The next morning was heralded by a shaft of light slicing into the tent. Looking over, Eric noted that Riley came in some time during the night to snuggle next to a shrouded lump that he assumed was the yet to be introduced Amelia. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, he made his way over to a partition behind which he could change into his day-clothes. Although many of the wizards would probably be going about traditional, he really preferred his black denim and crew shirt. Throwing his cloak over it all, he left the tent to search for Dorian. He had no doubt that he could muster some breakfast there.

Midget and Widget returned during the night, and were currently perched on a nearby tree. He couldn't tell if they had managed to catch anything or not, but they seemed content enough. He figured that there'd be enough owls about that the two of them wouldn't be too unusual a sight.

Asking about confirmed that he was, in fact, in the middle of the Karan Circle. Further, the Moons were only two tents over, as they also were members of Mahkab. Eric decided that a discreet inquiry into what the Circle and these various clans were supposed to be would be in order. He would not like to find himself in the middle of a plot to overthrow the Ministry. As much as he didn't like the bureaucracy, he was no anarchist.

Eric made his way about the various camps who were in the circle, waiting to see a familiar face. Some of the waking campers were having problems, for the rules of the camp apparently banned the use of magic outside of the tents. Although Eric didn't know too much about muggle artifacts, he was amazed at how few wizards knew how to use matches. The first lesson in Professor McGonagall's class was turning matchsticks into needles; it helped a lot if one knew what a matchstick was. However, with a burst of patience, he managed to instruct four camps on their uses and aided them in building proper campfires.

Heading back to Riley's tent, he decided to put his knowledge to use for his benefactors; by the time Riley and Amelia came out of their tent, a well tended fire awaited them. Amelia, it turned out, was a shorter blond woman who's gaudy clothing and friendly features radiated a desire to find the fun side of everything. "Well, good morning – and thank you so much for starting our fire. Are you ready for breakfast?"

Eric was more than ready. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Although embarrassed at how clumsy he was with even the simple kitchen items, Amelia was extremely patient, and soon they were all sitting down to waffles with syrup and bacon. Eric was all but through with his when a figure in a familiar cloak drifted by. "Hey, Naomi!"

The cloak spun about to face him. It was, in fact, Naomi; dressed in a one-piece bathing suit and still damp from a morning swim. Although the outfit was fairly modest, Eric had never seen Naomi in anything that wasn't formal or a school uniform. Her appearance that morning struck him differently than ever before, leaving him speechless until she snapped her fingers in front of him. "Eric?"

His head shook for a moment before looking up at her. "Oh, um, you look great... I mean, it's great to see you!" He cringed inside. He had known her for two years now, and never found himself at a loss for words. Now he couldn't even spit out a proper sentence without embarrassing himself.

It was Naomi, however, who bore the brunt of the discomfort. Noticing that her cloak had opened, she swiftly snapped it shut. At the same time, her face turned red; a brilliant scarlet that flushed out her features like he had never seen before. "I ... was out for some exercise. They've got a heated pool here and ... I should change." Drawing up her hood, she struck out for her camp with a quickened pace.

Eric slumped back down to his breakfast. He was mortified that he had embarrassed her. Naomi had always been nice to him, which was more than a little rare for someone who seemed raised without an ounce of tact. She seemed determined to follow in her father's ways – direct, polite, and to the point without too much concern for hypocritical diplomacy. It meant a lot to him that she made him an exception, and now he embarrassed her in public.

He was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a while before noticing Amelia chiming out, "Somebody loves someone – somebody loves someone – I've got a secret – I'm going to tell!" The tune was as infantile as the words, which drew out of Eric the same reaction that Naomi just expressed as he felt heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks. "Ooh, must be serious; your color's so pretty!" She dashed across the clearing, throwing her arms about Eric in a huge hug as she jumped up and down. "Eric's got a crush! Eric's got a crush!"

By this time, Eric's hair had shook its ties and was swaying about, falling about everywhere and turning into a complete mess. Clearing the space in front of his face, he looked over to Riley. "Is she always like this?"

Amelia answered for him. "Only when I have a new friend to play with!" She kissed him lightly on the cheek and gave him one more crushing hug before skipping back to her breakfast.

Riley finished off a tall cup of orange juice before drawing himself up. "Well, we should get you checked in." He drew out a roll of paper slips, which Eric recognized as muggle money. "There's a group that will be coming in by portkey in ten minutes. You'll mingle with them to get you actually past the front gate, then ask for me. I'll sign you in with our camp as my guest, so that nobody will ask questions. Easy enough?"

It certainly sounded simple, and getting into the portkey crowd was easy, since most of them spilled out of the gate opening onto the ground. He simply waited until the group started to gather together then mingled with the people on the edge. Once he was walking in, he asked about Riley and Amelia in order to create a trail of witnesses that would swear that he came in on the Ten-Oh-Five portkey.

