"Morsmordre!"

Hermione felt numb all over.

Something vast, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Hermione's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew over the treetops and all over the night sky.

"What the -?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

Her blood froze. No way, no way.

It was a colossal skull, comprised on what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As she watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

The Dark Mark.

Suddenly, the wood around them erupted with screams. The Dark Mark was now visible to the entire campsite, it had risen high enough to illuminate the woods like some grisly neon sign.

Hermione was in motion. Her wand, which was already in her hand, was already performing a wand movement.

"Homenum Revelio," she stated clearly.

"Hermione, what are you doing? Let's go," moaned Ron.

"What's that?" came the confused question of a bewildered Harry. She ignored the both of them.

The spell hit a target - Barty Crouch Jr.

"Stupe-"

Before she could completely her spell, however, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of about twenty or more wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Hermione whirled around, and in a split second, she realized that all of them had wands; wands that are trained right in front of herself, Harry and Ron.

Without pausing to think, she yelled, "DOWN!"

At the same time, Harry had seized Ron and shouted, "DUCK!"

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty different yet simultaneous voices - there was a blinding series of flashes. 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!" shouted a voice she recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"

Hermione raised her head higher. The wizard in front of them had lowered his wand. The telltale fiery red hair was there. It was Mr Weasley, looking utterly terrified.

"Ron - Harry" - his voice sounded shaky - "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 are closing in on them, so Hermione got to her feet. Both Ron and Harry followed suit. 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 any of that," Harry said, gesturing towards the skull. "I don't even know what that is."

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry," whispered Hermione. "You-know-who's sign."

"What?" blurted Harry.

"We didn't do any of that," Ron said to Mr Crouch, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen gown, whom Hermione recognized as Amelia Bones, "they're kids, they've never have been able to -"

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" said Mr Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione edgily, pointing at the place where they have heard a voice earlier. "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 in his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed on how that Mark is summoned, missy-"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"I tried Homenum Revelio, by the way," she added. Ron nudged her. Some of the Ministry wizards gawked at her, too.

"How did you do that, Hermione?" asked Mr Weasley.

"I learned it, but that's beside the point. I've searched and there was a man - at least I think it is - over there."

"We're too late," said Amelia Bones, 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 watched him vanish and hoped against hope that she would find Barty Crouch Jr.

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, 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. She recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

"That's impossible," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. "What the spell recognized was a tall figure. Winky couldn't have been the one."

"Shh, Hermione," whispered Madam Bones to her.

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. Hermione knew that he was searching for his son.

"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. Hermione seethed for she knew that he had covered Barty Crouch Jr. Yet, she couldn't expose him because that would lead to questions raised and possibly worst turn of events. I would have to expose him later, she thought grimly.

"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. Hermione glared at them all - how dare they have no feelings for such?

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. Hermione 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. She has a name, you dolt. "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. Hermione wanted to rush to her and calm her.

"As you see, elf," - her name is Winky!- "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.

"It wasn't her!" Hermione protested. Mr Diggory and Mr Crouch looked at her. "Winky's got a squeaky voice, and the voice we heard was doing the incantation was much deeper!" She took a breath, looked for Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, didn't it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice." said Ron.

"Well, if the elf didn't do it," said Mr Diggory, unimpressed. "There's still the possibility that one of you -"

"Amos, that's enough. Do you-" Arthur cut off, but he himself was cut off from Hermione's voice.

"I beg you pardon, Mr Diggory. Are you accusing us, too? Because if you are, feel free to search us. We didn't conjure the Dark Mark, much less we know how. Did you really think that Harry Potter would conjure it? Or Ronald Weasley, son of Ministry wizard Arthur Weasley? Or even me, a simple muggleborn?" said Hermione hotly, eyes flashing dangerously. Amos Diggory unexpectedly took a step back.

"Er - sorry.." mumbled Amos. "Got carried away."

"Anyway, we'll soon see." Amelia said. "There's still a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand has used. Amos?"

Mr Diggory nodded and placed his wand tip to tip with the wand Winky was found with.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Amos.

Hermione took a sharp breath 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 four people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter - his friends and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"As the young lady has mentioned," Mr Crouch gestured towards her. "It was Arthur Weasley's son - and her parentage as a Muggleborn - highly unlikely, yes?"

"Yes, yes of course -"

"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!" 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 the 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 this 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 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. Hermione felt miserable because she could do nothing to help Winky.

"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!"

Hermione knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr Crouch's feet.

"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 portkey, if nobody's got any objections." Nobody did.

"Come on, you three," Mr. Weasley said quietly.

But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"Poor Winky," she said soberly. "It's not her fault."

"Of course it isn't," Harry added soothingly. Then, Hermione remembered something.

"Mr Weasley! There was - there was.. in the fight.." her voice dropped to a whisper, the memory repeating in her mind once more. ".. someone.. died."

Mr Weasley gravely nodded at her. "Poor Benjamin Alphonsus. Yes, we recovered his body. But please, let's not discuss this, it is safer to get back to the tent. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so upset about the skull thingy?"

"I'll explain everything later if we get to the portkey," Mr Weasley said tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr Weasley coming towards them, they all 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 then turned to the three of them and spoke, his voice still terse.

"The others got to the portkey before you, so I have no choice but to Apparate you one by one, because I cannot handle two side-Along apparitions. Your first time would be unpleasant, nevertheless, it is the surest way." He looked at each of them. "Well - which of you wants to go first?"

"Ladies first," said Harry.

"Err, yeah, Hermione should be first." Ron looked like he wasn't too keen at apparating.

Hermione gulped inaudibly. She wondered what Apparition felt like. Jean described it as unpleasant. Mr Weasley held out his arm and Hermione grabbed on tightly.

"Don't let go," warned Arthur.

She closed her eyes, held her breath-

Everything went black. She felt pressure everywhere, she felt being pressed very hard from all directions. Hermione could not breathe, there were iron bands in her chest. Her eyeballs felt compressed, and her eardrums felt like they were being pushed deeper and deeper in her skull, making her head throb. Her body felt like it was squeezed into a very tight rubber tube and-

She gulped great lungfuls of cold air and opened her watery eyes. Hermione wobbled on her steps, still clutching Mr Weasley's arm. She closed her eyes and dry heaved. It felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, the feeling is quite terrible indeed for first timers. Why don't you - Oh, thank Merlin, Molly's spotted us. I'll leave you now, Harry and Ron's still waiting."

And with a large pop, he was gone once more.

Hermione dizzily straightened up. It was then she realized she was no longer at the Quidditch World Cup, but outside the wards of the Burrow. She spotted Mrs Weasley making her way towards her, so she started walking, too.

"Oh dear, oh dear, Hermione, are you alright? Let's get you inside," she bustled.

Hermione, tired and weary, didn't even bother to reply.

A/N : So terribly sorry I wasn't able to update fast. :( Here it is, though. I have no beta, so please excuse my writing. Thanks! :D