Chapter Sixty-Five - The Dark Mark

Bagman vanished after the presentation of the Cup, and they saw no more of him that evening. Mrs. Zabini did not seem at all concerned about his disappearance. She simply joined Harry and her son back at their campsite.

They stayed up late watching the fireworks going off from the Irish camp as music poured in from all directions, knowing that they couldn't go to sleep even if they had wanted to. Harry didn't mind. He was too full of excitement for sleep. Talking it over with Blaise and Millie, he decided he wasn't disappointed in the outcome of the match. The Irish team had shown some spectacular plays, and Harry was eager to see how he could apply what he had learned at Hogwarts that year.

Yes, Bulgaria had lost. But it was Krum that caught the snitch, thereby sealing his reputation as the fastest and most skilled Seeker in the world. Harry felt secure in continuing to idolize him even while celebrating the Irish victory. Indeed, there was plenty to celebrate, and their small group made the most of it as the night wore on.

Eventually, they snuffed the campfire and moved inside the tent. Mrs. Zabini was comfortably seated near the stove, a mug of something strong in her hands, and looking as if she intended to stay for many hours more. She was in a heated debate with Sirius regarding the merits of the Firebolt, which surprised Harry. He hadn't thought Mrs. Zabini took much interest in Quidditch, until Blaise leaned over and whispered, "Mum's fifth husband used to be a professional Quidditch player. He designed racing brooms when he retired."

Harry was about to ask if he had been anyone famous, but he was distracted when the music outside their tent came to an abrupt stop. Indeed, he couldn't hear anything outside. No laughing or singing voices. The silence had come on so suddenly, its absence was palpable.

Harry was not the only one who had noticed the sudden change. The others exchanged confused glances, and Millie turned to look out one of the semi-transparent panels of their tent.

"What's going on?" she asked aloud, unable to make out any shapes in the dark night, "Why have the Irish stopped singing?"

Harry listened attentively and realized that not all was silent. There were still some faint noises coming from outside. He heard the sounds of rushing footsteps and even the occasional scream, punctuated by a loud bang that sounded like it came from far off. Harry didn't think it was more fireworks.

Remus rose from his seat by the stove, stating that it was probably only the Ministry quelling some of the more rambunctious partiers who had flaunted their magic too openly. He went to peak outside their tent, only to return a moment later, his face pale.

"Harry. Blaise. Millicent. Grab your things. We need to go."

Mrs. Zabini and Sirius were on their feet in an instant, alarm on each of their faces. They demanded answers at the same time.

"What is it, Remus?"

"What is happening out there?"

"It will be alright, but we have to move," Remus attempted to explain, "Several people have evacuated their tents already. It would be best to find shelter until we can get to a portkey."

"A portkey? But why? What is going on?" Sirius asked urgently.

Remus merely shook his head. Mrs. Zabini had already started to move, waving her wand over the children's belongings so that their bags were neatly packed. Harry, Blaise, and Millie grabbed the packs and hefted them over their shoulders. They didn't say a word, but their nervous glances were enough to communicate their fears to each other. Remus ushered them outside, and Harry saw for the first time the cause of the commotion.

All around him were the lights of a few campfires, apparently abandoned in haste. By their flickering light, he saw people running into the woods, fleeing from a group of wizards who were slowly picking their way through the maze of tents.

They moved in a tightly packed group. Some held their wands pointed straight up into the air, while others fired spells that echoed across the field with a loud bang. It was at such a moment that Harry saw their faces illuminated by the light of their wands. Or at least, he would have seen their faces, had they not been hooded and masked.

Harry did not know who the masked figures were, but he knew enough to realize that if they didn't want to be recognized, they were probably up to no good. It was then that he noticed where their uplifted wands were pointed. High above the shadowy group were four figures. Two of them were very small. Harry found himself squinting at them as they twisted and spun about unnaturally.

"Morgana protect us… Are those people?" Mrs. Zabini murmured fearfully, catching sight of the forms at nearly the same moment as Harry.

"Muggles, I'm afraid," Remus said in reply.

Without warning, Sirius broke away from their camp. He sprinted against the frightened crowd, heading straight for the masked group, clutching the amature wand Harry had crafted for him as his only weapon.

