The crowd howled with laughter, following the Death Eaters as they marched through the campsite; those not participating fled, leaving behind empty tents soon destroyed by the terrifying procession.
Karkaroff lurked in the safety of the copse, paralyzed, watching the mob from a distance. These, like him, had escaped justice – but he could not afford to join them, even if he wanted to. There was always the chance that one of his names had been someone's comrade, possibly even friend. Instead he simply watched, and waited.
For some reason, it didn't look like as much fun from on the outside.