The Dark Mark

'Don't tell your other you've been gambling,' Mr Weasley implored Fred and George, as they all made their way down the purple-carpeted stairs.

'Don't worry, Dad,' said Fred '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 further reflection, that he didn't want to know.

They let themselves get swept up into the crowd going back to the campsite. Once they entered the woods, John began to feel a creeping sense of unease, the same he had been feeling about the World Cup for weeks. He tried to look further to see the cause, but was still only able to see darkness with a few flickering lights and odd shape, until someone in the crowd shoved past him and snapped him out of it completely, not hanging around long enough to hear his muttered profanity directed at them.

When they got back to the tent, no one particularly felt like sleeping so Mr Weasley agreed to one mug of hot chocolate before bed. They all went into the living room in Sherlock's tent, where there was more room.

John was having a very engaging conversation with Fred and George about the Beaters, when a very strange sensation came over him, as if he was both weightless and spinning. He put both his arms out to try and steady himself. Sherlock was sitting across the room with Castiel, and his eyes flashed over to John.

'Can I ask you two a question?' John said to Fred and George. 'Am I – floating?'

'Er – no,' said Fred.

'Oh. That's new. What do you think that's about?'

'That's not really our area, John.'

'Yeah, true.' Then he felt something similar to his feet hitting the ground, and the spinning abruptly stopped. 'Okay, I think that's it now. Pass me some hot chocolate?'

George gave him a mug. 'You sure you're all right?'

'Yep, fine,' John said, taking a sip. 'Sort of feels like I'm running.'

'Running from what?' said Sherlock, coming over.

'Don't know, can't see it.'

'What can I do?'

'Nothing, as far as I can tell.'

Sherlock nodded and hovered anxiously, while everyone else continued discussing the match.

It wasn't until Sam and Ginny fell asleep right at the table that Mr Weasley realised what time it was, and insisted that they all go to bed. Everyone but John and Sherlock left for their own tents, leaving it quiet but for the singing and celebrating from around the campsite.

'Sherlock?' said John as they changed into their pyjamas in his room.

'Yes?'

'Why can't I – I dunno – feel you?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well I – we have this connection thing, right? You can feel m and I used to feel you sometimes, but now it's gone.'

'That is quite strange,' Sherlock said slowly. 'But what makes you think I know?'

John shrugged. 'I don't know. You just always seem to have the answer.'

Sherlock smiled at him. 'I appreciate your faith in me, John, but I'm afraid I know as much about this as you do. Perhaps we should visit the centaurs again when we return to Hogwarts.'

'Yeah maybe. I'd rather avoid it though. They're not the easiest to deal with.' John then yawned and stretched. 'Whatever it is, it's going to have to wait.'

'Goodnight, John.'

''Night.'

Sherlock left and John climbed into the comfortable bed, wishing his bed at Hogwarts was as soft.

It seemed that no sooner had his head hit the pillow that he was awake again, in complete darkness and sweating profusely He sat up and listened as the sounds of celebration suddenly turned into screams of fear and the pounding of hundreds of running feet.

'Sherlock!' he shouted, scrambling out of bed.

Sherlock was there in an instant, throwing a coat on over his pyjamas and handing John his. 'Let's go,' he said.

Outside was chaos. In the e light of the few flickering fires that were still lit, they could see people running into the woods, away from something moving towards them on the other side of the campsite. Everyone else clambered out of their tents as well, and a blast of green light lit up what was approaching them.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together, wands pointed straight up, was marching slowly across the field. Their heads were hooded and faces masked. High above them, floating along in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. 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 one of the marchers blasted a tent out of their way. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed by a burning tent, and John recognised one of them as Mr Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three must be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs Roberts upside down Her nightdress fell down and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her hooted with glee.

'That's sick,' Ron muttered, watching the small Muggle boy spinning like a top, his head flopping limply from side to side.

John ground his teeth and took a step forward, feeling quite queasy once again, but Sherlock grabbed his elbow.

'Don't,' he said.

'But-'

'Don't.'

Bill, Charlie and Percy rolled up their sleeves and ran towards the crowd with their wands out.

'We're going to help the Ministry,' Mr Weasley shouted over the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. 'You lot, get into the woods and stick together. I'll come for you when we've got this sorted.'

Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction towards the trouble and Mr Weasley tore after them.

