The next morning, the group of three adults and six young people set out from the Burrow on foot, headed for Stoatshead Hill, where a Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup awaited them. Dawn was just breaking, and the previous night's chill remained in the air.

Once they got moving, Hermione called out, "Professor Lupin?"

"Again, please call me Remus," he answered.

"Oh, right. Remus. Last night after going to bed, I thought of more questions related to what we discussed yesterday, about myths and magic. Do you mind?"

Ron took this as his cue to drop back to talk with Fred and George about the upcoming match, but Remus gave her an encouraging smile. "Not at all. Go ahead."

"Are there any stories about where magic came from in the first place?"

Harry had started to follow Ron, but when he heard Hermione's question, his attention went back to her and Remus.

Remus said, "Yes, many stories, but little agreement among them. It's an old question. Does magic come from the gods, or from their infernal counterparts? Those gifted with magic have tended to take the former position, if they consider the matter at all. In the days before the Statute of Secrecy, Muggles who learned of magic tended to think the latter. Ah, well, one's position in life does tend to have an effect on one's philosophy. The truth is, there's no historical record of the origin of magic. People had magic before they had writing to record information about it. Perhaps even before speech, since wordless magic is possible."

Harry asked, with intensity unusual for him in relation to an academic discussion, "What do you believe about where magic comes from?"

Remus said, "Perhaps the source of magic is neither God nor the Devil, but another interested party. Perhaps the Trickster."

Sirius laughed. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

"In more ways than one, for both of us. Trickster figures are often associated with shape-shifting. That's part of why I've taken such an interest in the subject."

Hermione asked, "Are you saying magic is neither good nor evil in itself, but depends on how we use it?"

Remus said, "Or perhaps it's something else entirely. Rather than a point which moves along a line between good and evil, perhaps magic is the third point of a triangle. Why should there be just two metaphysical positions? When it comes to magic, I find the number three more fitting. As you all progress in your own study of magic, you may find it useful at times to look for a third alternative, rather than expecting the world to divide up neatly into good versus evil, real versus imaginary, or true versus false."

Harry turned to study Remus. "You and Sirius aren't nearly as different as you seem when first meeting you both."

Sirius laughed again, and clapped his hand on Remus' shoulder. "It came in handy, back in school. Teachers saw the quiet, studious young man, and couldn't imagine him being all bad. They assumed that meant he was on the side of the angels. People fail to appreciate that sometimes chaos can just be fun."

Fred and George voiced their approval from the back of the group.

Hermione pursed her lips at the notion, but shook her head and moved on. "I also thought some more about our discussion of Prometheus."

Remus said, "Good. It's a subject that bears consideration. In fact, I may have put things too narrowly. The transgressive nature of magic is not limited to fire magic. The small acts of magic you perform in class every day violate the laws of physics as Muggles understand them. But magic also has the potential to disrupt social structures and power relations. Every magical government takes an interest in regulating the use of magic, partly for safety reasons, but partly for reasons of politics and power. No offense, Arthur."

"None taken," the other man replied. "Most days, my work lets me focus on keeping people safe from abuses of magic, but that sort of thing is always there in the background."

Remus nodded. "Trickster figures are also associated with having a marginal role in society. It's a good vantage point from which to notice things others may take for granted."

Although Remus had spoken in a neutral tone, Sirius muttered some harsh words about stupid, outdated prejudices. No one else commented, but it wasn't lost on anyone that this too was an aspect of what Remus experienced as a werewolf.

Hermione asked, "Can you recommend a list of books for me on that topic? Some people think I'm too… direct, I suppose, in the way I confront problems. It wouldn't hurt to consider other approaches to bringing about positive change."

Remus said, "Of course. I thought you might ask. But I fear I may have taken us on a digression. Did we cover all the questions you started with?"

"Oh! No, I had one other question. Our discussion of the link between knowledge and fire reminded me of the difficulties involved in trying to record the spell for Fiendfyre."

This provoked a strangled coughing sound from Mr Weasley.

"Careful," Sirius warned her. "This isn't the sort of thing one usually discusses in polite company. And that's coming from the likes of me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize," she said.

Remus said, "As a general rule, it's wise to be… circumspect in expressing interest in such advanced and destructive Dark magic. But since you're among friends now, what's your question?"

"Are you sure it's alright?" she asked, looking anxiously between the adults.

"You can speak freely," Mr Weasley assured her. "The sudden change of topic startled me, but you can consider me off-duty from the Ministry while you are a guest in my home. Or in one of my tents, as the case may be."

Sirius added, "It's not that you said anything wrong, but you did drop it into the conversation way too casually there."

Hermione said, "I certainly didn't mean to imply I have any wish to cast the spell. I've just been thinking about the problem of how you can't write or print it without the paper catching on fire. I have ideas on how to record it using other types of media."

Remus said, "I would not classify that particular limitation as a problem. We should count ourselves lucky the spell is not more widely known or easily transmitted. Don't Muggles similarly restrict the knowledge of certain forms of technology?"

"Well, yes, with things like weapons of mass destruction."

