As more and more people gathered on the field, the tents gradually lost their eclectic flair.
Once the first Bulgaria Team flag appeared on a tent, everyone else couldn't sit still and started decorating their own tents with their team's symbols. The field soon divided sharply into rival camps.
Occasionally, a Bulgaria supporter would suddenly appear in the Ireland Team fans' camp, but the next second, that person would pack up and move their tent to the other side.
At times like this, the Ministry of Magic members in charge of the grounds would simply turn a blind eye and pretend they hadn't seen anything.
But the Weasleys didn't get involved.
After all, there were so many of them, and they supported a mix of teams—no way to reach a consensus. Even if they wanted to take sides, it just wasn't possible, so they remained neutral and enjoyed the spectacle.
"I've never seen so many foreign wizards in one place," Harry said, coming back to the tent with a bucket of water as they waited for lunch.
This was already his second trip to fetch water.
Harry actually liked this job, because on his way each time, he'd meet wizards he'd never seen before in his life.
For example, not far from their tent were three African wizards with faces painted in some kind of colors. Harry had never seen them use a wand... because all they had to do was wiggle their fingers and the meat on their grill would turn over on its own.
"Those people are amazing," Harry whispered to Ron. "I remember Professor Flitwick once mentioned this is wandless spellcasting—a really advanced skill. Even seventh-years might not be able to learn it."
"But they look about fifteen or sixteen, not much older than us."
"No, Harry." Bill happened to walk by and overheard. He lowered his voice. "They're from Uagadou School of Magic. They're not used to using wands—they prefer the ancient style, spell-casting with gestures."
"Uagadou School of Magic...?" Harry echoed.
"Yeah," said Bill. "It's in the African Moon Mountain, just as old as Hogwarts. Over there, wands are about the least important item a wizard can own."
Harry nodded, doing his best to look less astonished than he felt.
Seeing so many different wizards from all over the world, he suddenly realized how silly he'd been to think Hogwarts was the only magic school.
Soon, Kreacher had lunch ready.
Since there were so many of them, it was too crowded to eat inside the tent, so Mr. Weasley set up a big table outside.
Everyone gathered around, eating lunch and chatting about the upcoming match.
Ron went all out describing how incredible Viktor Krum was, trying to convince others to join him in supporting Bulgaria, but it wasn't very effective.
Even Cedric pretended not to hear... He was the only one present who was a Seeker himself, yet rooted for the Ireland Team.
The other two Seekers, Harry and Charlie, were dedicated Bulgaria fans all the way.
As Ron emphasized Krum's age for the third time, Mr. Weasley suddenly got up with a smile, waving at a man striding toward them.
"Ha ha!" he called. "The man of the hour—Ludo!"
Ludo Bagman was dressed in his old Wimbourne Wasps robes, and it made him easy to spot. But the robes were clearly a little too tight these days, stretched over his big stomach—clearly pulled out at the last minute, with no time for alterations.
"Aha, Arthur! What are you eating? I could smell it a mile away," Bagman shouted happily, bouncing as he walked, as if he had springs in his shoes. He was obviously in a wildly good mood.
"Just an ordinary lunch," said Mr. Weasley. "If you don't mind, you're welcome to join us."
"I'd love to, but unfortunately, I've already promised Volkov I'd have lunch with him."
Bagman grinned. "That young Bulgarian Beater is clearly hoping to pick up a few tricks from me—cunning lad, but I rather like him."
Mr. Weasley laughed along politely.
Right then, Percy hurried forward and stuck out his hand, eager to make a good impression on the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
"Ah, I almost forgot to introduce you." Mr. Weasley smiled. "This is my son Percy—just started at the Ministry of Magic. And there's Bill, and Charlie—they both work abroad and just returned... That's Kael, and Cedric..."
Mr. Weasley introduced everyone in turn, but Bagman didn't seem particularly interested. He only glanced up briefly when he heard Kael's name.
By the time Mr. Weasley got to Harry, Bagman's eyes flicked instantly to the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Let me introduce him," seeing Hermione's puzzled look, he went on, "This is Ludo Bagman, the greatest Beater Wimbourne Wasps ever had—he even played for England in the World Cup!
And we got these amazing tickets all thanks to him."
Bagman waved away the praise with a wide smile, as if to say it was nothing at all.
"Fancy a little bet on the match, Arthur?"
After the small talk, he got to the heart of his visit. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting with me that Bulgaria will score first... Little Agatha Timms put up half her farm, betting the match lasts a week."
"Oh, all right," said Mr. Weasley. "I'll put up a Galleon on Ireland to win, all right?"
He hadn't really wanted to get involved, but since Bagman had helped them get such excellent seats, he decided to play along.
"One Galleon?" Bagman sounded a little disappointed but quickly recovered. "Fine... Anyone else fancy a flutter?"
"We...ow!"
Fred had just opened his mouth when he doubled over with a yelp.
Kael moved his foot off Fred's shoe and said smoothly, "Sorry, Mr. Bagman, he was going to say we've just bought loads of mementos, so we're pretty much skint... is five Copper Knuts all right?"
"Oh, I could never take your last bit of spending money," Bagman replied politely, which was as good as a refusal.
He turned back to Mr. Weasley. "Can you give me a hand? I've been trying to find Barty Crouch. The Bulgarian Ministry of Magic officials are deliberately making things difficult, and I can't understand a word they say. But Barty can—he speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."
"Mr. Crouch?" Percy perked up at the name, squirming with excitement.
He looked exactly like Ron had a moment ago when talking about Krum.
"Mr. Crouch can speak two hundred languages—you know, Merpeople, Turkey, even Troll..."
"Wow!" Kael said in genuine awe.
If it was just Merpeople and Troll, he was fine too, but Turkey... that was beyond him.
But then again, who in their right mind would want to talk to a turkey?
"Yeah, you're right," Bagman said lazily. "In that area, Barty really is amazing. Oh, speak of the devil—here he is! Barty!"
A wizard appeared beside them with Side-Along Apparition.
At the sight of him, Percy was so excited he was nearly hyperventilating, shaking like a Mandrake pulled out of its pot.
"Ludo, I've been looking everywhere for you," said Crouch, his eyes instantly locking onto Bagman. "The Bulgarians insist on having another twelve seats in the top box. You'd better talk to them about it before the match starts."