"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling." Mr. Weasley implored to Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
"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.
They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward 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, 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, while Y/n and Ron debated if what Krum did was the honorable thing to do.
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 go to bed.
Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Y/n, Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. Given the odd number of boys Y/n was able to have a bunk all to himself.
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 wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."
Y/n just let out a tired yawn now as he lay staring up at the bed above his. His eyes slowly began to grow heavy as he replayed the match over in his mind. It truly had been a wonderful experience in itself but it was made better by the fact he had able to share it with his friends. A small smile lingered on his face as he finally drifted off.
It was the early hours of the morning and Y/n's eyes twitched with disturbance as quite suddenly, Mr. Weasley was shouting. "Get up! Ron! Harry! Y/n! Come on now, get up, this is urgent!"
Y/n's eyes finally opened and he slowly sat up ducking his head to not hit it on the bed above.
"Was' matter?" he heard Harry sleepily ask wondering the same thing.
Y/n looked around as he listened. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams and the sound of people running. Y/n climbed out of bed now and reached for a shirt to put on but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas said. "No time, Y/n...just grab a jacket and get outside quickly!"
Y/n did as he was told and hurried out of the tent with Harry and Ron at his heels.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, they could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward 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 upward, was marching slowly across the field. Y/n squinted at them...They didn't seem to have faces... Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.
"No...It cannot be!" Y/n said angrily as he gritted his teeth.
High above them, floating along in midair, 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.
More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Y/n saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming only grew louder.
The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Y/n recognized 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 and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.
"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 toward 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.
"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'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"
Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers and Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.
"We need to move...Now!" Y/n said urgently to the others as he turned around.
"C'mon." said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Y/n, 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 center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.
The colored 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 they heard Ron yell with pain.
"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her.
"Ron, where are you?" Y/n called out as he pulled out his wand. "Lumos!"
His wand illuminated and he directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.
"Tripped over a tree root," Ron said angrily, and Y/n quickly helped him get back to his feet again.
"Well, with feet that size, hard not to." said a drawling voice from behind them.
Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione turned sharply. Y/n pointed his wand forward and there they saw Draco Malfoy, leaning against a tree.
Y/n noticed his brother Atticus was standing looking utterly relaxed. His hands placed in his pockets, He and Malfoy seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.
Ron told Malfoy to do something that Y/n knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.
"Language, Weasley." said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering.
"Hadn't you all better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you Y/n?" Atticus grinned and 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. "Do you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? 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.
"You think they can't spot a Mudblood?" Atticus asked.
"You think this is a game Atticus!? That these people deserve this because they were not born into a pure blooded family like us!" Y/n shouted at his brother more angry than he had been in his life. "You of all people know what that kind of thinking leads to. Or do you intend to go down the same path as them!?"
"Never mind, Y/n," said Hermione quickly, seizing Y/n's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Atticus.
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. "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?"
Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling. "Well...if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"
"Come on." said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy and Atticus. "Let's go and find the others."
"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger." sneered Malfoy.
"Come on." Hermione repeated, as she, Harry and Ron had to pull Y/n away and up the path again.
"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly.
"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently. "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 looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite.
A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and quickly spoke in what sounded like French.
"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. "
"Beauxbatons." muttered Hermione.
"Sorry?" said Harry.
"They must go to Beauxbatons." said Hermione. "You know... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."
"Oh... yeah.. right." said Harry.
"We do not have time for that right now, We need to find the others." Y/n reminded them. He was still angry with Atticus but he knew that finding the others was more important right now.
"Fred and George can't have gone that far." said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Y/n's, and squinting up the path. Hermione did the same now and Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand but it wasn't there. The only thing he could find was his Omnioculars.
"Ah, no, I don't believe it...I've lost my wand!"
"You're kidding!" Ron said.
Y/n, Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther 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.
"Yeah." said Harry. "Maybe..."
A rustling noise nearby made all four 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 were trying to hold her back.
"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored 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.
"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. He was thinking of Dobby. Every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn't like, the house-elf 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! 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, 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..."
"It's people like you, Ron." Hermione began hotly. "Who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to..."
Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.
"Save it for later, We need to keep moving." said Y/n holding his wand up in case. 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. 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 that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite.
Farther 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, 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."
"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron.. but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far..."
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 of Magic, I am."
Harry snorted with laughter. He recognized 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 Y/n and 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?"
"Honestly!" said Hermione, and she, Y/n 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.
