ღ chapter twenty eight
( death eater havoc )
"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.
"Don't worry, Dad," Fred exclaimed 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, 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 go to bed.
Hermione, Ginny, and Jules made their way over to their own tent, changing into their pajamas, scrubbing their faces clean, brushing their teeth, and clambering into the one bedroom.
From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.
Jules, who was on a top bunk above Hermione, Ginny taking the bottom bunk of the opposing bed, 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 Moran's more spectacular moves.
She doesn't exactly know when she fell asleep, but she stirred at loud screaming; Mr. Weasley was shouting.
"Get up! Girls- Ginny, Hermione, Juliet, come on now, get up, this is urgent!"
Jules sat up quickly and the top of her head hit canvas.
"What happened?" she asked, rubbing her head. Dimly, she could tell that something was wrong. The noises in
the campsite had changed; the singing had stopped, she could hear screams, and the sound of people running.
She slipped down from the bunk and reached for her clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, girls- just grab a jacket and get outside- quickly!"
Jules did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Ginny and Hermione at her heels. She'd tugged a pair of trousers on and her leather jacket, to make the silk nightgown she was wearing look less vulgar.
By the light of the few fires that were still burning, she 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. Jules squinted at them- they didn't seem to have faces. Then she realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.
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 Jules saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of their way with a wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.
The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Jules 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..."
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; 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.
"C'mon," Fred said, grabbing Ginny's hand protectively and starting to pull her toward the wood. Jules, 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 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.
Jules felt herself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces she could not see. Then she heard Ron yell with pain.
"What happened?" Hermione said anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid- lumos!"
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," a drawling, familiar voice said from behind them. Jules, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply.
Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at 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," Malfoy sneered, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"
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?" Hermione huffed defiantly.
"Granger, they're after Muggles," Malfoy sneered. "D'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," Juliet snarled.
"Have it your own way, Black," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."
"You watch your mouth!" Ron shouted.
"Never mind, Ron," Hermione interrupted quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.
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?" Harry said, his temper visibly 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? Where's your father, Black? Cozied up with them?"
"Oh come on," Hermione grumbled, with a disgusted look at Malfoy. "Let's go and find the others."
"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," Malfoy sneered.
"Come on," Hermione repeated, and she pulled Jules, Harry, and Ron up the path again.
"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" Ron exclaimed hotly.
"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" Hermione insisted 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 Jules, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "Oü est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue-"
"Er - what?" Ron asked.
"Je m'excuse, nous ne savons pas," Jules interjected, apologizing for them not knowing.
"Oh... It is no problem," The girl who had spoken turned her back on them, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, "Ogwarts."
"Beauxbatons," Hermione muttered.
"Sorry?" Harry asked.
"They must go to Beauxbatons," Hermione continued. "You know... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic...I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."
"Oh," Harry managed.
"Fred and George can't have gone that far," Ron sighed, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path, as Jules did the same.
"Ah, no, I don't believe it- I've lost my wand!" Harry exclaimed.
"You're kidding!"
Jules, Ron, and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground; They looked all around, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe it's back in the tent," Ron mumbled.
"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.
"Yeah," Harry sighed, brows crinkled. "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?" Ron said, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"
"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," Harry frowned.
"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" Hermione said 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 do anything, at least Mrs. Valentine-Black treats her elves like family."
Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.
"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" Ron asked, and Jules 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, as 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."
Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and the next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"
"Honestly!" Hermione said, 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.
Jules looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."
The words were hardly out of her mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.
Even by the feeble light of the two wands, Jules 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," Ron mumbled.
Bagman stared at him. "What?"
"At the campsite... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles..." Jules added.
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?" Hermione frowned.
"He was a great Beater, though," Ron reminisced, 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. Jules was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over.
"I hope the others are okay," Hermione said after a while.
"They'll be fine," Ron sighed.
"Imagine if your dad catches my slimy uncle," Jules chuckled, 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," Ron said.
"Those poor Muggles, though," Hermione mumbled nervously. "What if they can't get them down?"
"They will," Jules reassured. "They'll find a way."
"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" Hermione exclaimed. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just-"
But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Jules, Harry, 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?" Harry called.
There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. "Who's there?" he said.
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!"
And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Juliet's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.
"What the-?" Ron gasped as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.
For a split second, Jules thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then she realized that it 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.
Jules immediately understood the only possible cause of the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. She scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but she couldn't see anyone.
"Who's there?" he called again.
"Harry, come on, move!"
Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward. "What's the matter?" Harry said.
Jules knew she and Hermione looked petrified, the only ones knowing exactly what the green skull was.
"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione sniffed, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"
"Voldemort's-"
"Harry, come on!"
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.
Jules whirled around, and in an instant, she registered one fact: Each of these wizards had their wand out, and every wand was pointing right at herself, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Without pausing to think, she yelled, "DUCK!"
She seized the other three and pulled them down onto the ground. "STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and Jules felt the hair on her head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing.
Raising her head a fraction of an inch she 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 she recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"
Juliet's hair stopped blowing about, and she raised her head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. She rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.
"Ron- Harry" -his voice sounded shaky- "Juliet- Hermione- are you all right?"
"Out of the way, Arthur," a cold, curt voice said.
It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Jules got to her 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?"
"We didn't do that!" Harry exclaimed, gesturing up at the skull.
