After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

They stood there, gathered in a tight circle, a cool breeze blowing across the top of the mountain, and no one spoke.

Lamia suddenly felt that this was too much like some strange ritual. She suddenly thought, if a Muggle happened to walk by here at this moment, how strange the scene would be. Nine people, two of them adults, holding this tattered old boot in the dim light, quietly waiting...

"Three..." Mr. Weasley kept one eye on his pocket watch and murmured, "Two...one..."

In the blink of an eye, Lamia felt as if a hook was hooked forward from behind her belly button with irresistible momentum, and her feet left the ground and flew up, which was much faster than Lamia herself.

She could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of her, Harry behind her, their shoulders bumping against hers.

They flew forward like a gust of wind, and they could see nothing clearly. Lamia's index finger was glued to the boot, and it seemed as if the boot had a magnetic force, pulling her forward, pulling her forward, and then -

Her feet landed hard on the ground, and Hermione stumbled into her, she hadn't looked well from the start.

The Portkey clattered to the ground beside Harry's head.

Lamia looked up and saw that only Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory and Cedric were still standing, but their hair was disheveled and tilted by the wind. The others had fallen to the ground.

"Five o'clock, from Weasel Mountain." A voice was heard.

Lamia looked over and saw that the place they had come to looked like a large, desolate, misty swamp.

Before them stood two weary, sullen-looking wizards, one holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill.

Both were dressed like Muggles, but in a very poor way: the man with the gold watch in a tweed suit and thigh-high galoshes; his colleague in a Highlander kilt and a South American cape.

Lamia found it a little funny that they didn't look as good as Mr. Weasley.

"Good morning, Basil," Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the wizard in the kilt. He tossed it into a large box beside him filled with used portkeys. Lamia's sharp eyes spotted an old newspaper, an empty can, and a battered football.

"Hello, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? Some people are very lucky. We've been here all night. You'd better get out of the way. There's a large group coming from Black Forest at five-fifteen. Wait a moment while I find out where your camp is - Weasley... Weasley..." He searched on the parchment list.

"It's the first campsite up ahead, about a quarter of a mile away. Mr. Roberts is the groundskeeper. Diggory... you're in the second campsite... look for Mr. Payne."

"Thank you, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned them all to follow him.

Lamia turned around and looked in the direction they came from. There was nothing there, as if they had really appeared out of thin air.

After a while, Mr. Weasley led them through the endless swamp. Lamia's eyes were covered by the thick fog and she could not see anything.

But as they walked further and further, a doorway gradually appeared before them, then a small stone house, and behind it Lamia could just make out thousands of oddly shaped tents that rose up the gentle slope of a large field that stretched toward a dark forest on the horizon.

There was a man standing in the doorway, looking out over the tents, and Lamia could tell at a glance that he was the only real Muggle in the whole place—she could tell by the smell of him.

When the man heard their footsteps, he turned and looked at them.

"Good morning!" said Mr. Weasley cheerfully.

"Good morning!" said the Muggle.

"Are you Mr. Roberts?"

"Ah, indeed," said Mr. Roberts. "Who are you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked two days ago, are they available?"

"Yes," said Mr. Roberts, glancing at a watch on the door. "You have a place over there by the woods. Only for one night?"

"Yes," said Mr. Weasley.

"Well, will you pay me now?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah — yes — no problem —" said Mr. Weasley, stepping back from where he was standing and motioning Harry to come over.

"Help me, Harry," he whispered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and separating the notes. "This one's - er - er - ten? Oh, yes, I saw the small number printed on it... so this one's five..."

Lamia watched them boredly, and Mr. Weasley's movements were so awkward that even Mr. Roberts began to look over in surprise.

"Uh, here's the money." Mr. Weasley picked up a dozen banknotes and handed them directly to Mr. Roberts without paying any attention to what Harry had just taught him.

"Mr. Weasley, forgive me for being frank, but the amount of money you gave me is wrong." Roberts was very surprised. He tightened his hand holding the money slightly, as if he realized something was wrong.

Just when Lamia was worried about Mr. Weasley, Roberts thought of the most acceptable reason for him.

"Could it be that you're all foreigners?" His expression suddenly relaxed. "That's not surprising. I thought you were some legendary wizards. Otherwise, why would you be using such old banknotes? You know, they've been discontinued..."

Roberts rambled on, returning the extra stuff to Mr. Weasley and handing him a paper map. "A few years ago, I actually saw wizards in the newspaper. You wouldn't know, they all had green faces and fangs..."

Everyone was shocked. George even wanted to punch the Muggle. How could he look so fierce and ugly? He was such a handsome young man.

"Well, we haven't seen any wizards, but they shouldn't exist, hahaha." Mr. Weasley laughed awkwardly as he pushed the children into the camp one by one. Ron, who was walking behind, did not forget to take the map. "It's getting late. We have to set up the tent, Mr. Roberts."

"Hey, there really are wizards, why doesn't anyone believe me..." Roberts shook his head and walked away disappointedly.

Everyone walked into the camp. Mr. Weasley was busy taking the tent out of his backpack. Hermione, who was at the back, was about to talk to Lamia, but suddenly found that Lamia was missing!