Cedric, after taking the book from Hermione, turned the page and immediately went pale as he saw the title. While he had been about three years old at the time the war ended, he did hear quite a bit about it from his mother, and read a lot about during a phase where he was curious about it all, mostly because he wanted to know what was so bad about it. The Dark Mark had been mentioned a few times in the text he'd read, and when it was usually seen was pointed out in every mention.
The other three, who were looking at him and waiting for him to begin the chapter, wonder why he'd gone pale.
“What's wrong, Cedric?” Hermione asked.
“I don't think this chapter is going to be a chapter we're going to care about all that much,” Cedric answered.
“Why?” Harry asked.
“The chapter title,” Cedric told him.
“What is it?” Luna asked.
“The Dark Mark,” Cedric read out.
Harry and Hermione both exchanged curious looks, wondering what that was, while Luna frowned, wondering why it sounded so familiar to her.
“What is that?” Harry asked.
“It's the mark of Riddle,” Cedric said. “More commonly known as the mark they'd send up when they'd murdered someone.”
“Which means that it not only has been years since it was seen, but that, for those who understand the significance of it, it's not going to be something that they want to see,” Hermione said.
“Exactly,” Cedric said.
“I think you're right, this chapter isn't going to be a chapter we'll want to see,” Hermione said, sighing.
“Don’t tell your mother you’ve been gambling,” Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George, as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
“I don't think there's any problem with that happening,” Luna said. “I doubt they want the money confiscated, after all.”
“Don’t worry, Dad,” said Fred gleefully, “we’ve got big plans for this money, we don’t want it confiscated.”
Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn’t want to know.
“That's probably a good idea,” Hermione said. “This way, he can claim ignorance about what they're doing if asked without lying.”
They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne towards them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all
“Considering the match, that makes sense,” Cedric said.
and, given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays, and insisted that everyone went to bed.
“Which most likely means that something is going to happen soon,” Luna said.
“And, based on the chapter title, it's most likely going to have something to do with the mark,” Hermione said.
Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pyjamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing, and the odd echoing bang.
“Oh, I am glad I’m not on duty,” muttered Mr. Weasley sleepily,
“I'm sure that there are many who are thinking that way as well,” Cedric said.
“I wouldn’t fancy having to go and tell the Irish they’ve got to stop celebrating.”
Harry, who was on a top bunk above Ron, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum’s more spectacular moves. He was itching to get back on his own Firebolt and try out the Wronski Feint ... somehow Oliver Wood had never managed to convey with all his wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like ...
“That you know of, considering that you most likely ignored him when he showed them,” Luna said.
“True, especially if they were shown in that one meeting that was seen,” Cedric said.
Harry saw himself in robes that had his name on the back, and imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Ludo Bagman’s voice echoed throughout the stadium, “I give you ... Potter!”
Harry never knew whether he had actually dropped off to sleep or not – his fantasies of flying like Krum might well have slipped into actual dreams – all he knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley was shouting.
“And here comes that something that we knew was going to happen,” Luna said.
“Get up! Ron – Harry – come on now, get up, this is urgent!”
Harry sat up quickly and the top of his head hit canvas.
“ ’S’matter?” he said.
Dimly, he could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams, and the sound of people running.
“Something bad,” Harry answered his book self.
He slipped down from the bunk, and reached for his clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pyjamas, said, “No time, Harry – just grab a jacket and get outside – quickly!”
“Something really, really bad,” Harry said, basing that on the way Mr. Weasley seemed to be reacting.
“I have the feeling that it's not the dark mark, not yet anyway,” Hermione said.
Harry did as he was told, and hurried out of the tent, Ron at his heels.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field towards them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light, and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells were drifting towards them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.
A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upwards, was marching slowly across the field. Harry squinted at them ... they didn’t seem to have faces ... then he realised that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.
“So no one can know who they are,” Cedric said, frowning.
High above them, floating along in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.
“Children,” Hermione said, looking sick.
More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies.
“That's sick,” Harry said.
“I have to wonder who these people are,” Hermione said.
Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Harry saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.
“They're purposely doing what they can to scare people, and I doubt that they care if they actually hurt someone or not,” Luna said.
“Well, since I have the feeling that those who don't join them mean nothing to them, I have the feeling that they probably hope to hurt someone,” Cedric said.
The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent, and Harry recognised one of them – Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside-down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers; she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.
“They're sick,” Hermione said. “How can they think that's a good thing?”
“They're wizards who think that Muggles are trash,” Cedric said. “As much as I hate to admit it, that's normal for them.”
“And let me guess, no is actually going to do anything to stop them,” Harry said.
“Those that would are most likely afraid of something happening to the Muggles while the rest don't care about them enough to want to stop them,” Cedric explained.
“That’s sick,” Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. “That is really sick ...”
Hermione and Ginny came hurrying towards them, pulling coats over their nightdresses, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie and Percy emerged from the boys’ tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.
“The ones who can legally do magic,” Luna said. “Though, technically, everyone can do magic, as this is an emergency.”
“Doubt anyone would like having it, though,” Harry said.
“We’re going to help the Ministry,” Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. “You lot – get into the woods, and stick together.”
“I don't think that'll be happening,” Cedric said. “Knowing you three and all.”
“I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!”
Bill, Charlie and Percy were already sprinting away towards the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction towards the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.
“C’mon,” said Fred, grabbing Ginny’s hand and starting to pull her towards the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.
“Or they actually don't want to do anything that would ruin the fun,” Hermione said sarcastically. “I mean, the Weasleys probably want to help, but that doesn't mean that the others actually will.”
The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. Harry felt himself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he could not see. Then he heard Ron yell with pain.
“What happened?” said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. “Ron, where are you? Oh, this is stupid – Lumos!”
“That's probably a good thing to do, since it'll help you with seeing,” Cedric said.
She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.
“Tripped over a tree-root,” he said angrily, getting to his feet again.
“Well, with feet that size, hard not to,” said a drawling voice from behind them.
