Hogwarts Card Drawer

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Next day, "it's almost time," said Mr. Greengrass, taking out his pocket watch again. "Have you left nothing behind, boys?"

"No, Dad." Kronos and Daphne shook their heads together.

"Okay, just grab my clothes." Mr. Greengrass stretched out his arms, "Just hook it with one finger."

They stood there in a tight circle, and no one spoke as a cool breeze blew across Kronos' cheek.

Kronos suddenly thought why he didn't make a teleportation magic circle to help him travel? He really had had enough of the distorting sensation of Apparating.

"Three..." muttered Mr. Greengrass with one eye on his pocket watch, "two...one...."

This feeling was so familiar to Kronos that it couldn't be more familiar. Kronos felt that there seemed to be a hook behind his navel that slammed forward with irresistible momentum.

He could feel Daphne and Astoria on either side of him, their shoulders bumping against his. They flew forward like a gust of wind.

"Whoosh!" With a sound, Kronos' feet touched the ground again, and Daphne stood firmly beside him.

But her younger sister, Astoria, seemed to be apparating for the first time. He staggered into Kronos and fell to the ground with a slap.

"Eleven past six, from Mount Seymour." Only one voice said.

"Good morning, Bayer." Mr. Greengrass put his wand back into his robe.

Chronos pulled Astoria up who was struggling on the ground. The place they had come to looked like a vast, desolate, misty swamp.

In front of them, stood two thin, tired, and sullen wizards, one of them was holding a large gold watch, the other was holding a thick roll of parchment and a quill.

"Hello, Greengrass." Baier yawned, "You are so lucky that you don't work in the Department of Magical Sports and Sports, otherwise, you would be like me... no one will replace you. Stay here all night."

Mr Greenglass smiled,

He knew he shouldn't be irritating this man.

"Let me see..." Baier looked at the roll of parchment in his hand, "Your camp... walk about a quarter of a mile from here, then turn left and there is the second field. Camp management The agent is Mr Roberts."

"Thank you, Bayle," said Mr. Greengrass, beckoning them all to follow him.

We walked through the desolate swamp, and we could hardly see anything in the thick fog. After walking for about twenty minutes, gradually a door appeared in front of them, and then a small stone house.

Chronos could barely make out the hundreds of strangely shaped tents behind the stone house, rising up the gentle slope of a large field that stretched all the way to a dark forest on the horizon.

Kronos and the others went straight to the tent behind the stone house.

"Hey! Name." A voice suddenly came out of the stone house.

"Good morning, are you Mr. Roberts?" said Mr. Greengrass energetically.

"Good morning, who are you?" asked Mr. Roberts.

"Greengrass, a tent."

"Well..." Mr. Roberts turned his head to look at a watch pasted on the door of the stone house. "Your tent is in a place in the woods over there."

"Oh, thank you," said Mr. Greengrass.

"This is the floor plan of the camp." Mr. Roberts said to Mr. Greengrass calmly.

"Thank you." Mr. Greengrass took the crumpled parchment.

They were accompanied by a wizard in lantern trousers. He looked very tired, his unshaven chin was livid, and there were livid shadows under his eyes.

They trudged across the misty field, between two long rows of tents. Most tents look like nothing special.

But the tent owners don't think so. They have worked hard to make their tents as diverse as possible.

Some of them wanted to imitate Muggle houses, and added a chimney to the tent like a superfluous snake, and the result was nondescript. Some tents are set up as high as a four-story building, and some tents have a garden in front of the door, with birdbaths, sundials, and fountains inside.

They walked through this field, and there was another tent camp exactly like him in front of it on the left. The conversation didn't go far, and in an inconspicuous place, there was a small sign on the ground, which read: Greengrass.

"Is this place okay?" Mr. Greengrass seemed to be talking to himself, and seemed to be asking Chronos for his opinion.

"The stadium is over there in the woods. You can go there to play for a while first. Just leave it to Dad to build a tent or something." Mr. Greengrass unloaded the backpack on his shoulders and walked from the inside He took out a tent that looked like a snakeskin bag.

"Let's go! Chronos." Daphne tugged at the corner of Chronos's clothes, "I heard that there are some hoop games that Muggles like to play!"

"Huh?" Kronos raised his brows. Wouldn't it be easy for wizards to play Muggle games?

But seeing the interested expressions of the two little girls, Kronos was too embarrassed to say no.

At this time, the sun had just risen, and the mist gradually dispersed. They saw tents in all directions, and they could not see the end at a glance. Some wizards were carrying kettles and saucepans looking for a tap.

Daphne and Astoria stretched their necks and looked around, let alone the two of them. Even Kronos had never seen so many wizards, especially so many foreign wizards.

"Their wizard robes seem to be different from ours!" Astoria, who was two years younger than her sister, shared what she had observed.

"Is it normal?" Kronos said, "Although the customs of various countries in Europe are not much different, they are still multiple countries in essence. It's like different nations have different costumes."

They continued to walk forward, and they saw a group of middle-aged American witches sitting in front of their tents, chatting and laughing happily. A shiny banner hung high between their tents: Salem Witch Academy.

"Mr. Slughorn!" Kronos vaguely heard someone calling his name.

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