"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"
"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"
"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off ... We'd better get ready...."
He looked around at Harry and Hermione.
"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory.
They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Harry how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now ... nine people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting....
"Three. . ." muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, two. . . one. . ."
"Wir müssen bald los", warf Mr Weasley rasch ein und zog
seine Uhr aus der Tasche. "Weißt du, ob wir noch auf je-manden
warten müssen, Amos?"
"Nein, die Lovegoods sind schon seit 'ner Woche da und die
Fawcetts haben keine Karten bekommen", sagte Mr Diggory.
"Hier in der Gegend wohnt sonst niemand mehr von uns,
oder?"
"Nicht dass ich wüsste", sagte Mr Weasley. "Ja, wir haben
noch eine Minute ... machen wir uns bereit ..."
Er wandte sich Harry und Hermine zu. "Ihr müsst den
Portschlüssel nur berühren, das ist alles, ein Finger reicht –"
Von ihren klobigen Rucksäcken ein wenig behindert tra-ten
sie auf den alten Stiefel zu, den Amos Diggory in die Höhe
hielt.
Alle neun standen in einem engen Kreis zusammen, als eine
kalte Brise über die Hügelkuppe blies. Keiner sprach. Harry
fiel plötzlich ein, wie gespenstisch sie für einen Mug-gel
aussehen würden, der zufällig hier auftauchte ... neun
Menschen, darunter zwei erwachsene Männer, die im Halb-dunkel
diesen vergammelten alten Gummistiefel berührten
und warteten ....
"Drei ...", murmelte Mr Weasley mit einem Auge auf der
Uhr, "zwei ... eins ..."
...
In the very last carriage they met neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth-year Griffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.
"Hi Harry," he panted. "Hi Ginny ... everywhere's full ... I can't find a seat..."
"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here-"
Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.
"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "she's all right."
She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. Harry and Neville followed.
"Hi Luna," said Ginny, "is it Ok if we take these seats?"
The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waistlengh, dirty blone hair, very pale eyebrowns and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at onse why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer corks, or that she was reading a magazine upside-down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.
"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her.
...