“Malfoy,” Harry said. “The one we go to school with.”
“Yeah, his father's most likely one of the ones running around in one of those masks,” Cedric said.
Harry, Ron and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby them, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene on the campsite through a gap in the trees.
Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.
“Language, Weasley,” said Malfoy his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”
“As much as I hate to say it, he's kind of got a point. I mean, being Muggleborn as you are, they'll probably target you, especially if Malfoy's father – whose already irritated that you keep beating his son in school – is one of them,” Cedric said. “The fact that you carry a wand would protect you, but chances are, if he saw you, he'd let everyone else know, and, to them, you're the same level as Muggles – and, thus – considered to be filth.”
“Lovely,” Hermione said.
He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Hermione defiantly.
“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy.
“And I'm a witch, even if you want to pretend otherwise,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“D’you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around ... they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”
“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled.
“Have it your own way, Potter,” said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. “If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.”
“The only way they would know is if they somehow knew her or of her and knew what she looked like,” Cedric said.
“Which, since it's pretty sure that Malfoy's father is in one of them, means that there are those who do know,” Harry said.
“You watch your mouth!” shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that ‘Mudblood’ was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.
“Never mind, Ron,” said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron’s arm to restrain him as he took a step towards Malfoy.
“You really should just let him beat him up,” Luna said.
“I probably want to get a bit further away from the camp site and I really don't think he should be fighting,” Hermione said. “Plus, we were told to stick together, and it doesn't say a think about Fred, George, or Ginny, meaning we've probably ended up separate from them.”
“Nice,” Harry said, sighing.
There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed.
Malfoy chuckled softly. “Scare easily, don’t they?” he said lazily.
“Considering the fact that we know he's a coward, doing what he is right now shows that his father is one of them. He wouldn't be half as calm if he didn't know, after all,” Cedric said.
“I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to – trying to rescue the Muggles?”
“Where’re your parents?” said Harry, his temper rising. “Out there wearing masks, are they?”
“He won't actually tell you that,” Luna said. “Even if it's know and true, it's not going to happen.”
Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling. “Well ... if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?”
“Oh, come on,” said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, “let’s go and find the others.”
“Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” sneered Malfoy.
“Come on,” Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron off up the path again.
“I’ll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!” said Ron hotly.
“Don't need to tell us that, since it's already known,” Cedric said.
“Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!” said Hermione fervently.
“I don't think that'll happen, and, even if it did, the Minister would make excuses for him, saying that he wasn't doing it of his own free will,” Luna said. “Fudge is way too chummy with Malfoy not to make excuses for him.”
“Oh, I can’t believe this, where have the others got to?”
Fred, George and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all of them looking nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.
A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron and Hermione, a girl with thick, curly hair turned and said quickly, “Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l’avons perdue –“
“I have the feeling that they think you're a part of their school,” Luna said. “If I remember correctly, the headmistress of Beauxbatons is called Madame Maxime.”
“So, they're talking about their headmistress,” Harry said, since Madame Maxime was the only part of the conversation he recognized.
“Er – what?” said Ron.
“Oh ...” The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, “ ’Ogwarts.”
“So, they know what school it is that you go to,” Hermione said.
“Well, since Hogwarts is really it for English students, it makes sense,” Cedric said. “I mean, there are a few other, smaller schools, but Hogwarts is really the most popular one. The smaller ones, from what I know, are mostly ones set up for those who can't afford to go to Hogwarts, and are not part of families who have gone there before.”
“Beauxbatons,” muttered Hermione.
“Sorry?” said Harry.
“They must go to Beauxbatons,” said Hermione. “You know ... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic ...”
“No, I didn't really know that,” Harry said.
“Sorry, I really shouldn't assume you do,” Hermione said. “Particularly since I probably read about it in some book, and you really don't read as much as I do – in fact, outside of Quidditch and schoolbooks, you don't anything. My book self should know this, too.”
“I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe.”
“Oh ... yeah ... right,” said Harry.
“Fred and George can’t have gone that far,” said Ron,
“If they had Ginny with them, they can move pretty fast,” Luna said. “As she's the baby of the family, they're serious about helping keep her protected.”
pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione, and squinting up the path.
“I probably should do the same thing,” Harry said.
Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand – but it wasn’t there. The only things he could find were his Omnioculars.
“Ah, no, I don’t believe it ... I’ve lost my wand!”
“That's not good,” Cedric said. “If you've lost it, someone else could pick it up.”
“When was the last time you had it?” Hermione said. “Did you, possibly, leave it in the tent?”
“I don't know,” Harry said, looking a bit troubled. He didn't like the fact that he didn't have his wand.
“You’re kidding?”
Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light further on the ground; Harry looked all around him, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.
“Maybe it’s back in the tent,” said Ron.
“Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?” Hermione suggested anxiously.
“I hope that it's in the tent, because then it'll be easier to find,” Harry said. “Assuming that the tent survives.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, “maybe ...”
He usually kept his wand with him at all times in the wizarding world, and finding himself without it in the midst of a scene like this made him feel very vulnerable.
“I don't blame you,” Cedric said.
A rustling noise made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was trying to hold her back.
“That's strange,” Hermione said.
“I have the feeling that she actually might be holding someone back,” Cedric said. “I mean, even if she didn't ask for permission, I don't see he having to fight like that.”
“There is bad wizards about!” she squeaked distractedly, as she leant forwards and laboured to keep running. “People high – high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!”
And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.
“Yeah, that definitely sounds as if there actually is someone holding her back,” Luna said.
“The question is, who's doing it?” Hermione said.
“What’s up with her?” said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. “Why can’t she run properly?”
“Bet she didn’t ask permission to hide,” said Harry.
“And if she didn't, that doesn't mean much,” Cedric said. “It would only count of she was told not to leave the tent, and, strangely enough, I doubt her owner said to do that, considering that she might not have a choice but to leave it, since they were said to be blasting tents out of the way. If she was in one of those tents that were blasted out of the way, it would have been ruined, and she would not have been able to stay in it.”
