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Without wasting any more time talking, we hurried to the camp, which was decorated with tents of all shapes and sizes. Though most were still asleep, the rare wizards or young children who didn't want to lie in their beds in the morning came out of their tents and did whatever the hell it was they were doing. The kids were messing around, flying on children's brooms, but very low, looking around, flying behind the tents, hiding from unfamiliar adults. Adults, if they were not Aurors, who could easily be recognized by their gaze seeking violation, were arguing about how to make a fire and whether to make a fire at all. Why it was suddenly necessary to go for water and not to conjure Aguamenti, because no one would notice, and so on. The scenes in which two or three adult wizards tried to get another supposedly not like muggle dressed wizard to change his clothes were amusing, even though the options they offered were far from adequate.

"I'll never understand those who have been in the magical world since birth," looked around and spoke to Hermione as we walked approximately in the direction we wanted, where our plot was supposed to be.

"What exactly?"

The girl looked around curiously at both the wizards and the tents. Yes, they had tried to disguise them as ordinary tents, but sometimes they overdid it, with the chimney, or the weather vane, some string and bells. Here and there, we saw various flagpoles and other symbols of either countries, wizard groups, or fans of national teams.

"Common people and wizards have roughly the same style of dress. Well, wizards have a more conservative style or something. At the same time, mind you, there are jackets, pants, shirts, underwear, and anything practically indistinguishable from ordinary things. And the purpose of the clothes is the same. Sportswear, business, casual. But for some reason, when they turn their attention to the world of ordinary people, wizards suddenly lose their sense of style, taste, and, in general, their sense of adequacy. What the hell is that?"

I pointed my hand at a man in his fifties, who was dressed in slacks, tall rubber overshoes, a long blond floral nightgown, and a straw hat. Hermione covered a smile with her palm, laughing muffledly.

"Obviously, this is a client of a psychiatric hospital!" I resented, though quietly, but the intonation implied something else entirely. "But when he returns to the magical world, he'll look like a normal person right away. How so, eh?!"

As we walked to the spot, the camp gradually woke up, and there were more and more sleepy wizards leaving their tents. Eventually, we reached a small patch of ground with a sign "Knight" embedded in it.

"Quite a small place," Hermione examined the patch of land doubtfully.

"Well, it could have been like those guys over there," I nodded toward the big tent, which was shaped like a small palace. This miracle stood on a decent-sized plot, in the middle of a miniature park around a fountain. "But somehow a little expensive."

Taking the folded tent off and laying it on the ground, I looked around. Local law enforcement is going crazy here - you have to pretend to be Muggles on vacation, no magic.

"What's going on?" Hermione was interested in my behavior.

"Just looking for the Aurors," I furtively pulled my wand from the holster on my forearm and waved it surreptitiously, activating the deployment spells built into the tent.

As if by magic, the tent seemed to inflate from within, and the pegs with the stretched ropes of the bindings pushed themselves into the ground. The result was a quite ordinary brown tent. Outwardly, like many other tents, it didn't seem to shine with interior space, but a complex of invisible expansion charms made it into a small apartment. What I found most amusing was that even when it was rolled up, the interior of the tent remained unchanged, but in my bag, it warped a bit.

The tent itself was tall enough not to duck going in, much less crawling back and forth, and the magically reinforced and enchanted bindings will allow the tent to hold up under almost any conditions. Well, a powerful tornado might carry it away.

Pushing the canopy aside, I gestured invitingly inside.

"Please come in."

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a smile and stepped inside, and I followed her.