He gave her a significant look.

"Oh. I see. I hadn't thought of it like that." She fell into a thoughtful silence.

They soon arrived at the hilltop from which their Portkey would depart. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, was waiting there with an older wizard he introduced as his father, Amos.

Upon hearing Harry's name, Mr Diggory started going on about what a story Cedric would have to tell his children and grandchildren one day, about the time he beat Harry Potter at Quidditch. Sirius argued it hadn't been a fair contest, since Harry's focus was on total points towards the Quidditch Cup, rather than winning just the one match. The two men began to dispute in earnest.

Harry and Cedric exchanged the look universally used by teenagers to express how mortifying parents can be, though Harry also felt a secret warmth at having an adult in his life who would jump in and take his side without question.

Mr Weasley interrupted the argument to announce their Portkey was about to depart. Everyone gathered around to each place a hand on the old boot they'd come there to find. The spell triggered, and they felt themselves jerked into motion.

At their destination, Cedric and Harry were the only younger people who landed on their feet. Harry even managed to catch Ginny and keep her from falling like the other less-experienced travelers.

"Thanks," she said, giving him an embarrassed smile as he steadied her.

"I've had lots of practice with Portkeys this summer," he admitted. "To be honest, I may have stumbled a bit my first few times too."

"Only a bit?"

"That's how I remember it, and I'm the one telling the story. At least I didn't wind up doing anything completely humiliating, like putting my elbow in a butter dish."

"I was eleven! Prat."

He smirked as he offered her his arm. "Better let me help you. Just to make sure you don't have any more trouble."

"Ha. It'll take a lot more than that to keep me out of trouble," she shot back, looping her arm through his as the group set off across the campgrounds.

Upon reaching their assigned campsite, they went about setting up the tents without the use of magic. Mr Weasley supplied most of the enthusiasm, though it fell mainly to Harry and Hermione to sort out the practicalities of the proper arrangement of stakes and poles.

Mr Weasley next set himself the task of starting a fire, again without magic, but with a healthy dose of eagerness to make up for the lack.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione went to get water from the taps the campsite provided.

Along the way, the occasional person would pause to gawk when they recognized Harry, but no one approached. He'd been back in the wizarding world long enough that people no longer surrounded him to get a chance to shake his hand the way they had that first time in the Leaky Cauldron, so he was able to ignore it.

On the way back, they encountered some people they actually knew–former or current fellow students–and Harry was happy to stop and chat with them.

Oliver Wood introduced them to his parents and told them about his new position as the Keeper for Puddlemere United's reserve team.

While they were talking to the Woods, Seamus and Dean spotted them and came over. The two Gryffindors were attending the event with Seamus' mother. Seamus wanted to confirm everyone would be cheering for Ireland, while Dean seemed more worried about whether Ginny would be able to handle the weight of the water she was carrying. She assured him she could manage just fine.

They were almost back to camp when they ran into the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang.

"Wow!" she greeted Harry. "This place is crawling with Hogwarts Seekers. I just saw Cedric a minute ago."

"Yeah, we shared a Portkey with him and his father," Harry told her.

"Hey, I bet the Malfoys are here somewhere. You, me, Cedric, and Draco should all get together to discuss the match afterwards."

Harry scowled. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."

Cho laughed. "You Gryffindors are so easy to rattle–just mention a Slytherin exists. To be fair, I suppose Malfoy is mouthier than average, even for that house."

He relaxed. "Okay, you got me. And yeah, mouthy is a good word for him."

"I wouldn't mind spending time with you and Cedric though," she said with a soft smile.

"Trying to get some inside information on your competition?" Ginny asked.

Cho glanced at Ginny's hand on Harry's arm, then met her eyes. "Even if I am, they'll both have the same chance to try to figure me out. All's fair in love and Quidditch."

"Maybe we'll all run into you later," Ginny said, moving closer to Harry.

"Right, see you later maybe," Cho agreed lightly. She started to move past them, but paused to rest her hand on Harry's other arm, opposite the one Ginny held. "Think about what questions you want to grill me with on my broom riding technique, Harry."

She shot another quick glance at Ginny before letting go of Harry and strolling off.

"Tart," Ginny remarked.

Harry frowned. "What? She seemed friendly enough."

"Oh, she seemed plenty friendly."

"What's your problem?" Ron asked.

"Broom riding technique? Could she be any more obvious?" She turned to Hermione. "Back me up on this."

"She was acting rather over the top. It's not nice to call someone a tart though."

Ron asked, "Oh, now you're an expert on the proper way to talk about Quidditch?"

"Her implication wasn't subtle, and had little to do with Quidditch. Besides, it was more the way she said it."

Harry cast a speculative look after Cho, but then shook his head and said, "Come on. Let's head back."

When they got back to the tents, Ginny saw her father still struggling to start a fire. She walked over to watch. When some acquaintances called out friendly hellos as they passed, he turned to wave, and she lit the fire with a whisper of wandless magic.

"Dad, you got it!"