He was thinking of Dobby: every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn’t like, he had been forced to start beating himself up.
“You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!” said Hermione indignantly. “It’s slavery, that’s what it is!”
“I wonder when I started looking up house-elves,” Hermione said. “And, while I do agree that it is slavery, I'm obviously not
“That Mr Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he’s got her bewitched so she can’t even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn’t anyone do something about it?”
“Well, for those who are in power, they don't think elves are actually worthy beings, while those who do care either can't do anything about it, or know about elves enough to know that they're actually happy,” Cedric said.
“Well, the elves are happy, aren’t they?” Ron said. “You heard old Winky back at the match ... “House-elves is not supposed to have fun' ... that’s what she likes, being bossed around ...”
“He's got a point. Based off of what Winky said, it does appear that way,” Luna said.
“I have the feeling that my book self isn't going to take that very well,” Hermione said.
“It’s people like you, Ron,” Hermione began hotly,
“Considering that the Weasleys don't have any house-elves, I don't think it's fair to yell at him, simply because he was pretty much telling you what Winky had already said and what he basically gleaned from it, and you didn't want to hear it,” Luna said.
“who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they’re too lazy to –“
“I really don't think that this is the time to get into an argument about it,” Cedric said.
Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.
“Let’s just keep moving, shall we?” said Ron, and Harry saw him glance edgily at Hermione. Perhaps there was truth in what Malfoy had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than they were.
“She is, though I doubt they wouldn't love getting their hands on Harry. And, of course, Ron being considered to be a part of a family of Blood Traitors, that also means that they wouldn't mind getting their hands on him either,” Cedric said. “He's just low priority compared to you two.”
They set off again, Harry still searching his pockets, even though he knew his wand wasn’t there.
They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins, who were cackling over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble on the campsite.
“Well, it's not like it deals with them or the bank,” Cedric said.
Further still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful Veela standing in a clearing,
There were some eye rolls from the girls.
“They're probably surrounded by males,” Hermione said.
“Most likely,” Luna said.
surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.
“I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year,” one of them shouted. “I’m a dragon-killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.”
“Considering that there isn't such a thing, it's obvious that it's not true,” Cedric said. “The only title of the person who disposes of creatures is executioner.”
“No, you’re not,” yelled his friend, “you’re a dish-washer at the Leaky Cauldron ... but I’m a Vampire Hunter, I’ve killed about ninety so far –“
“Which means that he's not only in trouble with the vampires – who don't appreciate having their brethren killed, but he's also in trouble with the law, because killing vampires outside of self defense is against it,” Cedric said.
“Not that the Ministry actually tried to keep it from happening,” Luna added. “They're just vampires, after all. That's pretty much how they think about it.”
“Lovely,” Hermione said, shaking her head. Then she thought of something. “But didn't Lockhart have a book dealing with vampires?”
“When he was talking about it, he said that he'd simply made it so that the vampire didn't eat anything but lettuce, not that he killed it,” Cedric said. “That's probably what allowed him to have the book printed, and kept vampires from actually going after him, because the vampire wasn't completely killed.”
A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the Veela, now cut in, “I’m about to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic, I am.”
“Now, that's a straight up lie,” Harry said.
“Yeah, the only way that would happen is if Fudge snuffed it or was forcefully removed, since he most likely loves the power he has as Minister,” Cedric said.
Harry snorted with laughter. He recognised the pimply wizard; his name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus.
He turned to tell Ron this, but Ron’s face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, “Did I tell you I’ve invented a broomstick that’ll reach Jupiter?”
“Wait, you weren't effected, but Ron was? What does that mean?” Hermione asked.
“I don't know,” Cedric said. “But that is something to ponder about.”
“Honestly!” said Hermione again, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around and marched him away. By the time the sounds of the Veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.
“You've gotten much farther in the woods than anyone else, then,” Luna said.
Harry looked around. “I reckon we can just wait here, you know, we’ll hear anyone coming a mile off.”
That's true, as the place does make a good spot to camp out at,” Cedric said.
The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.
“What's he doing there instead of at the camp site with the other ministry officials?” Hermione said, sounding suspicious.
“That is a very good question,” Harry said.
Even by the feeble light of the two wands, Harry could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.
“Somehow, I have a feeing that he's had an encounter he really didn't want to have,” Harry said.
“Who’s that?” he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. “What are you doing in here, all alone?”
They looked at each other, surprised.
“Well – there’s a sort of riot going on,” said Ron.
Bagman stared at him. “What?”
“He doesn't know,” Hermione said, “which means that he most likely was not at the camp site when this all started.”
“On the camp site ... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles ...”
Bagman swore loudly. “Damn them!” he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop.
“Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?” said Hermione, frowning.
“No, it doesn't seem like it,” Harry said.
“‘He was a great Beater, though,” said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. “The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them.”
“And, from the sounds of it, it's his only show of worth,” Hermione said.
He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground and watched it walk around for a while. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening out for noise from the camp site. Everything still seemed quiet; perhaps the riot was over.
“I doubt it. You just might be to far away to hear it,” Luna said.
“I hope the others are OK,” said Hermione after a while.
“They're probably fine,” Cedric said.
“They’ll be fine,” said Ron.
“Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy,” said Harry,
“Probably won't happen, but we can dream,” Harry said.
sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. “He’s always said he’d like to get something on him.”
“That’d wipe the smirk off old Draco’s face, all right,” said Ron.
“True,” Luna said.
“Those poor Muggles, though,” said Hermione nervously. “What if they can’t get them down?”
“They will,” Cedric said. “It might be a while, though, considering how many people were having 'fun' with them, and the Ministry's reluctance to stop it, for one reason or another.” He said fun with obvious sarcasm in his voice. As for the last bit, he was mostly thinking about how the Ministry wizards probably didn't want to stop it, since they were 'only Muggles' after all. He didn't say that out loud, though, knowing that it wouldn't really be all that appreciated to do so.
