Honestly, traveling by Portkey was a pretty miserable experience. Getting used to it only meant you no longer dropped to your knees and vomited your guts out.
Like several of the young wizards were doing now... But the discomfort never went away.
Zhang Xiao took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. Damp air reeking of decay flooded his nose, and that one deep breath nearly accomplished what the Portkey hadn't.
Thick fog hung all around them. Apart from the firm patch of dry grass where they had landed, everything around them was swampy mud littered with dead branches and fallen leaves.
The voice they had just heard belonged to one of two exhausted, grim-faced wizards standing nearby. One held a large gold watch; the other carried a thick roll of parchment and a quill.
Both were dressed as Muggles, though rather oddly. The man with the gold watch wore a tweed suit jacket on top, but thigh-high rubber boots below.
His colleague wore a Scottish Highlander's kilt and a South American poncho.
"Good morning, Arthur-"
The wizard with the gold watch began chatting with Mr. Weasley, but the young wizards had no interest in the adults' pleasantries. They hurriedly cleaned themselves up with Scourgify, then started looking around despite their lingering discomfort.
"We can't see anything..."
Ron withdrew his gaze in disappointment and sighed. He had expected to see crowds of wizards gathered together, singing and dancing.
Cedric was doing fairly well. He jumped down from a jutting rock and shrugged.
"This fog looks a lot like the Smoke Charm we practiced in the Club. It's probably meant to hide the campsite."
Harry nodded in agreement. He was the only one who had used that spell in actual combat so far, so he knew its effects particularly well.
"This