InsaneJournal

Pureblood Wizards Invitational - European Cup
Who: Any pureblood wizards coming to the meeting
When: August 19, 2020 - midmorning.
Where: Private hexed tent (Set up and protected with a Fidelius Charm)
Status: In-progress



The nice thing about providing for the cabal, Nigel reflected, was that he had no fear of arriving late. The tent they were to be meeting within had been set up the night before, and as it hadn't been used enough to acquire the usual buildup of junk that occurred with such things, it had taken only a small bit of spellwork to get the place all shipshape and ready: a simple meeting hall, with a door at either end. One to outside, one to the hall--clean and simple, just the way things needed to be. At the end opposite the door to outside, a fire burned in the hearth. The hall was monopolized by a large mahogany table, high-backed chairs set on either side of it. Just as he remembered, just as he'd always seen.

Of course, his own appearance was probably never a part of that image. His shirt wasn't tucked in, his boots ran up to his knees, and his hair hadn't been so much as trimmed in months (at least he'd seen fit to make sure his facial hair was at least presentable). A gigantic hat sat on his head, declaring his allegiance to Puddlemere United, dark blue and singing its heart out silently (he'd decided that perhaps the Puddlemere fight song wasn't perhaps the best mood to begin the meeting in).

Still, he would keep it with him until they were about to begin.

With the time for the meeting to begin fast approaching, Nigel took a seat at the head of the table, resting one leg up on the table.

They would be coming soon.