CHAPTER SEVEN though we haven’t got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?” Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman. “We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details —” “Oh details!” said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. “They’ve signed, haven’t they? They’ve agreed, haven’t they? I bet you anything these kids’ll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it’s happening at Hogwarts —” “Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know,” said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman’s remarks short. “Thank you for the tea, Weatherby.” He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily. “See you all later!” he said. “You’ll be up in the Top Box with me — I’m commentating!” He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated. “What’s happening at Hogwarts, Dad?” said Fred at once. “What were they talking about?” “You’ll find out soon enough,” said Mr.Weasley, smiling. “It’s classified information, until such time as the Ministry de- cides to release it,” said Percy stiffly. “Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it.” “Oh shut up, Weatherby,” said Fred. A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the camp- site as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last ‘92 ‘