side of the hall gave access to two living rooms, one on the left and one on the right. It was extremely difficult to call the area enclosed by a cloth and a curtain a room, but this was a small detail. In this setup, there was one bed, closet, nightstand, desk, and chair. Everything was of good quality, and the beds had two sets of white linens and two pillows. There was plenty of room, allowing not only to replace the bed with a bunk bed but also to add another one, expanding the number of beds to four in each room. There was a separate bathroom with a bathtub, shower, and toilet. Judging by the description, nothing unusual, the water system is closed, enchanted, self-disposal.
Since this is my first time here myself, the room's individuality is out of the question. There are not even dishes here, but I took mine and, judging by the quite calm face of Hermione examining everything, she too.
"Very cool," the girl smiled, plopping down on the couch and flicking a light into the logs in the fireplace with her wand, igniting the flame. Just as I thought, the smoke escaped into the closed chimney, disappearing.
"But?" I sat down next to her, dropping my bag on a chair.
"Too impersonal."
"I just bought it yesterday, so there's long and hard work to be done on the way to ennobling this place."
"It's a matter of time. So, what are we sitting around for?" clapped Hermione on her knees. "Unpacking!"
The girl stood up from the couch, taking her bag in her hands.
"I guess I should change into some more hiking clothes, too? I hadn't thought of that," she examined her skirt and snow-white turtleneck. "I succumbed to my parents' influence."
"It suits you."
"Naturally!" a little embarrassed and with a smile on her lips, the girl hurried to the rooms. "Which room are you going to? The right one? The left?"
"You choose."
"Then I'll go to the left. I'm more used to it."
With these words, she disappeared into her room. After looking at myself, I decided that my business appearance was really unnecessarily inappropriate in such a chaotic and incomprehensible camp. So I followed Hermione's idea and went to the right room. After changing into black army-type pants, boots, a gray T-shirt, and a dark green jacket of heavy fabric, almost denim, I went back into the hall, but before I could sit down on the couch, Hermione was back. Simple jeans, sneakers, and a buttoned-up yellow windbreaker. Her hair was simply tied at the back of her head in a bushy ponytail, but such hair doesn't want to just give up - a few strands the girl tried to tuck behind her ear, but three attempts and Hermione gave up the futile task, leaving them framing her face.
"Yellow?"
"Yellow. Why? Bad?"
"As an acquaintance of mine once said, 'Nothing can spoil the beauty.'"
"How do you do it?" put her hands to her sides. "You seem to have praised that I am beautiful but also reproached."
"I don't know myself. What are your plans?"
"Let's hurry up and see the camp! I'm just burning with curiosity!"
Hermione was at the exit of the tent pretty quickly and was waiting for me. Once outside, I was a little surprised at how quickly the camp woke up. Various wizards have already scurried here and there, striking the imagination with their attempts to seem like ordinary people in a place full of magic and magical objects. If an ordinary man were here, he would begin to frantically remember whether he had recently used any drugs, mushrooms, or herbs.
The match was still five days away, but the vendors with portable trays or other shopkeepers were actively trying to sell various Irish and Bulgarian national team paraphernalia, all sorts of small things, and of course, a lot of people with all sorts of local fast food, conceptually not much different from the usual. Well, unless you count all sorts of smoked cuts from the fifth scapula of some tentacled, humpbacked bacchlossaurus. I'm exaggerating with the name, of course, and there is no such animal. Probably.
Every now and then, young people of "pre-Hogwarts" age ran past, actively waving mostly green Irish national team paraphernalia. They shouted loudly and rejoiced that their team will certainly kick all Bulgarians asses, and Krum wouldn't save them. Fun. Looks like we're close to the Irish camp.