It was the first time Charlie Weasley had ever taken a port key and not fallen down on the other end of it. Bill clapped Charlie on the back, "Hey look at who's still standing up!" he shouted, grinning at his younger brother. It was just the two of them, their father, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric that were up - everyone else was in a great knot of limbs on the ground in the mushy moor moss, groaning as they worked to extricate themselves from each other.

Charlie pulled Ginny up as Bill reached for Ron and Hermione at the same time. Cedric tugged Harry to his feet and Arthur tugged on the arms of his twins, and Mr. Diggory took up Percy.

Harry dusted himself off and looked around as they were welcomed and directed the way to go by the portkey conductors and the whole crowd of them started up over the hill toward the camping site. While Mr. Weasley paid the muggle that owned the field they were camping in, Charlie stood a few feet off, looking around the massive crowd of tents that stretched off all the way to a thick line of trees at the far end, beyond which he could just barely see the flags in the parapets of the World Cup stadium, a magically transportable pitch with a great deal of collapsible spectator seating that the Ministry moved to different locations for each event.

Last year, the World Cup stadium had been erected in Croatia.

Bill threw his arm over Charlie's shoulders, his heavy cologne filling Charlie's nostrils even more than the earthy scent of the fields. "She's over there."

Charlie followed Bill's pointing arm and sure enough, there was Nymphadora Tonks, her hair bright pink, wearing her purple and grey Auror's uniform, laughing and talking to another couple aurors, standing at the edge of the woods to the north side of the field.

"I wasn't looking for Tonks," Charlie said.

Bill laughed, "Of course you weren't. Because Cha-Cha just loves looking over the sight of a sea of humanity."

Charlie groaned, "Don't call me that."

Bill mussed up his brother's hair and drew away, laughing as he turned back to Arthur, who was struggling with the muggle money, being helped by Harry Potter. Charlie rolled his eyes and fixed his hair, grumbling at his brother's retreating back. But if he was being honest, it wasn't like Bill was wrong or anything - Charlie actually had been looking for Tonks, and he really did hate the idea of wading through that whole sea of humanity he was overlooking - as much as anyone would hate the idea of wading into the depths of the ocean without a life vest if they weren't sure whether they could swim.

"Come along, Charlie! Don't want to get separated from the group 'til you see where our campsite is, then we can go off and explore some!" Arthur called jovially.

Charlie kept his eyes on the beacon of pink at the tree line as they walked, not wanting to lose sight of her so he knew where to go when they'd settled in.

Ron was prattling on about Viktor Krum and the twins were teasing him profusely about his admiration as they walked, stepping past ornate tents, glowing fire circles, delicious smelling foods, people selling trinkets, carrying buckets of water, children running after toy snitches, and wizards covered in orange, green, and white body paint screaming in deep accented voices as they hoisted aloft heavy pints of foaming golden beer.

"The Irish know how to party!" Bill commented, smirking.

"Ayyyyy!" the twins chorused.

Charlie was pleased to see they were nearing the line of the woods, not far east of where Tonks stood with the other aurors, and finally Mr. Weasley came to a stop 'round a tiny ten foot square patch of grass, nestled in the middle of about fifteen other tents, already erected and bustling with energy. In the front of the patch was a small sign hammered into the ground that read "WEEZLY".

Really? Charlie thought, Weasley wasn't that had a name to spell correctly. What those muggles must've thought.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as could be."

Charlie glanced at Harry. Of course they'd gotten some kind of special privileges because of Harry, it had to be. The pitch so close, the aurors station a stone's throw away - he could see Tonks's eyes already on them even as Mr. Weasley was hoisting his backpack from his shoulders and excitedly getting the tents out.

"Shouldn't be too difficult... Muggles do it all the time..." Mr. Weasley was muttering, "Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

Poor Harry looked lost.

"Oi Dad, be right back," Charlie said, darting toward the auror station.

Bill shouted, "Enjoy the sea of humanity, little brother!"

Charile turned, walking backward, and gave Bill two of the most rude gestures - one with each hand - and Bill laughed and gave them right back, along with the twins, who took advantage of their father's preoccupation with the tent and mimicked their big brothers.