Her father turned back to the fire in surprise, then flicked his eyes to her wand hand. Seeing it empty, he searched her face for the sort of anger which might produce a burst of accidental magic.

She smiled, and he returned it, then brought his gaze back to the fire.

"Well, that's that sorted." He brought his palms together in a single brisk clap. Still grinning, he told her, "You know, I believe your old dad would do quite well as a Muggle."

"I bet you would, dad."

As preparations for lunch began, Bill, Charlie, and Percy showed up and pitched in to help.

After lunch, Ludo Bagman, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, stopped by. He was rather conspicuous in his robes, like he couldn't be bothered with even the haphazard attempts at avoiding Muggle notice which nearly everyone else in attendance had made.

Bagman struck up a conversation about the upcoming match, and soon steered it around to the idea of placing a 'friendly wager'. Fred and George expressed an interest in betting that Ireland would win, but Krum would catch the Snitch.

When Hermione heard the odds Bagman was offering, she said, "The match could end up like that. Krum is the better Seeker, but the Irish have a good chance at beating the Snitch Gap with goals if the match goes on long enough. It's not a good bet at those odds though–not with the high degree of variance in how long it might take the Seekers to spot the Snitch."

The conversation came to a halt as those who knew Hermione turned to stare at her. Even Bagman fell silent, once he realized no one was listening to him.

"What?" Hermione asked.

Harry asked, "Since when do you follow Quidditch so closely? Or, you know, at all?"

"Professor Vector suggested calculating the odds of various possible World Cup outcomes as a fun summer exercise."

Ron groaned. "Oh Merlin, not Snitchomancy."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"A bunch of Arithmancy swots who think messing about with numbers can replace a feel for the soul of the game."

Hermione scowled at this description. "It's a perfectly valid method of analysis. You know, even a small club with less money like the Chudley Cannons could use it to have an actual chance at becoming competitive."

After the dig at Ron's beloved team, the two fell into further squabbling.

Bagman cleared his throat. "Well, despite what the young lady may believe, I assure you those odds are entirely fair. You won't find better elsewhere."

Fred and George exchanged a look, less confident now.

Remus chose this moment to chime in. "Isn't there anything you would rather put your money towards? Like investing in your future?"

The two brothers cast uneasy glances at their father. Although he wasn't as dead set against their plans to sell joke items as their mother was, they were nervous about anything said on the topic making its way back to her.

Fred said, "That's the problem. We don't have enough saved up to afford a… future."

Sirius said, "Well, you never know. You might find a wealthy patron looking to invest in two promising young entrepreneurs. Assuming they showed a reasonable degree of responsibility with money, that is."

Arthur feigned obliviousness to what they were hinting at. If nothing else, having Remus and Sirius talk his sons out of betting meant he wouldn't have to put himself in an awkward position. Whatever rumors there were about Bagman having money problems, the man had after all given him their tickets for the day's event as a personal favor.

The conversation was soon interrupted anyway by the arrival of a wizard with short gray hair and a narrow mustache who was looking for Bagman, though the two didn't seem like friends. Arthur introduced the new arrival as Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Sirius and Crouch locked eyes in a hostile glare, then proceeded to pointedly ignore each other.

Harry and his friends had planned to walk around and check out souvenirs after lunch, but he hesitated when he saw his godfather's change in attitude. Sirius noticed, and told him to go and have a good time.

Mr Weasley agreed, saying the kids would have no interest in a discussion of Ministry business. He invited Crouch and Bagman to step into the tent to talk further, conveniently separating Crouch and Sirius.

Sirius once again told Harry to go enjoy himself, so Harry and his three friends headed towards the vendors, while Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley twins moved off in a different direction, focused more on the quiet discussion they launched into than on any particular destination.

Once out of earshot of the campsite, Ron and Ginny shared a snicker over the way Crouch had addressed Percy as 'Weatherby'.

"Was that some sort of juvenile workplace hazing, do you think?" wondered Hermione.

"How do you figure?" Ron asked.

"Crouch obviously knows your father. I suppose it's possible he might not know Percy was his son, but when he saw them sitting together, and with the obvious family resemblance…" She gestured at Ron's hair. "I wonder if he wanted to give the new employee a hard time."

"Huh," Ginny said. "Dad has never mentioned anything like that going on at work. Maybe it's just something Crouch does. Or maybe just to Percy, to take him down a peg."

"He could certainly use it," Ron agreed.

"There's nothing wrong with striving to excel in your endeavors," Hermione said.

"There is with never letting anyone around you forget it."

Hermione considered this argument, then let the matter drop.

They spent the afternoon wandering, chatting, and taking in the campground and the crowd of visitors from various countries, who were all doing much the same as them. At one of the vendor booths, Harry bought four pairs of Omnioculars for himself and his friends. While they all made polite protests, Ron seemed the most uncomfortable. Harry had to beat him in a round of rooster, Basilisk, Acromantula to get him to accept the gift.

Later, as night began to fall and lanterns were lit against the darkness, the crowd of fans made their way into the enormous stadium, eager for the start of the match.