“They will,” said Ron reassuringly, “they’ll find a way.”
“Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic’s out here tonight!” said Hermione. “I mean, how do they expect to get away with it?”
“Man, I'm not thinking right there,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “The fact that they got away with it before should tell me that they most likely expected to get away with it this time, no mater what.”
“Do you think they’ve been drinking, or are they just –“
“They horrible, idiotic people who don't deserve to be able to do magic,” Hermione said.
But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry and Ron looked quickly around, too. It sounded as though someone was staggering towards their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.
“The person either saw you guys, or just needs a quiet, people free place for some reason,” Cedric said.
“Hello?” called Harry.
“Harry, you don't do that!” Cedric said, his tone slightly scolding. “You never know if the person you heard is a friend or not, and considering that you don't have your wand, you could end up in trouble, since they could end up cursing you!”
There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision.
“Those are some good instincts,” Luna said.
“Who’s there?” he said.
“I know, I shouldn't have done that,” Harry said, before Cedric could scold him again. He had to admit that it was strange to be scolded by Cedric, because he could tell that Cedric was only doing it out of concern; he was generally afraid that something might happen to him. That was what made it strange to Harry.
And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.
“MORSMORDRE!”
“What does that do?” Hermione asked.
“I don't know,” Cedric said, “though, I think I may have an idea...” He was, of course, referring to the chapter title. The others, of course, when they thought about it, remembered the chapter title, and paled a bit, as they realized what the spell probably was.
“I really don't want to think about that,” Hermione said, frowning.
And something vast, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry’s eyes had been struggling to penetrate: it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.
“What the –?” gasped Ron, as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.
For a split second, Harry thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then he realised that it was a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.
“So it's a skull with a serpent tongue, a way to show both death and honour the house of Slytherin as well,” Hermione said.
As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.
Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. Harry didn’t understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull,
“It was, and it seems that quite a few people understand what it means,” Luna said.
which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood, like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“They either left immediately after casting it, or they're invisible,” Cedric said. “And, seeing the panic that spell would cause, it's most likely that they left almost immediately, because they would not want to be at the scene.”
“Who’s there?” he called again.
“Harry, come on, move!” Hermione had seized the back of his jacket, and was tugging him backwards.
“What’s the matter?” Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.
“You know what it is,” Harry said.
“She's probably like me,” Cedric said. “The mark has been mentioned, in detail, in some books, and, as I said before, it's what they did when they'd murder someone. In fact, the only thing not mentioned about it is the spell, and that's because it's not a spell that's known, not to non-Riddle followers, anyway.”
“It’s the Dark Mark, Harry!” Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. “You-Know-Who’s sign!”
“I wonder how long I'll refer to him as that,” Hermione grumbled.
“Voldemort’s –?”
“Yeah, that would shock me quite a bit,” Harry said.
“Harry, come on!”
Harry turned – Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum – the three of them started across the clearing – but before they had taken more than a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.
“Not good, I take it,” Hermione said.
“Most likely not,” Cedric said.
Harry whirled around, and in a split second, he registered one fact: each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Ron and Hermione.
“Duck,” Cedric and Luna both said.
Without pausing to think, he yelled, “DUCK!” He seized the other two and pulled them down onto the ground.
“That's some good reflex, considering what it is that they're most likely going to do,” Luna said.
“STUPEFY!” roared twenty voices – there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards’ wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks, rebounding into the darkness –
“I wonder why I would notice that,” Harry said. “I mean, it doesn't appear to be anything of importance to have noticed.”
“Maybe it's noticed because the person who did the spell actually didn't leave, and that's a way to show it,” Luna said, guessing.
“Stop!” yelled a voice he recognised.
“Mr. Weasley,” the four said, knowing that was probably the only voice he'd really recognise.
“STOP! That’s my son!”
Harry’s hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding towards them, looking terrified.
“Ron – Harry –“ his voice sounded shaky, “– Hermione – are you all right?”
“Yes, at the moment,” Hermione said.
“Out of the way, Arthur,” said a cold, curt voice.
It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch’s face was taut with rage.
“I get the feeling that he thinks one of you did it,” Luna said.
“Most likely,” Harry said.
“Which of you did it?” he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. “Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?”
“We didn’t do that!” said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.
“Yeah, I really don't like the fact that I'm being accused,” Harry said.
“We didn’t do anything!” said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow,
“I must've pulled him down a bit too hard,” Hermione said.
and looking indignantly at his father.
“Well, considering that Mr. Weasley were among those shooting out spells, I think it ire is well deserved,” Hermione said.
“What did you want to attack us for?”
“Do not lie, sir!” shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping – he looked slightly mad. “You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!”
“Barty,” whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing-gown, “they’re kids, Barty, they’d never have been able to –“
“To do it, and we don't know the spell to do it anyway,” Hermione said.
“Plus, when you look at who you are, that right there should be enough to say whether you would or not. I mean, you've got Ron, whose family is considered to be blood traitors. Then there's you, Hermione, whose Muggleborn. And, finally, there's you, Harry, who apparently got rid of Riddle to begin with,” Cedric said. “Why would any three of you do it. The only one I can see doing it, maybe, is Ron, and even then, he wouldn't unless he betrayed his entire family.”
“Where did the Mark come from, you three?” said Mr. Weasley quickly.
“Over there,” said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice, “there was someone behind the trees ... they shouted words – an incantation –“
“Giving them as much information as possible is good, but considering how Mr. Crouch is acting, it might not be the best idea,” Luna said.
“That makes me wonder why Mr. Crouch is acting like that. I mean, it really doesn't make sense, unless there's something I'm missing,” Hermione said, looking at Cedric.
“The only thing I know is that he used to be head of the DMLE before he became the head of where he is now. I don't know why, though,” Cedric said. He didn't mention that he was sure it had to do with the man's son, though, since that was part of why his mother didn't really care about Mr. Crouch.