Harry looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."
"Keep your guard up still." Y/n said and the words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.
Even by the feeble light of the three wands, Y/n 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.
"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 one another, surprised.
"Well ...there's a sort of riot going on." said Ron.
Bagman stared at him. "What?"
"At the campsite... They have got hold of a family of Muggles..." Y/n told him.
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.
"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."
He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Y/n was just stood unrelaxed, watching and listening for signs or noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter, perhaps the riot was over.
"I hope the others are okay." said Hermione after a while.
"They'll be fine." said Ron.
"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy." said Harry, 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.
"Those poor Muggles, though." said Hermione nervously. "What if they can't get them down?"
"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? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they..."
"Hermione." Y/n cut her off as the three looked at him. "It is most likely that they are Dea..." But he broke off abruptly and looked over his shoulder. Harry, Hermione and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.
"Hello?" called Harry. 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. "Who's there?" he called.
And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the woods, and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.
"MORSMORDRE!"
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.
"No..." Y/n uttered as he stared at it in horror and disbelief. His worse fears had been confirmed. For what he saw was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. 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, 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.
"Who's there?" he called again.
"Harry, come on, move!" Y/n had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.
"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see his face so white and terrified.
"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned as she looked at him in distress. "You-Know-Who's sign!"
"Voldemort's..."
"Harry, come on!" Harry turned. Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum and the four of them started across the clearing but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.
Y/n whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact. Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Harry Ron, and Hermione.
Harry must have realized the same thing because he yelled "DUCK!"
Y/n seized Hermione and quickly pulled her down onto the ground with him as Harry did the same with Ron.
"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices and there was a blinding series of flashes as Y/n felt the ripple of spells fly over them 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 one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness.
"Stop!" yelled a voice he recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"
Y/n raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.
"Ron...Harry..." his voice sounded shaky. "Y/n...Hermione...are you all right?"
"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. Y/n got to his feet to face them.
Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage. "Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"
His eyes lay upon Y/n now and for the first time he recognised him. Mr Crouch immediately raised his wand. "STUPEFY!"
Y/n didn't even have a chance to react as the stunning spell hit his chest and knocked him down to the floor.
"Y/n!" Hermione cried out.
"Barty what the hell are you doing!?" Mr Weasley cried out.
"He is a Grindelwald, discovered at the scene of the crime!" Mr Crouch said as he stared down at the unconscious Y/n with intensity.
"Y/n didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.
"None of us did anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father.
"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Y/n, 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 woolen dressing gown, "They're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to..."
"Where did the Mark come from, you lot?" 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..."
"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..."
Despite their apprehension about Y/n 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 all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.
"We're too late." said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."
"I don't think so." said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "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 took the moment to crouch down and check on Y/n now who was starting to rouse from the effects of the stunning spell.
"What happened..." Y/n asked as he slowly pushed himself up. He looked up to see Mr Crouch's wand pointing at his face and he remembered.
A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout. "Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's... but...blimey..."
"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch turning his head away from Y/n now and sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"
They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Y/n turned his head to see who it was and instantly recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.
Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. 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 toward the place where he had found Winky.
"No point, Mr. Crouch." Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."
But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.
"Bit embarrassing." Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf... I mean to say..."
"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."
"What?" said Mr. Weasley.
"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. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald green skull. "The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barry! What's going on?"
Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.
"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? 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! 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. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"
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. Y/n 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.
"Elf!" 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 backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.
"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, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognized it
"That's mine!" he said
Everyone in the clearing looked at him.
"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.
"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?"
"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..."
"You are not the only one..." Y/n said as he looked at Mr Crouch.
"I didn't drop it there, anyway." said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."
"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!"
"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Harry, Y/n 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.
"A male voice." Y/n added.
"Well, we'll soon see." growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "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.
Y/n 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 were made of thick gray smoke, the ghost of a spell.
"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.
"So." said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, 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. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"
"Amos." said Mr. Weasley loudly. "Think about it...precious few wizards know how to do that spell...Where would she have learned it?"
"Perhaps Amos is suggesting." said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable. "That I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"
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.
"You speak as if you are not guilty of this yourself." Y/n spoke up and gained their attention again. "Did you not also accuse me of being guilty by simple association of my family?" He challenged Mr Crouch.
"Your family has a history of usage in the Dark Arts! It is a logical conclusion to make. Hold out your wand young Grindelwald if you wish to try clear yourself."
