Grandmother Frona, as it turned out, was indeed an elderly woman, currently residing in a large gypsy wagon. The porch was decked out in swirling colors, with a rectangular table parked in the middle. Frona was settled behind the table, sorting out various divination items. Flanking her on either side were a pair of young cats. One was a slender gray tabby, given mostly to attacking any insect that buzzed about. The other was a well-fed calico who was missing a bit of one ear and at least half it's tail; currently addressing what appeared to be a nasty itch.
Eric was lead to stand before her. Examining the items, he decided to break the silence. "Excuse me, but isn't magic forbidden at the camp?"
The old woman looked up at him irritatedly. "This coming from the outsider who knew better than to find a portkey? Our arrival was more discreet than anyone's. Our wagons arrived four days ago, and settled in the back of the campground as many of our people do. We are considered eccentrics by the muggles, and a magic stand such as this one is expected in front of our wagons. We would stand out far more if we didn't make ourselves at home." The woman straightened herself. "Now; Riley tells me that you have something you wish to hide; items that you cannot be seen with." She gestured for Eric to sit.
He did so, uneasily. "Um, that's correct, Ma'am. A broom and a suit of leather. It might even need smuggling out of here."
She sat and thought for a moment. "This can be done. Perhaps even easily. However, why should we do this for you?"
Eric pondered the thought very hard. Having nothing to offer, he had to endear himself to this woman. That meant taking risks. "Because you have even less regard for the Ministry of Magic than I do?"
Her twisted features bound into a scowl for several seconds, then she burst out laughing. "Kaneus – I commend your insights. The boy has indeed turned out all right!" She turned back to him with a smile and a pat on his cheek before her expression turned serious again. "Understand this: we do not help outsiders. Why we do this now, you will come to learn in time. For now, gather your things and bring them to my wagon. The Mahkab are good people; but you are Romul, so you sleep with the Romul!"
As Eric drew himself up, he bowed to Frona. As if out of nowhere, he found himself flanked on either side by two wild looking men. "You have met Kaneus; this is Fenris. They will help move you to our camp." Looking at the two men, Eric suddenly felt strangely at home. More than anything was their appearance. Kaneus looked even wilder than he did in London, while Fenris had hair similar to his, stretching down to the middle of his spine. Eric realized that he could blend in with this camp.
Riley seemed only mildly annoyed that Eric was changing residences. Although they were excellent hosts, he and Amelia clearly preferred to be alone. Everything was moved with the utmost of discretion. His broom was covered over to resemble camping gear until it was stowed in Frona's wagon. Once his belongings were settled, the clan began to swarm about him, fitting him with clothing and gear. This was most welcome, even if it was coming from strangers. It occurred to him that he really didn't plan this trip well. He had no gear, no food, and no additional clothing; as he was counting on getting help from the Moons rather heavily. Fortunately circumstances had, for the moment, swung in his favor.
Once he was settled, he began to look about for ways to repay his hosts. Some of their wagons and furniture needed minor repairs, which he set to enthusiastically. Several days passed by as the work made the hours pass quickly. They passed so quickly, in fact, that he didn't notice until a few days before the tournament that he didn't have a ticket to the game. Although he didn't want to seem forward or greedy, he did like to have things tidied up.
Unfortunately, when he found Dorian, his friend looked unusually downcast. "Eric, I don't know what to say – we couldn't get your ticket."
He was stunned. He had gone through quite a bit to get to the game, and now he was going to miss it. Dorian suggested that he speak with Roger Wainwright – the advocate was known for being resourceful. Eric, however, refused to turn to the Wainwrights. They had already been more than generous with him, and he hadn't spoken with Naomi since his first day at camp. He didn't want to make any more mistakes with her, so he chose to keep his distance.
As the camp settled in that evening, the clans gathered together. This particular evening was a costume party, with all the Karan Circle clans participating. Each clan bore a braided sash, with different colors identifying which clan the bearer associated with. There were three clans in all; Onyx, Romul, and Mahkab.
Try as he might, Eric had a terrible time trying to find out the purpose for the Circle. The clans were families. The people he asked proudly insisted that each had a noble tradition, but when he asked further, the story was always the same: it was a secret meant only for family members. Onyx didn't know what Mahkab's secrets were, and Mahkab knew nothing of Romul's history. Each house had it's own music, it's own poetry, and it's own customs.
As for the Circle, it was only slightly easier to understand. The three clans didn't fit well, even in wizard society. The Circle was a joining of outsider families to support one another. Big events like this one made for good opportunities for the families to gather together. Eric did note that Frona and a number of the older clan members were currently gathered in a corner by themselves. He tried to get closer, only to find that the nearer he approached, the more he felt that he needed to be elsewhere. By his third attempt, he was sure that the meeting was warded, and that it would be best to let it be.
Moving back to the campfire, he was greeted with a loud party. Eric wasn't familiar with their customs, but the drumming, singing and dancing were infectious. It wasn't overly long before Kaneus and Fenris had him playing simple rhythms, while masked dancers spun about the campfire. One shrouded figure in particular seemed to take an interest in Eric. Although the person was clearly a female ( and one who apparently considered personal fitness important ) , he found the prospect painfully uncomfortable. It was one thing to watch the others and wish he could join, but quite another to act when the opportunity presented itself.
He would have stayed where he was if his fellow drummers hadn't pushed him off his chair. Gentle hands dragged him into the open, but he quickly fought his way back into the shadows. His companion seemed more than disappointed, so much so that he felt compelled to explain. "I'm sorry – It probably sounds stupid in this crowd, but I can't dance."
She replied by leading him further away from the fire. Taking his hands, she led him through a slow routine, keeping her steps down to every other beat of the drums so that Eric could follow. He still didn't know what he was doing, but it was fun to be able to join in the dance without embarrassing himself. Whoever his new friend was she was patient, and it wasn't long before he could move well enough to keep slow time with her.
He lost track of how long they spent behind the crowd, but for as long as they were back there, he didn't care about whether or not the Ministry had it in for him. He didn't even care about missing the Quidditch tournament. The music was delightful, the company was delightful, and everything was just fine for the moment.
The two of them sat for a while together in shrouded darkness. Eric tried discretely to determine the identity of his companion, but to no avail. Being this close, she drew her cloak tightly together and kept her hood forward. After a while she shifted and began to stand. He offered the courtesy of helping her up politely, and bowed as she vanished into the woods. He remained a while longer, wondering what was going on with his life now, before giving up on trying to figure out the possibilities. Things would sort themselves out in time – he just would have to be ready for it.