“Oh, stood over there, did they?” said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. “Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy –“
“Considering that an incantation is needed to do a spell, it makes sense that she would think that,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't sure he cared for this Mr. Crouch all that much.
But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione’s words, they had raised all their wands again, and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.
“So, it's definitely just him acting that way, which means that whatever it is about the mark that upsets him so, it's probably personal,” Hermione muttered, mostly to herself.
“We’re too late,” said the witch in the woollen dressing-gown, shaking her head. “They’ll have Disapparated.”
“That's what we believe as well,” Cedric said.
“I don’t think so,” said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard.
“It sounds like my father,” Cedric said.
It was Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father.
“It is your father,” Hermione said.
“Our Stunners went right through those trees ... there’s a good chance we got them ...”
“Amos, be careful!” said a few of the wizards warningly, as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth.
“Considering that we don't know who it may or may not have been, he should at least have someone else with him,” Luna said, while Ce3dric looked worried about what might happen to his father.
A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.
“Yes! We got them! There’s someone here!”
“Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that it's the person you're looking for,” Hermione said.
“Unconscious! It’s – but – blimey ...”
“You’ve got someone?” shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving.
“Why is it so disbelieving to him that my father may have actually found someone?” Cedric said, sounding offended for his dad.
“Who? Who is it?”
They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory re-emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms.
“A house-elf?” Hermione said, for that was what it sounded like.
Harry recognised the tea-towel at once. It was Winky.
“That's not good,” Luna said. “For him.”
Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited Mr. Crouch’s elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch.
“Yeah, that would be something that would be surprising to discover,” Luna said.
For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.
“This – cannot – be,” he said jerkily. “No –“
He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off towards the place where he had found Winky.
“I think that Mr. Diggory found the only person there, unless the other is invisible,” Harry said.
“No point, Mr. Crouch,” Mr. Diggory called after him. “There’s no one else there.”
“That my father knows of, since, as we said, if there is someone else there, they might be invisible,” Cedric said.
“The question is, did he even think to look for someone else once he saw Winky, though,” Harry said, not trying to be mean, but just wondering in general.
“I don't think so,” Cedric said. “If said person is invisible to others, it's not like they'll be noticed without actually doing a deeper search.”
But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around, the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.
“Why would he be searching like that? I mean, it almost makes it sound as if he knows that there might be someone invisible,” Luna said.
“He could just want to be more thorough, mostly because of who was caught,” Cedric said.
“Bit embarrassing,” Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky’s unconscious form. “Barty Crouch’s house-elf ... I mean to say ...”
“That is rather strange, though there is no way it was Winky,” Luna said. “Not only did it seem like the voice wasn't hers – as Harry most likely would have noted that he recognised it – but she didn't have a wand, and I don't think that elfish magic could make the mark.”
“Come off it, Amos,” said Mr. Weasley quietly, “you don’t seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark’s a wizard’s sign. It requires a wand.”
“Yeah,” said Mr. Diggory, “and she had a wand.”
“Where did she get a wand?” Luna asked.
“What?” said Mr. Weasley.
“Why does he sound so surprised?” Hermione asked.
“No non-human is permitted to carry or use a wand,” Cedric said. “If course, from what I've seen, the law is pretty useless, as elves don't need a wand to do magic, and goblins probably don't as well, though I honestly don't know if it's true or not.”
Hermione frowned. “Why does that law exist, though?” she asked.
“I'm not sure, in all honesty,” Cedric said. “I can't see the reason for it.”
“Here, look.” Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. “Had it in her hand. So that’s clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand.”
Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley.
“Where was he before?” Hermione said.
“Who knows,” Cedric said.
Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the emerald green skull.
“The Dark Mark!” he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned enquiringly to his colleagues. “Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What’s going on?”
Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching.
“Some thing is going on with him,” Hermione said. “Either that, or he's mad that he turned up empty handed.”
“Where have you been, Barty?” said Bagman. “Why weren’t you at the match?”
“He never went to the match? Then why did he have Winky save him a seat...”
“Unless there was another reason for her to be there, and she was told to say she was saving him a seat,” Harry said. “I mean, we already know that elves can't tell people what they've been forbidden to tell, and that, if told to do something, they have to do so. Chances are, if there's something he's hiding, having his elf say she's saving his seat is what'll work as, which was already shown, no one would question all that much.”
“Your elf was saving you a seat, too – Gulping gargoyles!” Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. “What happened to her?”
“I have been busy, Ludo,” said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. “And my elf has been Stunned.”
“Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why –?”
Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman’s round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky and then at Mr. Crouch.
“No!” he said. “Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn’t know how!”
“And that right there is the one part of what's needed to do the spell: knowledge of the incantation,” Cedric said.
“She’d need a wand for a start!”
“And she had one,” said Mr. Diggory. “I found her holding one, Ludo. If it’s all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she’s got to say for herself.”
Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent.
“I don't think that your father should just assume that he has permission to do that,” Harry said. “No offense to him.”
“None taken,” Cedric said, aware that Harry was right to say that.
He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky and said, “Rennervate!”
Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. She caught sight of Mr. Diggory’s feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Harry could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.
“I think she knows that she's in trouble,” Luna said.
“Elf!”
Hermione frowned at that, but didn't say anything.
said Mr. Diggory sternly. “Do you know who I am? I’m a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!”
Winky began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.
“That makes it sound as though she did do something disobedient,” Harry said.
“As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,” said Mr. Diggory. “And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!”
“I – I – I is not doing it, sir!” Winky gasped. “I is not knowing how, sir!”
“You were found with a wand in your hand!” barked Mr. Diggory,
Cedric shrunk in his seat at the way his father was acting. While that did mean she broke the law, the fact that that she had the wand in her hand didn't mean that she was automatically guilty of doing something with it. Besides, chances were that the wand wasn't actually in her hand, just near her, and he was assuming that it was in her because of the close proximity to her.
brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognised it.
“Oh, don't say that it's yours,” Luna said.
“Hey – that’s mine!” he said.
“Too late,” Harry said.
