Jerry carefully supported Hermione until she was steady on her feet, then quickly looked around. They seemed to have arrived in a vast, barren marsh shrouded in mist. Two haggard, gloomy-looking wizards stood in the haze ahead. One clutched a gold watch, while the other carried a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both looked utterly exhausted.
The wizard holding the gold watch was oddly dressed: he wore a rough tweed suit jacket above a pair of thigh-high rubber boots. His companion wore a traditional Scottish Highland kilt beneath a distinctly South American poncho.
"Good morning, Basil," Mr. Weasley greeted him politely. He bent down, picked up the boot Portkey, and handed it to the wizard in the kilt. The man expertly tossed it into an enormous box beside him, which held an assortment of disguised Portkeys—yellowed newspapers, empty drink cans, and a filthy football with a large hole in it.
"Morning, Arthur," Basil replied wearily. He sighed. "Lucky you, not having to work through this sleepless night. We haven't been so fortunate. We've had to keep watch here all night."
"You'd better get moving. I hear a large crowd will be arriving from the Black Forest at a quarter past five. Let me check your campsite... Arthur Weasley..." Basil searched the parchment list carefully as he spoke. "Found it. Follow this path for about four hundred metres. Your campsite is in the first open field. Remember, Mr. Roberts manages that site. As for the Diggory family, you'll need to find Mr. Payne in the second field."
"Thanks, Basil."
They crossed the empty, desolate marshland, the dense mist hanging like a heavy curtain that concealed everything around them. After a little over ten minutes of walking, a weathered gate came into view, followed by a simple little stone cottage