"Sirius, no!" Remus cried. He took a few running steps himself, intent on following Sirius. He stopped himself only to turn back to Mrs. Zabini and called, "Edana! Take the children somewhere safe. Follow the others to the trees. We'll meet you there!"

He did not wait for Mrs. Zabini's response. He had already taken off after Sirius. Harry was a breath away from following them both, but Mrs. Zabini's hand tightly gripped his arm.

"Let me go!" Harry pleaded, "I want to help them!"

"There is nothing you can do now but get in the way," Mrs. Zabini said sharply. She had never used this tone when speaking to Harry, and the fear in her voice forced him to stop struggling and follow her. Several other families had already fled to the safety of the woods near their campsite, and it was here that Mrs. Zabini led her young charges.

They stumbled a little upon reaching the trees, unable to find their footing in the dark. Mrs. Zabini presently lit her wand, illuminating the space around them, and revealing at the same time Draco Malfoy. He was leaning against a tree and unlike the others they had seen, he was not attempting to run away. He seemed to be waiting, all alone in the dark, while watching what passed in the field through a gap in the trees.

As he turned to face the sudden brilliance cast by Mrs. Zabini's wand, he met Harry's eye. He smirked again, as he had when they saw one another in the Top Box, but this time the look was wiped from his face when Mrs. Zabini addressed him.

"Draco!" she cried in alarm, "What are you doing here by yourself? Where is Narcissa?"

At the mention of his mother, Draco looked confused and uncomfortable. Harry guessed the truth. He suspected that Draco was only alone because his parents were currently in the campsite wearing masks. He couldn't say as much to Mrs. Zabini, however. She might not have appreciated any insinuations against her closest friend.

Draco struggled to find words to explain his presence there, but Mrs. Zabini was impatient. "Come along," she said in a tone that would not be argued with, "Your mother would not want you to be alone. You'll come with us until we can find her."

Draco had no choice but to obey. He reluctantly dragged himself forward, preparing to follow them further into the trees, when they heard an odd crashing sound moving through the brush toward them. Mrs. Zabini swung her wand to face the newcomer, only to reveal the house elf Harry remembered seeing in the Top Box. She was talking frantically to herself as she ran, saying, "Winky must run! Bad… Bad wizards are out… Winky will hide! It is too dangerous here!"

She was terrified, but it seemed that fear was not the only thing causing her distress. Every few steps she would stumble and fall. Her knobbly knees were already scraped and bruised. Still she pressed on, but it was as if someone held her back by an invisible cord, and every step was a trial.

"She must have been ordered to stay at the camp," Blaise commented.

Harry felt sick. The more he learned about the treatment of house elves, the more disgusted he became. It was disturbing to think that elves could not even protect themselves without permission. He wondered again who Winky's master was, as he had never appeared during the match. As the poor little elf disappeared into a thicket, Harry thought again of Dobby. Whoever Winky's master was, he must be as bad as the Malfoys.

Mrs. Zabini hurried them on, and Harry had a chance to whisper to the only Malfoy currently in his presence.

"Where are your parents anyway?" he hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid Mrs. Zabini's notice.

"Where are yours?" Draco snapped back.

Harry didn't need to remind Draco that his parents were dead. He was sure Draco was aware of this, and merely meant to wound him. Consumed with worry for Sirius, Harry did not want to give Draco the satisfaction of knowing he had struck a nerve, and he refrained from making any other comments as they made their way through the trees.

Mrs. Zabini kept them moving forward until they were far from the camp. They reached a small clearing in the very heart of the woods before she finally let them rest. All appeared calm. Harry strained his ears for any sound, but he heard nothing in the still night air. No spells booming in the distance, not even hushed voices from other groups who had taken shelter in the trees.

Draco threw himself onto a rock nearby. He seemed to be pouting. Harry wondered if he was disappointed that he couldn't stay to watch the riot. He considered trying to talk to him again, if only to goad him into talking about his parents once more, but he thought better of it when he noticed Mrs. Zabini. She had not relaxed her vigilance. Her hand was still on her wand, her eyes scanning the trees around them as if expecting a new threat to appear at any moment. Harry knew better than to tax her patience with petty arguments at this time.

"I don't hear anything," Millie commented when no one else spoke, "Perhaps they've stopped?"

Mrs. Zabini did not reply. She merely gave a slight shake of her head, her eyes still trained on the trees.

"Mum, what's happening?" Blaise asked, "Who were those people?"

