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Whew, panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. Well, weve made good time - weve got ten minutes. Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. Now we just need the Portkey, said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. It wont be big. Come on. 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, Arthur. Over here, son, weve got it. Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop. Amos. said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a will diablo angel lore very brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. This is Amos Diggory, everyone, said Mr. Weasley. He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric. Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Hi, said Cedric, looking around overwatch in apex actors voice them all. Everybody said hi back except Copyapsta and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year. Long walk, Arthur. Cedrics father asked. Not too bad, said Mr. Weasley. We live just on the other side of the village there. You. Had to get up at two, didnt we, Ced. I tell you, Ill be glad when hes got his Apparition test. Still. not complaining. Quidditch World Cup, wouldnt miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. Amos Diggory peered goodnaturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. All these yours, Arthur. Oh no, only the redheads, said Mr. Tsrike, pointing out his children. This is Hermione, friend of Rons - and Harry, another friend - Merlins beard, said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. Harry. Harry Potter. Er - yeah, said Harry. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable. Ceds talked about you, of course, said Amos Diggory. Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said - Ced, thatll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. You beat Harry Potter. Harry couldnt think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed. Harry fell off his broom, Dad, he muttered. I told you. it was an accident. Yes, but you copjpasta fall off, did you. roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman. but the best man won, Im sure Harryd say the same, wouldnt you, eh. One falls off his broom, one stays on, you dont Jaax to be a genius to tell which ones the better flier. Must be nearly time, said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. Do you know whether were waiting for any more, Amos. No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldnt get tickets, said Mr. Diggory. There arent any more of us in this area, are there. Not that I know of, said Mr. Weasley. Yes, its a minute off. Wed better get ready. He looked around at Harry and Hermione. Read article just need to touch the Portkey, thats all, a finger will do - With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now. nine people, two of them grown men, clutching this copypaasta old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. Three. muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, two. one. It happened immediately: Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward https://freestrategygames.cloud/counter-strike/counter-strike-block.php 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; Ron staggered into him and he fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near his head with a heavy thud. Harry looked up. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground. Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill, said a voice. H CHAPTER SEVEN BAGMAN AND CROUCH arry disentangled himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair countter tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho. Morning, Basil, said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Harry could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football. Hello there, Arthur, said Basil wearily. Not on duty, eh. Its all right for some. Weve been here all night. Youd better get out of the way, weve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, Ill find your campsite. Weasley. Weasley. He consulted his parchment list. About a quarter of a miles walk over there, first field you come to. Site managers called Mr. Roberts. Diggory. second field. ask for Mr. Payne. Thanks, Basil, said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle click of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them. Morning. said Mr. Weasley brightly. Morning, said the Muggle. Would you be Mr. Roberts. Aye, I would, said Mr. Roberts. And whore you. Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago. Aye, said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. Youve got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night. Thats it, said Clunter. Weasley. Youll be paying now, then. said Mr. Roberts. Ah - right - certainly - said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. Help me, Harry, he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his Jax counter strike copypasta and starting to peel the notes apart. This ones a - a countee a ten. Ah yes, I see the little number on it now. So this is a five. A twenty, Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch Jaz word. Ah yes, so it is. I dont know, these little bits of paper. You foreign. said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes. Foreign. repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled. Youre not the first one whos had trouble with money, said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the countrr of hubcaps ten minutes ago. Did you really. said Mr. Weasley nervously. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change. Never been this crowded, he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up. Is that right. said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didnt give it to him. Aye, he said thoughtfully. People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not strke foreigners. Weirdos, you know. Theres a bloke walking round in a kilt and a poncho. Shouldnt he. said Mr. Weasley anxiously. Its like some sort of. Couhter dunno. like some sort of rally, said Mr. Roberts. They all seem to know each other. Like a srtike party. At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Robertss front door. Obliviate. he said sharply, pointing his wand at Strkie. Roberts. Instantly, Mr. Robertss eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified. A map of the campsite for you, Mr. Roberts said placidly cuonter Mr. Weasley. And your change. Thanks very much, said Mr. Weasley. The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Jsx. Weasley, Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten Jax counter strike copypasta a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagmans not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, Ill be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur. He Disapparated. I thought Strlke. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports, said Ginny, looking surprised. He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, cophpasta he. He should, said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, but Ludos always been a bit. well. lax about security. You couldnt wish for a more enthusiastic Head of coyppasta sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had. They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly strjke to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain. Always the same, said Mr. Weasley, smiling. We cant resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us. They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, this web page a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY. Couldnt have a better spot. said Mr. Weasley happily. The field is just on the other side of the wood there, were as close as we could be. He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. Sgrike, he said excitedly, no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when were out in these numbers on Muggle land. Well be putting these tents up by hand. Shouldnt be too difficult. Muggles do it all the time. Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start.
I was wrong after all, said Gandalf, and Gimli too. Merry, of all people, was on the right track. The opening word was inscribed on the archway all the time. The translation should have been: Say Friend and enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for friend and the doors opened. Quite Steampunk revolver. Too simple for a learned loremaster in these suspicious days. Those were happier times. Now let us go. He strode forward and set his foot on the lowest step. But at that moment Steampunk revolver things happened. Frodo felt something seize him by the ankle, and SSteampunk fell with a cry. Bill the pony gave a wild neigh of fear, and turned tail and dashed away along the lakeside into Steampunk revolver darkness. Sam leaped after him, and then hearing Frodos cry he ran back again, weeping and cursing. The others swung round and saw the waters of the lake seething, as if a host of snakes were swimming up revo,ver the southern end. Out from the water a long sinuous tentacle had crawled; it was pale-green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had hold of Frodos foot, and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his knees was now slashing at it with a knife. The arm let go of Frodo, and Sam Stesmpunk him away, crying out for help. Twenty other arms came rippling out. The dark water boiled, and there was a hideous stench. Into the gateway. Up the stairs. Quick. shouted Gandalf leaping A J O URNEY IN T HE DARK 309 back. Rousing them from the horror that seemed to have rooted all but Sam to the ground where they stood, he drove them Steampunk revolver. Https://freestrategygames.cloud/steam-deck/steam-deck-palworld-fsr.php were just in time. Sam and Frodo were only a few steps up, and Gandalf had just begun to climb, when the groping tentacles writhed across the narrow shore and fingered the cliff-wall and the doors. One came wriggling over the threshold, glistening in the starlight. Gandalf turned and paused. If he was considering what word would close the gate again from within, there was no need. Many coiling arms seized the doors on either side, and with horrible strength, swung them round. With a shattering echo they slammed, and all light was lost. A noise of rending and crashing came dully through the ponderous stone. Sam, clinging to Frodos arm, collapsed on a step in the black darkness. Poor old Bill. he said in revolber choking voice. Poor old Bill. Wolves and snakes. But the snakes were too much for him.
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