'Come on,' said Dean, throwing an angry look at the crowd, but grabbing Sam and pulling him towards the wood. The rest of them followed, but stopped at the entrance. The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished, so there were a lot of people blundering around in the dark. Children were crying, anxious shouts and panicked voices reverberated around them, and John felt himself being pushed around by people whose faces he couldn't see. Then he heard Ron yell in pain.

'What's happened? Hermione said anxiously. '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.

'Well, with feet that size, hard not to,' said a drawling voice.

They turned and saw Draco Malfoy alone, leaning against a tree, looking completely relaxed. 'Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't want them spotted, would you?' He nodded at John and Hermione.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Hermione said defiantly.

'They're after Muggles,' said Malfoy. 'D'you want to be spun around in mid-air? If you do hang around… They're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.'

'They're both magic,' Harry snarled.

'Have it your own way, Potter,' said Malfoy. 'If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.'

'You watch your mouth!' shouted Ron.

Sherlock's grip on John tightened in anger.

'Come on,' said Hermione, 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, pulling Ron up the path.

'I bet you anything his dad is one of those masked lot,' Ron said hotly as they continued on.

'Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him,' said Hermione. 'Oh, I can't believe this, where have the others got to?'

Fred, George and Ginny where nowhere to be seen, nor where Sam and Dean, though the path was packed with plenty of other extremely nervous people.

A huddle of teenagers in their pyjamas were arguing a little way along the path. When they saw Hermione and the boys, a girl with thick, curly hair turned and said quickly, 'Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue.'

Cas blinked. 'Je ne sais pas Madame Maxime, désolé,' he said.

'Oh. Merci.' She turned her back on them and they moved on.

'They must go to Beauxbatons,' said Hermione.

'Most likely,' said Cas.

'The others can't have got far,' said Ron, pulling out his wand and lighting it.

The rest of them followed suit, except Harry.

'Ah, no, I don't believe it,' he said, digging through his pockets. 'I've lost my wand!'

'You're kidding?' said John.

They all raised their wands high so that Harry could get a good look around, but it wasn't there.

'Maybe it's back in the tent,' said Ron.

'Maybe I fell out of your pocket when we were running?' Hermione said anxiously.

'Yeah, maybe,' said Harry. 'John, can you...?'

Right, yeah.' John closed his eyes and concentrated on Harry's wand, almost confident that his familiarity with it would make it easier for him to see it. 'Okay, yeah, I can see it slipping out of your pocket in the – in the Top Box.' But it disappeared again when a wave of nausea hit him.

'The Ministry will have picked it up then,' said Ron. 'We can get it back once this is all sorted.'

A rustling noise made them all jump Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving with great difficulty, as though someone invisible was trying to hold her back.

John gasped quietly as everything around him pulsed, but there was too much going on around him for him to be able to focus.

'There is bad wizards about!' Winky squeaked, her voice echoing in John's ears. 'People high – high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!' Then she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

Once she was gone, John felt slightly more normal, but the nausea remained.

'What's up with her?' said Ron. 'Why can't she run?'

'Bet she didn't get permission to hide,' said Harry.

'You know, house-elves get a very raw deal,' Hermione said indignantly. 'It's slavery, that's what it is!'

Sherlock tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves, slightly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking.

'Well, they're happy, aren't they?' Ron said. 'You heard Winky 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 unjust systems because they're too lazy to-'

A loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

'Let's just keep moving,' Ron said nervously.

They followed the dark path deeper into the woods, still keeping an eye out for the others, until they came across a patch of silvery light where three Veela were standing surrounded by a gaggle of you wizards. They were all talking loudly, making absurd claims to impress the Veela.

'Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?' Ron yelled, his face slack.

Sherlock tutted and Hermione said, 'Honestly!' as she and Harry had to drag him away by the arms.

By the time the sounds of the Veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the woods. They seemed to be alone and everything was much quieter.

'Let's just wait here,' said John, thankful for the quiet. 'We'll hear anyone coming.'

'Good idea. There's a clearing just there,' said Sherlock.

Though unsettled by the quiet rustling of the trees around the clearing, John and Sherlock sat down on a raised tree root together. Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled together close by, but Castiel was too nervous to stand still and began walking around the perimeter of the clearing.

John then attempted to force a vision, though he wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for. The quiet conversation that Harry, Ron and Hermione were having wasn't nearly as distracting as the earlier chaos. He saw Winky again, first in the woods, then in the Top Box, only now there was a translucent white cloud following her. 'What does that mean?' he muttered, but he didn't get the chance to work it out.

