With non-alcoholic butterbeer and fried potatoes, we ate boar. Hermione was so thoroughly and professionally taken in by the girls that even the boys sympathized with me. Though they didn't know what it was. Whether it was that I couldn't sit with her in front of the fire and talk about this and that, or whether they were afraid of what the others would advise her.

At the second hour, we were dispersed by the adults, who thought we had been sitting too long. We returned to the tent in high spirits, though Hermione was clearly embarrassed. Confused about everything, and it amused me. ​​

"I'm going to bed," trying to make her voice sound important, the girl with the red ears quickly disappeared into her room, if you can call that a dense cloth and a screen enclosing a section of the tent.

I smirked after her, sat down on the couch, lit the fireplace, and began to create another record of information from the Restricted Section - I didn't want to sleep.

The morning of the fifth day, the last, the night on which the Quidditch World Cup finals would be played, began with the couch and slight pain in my neck. I fell asleep uncomfortably, but at least someone covered me with a blanket. Why "someone," though? It was obvious who - Hermione. There was something squeaking in the kitchen, and the scent of fried bacon wafted through the tent.

I quickly jumped off the couch and washed my face, then broke into the kitchen.

"Morning, what's for breakfast?"

Hermione turned around from the stove, looking up at me and smiling.

"Morning. Food."

"That's good, definitely."

Quickly setting the table with the classic scrambled eggs with bacon, sausage, and sliced vegetables, we began eating.

"Don't you have anything you want to say to me?" after dealing with the food, I turned to Hermione.

"There was that thought," the girl nodded. "But I believe you knew what you were getting into. At least it was without grievous bodily harm. For you. But did you see how those guys got hurt?"

"What's the big deal? It's a common thing in a fight," I shrugged.

"But it ain't right."

"Boys are always fighting. Fighting for something, honor, dignity, glory, women. It's inevitable. It's our nature to dominate. No matter what, the urge to dominate is in our blood. Some more, some less. Well, I think so."

"What about social norms? The rules, the laws?"

"That's why dominance escalates into various intrigues, conspiracies, politics, and other areas of activity, but it remains dominance. Strength and fighting is an easy way to decide who is right. Tricky? Get punched in the forehead. Too smart, get punched in the forehead. Rich? Get punched in the head, you and your bodyguards. It seems to me that such fights help some people to blow off steam in the ring, others to quench their thirst for violence and entertainment from the stands. In the end, everyone's happy, and the organizers get money."

"Oh... Boys..."

After breakfast, we went for a walk around the morning camp. In fact, this trip broke my training schedule entirely. I don't even know what exactly the reasons were, but somehow it just happened, which means that I'm going to have to put a lot of pressure on my training at Hogwarts.

I was amazed again at the unwillingness of wizards to think and at least to draw water with the Aguamenti without leaving the tent. We walked to the Irish camp, where we met Seamus and Dean, who were already cooking something on the fire. Seamus' mom was directly in charge of the cooking over an open fire.

"Oh, that's our champion!" smiled Seamus cheerfully, almost collapsing the skewers stuck around the fire with an awkward movement.

"Ouch..." Dean tried to stop the skewers from falling into the fire, and he succeeded, but the guy got burned and started blowing on his fingers. "Damn it..."

We said hello to the guys. None of the other Hogwarts students were around, which certainly contributed to a calmer atmosphere. Nothing lasts forever, however.

"Oh, newcomers in our ranks," Seamus smiled, looking behind me.

"Pffff... Something's about to happen..." Dean decided to move the skewers but once again only burned himself.

I turned around and saw Ron and Harry coming toward us. Both of them were wearing their usual clothes, and it seemed surprising that they were wearing the same shabby clothes. They had kettles and buckets in their hands and were obviously on their way to the water pump. At the sight of us, the guys' enthusiasm waned somewhat, but the redhead and the bespectacled one decided to follow through and say hello to their not bad acquaintances.

"Hey guys," Ron and Harry shook hands with Seamus and Dean affably.

"Hey."

"What... Those..." Ron nodded his head grudgingly in our direction, " here to do?"

"Oh, more friends of Seamus," Mrs. Finnigan smiled. "I hope you're rooting for Ireland, too?"

The boys were clearly greatly embarrassed by such a question, and they hastened to swear that they were, hurrying away.

"Looks like," Mrs. Finnigan turned to us with a sly smile, "you have some sort of conflict with these fellows?"

"Just a little bit"

"I see. The usual thing, school, Hogwarts. I remember I didn't get along much with one girl in my year, either. Best friends now. Give the boys a chance."

"You're just like Dumbledore. Ready to give everyone a second chance," I said, not without a snide remark, but I couldn't help it.

"Dumbledore is a wise old man who has seen a lot in his lifetime. His opinion should at least be taken into consideration."