"I can't be sure," Mrs. Zabini said, finally drawn into speech by her son's questioning, "But if Remus was right, and the family they took were Muggles... It could be a cruel prank, or the start of something much worse."

Harry couldn't seem to get the image of the floating figures out of his mind. What sort of person would think of that as a prank? He glanced at Draco again, who was particularly quiet. Harry thought of the Malfoys. He could guess what sort of people the masked figures were.

Unbidden, the image of Sirius engaged in a duel with Lucius Malfoy rose to his mind. He desperately wanted to go back and find him, help him… Thinking this, Harry instinctively reached for his own wand, only to realize with a cold sense of dread that it wasn't in his pocket. Had he remembered to bring it from the tent? He hastily took off his backpack and began rummaging through his belongings. The wand wasn't there.

Underage wizards were not allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry wasn't in the habit of carrying his wand during the summer months. He tried to remember the last time he had his wand, and thought he remembered taking it to the Quidditch match...

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from the trees. It sounded as if someone were stumbling toward their clearing. Mrs. Zabini, alert to any change in their surroundings, aimed her wand in that direction, but the feeble light from her wand was not enough to penetrate the shadows surrounding them.

"Stop!" Mrs. Zabini shouted, her voice firm and commanding, "Who's there? Reveal yourself!"

There was a moment of silence, then the night air was rent by a deep voice, shouting a single incantation, "MORSMORDRE!"

Harry did not recognize the spell, but he saw the results immediately. The dark trees were illuminated with an eerie green light. It expanded before shooting upward, floating above the trees and transforming into a colossal skull. Harry watched as the skeletal face unhinged its jaw, and from its mouth twisted a sinister serpent.

All around them, the woods erupted into screams. Those who had taken shelter had also seen the shape in the sky. Draco slipped off the edge of his rock, coming to the ground with a thump. Mrs. Zabini, in mute terror, moved instinctively to protect the children from whoever had conjured the skull.

It was lucky that she did. An instant later, they were surrounded by ministry officials. They had apparated to the clearing, completely surrounding them. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Zabini's quick thinking and a well-timed protection charm, they would all have been stunned on the spot.

Before the ministry wizards could fire again, a voice cried out for them to stop. Mrs. Malfoy darted through the trees toward her son, her face even paler than usual. She gathered Draco in her arms before her gaze travelled up to the menacing shape in the sky. Harry was surprised to see that her expression was as fearful as Mrs. Zabini's. Her husband, he noticed, was nowhere in sight.

Mrs. Malfoy was not the only one surprised to find them there. Remus and Sirius also cried out in alarm. They had been among the circle of ministry officials, having assisted them against the troublemakers in the camp. Not realizing who they were firing on, they now lowered their wands and rushed to Harry's side, relieved to see he was unharmed.

"What is going on here?" asked one of the ministry men in an imperious tone, interrupting their reunion.

Harry disliked the man immediately. He was too clean. His thin mustache was trimmed into a perfectly straight line. His pinstripe suit was immaculate. Even his shoes, now flecked with mud from the camp, showed signs of having been recently polished. Only his expression betrayed a flaw. He looked furious.

"Which one of you did it?" he continued, "Which one of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"Us?" Mrs. Zabini asked, her eyes flashing at the accusation, "We haven't done anything!"

"You expect me to believe that when you were found at the scene of the crime?"

"Take it easy, Crouch," said another voice. Harry recognized Mr. Weasley as he stepped forward.

"I recognize this group from the Top Box. Consider who they are with…" He directed a kindly look toward Harry with a nod and added, "I hardly think a friend of Harry Potter would conjure the Dark Mark, do you?"

Crouch, the man with the thin mustache, jerked his head in Harry's direction. He seemed to notice him for the first time. Then he spotted Sirius, who stood with his hand resting on Harry's shoulder. Crouch's lip curled in disdain, and Harry found himself wondering what Mr. Couch did for the Ministry. Was this yet another of the ministers responsible for Sirius's false incarceration?

He believed he guessed correctly, as Sirius's next words were, "You should listen to your ministers, Crouch. You wouldn't want to be throwing another innocent into Azkaban, would you?"

Crouch looked to be on the verge of a fit. Mr. Weasley wisely intervened to ask Mrs. Zabini, "Can you tell us what happened before we arrived?"