A sound like someone staggering towards their clearing caused all of them to quickly look around, and Castiel to back away from the edge of the trees. They waited, stock still, listening to the sounds of uneven footsteps, which suddenly came to a halt.

'Hello?' called Harry.

There was silence.

'Who's there?' said Harry.

Then, without warning, the silence was rent by a loud voice shouting out a spell.

'MORSMORDRE!'

Something vast, green and glittering erupted from beneath the dark trees and into the sky. A colossal skull, composed of what seemed like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue, had appeared in the sky.

Suddenly, John couldn't breathe. Crippling fear, pain and anger came in waves, from everyone who had ever seen it or ever would. He collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself. Screams and crying filled his ears, a hundred times worse than any of the times he'd seen Bertha Jorkins. Hundreds of faces of all ages flashed before his eyes. He whimpered and felt a hand grip his shoulder.

Sherlock had knelt down beside him and couldn't tell whether the screams he was hearing were coming from John or from the people in the woods around them.

'We have to go,' said Hermione, looking terrified.

'I don't think we're going anywhere,' said Sherlock, holding onto John who was rocking back and forth.

'What's the matter?' said Harry, startled.

'It's the Dark Mark, Harry!' Hermione groaned. 'It's You-Know-Who's sign!'

'We have to get out of here,' said Cas. He too was extremely pale.

'But John-'

'Lift him up.'

Sherlock and Cas put their arms around John's waist and pulled him to his feet. He was limp and couldn't stand, but they began dragging him out of the clearing. They didn't get far, however, before there was a series of popping noises and about twenty or so wizards appeared, surrounding them. In a split second, Sherlock realised they had their wands out, and were aiming directly at the six of them. 'GET DOWN!' he yelled, pulling John and Castiel down to the ground. Harry had done the same with Ron and Hermione.

'STUPEFY!' roared all twenty voices and jets of fiery red light flew over their heads, rebounding off the trees and into the darkness.

'Stop!' yelled a voice. 'STOP! That's my son!'

The spells stopped bouncing around and the wizards all lowered their wands. Mr Weasley and Mycroft came striding over to them.

'Ron,' said Mr Weasley shakily. 'Are you all okay?'

'Out of the way, Arthur,' said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Everyone but John and Sherlock got to their feet to meet them.

'What's wrong with him?' Mycroft asked Sherlock as he coaxed John into a sitting position. His face was scrunched up and his fists clamped on large clumps of his own hair.

'The Dark Mark,' Sherlock muttered. 'It set him off.'

'What will you tell them?'

'Not my priority right now.' Sherlock winced at a throbbing in his temples.

'Which of you did it?' Crouch snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them all. 'Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?'

'You've got to be joking,' Sherlock said, looking up. 'You can't possibly think we had anything to do with this?'

'Do not lie, sir!' Crouch shouted, wand pointed at Sherlock. 'You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!'

'This is absurd,' said Mycroft. 'None of them were more than infants when You-Know-Who disappeared, where on earth would they have learned to conjure the Mark?'

'It's all highly suspicious!' said Mr Crouch, his eyes popping and making him look slightly mad. 'You, get up!' He pointed his wand at John.

'Leave him alone, he's not well!' said Hermione.

'Unwell, or cursed?' Then he moved on to Cas. 'And you – you're awfully quiet. Something to hide?'

Cas crumpled slightly, rubbing his arm and biting his lip at the same time.

'Barty, they're just kids,' whispered a witch.

'Where did it come from?' Mr Weasley said quickly.

'Over there,' said Hermione, pointing. '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. 'Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how the Mark is summoned, missy.'

But none of the other Ministry wizards seemed it remotely likely that any of them had conjured the skull. On the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had raised their wands and were pointing in the direction she had indicated.

'We're too late,' said the witch. 'They'll have Disapparated.'

'I don't think so,' said another wizard, who came forward, revealing himself as Mr Diggory. 'Our Stunners went right through those trees. There's a good chance we got them.'

Mr Diggory marched off into the trees and John groaned quietly.

'Sherlock,' he mumbled, curling up even further. 'Make it stop.'

'Mycroft, get us out of here,' Sherlock said through gritted teeth.

'Mr Crouch,' said Mycroft, turning to him, 'this boy is very ill, we should let them go.'

'No one leaves until we find the culprit,' said Mr Crouch.

'But-'

'I said no one.'

Sherlock pursed his lips. 'Hold on a little longer, John,' he whispered. 'It'll be over soon.'