Everyone in the clearing looked at him.
“Excuse me?” said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.
“I don't think anyone was expecting that to happen,” Hermione said.
“That’s my wand!” said Harry. “I dropped it!”
“You dropped it?” repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. “Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?”
“I think he's getting a little carried away,” Luna said.
“I think that my dad forgot who he was talking to,” Cedric said.
“Amos, think who you’re talking to!” said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. “Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?”
“Er – of course not,” mumbled Mr. Diggory. “Sorry ... carried away ...”
“I didn’t drop it there, anyway,” said Harry, jerking his thumb towards the trees beneath the skull. “I missed it right after we got into the wood.”
“That you know of,” Hermione added in.
“So,” said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. “You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you’d have some fun with it, did you?”
“I is not doing magic with it, sir!” squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. “I is ... I is ... I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!”
You've got to feel a bit sorry for her,” Cedric said. “I mean, with the way she's acting and all, she's obviously scared.”
“I also have the feeling that Mr. Crouch is probably going to do something to her as well,” Luna said.
“I have to agree there,” Hermione said. “Especially if Harry is right and she did somehow disobey him.”
“It wasn’t her!” said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same.
“I don't think that I like the fact that he's pretty much saying that she's guilty with just circumstantial evidence,” Hermione said. “Plus, as I was there, I probably can tell that she wasn't the one who said the incantation as well.”
“Winky’s got a squeaky little voice and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!” She looked round at Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. “It didn’t sound anything like Winky, did it?”
“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It definitely didn’t sound like an elf.”
“Yeah, it was a human voice,” said Ron.
“Well, we’ll soon see,” growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed.
“Why, exactly, is he unimpressed?” Hermione asked.
“Your kids,” Cedric said. “That's probably why. As much as I hate to admit it, my father is pretty much just like every other Ministry official in that they won't take the words of children all that seriously.”
“Well, considering the fact that we 'children' are the ones who were there when it happened, they really should learn to at least seriously consider what we say,” Luna said.
“There’s a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?”
Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again, and placed it tip to tip with Harry’s.
“Prior Incantato!” roared Mr. Diggory.
Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them, it looked as though it was made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell.
“So my wand was definitely used to make the mark,” Harry said. “Lovely.”
“Deletrius!” Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.
“So,” said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph,
“He's already decided she was guilty, and nothing we said would have made a difference, would it have,” Hermione said.
“I think so,” Cedric said, looking upset as his father's actions.
“She won't get in trouble for that, though,” Luna said. “I doubt Mr. Crouch will take it lying down, because by accusing Winky, he's also accusing Mr. Crouch. After all, that's really the only place she could know was the spell.”
looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.
“I is not doing it!” she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. “I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn’t using wands, I isn’t knowing how!”
“You’ve been caught red-handed, elf!” Mr. Diggory roared.
“No, she simply caught with a wand for no reason,” Hermione said.
“Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!”
“Which suggests that it was planted there, if it was in her hand,” Harry said. “I mean, with what the spell the Ministry people did, I really doubt that she would actually be able to keep the wand in her hand.”
“She wouldn't, as far as I know. It might be near her, but it wouldn't actually be in her hand due to what the spell does, which is pretty much cause instant unconsciousness that can only be awoken with another spell,” Cedric said.
“So it's definitely possible that either your father just saw the wand near her and assumed that she used it, therefore it was in her hand, or it was actually planted in her hand,” Hermione said.
“Amos,” said Mr. Weasley loudly,
“I'm not surprised that it's Mr. Weasley who would stick up for her,” Cedric said.
“think about it ... precious few wizards know how to do that spell ... where would she have learnt it?”
“And that right there is probably where Mr. Crouch is going to speak,” Luna said.
“Perhaps Amos is suggesting,” said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, “that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?”
“Yeah, if you think about it, it does sound like that,” Cedric said. Even though it was his father being accused, he wasn't all that willing to stick up for him considering that he actually did deserve to be accused of thinking like that.
There was a deeply unpleasant silence.
Amos Diggory looked horrified. “Mr Crouch ... not ... not at all ...”
“You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!” barked Mr. Crouch. “Harry Potter – and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the boy’s story, Amos?”
“Considering that he just accused Mr. Crouch, I'm not surprised,” Cedric said. “I know that my father knows whatever it is that causes my mother not to like him, and I have the feeling that it might have something to do with his son.”
“His son?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, he does have a son, but all I know about him is that something bad happened to him,” Cedric said.
“You think he might have been harmed or killed by someone who would use the dark mark?” Harry asked. “It could be why he's getting on Mr. Diggory's case about it.”
“Yeah, it's possible,” Cedric said, thinking. “It could also be because, from what I've heard about him, he absolutely hates the dark arts and those who practise them. If those who followed Riddle did something bad to them, it makes sense on why he dislikes them.”
“And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practise them?” Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.
“Isn't he the head of the Department of Magical Cooperation?” Hermione asked.
“I think he was the head of the DMLE at one point, though,” Cedric said.
“Mr. Crouch, I – I never suggested you had anything to do with it!” muttered Amos Diggory,
“By accusing his elf, he was accusing him,” Luna said.
now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.
“My dad's getting rather embarrassed for letting this get completely away from him,” Cedric said.
“He should be,” Hermione told him, not unkindly.
“If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!” shouted Mr. Crouch. “Where else would she have learnt to conjure it?”
“She – she might’ve picked it up anywhere –“
“Precisely, Amos,” said Mr. Weasley. “She might have picked it up anywhere ... Winky?” he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he, too, was shouting at her.
“I don't think that she wants to answer any more questions,” Luna said.
“That, or if we were right about Crouch somehow knowing that there was someone invisible, she might know as well, and isn't supposed to let others know,” Harry said.
“Where exactly did you find Harry’s wand?”
Winky was twisting the hem of her tea-towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.
“I – I is finding it ... finding it there, sir ...” she whispered, “there ... in the trees, sir ...”
“So, where we hear whoever it was that said the spell,” Luna said.