Y/n said nothing as he held out his wand forward now.
Mr Crouch held out his own wand now as he cast. "Prior Incantato!"
The space between their wands began to glow with a faint white light from Y/n's wand revealing it to be the spell Lumos.
Mr Crouch lowered his wand now but said nothing.
"Will you not even apologize?" Y/n asked.
"I have nothing to apologize for!" Barked Crouch angrily. "I have given, over a long career, many proofs that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them." He shouted, his eyes bulging again.
"Mr. Crouch, I... I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.
"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned 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. "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."
"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. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."
"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"
Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said. "I is seeing no one, sir... no one..."
"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."
Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to Y/n 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..."
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!"
Y/n knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was awful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.
"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, 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!"
Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his overshined shoes.
"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me." he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."
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 four" Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move, her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf.
Y/n saw this however "Hermione...I am sorry but there is nothing we can do for her right now."
"Y/n! Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently now. They 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.
"I don't know." said Mr. Weasley.
"I would have offered her a place in my home." Y/n said. "Grandmother could certainly use the company and Winky seems to have a kind nature. But with Atticus... I could not trust him to not abuse a position of power over her..."
"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time...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!"
"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..."
"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 in the dark." said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"
"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 toward them, many of them surged forward.
"What's going on in there?"
"Who conjured it?"
"Arthur... it's not... Him?"
"Of course it's not Him." said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "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, Y/n 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.
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 okay, but the others..."
"I've got them here." said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Y/n 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. 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 Barry 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.
With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Y/n 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. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry...how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control..."
"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.
"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!"
"Percy, stay exactly where you are..." Y/n said turning to the man and raising his wand. "STUPEFY!"
Percy quickly dodged as the spell flew over his head.
"Y/n!" Mr Weasley cried.
"What the hell are you playing at!" Percy shouted at him angrily.
"Sorry, but I am proving a point. It is a natural instinct to run or dodge when you are in the face of danger. Percy you just dodged my spell and no one blames you for doing so, why should it be any different for Winky? She was distraught with chaos surrounding her what was she supposed to have done?"
"She should have followed Mr Crouch's orders." Percy said still annoyed.
"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?"
"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... "
"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..." Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear... the very worst..."
There was silence for a moment and Y/n could only imagine how many times his parents must have cast that mark in the past, a thought that made him feel sick.
Bill began removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut. "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. 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 is what his supporters called themselves." said Y/n now. "It is what my parents were..."
"I think we saw what's left of them tonight..." Bill started. "The ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."
"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 and Y/n's brother in the woods, and Malfoy 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!"
"But what were Voldemort's supporters..." Harry began and everybody but Y/n flinched like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. "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. 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.
"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?"
"Use your brains, Ron." said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very 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?"
"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."
"I am going to stay awake Mr Weasley, I do not think I will be able to sleep." Y/n told him.
"I'd prefer you go to bed Y/n. I can't have you wandering around out there." Mr Weasley said.
"I am not going to sir. I was just going to sit by the heater. I have a lot on my mind." Y/n said.
"It's alright Dad. I'll stay up with him." Bill said putting his hand down on Y/n's shoulder.
"Are you sure Bill?" Mr Weasley asked him and Bill just nodded.
"Do you want us to stay up with you?" Hermione asked as she looked at Y/n slightly worried.
"No. You should all go get some sleep." Y/n said to her as he crouched down and turned on a small camp heater the same way he'd seen Mr Weasley do it earlier. "Hermione and Ginny can take the bunk bed I was using, It is safer for them to stay with us after what has happened." He then suggested.
Mr Weasley while still concerned could see his point and finally conceded.
Harry and Ron got back into their bunks first with Hermione and Ginny taking Y/n's spare one. Soon followed Fred and George. When Mr Weasley, Percy and Charlie all climbed into bed it was just Y/n and Bill who were left sat around a small fire.
"You do not have to stay up with me you know, I really am going to stay by the heater." Y/n said kindly to Bill.
"It's alright Y/n. I most likely wouldn't have been able to sleep like you either." Bill told him as he tended to his wound again now.
"Here, I recently learned a spell that might help." Y/n said taking out his wand and Bill leaned his arm over. "Ferula." Y/n chanted and bandages were summoned from his wand and they wrapped around Bill's arm.
"Had forgotten about that one." Bill chuckled as he admired the bandages. "Thanks."
"You are welcome." Y/n said putting his wand away.