"There was a voice over there," Mrs. Zabini said, using her wand to point toward the trees, "It cast a spell. Then we saw the Mark."

"Did you see anyone?"

"No, it was too dark."

Mr. Weasley motioned to a man with a scrubby brown beard, "Amos, come along with me. Let's go check it out."

"You don't think they'd have disapparated by now?" asked Amos.

"Possibly, but our spells rebounded against that protection charm. It's possible one of them hit something… Or someone."

The two men walked slowly toward the trees, their wands raised. Harry felt Sirius's hand grip his shoulder, but Harry did not look at him. He was watching the trees, waiting.

He did not have to wait long. Mr. Weasley's voice called out that there was someone there. The men returned, only now Amos was carrying a small figure in his arms. Harry recognized the elf immediately. It was Winky, the elf from the Top Box, the one they had seen fleeing from the camp on her own.

Amos laid the elf down at Mr. Crouch's feet, muttering to himself as he did so, "Well, I mean to say, bit of an embarrassment..."

"Quiet, Amos," Mr. Weasley cautioned.

Mr. Crouch stared down at the house elf in silence. He seemed to be in a state of denial. He walked in the direction of the trees, as if to search the area himself. Amos called out that it was no use, there was no one else there. But Mr. Crouch would not be satisfied until he searched the darkness himself. When he returned, his expression was grave.

"Crouch, it may not be what it seems," Mr. Weasley suggested, "The Dark Mark is a wizard symbol. It requires a wand to produce."

"But she had a wand," Amos countered. Mr. Crouch stared at him as he raised his hand, revealing a second wand. "Which means she's already broken one rule. Clause three of the Code of Wand Use states that no non-human creature…"

"I know the law," Crouch interrupted, his gaze fixed on the wand.

Harry recognized it. It was his own.

"My wand!" Harry cried, stepping forward without thinking.

"Your wand?" Crouch repeated, turning his own on Harry with a look of distrust, "So you admit conjuring it?"

"Stop pointing that thing at my godson before you lose it, Crouch," Sirius said dangerously. Crouch complied, but only to turn his wand against Sirius in alarm.

Harry attempted to diffuse the tension before things got even more out of hand, "I didn't conjure anything. I noticed my wand was gone a moment ago. It must have fallen out of my pocket… Maybe Winky just picked it up?"

Crouch looked prepared to argue the point further, but at that moment, Ludo Bagman apparated on the scene. He didn't look quite so cheerful as he had before the match. He stared first at the Dark Mark, still lingering in the night sky, then around at the ministry officials before his gaze settled on Crouch.

"Barty!" he said, "What is going on? The Dark Mark, campsite ruined and… Goodness, is that Winky? Where were you during the match, Barty? She was saving a seat for you."

Harry realized then that Crouch must be Winky's master. The dislike Harry had felt toward him was now justified.

Mrs. Zabini stepped between the two men. "Ludo, Mr. Crouch's elf picked up Harry's wand," she stated, "He seems to think Harry conjured the Mark himself."

Bagman's eyes bulged and he glanced quickly at Harry, then Winky, then the wand still clutched in Amos's hand. Mrs. Zabini continued to stare at him, her expression demanding his assistance.

"But that's… Well, I mean to say… It seems you can settle this quickly," Bagman stammered before finally hitting on an idea, "Is she stunned? Why not revive her for questioning?"

For whatever reason, Mr. Crouch seemed reluctant to agree. He put forth no resistance, however, when Amos stepped forward and pointed his own wand at the elf.

"Ennervate," he said.

Winky's large eyes opened slowly. She blinked them languidly several times before she was aware of the people surrounding her. When she was fully awake, she raised herself shakily to her feet. Slowly, tremulously, she raised her eyes to stare into the face of the wizard in front of her. Then her eyes traveled above his head and looked up at the floating skull still visible in the night sky. She gasped, looked wildly around the clearing, and then her eyes fell on Mr. Crouch. She immediately burst into sobs.

"Elf!" said Amos sternly, ignoring her tears, "Do you know who I am? I am Amos Diggory with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Winky didn't appear to have heard him. She continued to sob, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Harry was reminded of Dobby when in his moments of terrified disobedience. Mr. Diggory continued to question her, always addressing Winky as "elf" in the harshest tone. Harry was beginning to think he cared for Mr. DIggory as little as he did Mr. Crouch.