“You see, Amos?” said Mr. Weasley. “Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they’d done it, leaving Harry’s wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them.”
“That is true,” Cedric said. “My father had almost accused you simply because it was your wand.”
“And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up.’
“But then, she’d have been feet away from the real culprit!” said Mr. Diggory
“I don't think your father wants for whoever it was that did this to disappear,” Luna said.
impatiently. “Elf? Did you see anyone?”
Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory to Ludo Bagman, and on to Mr. Crouch.
“Why would she do that? I mean, I can understand looking between my father and Mr. Crouch, but why at Bagman?” Cedric said.
“I'd say that she saw him, but, again, Harry would have noted the voice being familiar if it was him,” Hermione said.
“I think that your overestimating my abilities,” Harry said.
“Considering the way it's gone for you, I don't think she is,” Luna said. “You've got good observation skills, and are pretty good at recognising something, whether it's a sound or something else.”
Then she gulped, and said, “I is seeing no one, sir ... no one ...”
“Well, if they were invisible, it makes sense that she wouldn't see anyone,” Luna said.
“Amos,” said Mr. Crouch curtly, “I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her.”
“Oh no,” Cedric said.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“If he's going to deal with her,” Cedric said, “chances are that it won't be pleasant. He's probably going to free her, and, as you saw at the match, she's not going to take it all that well. And I have the feeling that she'll have trouble with finding a new position, because she might not want anyone but Mr. Crouch.”
“Would punishing her that way also do anything else?” Hermione asked.
“It would mean that no one would talk to her, because not being bonded would be considered a punishment enough to keep it from happening,” Cedric said.
“So whatever it is that Mr. Crouch is hiding would end up staying hidden, then, wouldn't it?” Hermione said, frowning.
“Yeah, it would,” Cedric told her, frowning as he realized what it was that she was getting at. If Mr. Crouch did indeed give her clothes, then no one would bother digging any deeper about who might've cast the spell, and it would pretty much get swept under the rug, as it were.
Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn’t think much of this suggestion at all,
“My father didn't really care for Riddle all that much, and wouldn't want the chance to find one of his followers to have them arrested,” Cedric said. “While he's not a part of the DMLE, he is a Ministry official, and can make arrests.”
but it was clear to Harry that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.
“You may rest assured that she will be punished,” Mr. Crouch added coldly.
“M-m-master ...” Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. “M-m-master, p-p-please ...”
“I think she can guess what's about to come,” Luna said quietly, looking sad.
Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. “Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible,” he said slowly. “I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes.”
“No!” shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch’s feet. “No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!”
Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea-towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch’s feet.
“That's so sad,” Hermione murmured. “To be punished because her master is a bastard whose hiding something.”
“She's just a pawn to him,” Cedric said. “Pawns are meant to be disposed of.”
“But she was frightened!” Hermione burst out angrily,
“I take it that you don't like what he's doing,” Harry said.
“No, I apparently don't,” Hermione said.
glaring at Mr. Crouch. “Your elf’s scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can’t blame her for wanting to get out of their way!”
“But he will,” Luna said.
Mr. Crouch took a step backwards, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she was something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.
“I think he's the filthy and rotten contamination,” Hermione said angrily.
“I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me,” he said coldly,
“From what I can see, there is no way she could have disobeyed him, therefore he never told her to stay wherever she was before being in the woods,” Luna said.
looking up at Hermione. “I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master’s reputation.”
“What reputation? Your obviously worthless,” Hermione said.
Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing.
There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, “Well, I think I’ll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody’s got any objections. Amos, that wand’s told us all it can – if Harry could have it back, please –“
Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.
“Come on, you three,” Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn’t seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf.
“I have a feeling that's not something good,” Hermione said, knowing how she worked. After seeing that and hearing about Dobby's condition, it was very likely that she was thinking that something needed to be done about that. She might not start on it straight away, but she would most likely think about it.
“Hermione!” Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.
“What’s going to happen to Winky?” said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.
“He probably doesn't know,” Luna said.
“I don’t know,” said Mr. Weasley.
“The way they were treating her!” said Hermione furiously. “Mr Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time ...”
“I don't think I care for your father all that much right now,” Hermione said.
“I have to agree, it doesn't appear that you do,” Cedric said.
“and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn’t do it and he’s still going to sack her! He didn’t care how frightened she’d been, or how upset she was – it was like she wasn’t even human!”
“She's not, not really. She's elvish,” Luna said. “And, before you say anything, I'm not saying that because it justifies their actions, I'm just saying that she isn't human.”
“Well, she’s not,” said Ron.
Hermione rounded on him. “That doesn’t mean she hasn’t got feelings, Ron, it’s disgusting the way –“
“You shouldn't round on him for speaking the truth, even if you don't like hearing it,” Cedric told her.
“Hermione, I agree with you,” said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, “but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?”
“We lost them,” Harry said. “Probably when Ron tripped, though we didn't realize it until later.”
“We lost them in the dark,” said Ron. “Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?”
“He doesn't know,” Harry said.
“With Mrs Weasley as his mother, do you think she would allow her kids to know?” Luna said. Harry thought about it, then shook his head. What little had been mentioned about her, he could tell she was a bit domineering, towards everything. Harry doubted that information wasn't apart of that effort.
“I’ll explain everything back at the tent,” said Mr. Weasley tensely.
But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded.
A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming towards them, many of them surged forwards. “What’s going on in there?” “Who conjured it?” “Arthur – it’s not – him?”
“Of course it’s not him,” said Mr. Weasley impatiently.
“Considering that if it was Riddle,” Harry said, figuring quite easily who 'him' was, “I doubt that the mark would be the only thing he did, it's obvious that it's not him.”
“We don’t know who it was, it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed.”
He led Harry, Ron and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.
“I wonder if they managed to catch any of those masked wizards,” Hermione said, though she had a look of her face saying that she doubted it.
Charlie’s head was poking out of the boys’ tent.