"I'm sorry your guys World Cup experience got tainted tonight." Bill said now.
"It is not your fault Bill. I just still cannot believe that Death Eaters showed up." Y/n sighed and both boys sat down now. "I have always heard the stories. But to see it with my own eyes...and to know that was fairly tame compared to some of the things my parents are supposed to have done."
"Don't dwell on that Y/n." Bill told him. "Your parents are in Azkaban paying for their crimes now. They weren't out there tonight."
"I suppose you are right." Y/n nodded.
Y/n and Bill talked quietly throughout the early hours of the morning until finally Mr. Weasley awoke after only a few hours sleep. He went around waking up the others while Y/n and Bill turned off the heater and went to get dressed.
When everyone was awake and dressed Mr Weasley used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."
"He'll be all right." said Mr. Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while...and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."
They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil, they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had risen.
They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!" Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.
"Arthur... I've been so worried... so worried..."She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground.
Looking down, Y/n saw the headline. 'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!' complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"You're all right." Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes. "You're alive...Oh boys..."
And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together. "Ouch! Mum! You're strangling us..."
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW. L. s? Oh Fred...George..."
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay." said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill." he added in an undertone. "Pick up that paper, I want to see what it says..."
When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.
"I knew it." said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace...Who wrote this? Ah...of course... Rita Skeeter."
"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans..."
"Do us a favor, Perce." said Bill, yawning. "And shut up. "
"I'm mentioned." said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.
"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"
"Not by name." said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this, 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really." said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods... well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."
He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office, this is going to take some smoothing over. "
"I'll come with you, Father." said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person." He bustled out of the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office, surely they can handle this without you?"
"I've got to go, Molly." said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off..."
"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, unable to contain himself, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"
"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No...no, there hasn't been any post at all. Oh that reminds me Y/n dear you'd better let you're Grandmother know you are alright. She's bound to be worried about you."
"Yes I think you are right. I shall write her a letter upstairs to send immediately." Y/n said as he, Ron and Hermione looked curiously at Harry.
With a meaningful look at the three of them he said, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"
"Yeah...think I will too." said Ron at once. "Y/n? Hermione?"
Y/n just nodded.
"Yes." Hermione said quickly, and the four of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
"What's up, Harry?" said Ron, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.
"There's something I haven't told you all." Harry said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."
Ron, Y/n and Hermione's reactions were almost exactly as Harry had imagined them back in his bedroom on Privet Drive. Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Y/n looked at him concerned and Ron simply looked dumbstruck.
"But... he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean... last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"
"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive." said Harry. "But I was dreaming about him... him and Peter ...you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill... someone."
"Did you manage to catch who they were plotting to kill?" Y/n asked him. Harry hesitated for a moment but shook his head.
"It was only a dream." said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare."
"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it?... My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."
"Don't... say... his...name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.
"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. "At the end of last year?"
Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort. "Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?"
"You weren't there." said Harry. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance... a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again...greater and more terrible than ever before, and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him... and that night Wormtail escaped. "
There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread.
"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you expecting a letter?"
"I told Sirius about my scar." said Harry, shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer. "
"Good thinking!" said Ron, his expression clearing. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"
"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.
"But we don't know where Sirius is... he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" said Hermione reasonably.
"Hedwig is not going to manage that journey in a few days." Y/n pointed out.
"Yeah, I know." said Harry, but there was a leaden feeling in his stomach as he looked out of the window at the Hedwig-free sky.
"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry." said Ron. "Come on three on three, Y/n's got to write to his Grandmother but Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play...You can try out the Wronski Feint... "
"Ron." said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice. "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now... He's worried, and he's tired... We all need to go to bed..."
"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."
Y/n couldn't help but secretly smile at Harry's reaction. It was exactly as expected.
Hermione left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like "Boys. "
Harry and Ron soon left Y/n alone as he comprised a letter to his Grandmother explaining that he was alright and then used Ron's owl to send it away. When he looked up he could see the sun was rising and took out his wand and placed it over his chest. "Amato Animo Animato Animagus." He whispered.
Despite all that had happened he knew he could not forget the small ritual he had to perform every morning and night. Last night had proved it more then ever. He had gotten lucky yesterday saying he was going to quickly use the toilet as a diversion to cast the spell on himself away from prying eyes. He could not afford to let his efforts be wasted for anything.
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
"It's been an absolute uproar." Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."