"We didn't do anything!" Ron insisted, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"
"Do not lie, sir!" Mr. Crouch shouted. 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," a witch in a long woolen dressing gown whispered, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to-"
"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" Mr. Weasley quickly said.
"Over there," Hermione said 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?" Mr. Crouch said, 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-"
But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Jules, 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," the witch in the woolen dressing gown muttered, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."
"I don't think so," a wizard with a scrubby brown beard countered. 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!" A few of the wizards warned as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Jules watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth, darkness of the shadow from the nearest tree covering her face. As far as the ministry knew, Sirius Black was an ardent supporter of the Dark Lord.
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?" Mr. Crouch shouted, 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. Jules 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," Mr. Weasley said quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."
"Yeah," Mr. Diggory sighed, "and she had a wand."
"What?" Mr. Weasley muttered, flabbergasted.
"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?" Bagman continued. "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," Mr. Crouch sneered, 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," Mr. Diggory explained. "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. Jules felt terrible for her, nausea and pity quickly replacing the fear in her gut.
The elf 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. Jules 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!" Mr. Diggory began 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," Mr. Diggory continued gruffly. "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!" Mr. Diggory barked, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Jules recognized it.
"Hey - that's mine!" Harry said.
Everyone in the clearing looked at him. "Excuse me?" Mr. Diggory said incredulously.
"That's my wand!" Harry repeated. "I dropped it!"
"You dropped it?" Mr. Diggory repeated in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"
"Amos, think who you're talking to!" Mr. Weasley interrupted very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"
"Er - of course not," Mr. Diggory mumbled.
"I didn't drop it there, anyway," Harry said, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."
"So," Mr. Diggory interrogated, 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!" Winky squealed, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"
"It wasn't her!" Hermione defended. 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 Jules, Harry, and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"
"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."
"Yeah, it was a human voice," Ron confirmed.
"Human, not elf," Juliet finished softly.
"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!" Mr. Diggory roared.
Jules 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," Mr. Diggory thundered triumphantly, 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," Mr. Weasley proclaimed loudly, "think about it... precious few wizards know how to do that spell... Where would she have learned it?"
"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," Mr. Crouch huffed, 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!" Mr. Crouch barked. "Harry Potter - and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"
"Of course- everyone knows-" Mr. Diggory muttered, looking highly discomforted.
"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 practice them?" Mr. Crouch 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!" Mr. Crouch shouted. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"
"She- she might've picked it up anywhere-"
"Precisely, Amos," Mr. Weasley said kindly. "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?" Mr. Weasley finished. "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!" Mr. Diggory 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 onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir... no one..."
"Amos," Mr. Crouch said 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 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..."
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!" Winky shrieked, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"
It was pitiful 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 over-shined 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. "Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently.
She turned and followed Juliet, Harry, and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees. "What's going to happen to Winky?" Hermione qustioned, the moment they had left the clearing.
"I don't know," Mr. Weasley admitted.
"The way they were treating her!" Hermione raged 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," Ron muttered, causing Jules to kick him in the shins, hard.
Hermione pinched his arm, making him yelp. "That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way-"
"Hermione, I agree with you," Mr. Weasley sighed 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," Ron explained. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"
"I'll explain everything back at the tent," Mr. Weasley mumbled 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," Mr. Weasley grumbled 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 Jules, 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.
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," Mr. Weasley assured, bending down and entering the tent. Juliet, 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, while 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?" Bill asked sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"
"No," Mr. Weasley sighed. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."
"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Percy exclaimed together.
"Harry's wand?" Fred gaped.
"Mr. Crouch's elf ?" Percy questioned, sounding thunderstruck. With some assistance from Juliet, 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. "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!" Percy pompously said, recovering himself.
"She didn't run amok!" Hermione shouted. "She just picked it up off the ground!"
"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" Ron said impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone... Why's it such a big deal?"
"It's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," Jules said quietly, still extremely shaken.
"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," Mr. Weasley added quietly. "Of course people panicked... it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."
"I don't get it," Ron frowned. "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," Jules mumbled, picturing the green tongued serpent hovering over the home of her godmother, who she barely remembered, but was very attached to. "The terror it inspired, the stories I've heard- we have no idea, we'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. 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 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?" Harry asked. "What are Death Eaters?"
"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," Bill explained. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight- the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."
"We can't prove it was them, Bill," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.
"Yeah, I bet it was!" Ron said 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!"
"But what were Voldemort's supporters-" Harry began. Everybody flinched- like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys and Juliet always avoided saying his name. "Sorry," Harry apologized quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"
"The point?" Mr. Weasley laughed hollowly. "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?" Ron asked. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"
"Use your brains, Ron," Bill scoffed. "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..." Hermione said 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," Mr. Weasley sighed. "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."
Tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean? Her head hit the pillow, yet she remained staring at the canvas above her.
"You're destined for greatness, Juliet."
Jules jumped, her head nearly hitting the canvas, head turning to see the same dark headed woman sitting on the empty top bunk across from her. She'd never spoken before, but she was pretty. Sharp, angular features, and long dark hair, dressed in navy dressrobes.
"Who are you?" Jules whispered, careful not to awaken Hermione and Ginny, who were fast asleep.
"You'll know soon enough."
( AUTHOR NOTE )
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