He had bought two tents through Gringotts' property service while still in Uganda, the transaction managed by owl through a specialist outfitter in Hogsmeade.
They arrived in the second week of August in two flat-packed cases, the kind of compression that made Muggles either very confused or very certain something was wrong. He set them up in sequence in the back garden with his father, who watched the interior expand with the expression he always had for wizarding spatial magic — not surprise exactly, but a renewed appreciation, the way someone might look at a favourite painting they'd had long enough to stop noticing and then suddenly noticed again.
The larger tent had six sleeping rooms, a proper sitting area, a kitchen and bathroom, and the general quality of a comfortable country cottage that had decided to be portable. It would serve for the Cup — the main family tent for the match, and afterward his primary field tent, the one he would use in any situation where he needed to set up a secure perimeter away from a permanent structure. He had thought about what the next year might require, and had been deliberate.
The smaller tent — four rooms, compact and efficient, designed by someone who understood that comfort and portability were not mutually exclusive if you thought carefully enough about the constraints — was already in the expanded pouch. The ladies had used it through the latter weeks of July when the Burrow had been unexpectedly full, and it had functioned without complaint. It was now compressed to the size of a folded handkerchief and sitting alongside his field potions kit, his reference materials, and the things he had been building into the pouch since second year.
'You've thought about this,' his father said, standing in the entrance of the large tent, looking at the sitting room.
'Yes,' Ron said.
His father looked at him with the expression he sometimes had — the one that was not quite asking a question and not quite offering something, but sitting in the space between both.
'For the Tournament,' Ron said. 'And after. I want to be prepared for things being complicated.'
Arthur Weasley considered this. 'They might not be,' he said.
'No,' Ron said. 'They might not be.'
His father put a hand on his shoulder briefly and went back to examining the kitchen fixtures with genuine interest.