'It hurts.'

'Cas?'

Cas shook his head. 'All my potions are in my coat pocket,' he said in a high-pitched voice. 'I'm not sure they'd even work on him.'

Sherlock sighed and his head throbbed again. 'Can we at least get rid of that?' he asked the gathered wizards, gesturing up at the Mark.

'No one knows how,' said the witch. 'We have to wait until it fades on its own.'

Just then, they heard Mr Diggory shout, 'We've got them! There's someone here! It's – but – blimey…'

'You've got someone?' shouted Mr Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. 'Who? Who is it?'

Mr Diggory emerged from the trees carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. It was Winky. Mr Diggory lay her at Mr Crouch's feet and waited with everyone else for his reaction.

For a few seconds, Mr Crouch remained transfixed as he stared down at Winky. 'This- cannot – be,' he said. 'No-' He strode off to the place Winky had been found.

'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.

'Bit embarrassing,' Mr Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. 'Barty Crouch's house-elf…'

'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, and she had a wand.'

'What?'

'Here, look,' Mr Diggory held up a wand. '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 a wand.'

Then Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr Weasley, looking breathless and disorientated. He span on the spot, staring up the emerald green skull. 'The Dark Mark!' he panted, almost trampling on Winky. 'Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?'

Mr Crouch had returned empty-handed.

'Where have you been, Barty?' said Bagman. 'Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too. Hold on-' he had just noticed WInky lying at his feet. 'What happened to her?'

'I have been busy, Ludo,' said Mr Crouch. 'And my yelf has been Stunned'

'Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why-?' Comprehension dawned suddenly on his face. 'No!' he said. 'Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand for a start!'

'She had one,' said Mr Diggory. 'I found her holding one, Ludo. Iff it's all right with you, Mr Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself.'

Sherlock butted in. 'Now that you know that none of us did this, let us go,' he demanded.

'Mr Crouch, I must insist you let these children go,' said Mycroft. 'This boy needs attention.'

Mr Crouch stared at them for a moment.

'Wait, that's mine!' Harry called out, as the wand Mr Diggory was holding was bathed in light from the Dark Mark.

'We're leaving,' said Sherlock, hoisting John back to his feet. He caught Castiel's eye and gestured him over.

This time, Mr Crouch made no move to stop them as Sherlock marched them out of the clearing. It wasn't until they were about half way out of the woods that they realised Harry, Ron and Hermione had not followed them.

John was beginning to gain some semblance of control over himself and became vaguely aware of his surroundings.

'Come on, John, you can do this,' Sherlock said breathlessly, propelling him forwards

'I should conjure a stretcher,' said Cas

'No,' John mumbled, slurring slightly. 'People will panic.' He planted his feet more firmly on the ground and stumbled slowly on, keeping one hand pressed to his forehead and the other holding Sherlock's arm.

There was a crowd of people and cameras waiting on the edge of the woods. They all yelled all at once, but Sherlock pushed past them without answering any of them.

They finally reached their tents. Cas dashed into his to grab his potions. Bill and Charlie were waiting outside the Weasley's tent, but Sherlock went past them too into his own tent He lowered John into one of the soft armchairs in the living room.

'I think it's stopping,' John said, voice barely more than a whisper. John sank further into the chair and shakily attempted to wipe away the tears quickly trickling down his cheeks. 'I never want that to happen again… it was so awful.'

Cas then came into the room clutching several phials of potion. He was followed by the Winchesters and the majority of the Weaslys. He handed a purple potion to Sherlock and John. 'This should help with the pain,' he told them, then moved on. Bill was holding a bedsheet to one arm which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose.

'Sherlock, what's going?' said Fred. He, George and Ginny seemed to be unharmed. 'Who conjured it?'

'No idea,' said Sherlock. 'The others are still in the woods with the Ministry.'

John took a small sip of his potion at a time and his had gradually cleared of the screams and pain, though now all he could feel was a bone-deep weariness that made it difficult for him to lift the phial at all.

Cas, meanwhile, was dabbing a different potion on Bill's arm, which stopped it bleeding.

'Are you okay?' Dean said, coming up to him. 'I'm so sorry we left you behind like that, I was just so focussed on Sam-

It's fine, Dean, I understand. I was safe with the others.'

'I'm still sorry. Can I help you with anything?'

Cas gave him a bit of potion and directed him over to Percy.