"You were found with a wand in your hand, elf!" Mr. Diggory said, "Right beneath the Dark Mark! Explain yourself!"

"It wasn't her!" Harry blurted, his voice a bit louder than he had intended, "Winky's voice is… Well, it's squeaky, isn't it? The voice we heard was deeper. It was definitely human!"

"But the wand…" Mr. Diggory started to argue.

"I don't know where I lost it," Harry argued, "She might have picked it up off the ground."

"We'll see," growled Mr. Diggory, "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed. Did you know that, elf?"

Winky continued to sob and moan, though she now shook her head from side to side, her large ears flapping. Harry watched as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"Prior Incantato!"

Harry gasped as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met. It did not grow so large as the green skull above them, nor did it rise above the treetops. Instead it was like the mere shadow of the mark above them. It hovered in the clearing for only a moment before Mr. Diggory banished it with a wave of his wand.

"So!" Mr. Diggory said with a kind of savage triumph, "What do you have to say for yourself now, elf?"

"Amos," Mr. Weasley interrupted as Winky's cries reached a new, frantic pitch, "Stop and think a moment. There are very few wizards who know who to cast that spell. Where would she have learned it?"

Mr. Crouch spoke for the first time in several minutes. He had been considering his house elf with a very cold expression in silence, but at this prompting said in a tight voice, "Perhaps Mr. Diggory is suggesting that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

Whoever Mr. Crouch was, or whatever role he had in the Ministry, it must have been significant, because Mr. Diggory went from looking triumphant to looking very ill. He stammered his apologies, but it was not enough to appease Mr. Crouch.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me!" he shouted, "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"
"She… She might have picked it up anywhere…"
"That's precisely my point!" Mr. Weasley, ever the peacekeeper, interjected again.

"Winky," said Mrs. Zabini kindly, though the elf jumped as if she were still being shouted at, "Can you tell us where you picked up Harry's wand?"

Winky took a moment to stifle her tears. She began twisting the hem of the tea towel that was her only garment.

"I… I is finding it… finding it there, miss…" she whispered, pointing back to the copse of trees where she had been found.

"But then, you must have only been a few feet away from the culprit!" Mr. Diggory persisted, "Did you see anyone, elf?"

But Winky only twisted her hem more violently, fraying the edges. She raised her eyes toward Mr. Crouch again, addressing her answer to him more than the others.

"No...I is seeing no one, sir… No one…"
There was a moment of silence as their only lead slipped away, then Crouch spoke again in curt, clipped tones, "Amos, I am aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your custody for further questioning. However, I ask you 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, whoever he was, was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him. Especially not after insulting him through his line of questioning before.

Crouch added that she would be punished, and Winky began to plead with him for forgiveness in the meekest, most pathetic voice. When Crouch turned to face her again, however, there was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said, "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. I have no other option. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet, "No, master! Not clothes! Please, not clothes!"

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house elf free was to present it with proper clothing. He would normally rejoice that WInky would be free, especially from such a master, but he was moved to pity to see how devastated she was.

"She was frightened!" Harry found himself shouting angrily, "She's scared of heights and you left her in the Top Box alone! And those people, the ones in the masks… They were levitating people! She only wanted to get away, same as any of us!"

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me!" Crouch replied coldly, angered at being questioned about his decision in front of his Ministry peers.

Harry was thinking of Kreacher, Dobby, and Torsh again. It was painful to see Winky sobbing at Crouch's feet, and a glance at Blaise told Harry that his friend felt the same way.

"Mum," he whispered to Mrs. Zabini, "We have to do something…"

"It's alright," Mrs. Zabini whispered back. Aloud, she spoke to Remus, asking him if he would take the children back to their tent. She would remain to speak with the ministry officials and provide an official statement about what they saw.

Sirius and Remus complied. Sirius was particularly eager to get away from the clearing and the collection of ministry officials. Harry had the distinct impression that he did not like being in Crouch's company. He retrieved Harry's wand from Mr. Diggory, and together the group set off for the campsite, or whatever was left of it. Harry spared only one glance behind him as they left, and noticed that Draco and his mother had already slipped away while Mrs. Zabini spoke to the ministers.

"What was that all about?" Harry demanded as soon as they were out of earshot, "What was that skull thing?"

"I'll explain when we're back at the tent," Sirius promised him.