"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.
"Complaining about security at the World Cup." said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."
Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."
Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work. " Mrs. Weasley sighed.
"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who." She said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."
"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first..."
"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.
"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented." said Bill, who was playing chess with Y/n. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"
"Well, it is a bit long, dear." said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me..."
"No, Mum." Bill said as he lost his knight to Y/n.
Rain lashed against the living room window. Y/n and Hermione were both sat on one of the Weasley couches. Y/n was reading through some of the parchment given to him last year by Lupin while Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Y/n, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.
"What are you two up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.
"Homework." said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late." said George.
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum." said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"
Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.
Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling" a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.
"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.
A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted. "Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."
"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks." said Percy swiftly.
"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky." said Mr. Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."
"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.
"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.
"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants..."
"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately. "Because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"
"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you..."
Y/n just folded up his parchments while Harry repacked his broomstick servicing kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder, and upstairs they went with Ron. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistlings and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Pigwidgeon began twittering and zooming around his cage when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.
Y/n's own case lay on his bed almost completely packed. The only things that were missing were his school books and robes.
"Bung him some Owl Treats." said Ron, throwing a packet across to Harry. "It might shut him up."
Harry poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon's cage, then turned to his trunk. Hedwig's cage stood next to it, still empty.
"It's been over a week." Harry said, looking at Hedwig's deserted perch. "You don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?" He asked Y/n and Ron.
"Nah, it would've been in the Daily Prophet." said Ron.
"Ron does make a good point. The Ministry would want to show off If they caught Black." Y/n said.
"Yeah, I suppose..." Harry said now.
"Look, here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley Harry. And she's got some gold out of your vault for you...and she's washed all your socks." He heaved a pile of parcels onto Y/n and Harry's camp beds and dropped two money bags and a load of socks next to them.
Y/n began to slowly pack his robes into his trunk when Ron suddenly made a loud noise of disgust behind him.
"What is that supposed to be?" He was holding up something that looked to Y/n like a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs.
There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes. "Here you are." She said putting them down on Ron's bed. "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."
"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress." said Ron, handing it out to her.
"Of course I haven't." said Mrs. Weasley. "That's for you. Dress robes."
"What?" said Ron, looking horror struck.
"Dress robes!" repeated Mrs. Weasley. "It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year...robes for formal occasions." She explained. "Oh, Y/n you're Grandmother sent an owl this morning to say she won't be able to see you off at King's Cross as planned. I'm afraid she has urgent business."
"Urgent business?" Y/n asked.
"I'm afraid that's all she wrote." Mrs Weasley said with a sad smile.
"I see...Thank you Mrs Weasley." Y/n nodded with a sigh of disappointment.
"You've got to be kidding," said Ron in disbelief looking at his dress robes again. "I'm not wearing that, no way. "
"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mrs Weasley said crossly now. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"
"I'll go starkers before I put that on." said Ron stubbornly.
"Don't be so silly." said Mrs. Weasley. "You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry and Y/n was given some by his Grandmother. Go on show him, Harry, Y/n."
Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. It wasn't as bad as he had expected however, his dress robes didn't have any lace on them at all in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black.
"I thought they'd bring out the color of your eyes, dear." said Mrs. Weasley fondly.
Y/n took out the box his Grandmother had given to him before he left for the Burrow a week ago and opened it now. Inside he could see that instead of robes like Harry or Ron's he had been given what looked to resemble a Muggle three piece suit. The Jacket and suit pants were a simple Black but the waistcoat and bow tie were both silver.
"Well, they're both okay!" said Ron angrily, looking at Harry and Y/n's robes. "Why couldn't I have some like that?"
"Because...well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!" said Mrs. Weasley, flushing.
Y/n and Harry looked away guiltily. Both would willingly have split all the money in their Gringotts vault with the Weasleys, but knew they would never take it.
"I'm never wearing them." Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never."
"Fine!" snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Go naked. And, Y/n, Harry, make sure you both get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh." She left the room, slamming the door behind her.
There was a funny spluttering noise from behind them. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat. "Why is everything I own rubbish?" said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak.
And that's the chapter! Boy was it a long one with a lot of information to process. Some tense moments between Y/n and Atticus again but some nice ones between Y/n and Bill of all people. Poor Winky though being sacked like that, I wonder if she will be alright? If you liked this chapter or just the story in general then don't forget to leave a vote and a comment below as it really helps and I shall see you all next week in...
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