“Dad, what’s going on?” he called through the dark. “Fred, George and Ginny got back OK, but the others –“
“I’ve got them here,” said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron and Hermione entered after him.
Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose.
“Looks like they got into a bit of a fight,” Luna said.
Fred, George and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.
“Did you get them, Dad?” said Bill sharply. “The person who conjured the Mark?”
“No,” said Mr. Weasley. “We found Barty Crouch’s elf holding Harry’s wand, but we’re none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark.”
“What?” said Bill, Charlie and Percy together.
“Harry’s wand?” said Fred.
“Mr Crouch’s elf?” said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.
“Of course, that's the part he would have caught,” Cedric said, rolling his eyes.
With some assistance from Harry, Ron and Hermione, Mr Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.
“Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!” he said.
“She was an innocent pawn who did not deserve what happened to her,” Hermione said crossly.
“Running away when he’d expressly told her not to ...”
“And considering that she would have never been able to run away like she did if he had, that's a straight up lie from Mr. Crouch,” Hermione said. “How is it that no one realized that.”
“I guess they just forget about it,” Luna said.
“embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry ... how would that have looked, if she’d been had up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control –“
“He would deserve it since he's obviously is hiding something, and his reputation isn't that important,” Hermione said.
“She didn’t do anything – she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!” Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy – better, indeed, than any of the others.
“Probably because we're both school conscious and have somewhat similar attitudes and goals,” Hermione said, though she frowned as she did. While she didn't see that much of a problem with getting along with Percy, he wasn't the type of person she wanted to become. After all, with the way Percy was acting and had acted in the past... Well, she didn't want that to be her.
“Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch’s position can’t afford a house-elf who’s going to run amok with a wand!” said Percy pompously, recovering himself.
“She didn’t run amok!” shouted Hermione. “She just picked it up off the ground!”
“And, most likely, she didn't even do that,” Luna said.
“Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?” said Ron impatiently. “It wasn’t hurting anyone ... why’s it such a big deal?”
“It might not have been hurting anyone physically, but emotionally is a different story,” Cedric said.
“I told you, it’s You-Know-Who’s symbol, Ron,” said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. “I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.”
“And it hasn’t been seen for thirteen years,” said Mr. Weasley quietly. “Of course people panicked ... it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again.”
“I don’t get it,” said Ron, frowning. “I mean ... it’s still only a shape in the sky ...”
“That also has a specific significance to it,” Luna said.
“Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed,” said Mr. Weasley. “The terror it inspired ... you have no idea, you’re too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you’re about to find inside ...”
“Yeah, that would probably cause panic, fear, and hurt to others, particularly if the person killed was close to them in some way or another,” Hermione said.
Mr. Weasley winced. “Everyone’s worst fear ... the very worst ...”
There was silence for a moment.
Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, “Well, it didn’t help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters”
“Death Eaters?” Harry said. “What are Death Eaters?”
“Whoever those guys in masks were,” Cedric said.
“away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we’d got near enough to unmask any of them.”
“I have the feeling that they were probably a bit surprised to see it as well, because it hasn't been seen since he disappeared,” Luna said.
“We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They’re having their memories modified right now.”
“Death Eaters?” said Harry. “What are Death Eaters?”
“It’s what You-Know-Who’s supporters called themselves,” said Bill.
“Oh,” Harry said. “They actually have a name.”
“And, apparently, like the name Riddle gave himself, it has something to do with death,” Hermione said.
“I think we saw what’s left of them tonight – the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway.”
“And, of course, that means that no ones going to bother trying to find them,” Hermione said.
“We can’t prove it was them, Bill,” said Mr. Weasley. “Though it probably was,” he added hopelessly.
“Yeah, I bet it was!” said Ron suddenly. “Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!”
“And considering how close Malfoy is to Fudge, there's no way he'll even be a suspect, even if he did do it, which is very probably,” Luna said.
“But what were Voldemort’s supporters –“ Harry began. Everybody flinched – like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort’s name.
“And they've yet to learn you have no problem saying it,” Cedric said.
“Ron and Hermione know,” Harry said.
“Sorry,” said Harry quickly. “What were You-Know-Who’s supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?”
“The point?” said Mr. Weasley, with a hollow laugh. “Harry, that’s their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun.”
“And the other half was probably done because they had a Muggleborn child,” Cedric said.
“I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn’t resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,” he finished disgustedly.
“Well, they are disgusting,” Hermione said. “The true filth of the Magical world.”
“But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?” said Ron. “They’d have been pleased to see it, wouldn’t they?”
“No, they probably wouldn't, considering that they told lies about being in his service,” Cedric said. “If he came back,who knows what their punishment would be.”
“Use your brains, Ron,” said Bill. “If they really were Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they’d be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they’d ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives ... I don’t reckon he’d be over-pleased with them, do you?”
“So ... whoever conjured the Dark Mark ...” said Hermione slowly, “were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?”
“Probably to scare them away,” Cedric said. “Otherwise, whoever it was would have been with them, since, other than Pettigrew, those who stayed loyal to Riddle are in Azkaban.”
“Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione,” said Mr. Weasley. “But I’ll tell you this ... it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I’d be very surprised if the person who did it hadn’t been a Death Eater once, even if they’re not now ... Listen, it’s very late, and if your mother hears what’s happened she’ll be worried sick. We’ll get a few more hours’ sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here.”
“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea,” Luna said. “I wouldn't be surprised if some people left that very night.”
Harry got back into his bunk with his head buzzing. He knew he ought to feel exhausted; it was nearly three in the morning, but he felt wide awake – wide awake, and worried.
Three days ago – it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days – he had awoken with his scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort’s Mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?
“Trouble's coming,” Hermione said.
He thought of the letter he had written to Sirius before leaving Privet Drive. Would Sirius have got it yet? When would he reply? Harry lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to him now to ease him to sleep, and it was a long time after Charlie’s snores filled the tent that Harry finally dozed off.
“That's the end of the chapter,” Cedric said, handing the book over to Luna.