"I'll never --" Percy was saying, swatting Fred and George's hands down.

Charlie jogged up as Tonks's auror mates were stepping away and she leaned against a tree, grinning, watching as he came over. "Hi," he said.

"Cha-cha, my love," Tonks said, looking him over. "What'd you do, paint on that shirt?"

He looked down. The shirt was a little tight. He'd gotten it his first year at Fortescue's Academy and he'd certainly grown a bit since then, his muscles more toned and from the sheer work of dragon handling everyday, but it was what he called his Lucky Shirt.

He'd met his first Hungarian Horntail in this t-shirt, and Norberta and was still one of the most important things in his entire life. He hoped the handlers back at the Center were treating her with the same level of care that he himself would be doing if he were there. He'd left very detailed instructions about how to clean her claws and teeth and how to brush her eyelashes - she had a tendency to get them stuck in her eyes - and he'd always hand-washed her scales because the power wash was too much for her. Plus there were her nightly treat of a rabbit steak stuffed with blackberries and butter that needed preparing and -

Tonks was talking to him and he suddenly realized he had no idea what she was on about, he'd been thinking about dragons again.

Like bloody always. Typical Cha-cha...

"Right?" She finished.

"Uh-huh."

"Spiffing!" She paused. "Now, repeat back to me the last ten words I've just said, Charlie."

"....something, something, something - right?"

"That's what I thought." Tonks rolled her eyes. "I said that you might be interested to know that tent just over there - the orange one? It belongs to the Cannons seeker, Oliver Kent."

"What!" Charlie turned and looked at it. "That bitty thing?"

"It's downright palatial inside!" Tonks nodded. "He asked for something non-auspicious on the outside and an auror cover... Having some sort of high end luncheon there today with Ministry officials and half the Bulgarian team..."

"Bugger me, he's rooting Bulgaria? Traitor, in't he?"

"Trained Krum," Tonks shrugged. "Of course he's for Bulgaria. Besides. Was that not your brother that just went by with K - R painted on one face and U - M on the other?"

"I disowned Ronald this morning for that."

"And was it not you that just two days ago said to me, and I quote, 'Viktor Krum flies like a Chinese Fyreworm at top speed'?"

"Shhh, don't let Ronald hear you talking derogatory things like that, bloody hell."

Tonks smirked. "Sounds like you've a wee bit of traitor in you, too."

Charlie grumbled under his breath. Then, "You know how many fits Ron would pitch if he knew Oliver Kent was right there - right there in that tent?"

"Oh he isn't there yet. He's late."

"Late?"

"Yeah, his port key arrived without him about fifteen minutes ago. Ludo Bagman's walking about letting all his guests know the luncheons postponed by an hour and we've got a couple aurors off to Devon now. Everyone on the Ministry's on high alert today... Sirius Black was spotted in Liverpool like two weeks ago now and they're all certain he was on his way here." She rolled her eyes.

"And he is actually....? Where?"

"Heaven knows." She paused, then leaned closer to Charlie. "But I think my friend might be with him. I went to Haworth the other day and his house was a right mess. Stuff everywhere, things all smashed and broken. But no sign of any struggle or anything. I did a very thorough investigation, too, and I think that they were both there - I found evidence that was very compelling including --" she glanced around and then, grinning, unbuttoned her Auror's uniform jacket and revealed she was wearing underneath... a hot pink t-shirt that read I'M LOST AND RETURNING TO REMUS LUPIN. 

"Why the hell are you wearing that?" Charlie asked.

"Because my cousin is the funniest man alive and I love him." 

"You're MAD."

Tonks giggled and closed up the jacket, buttoning it up quickly. "Don't tell." 

"I literally have no reason or desire to ever tell anyone that you are wearing that."

"Good."

"So what do they think's happened? That Black's like -- gone to Devon and kidnapped Oliver Kent?" Charlie asked, eyebrow raised.

"That is literally exactly, precisely what they think."

"That is literally, exactly, precisely the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Well, he is a muggle-born," Tonks shrugged, "And he's famous. They reckon a Death Eater at large like Sirius Black would be pleased to kidnap him. I mean, I think the Ministry's right to go looking for him. Anything could've happened."