All was quiet back at the camp. Or it would have been quiet, but for the anxious crowd of witches and wizards gathered in conversation near the edge of the trees. They seemed to be waiting on news from inside the wood. Some even took a few steps toward their group until they caught sight of Sirius and the dark expression on his face. Thinking better of asking him, they drew back and let the party pass. There was no sign of the masked wizards now, though a few tents were still smoking, charred to ashes from the fires that had spread.

They found their own tent still intact, and Sirius led them all inside before speaking again.

"It was the Dark Mark," he said without preamble, "His symbol. And it hasn't been seen in thirteen years."

Harry did not need to ask who he meant. There was only one dark wizard who could cause this level of panic and confusion. Sirius was speaking of Lord Voldemort.

"I don't expect the three of you to understand," Remus said gently, "You were only babies at the time. But most of us remember what it was like when Voldemort was in power. Seeing his mark again tonight…"

Remus struggled to find the words to describe the feeling. He looked to Sirius, who gave him a nod and continued, "HIs followers would conjure the Dark Mark whenever they killed. Imagine coming home, expecting to see your family, and seeing that image hanging over your house instead."

Harry felt a shiver run up his spine. For a moment, he imagined that symbol hanging over his parents' home the night they were murdered. But then he remembered that Voldemort had vanished, cursed by his own spell. There would have been no one to cast the Dark Mark, but that knowledge didn't make him hate it less.

"What about those people?" Millie asked, "The ones they had in the air?"

"They were Muggles, after all," Remus explained, "And we believe the people in masks were Death Eaters… Former followers of Lord Voldemort."

"I know what they are," Harry replied, though he was glad to have some confirmation, "But what were they doing here? I thought they went into hiding after Voldemort disappeared?"

"There are those who still follow him… Still believe in their old hatreds," Sirius said, his nose wrinkling in disgust, "But as to why they were here now, who knows? Probably just wanted to show off, remind everyone they are still out there. Whatever the case, the cowards fled as soon as they saw the Dark Mark."

Harry thought again of the Malfoys. Draco and his mother had looked just as frightened by the Dark Mark as anyone else. He knew that Mr. Malfoy dealt in the dark arts, and he even suspected him of being a Death Eater. He couldn't make sense of their fear. Wouldn't they rejoice at seeing the symbol of their exalted leader again?

There was very little conversation among them for some time, as each was lost in their own thoughts. When Mrs. Zabini finally returned, it was with Winky, who was still sobbing inconsolably.

"Winky has agreed to come stay with me, on a provisional basis," Mrs. Zabini explained in response to their inquiring looks, "At least until she can find a new position."

Harry knew that Torsh was more than enough to meet Mrs. Zabini's needs. She did not need two house elves. He was grateful to her for taking in Winky, regardless. It was a comfort to know she would not be thrown out into the streets.

"I had better return home tonight," Mrs. Zabini was saying to Sirius and Remus, "I know Blaise was going to stay with you for the rest of the summer, but under the circumstances, perhaps he had better return with me?"

"I want to stay, mum," Blaise said before either Sirius and Remus could answer, "I'll be alright."

Mrs. Zabini hesitated a moment, but she agreed. It wasn't likely that anything worse would happen that night. Not with the Ministry sending for more officials and everyone on high alert.

"Let me know when you've returned safely," Mrs. Zabini said. She then grabbed one of Winky's small hands, and requested that she transport them to Ascending Downs. Winky, still sniffling, gave a small hiccup. Then there was a loud crack, and the pair of them disapparated.

"I think we had better return home, as well," Remus recommended, "It's late, but I don't like the idea of staying here till morning."

"It will be difficult to find a portkey," Sirius commented, "Many families are trying to find passage home."

"We could use side-along apparition," Blaise suggested.

Remus considered this proposal, but ultimately shook his head, "I don't want to leave any of you alone for a moment. And with three of you, there's too much that can go wrong."

Sirius nodded his head in agreement, "I don't think Edana would forgive either of us if one of you were to be splinched."

Harry didn't know what this phrase meant, but Remus cringed at the very suggestion of it. With a sigh, he said, "I can't believe I'm suggesting this… Sirius, can you apparate back to Grimmauld Place and bring back your motorcycle?"

Sirius did not hesitate. With a crack, he disappeared before Remus could change his mind.