He brought Riley back with him to check in and pay his fees for the week. It all went as smoothly as could be hoped, until he heard his name called out. Turning about, he felt his stomach twist in knots watching the figure of Dolores Umbridge crossing the camp towards him. "Hem, hem – young man, I wonder if I could speak to you for a minute?"

Eric bit hard against his first reply – that she never seemed to have a problem before, so why now? "Yes, Ms. Umbridge?"

She drew out a clipboard and adjusted her glasses. "I understand that you arrived last night, is that correct?"

Eric waited before answering, considering his words so that he could avoid any traps. "I arrived about twenty minutes ago, using a portkey."

"Indeed, and that portkey came from?" Clearly she suspected something, but was hunting for proof.

Fortunately, Riley had already briefed Eric on the nature of the portkey, apparently anticipating trouble. "It was the moth-eaten felt hat from Plymouth."

"Yes, yes – hmm, Plymouth. That's a long way from London." Her eyes narrowly peered at Eric through her glasses.

"Since the Ministry withdrew my writ to use magic, I've had to widen my range in order to maintain enough projects to make ends meet." No sense in appearing anything less than disgruntled.

"Hmm, hmm – I see; and the nature of that project was..." She seemed ready to pounce.

"None of the Ministry's business." Eric knew it would get him in trouble, but he was getting tired of the scrutiny.

Without warning, a stern voice rose from behind Eric. "Excuse me, but what business does a Ministry Special Undersecretary have with a young carpenter?" Turning about, he found himself flanked by the imposing figure of Roger Wainwright.

Dolores puffed up in response. "We have reason to believe that this young man has violated the decrees against the underage use of magic, as well as breaching the security of this gathering – putting us all in dire jeopardy. May I ask what business it is of yours?"

Roger handed her a card. "It has come to my attention that the Ministry of Magic has focused an unusual amount of attention on one Eric Sable. Due to his youth, the presence of an adult advocate is appropriate." Roger straightened his tie with a single-handed move before continuing. "Circumstances have come to suggest a pattern of harassment against him, apparently the result of his unknowingly taking on clients that the Ministry did not approve of. When he refused to breach a lawful contract, the Ministry curtailed his operations." Roger straightened his suit. "Ms. Umbridge, there are many ways to distribute this information to the public, along with a number of other Ministry excesses that have become increasingly common. Although the Ministry appears to have a tight grip on the Daily Prophet, other means are available."

Dolores suddenly appeared extremely unsettled. "Mister Wainwright, I assure you that every measure or action taken by the Ministry of Magic is meant strictly for the best interests of the magical community and well within our jurisdiction. Furthermore, nothing you have said has any bearing on the matter at hand."

Roger was unaffected. "A matter which would require evidence before any Ministry official could pursue it, and one which would best be handled by an Auror, not a petty bureaucrat." Eric wondered how many of the witnesses caught that Roger was commenting on her personality, rather than her position. "I trust you can, at least, present evidence to support your claim?"

Dolores sputtered and stammered. "A matter of this importance must be acted on immediately..."

Roger smiled. "I'll take that as a no. Consider yourself notified that any further harassment of Eric Sable will result in most unfortunate consequences. As this conversation has ended, I suggest you proceed elsewhere."

Ms. Umbridge locked eyes with Mr. Wainwright for an intense minute before turning and leaving. Roger made sure she was out of sight before turning back to Eric. "I trust any condemning evidence can be discretely eliminated?"

Eric turned to him, shaking off the surprise before answering. "Um, yeah. I mean; yes sir. I'll make sure nobody will find a thing. But, if you knew that I really was guilty, why did you stand up for me?"

Roger set his hand on Eric's shoulder and directed him back to camp. "I didn't know for sure until just now. The fact is, the only thing the rumors about camp have is that someone arrived by broomstick last night. Whoever it was traveled light, fast, and left no trails. Nobody showing up today has any idea where they came from, though the Ministry is sure that they resided in the near vicinity, since nobody would be crazy enough to fly more than an hour in the dead of night."

Eric snickered. "Why not? It's the best cover – everything's dark and nobody's looking."

"Which is the reason why I felt justified in supporting you. Yes, you broke the written law; but you respected the spirit of it. You saw to it that you weren't observed and you didn't disrupt the defenses and wards protecting this place. You were discreet and no one is the worse for it. What they would do to you would be based entirely on your defiance of their rules, and would no doubt be far too extreme and completely unjustified. Therefore, I defended you, and would do so again, if the circumstances were similar."

Eric let himself have a sigh of relief. With luck, his hosts would feel the same. Seeing the camp, he immediately met with Riley and Amelia, to find out how to hide his incriminating property. They both came up with the same answer: he'd have to speak with Grandmother Frona.