"Yeah. Why didn't they send you to go look, too?"

"I'm on Harry Duty." Tonks gestured toward where Harry was laughing with Ron and the twins while Bill and Arthur were struggling with the tent posts and Percy Weasley was getting frustrated, reading the manual that had come with the tent - neither Arthur nor Bill seemed to be listening to Percy's shouted instructions. 

"Oh." He paused, then, "Well, my dad plans on cooking dinner over a fire tonight, so honestly he's more likely to die from undercooked sausage than he is from any death eater attacks at the World Cup. The way this place is crawling with security, there's no way there's any death eaters going to attack here."

Tonks shrugged, "Constant vigilance, as Mad-Eye would say." She looked around, "I'll tell you what, he'd have this place teeming with a heck of a lot more Death Eaters than they've got here today. Especially on Harry duty." She paused, standing up straight, "Ohp! Looks like I'm off... You want to come for a walk with me, Cha-cha?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione had just turned and set off among the campers strewn across the field carrying a kettle and two large saucepans.

Charlie shook his head, "Nawh, that's alright. I'm actually thinking of taking a bit of a nap. Mum had us up before the sun this mornin' and you know how these games are..." 

"Well, wotcher then, Cha-cha. I'll check in on you lot later!" Tonks sing-songed and she danced off among the tents, nearly tripping on a large plastic swan out front of one of them, twirling to regain her balance from her near dive and catching the tails of her coat on an iron pig-shaped weathervane at another. "Goodness," she gasped, tugging free. "The things people bring to a bleedin' campsite!"

"So much for the Ministry mandate to camp like muggles," Charlie laughed.

Tonks shook her head, "The day a muggle brought along pearlescent peacocks to graze in front of their tent like that lot over there is the day they turn orange and do the Oompa Loompa dance." She squinted, her hair turned green and her face orange and she winked at Charlie before her face returned to normal and the hair faded pink again. "Bye Cha-cha. Sweet dreams of dragons."

Charlie waved, heading over to where Arthur and Bill were still struggling with the second tent.

"IF YOU'D FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS IT WOULDN'T BE SO HARD!" Percy was wailing.

Oliver Kent had fallen asleep. 

He woke now at the sound of his name being called from afar and he sat up, grass falling from his blonde hair. He was in a small grove of fruit trees that lined the far end of his property, the cows dotting the hill below and the field that went all the way to his back door. The fat brown things were peacefully munching grass and he saw, far off in the distance, the gray forms of several people searching about his house, calling his name.

"Bloody hell," he murmured.

The air was sweet with the smell of the fruit, tinged green from the sunlight penetrating through the leaves. He shook his head, getting the last of the grass and twigs out of it, and glanced at the watch on his wrist. He was over an hour late to his own luncheon. 

"Great."

Oliver stretched his shoulders back, his spine making a soft popping-crack of a sound as it realigned. He'd have to go visit his mum back in Diagon Alley and have her coax his disks back in a row. She'd done it periodically ever since '79 when he'd come to live with her and dad. They'd be pleased to have a visit from him, he reckoned - it'd been too long... Or maybe it would work itself out and he wouldn't have to go. After all. It'd been too long for a reason. 

He glanced at the stone he'd fallen asleep leaning against.

"MR. KENT?" voices carried over the grounds and he sighed.

"You know, sometimes I wish I'd just gone and become - I don't know - a bloody librarian or something," Oliver muttered, and he pushed himself up to his feet. "A teacher or a shop keeper or some boring thing that meant nobody gave a damn where I was or what I was doing or anything at all..."

Oliver paused, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small trinket he'd tucked in on his way out the door. It was a matchbox car. He looked it over, then gently placed it on the top of the stone. "I gotta go," he whispered.

Raising his arm, he commanded, "UP!" and the broomstick shot into his palm.

Taking off, the trees rustled in his tail wind and he shot off across the field toward the house, leaving behind the stone with the little matchbox car upon it, the sunlight crossing over the name carved into the granite.