They all sat down around the living room and waited. Bill went outside to look out for the others. John struggled to stay awake in his chair, Charlie and Percy were talking quietly in one corner and Fred and George were messing around, trying to cheer Ginny up. Sam, however, was too unsettled to sit still, so he walked around browsing Sherlock's books instead.

'Hey, you're bleeding again,' Dean said to Cas.

Cas shook his head and held up the empty phial of potion he'd used on Charlie. 'I'll live,' he said.

Finally, Mr Weasley, Harry, Ron and Hermione came into the tent with Bill.

'Did you get them, Dad?' said Charlie. 'The person who conjured the Mark?'

'No,' said Mr Weasley. 'We found Mr Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark.'

'Harry's wand?' said Fred.

'Mr Crouch's elf?' said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

'Maybe the cloud that was following her did it,' John mumbled sleepily, one eye half open.

Mr Weasley glanced at Sherlock. 'What do you mean, John?' he said gently.

'I saw a cloud following her around. White and sort of person-sized.'

Sherlock's eyes widened. 'Someone under an invisibility cloak?' he said.

Mr Weasley crouched in front of John. 'John, can you see under the cloak?' he said urgently.

John pulled himself up slightly straighter but hesitated. 'It'll be harder if I'm not actually looking at Winky.' He tried to recall what he had seen earlier, but found himself too tired to bring up more than a grey image. He slumped back down in his chair.

'He's exhausted, Mr Weasley,' said Sherlock.

'That's all right,' Mr Weasley said kindly. 'I'm sure the Ministry will sort it out.'

John nodded, then continued to fight off sleep while everyone else talked.

'So tell us what happened,' said Dean.

'We were right next to whoever conjured it,' said Hermione. 'They thought it was us at first, but then they found Winky in the woods.'

'She had Harry's wand and she said she'd found it in the woods,' Mr Weasley continued.

'Harry dropped it in the stadium, so whoever it was must have picked it up there,' Sherlock told them.

'They couldn't find who it was, and even though Winky didn't do it, Mr Crouch fired her anyway,' Hermione frowned.

'Quite right, too,' Percy said indignantly. 'Running away when he'd expressly told her not to, and embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry. How would that have looked, if she'd been 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 quite taken aback.

'Hermione, a wizard in Mr Crouch's position can't afford to have a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!' Percy said pompously.

'She didn't run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!'

'Hey, I got an idea,' Dean interrupted. 'Let's stop arguing about a damn house-elf and talk about what this Dark Mark thing is.'

'It's You-Know-Who's symbol,' said Hermione before anyone else could answer. 'I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.'

'And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years,' said Mr Weasley. 'Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again.'

'Why? What does it mean?' Dean asked.

'You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed,' Mr Weasley explained. 'The terror it inspired, you have no idea. Just picture coming home, finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house and knowing what you're about to find inside… Everyone's worst fear… the very worst…'

There was silence for a moment, then Bill 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.'

'What are Death Eaters?' Harry asked.

'It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves,' said Bill. 'I think we saw what's left of them tonight – the ones that managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban anyway.'

'We can't prove it was them, Bill,' said Mr Weasley. 'Though it probably was,' he added hopelessly.

'Yeah, I bet it was,' said Ron. 'We met Draco Malfoy in the woods and he didn't look worried at all, and we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who.'

'But what were Voldemort's – sorry – You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles?' said Harry. 'What's the point?'

'The point?' said Mr Weasley, with a hollow laugh. 'Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,' he said disgustedly.

'But if they were Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?' said Ron. 'They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?'

'Use your brains, Ron,' said Bill. 'If they were really Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep themselves out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to torture and kill 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 and went back to their daily lives… I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased to see them, do you?'

'So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…' Hermione said slowly, 'were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters or scare them away?'

'Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione,' said Mr Weasley. 'But I'll tell you this, it was Death Eaters that knew how to conjure it – I wouldn't be surprised if the person who did it had been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now… Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep, then we'll get an early Portkey out of here.'

Sherlock helped John out of his chair. Cas stepped in front of them and handed John one more potion. 'For nightmares,' he said, before leaving the tent.

John took it gratefully and everyone else trudged back to their own tents.

'I've never been more tired in my life,' John said as Sherlock helped him into his bed.

'One of the many side-effects of your powers.'

'Yeah.' John was asleep almost immediately, but Sherlock was loathe to leave him, so he settled down on the end of the bed and watched John sleep.

Hey everyone, welcome back! Thanks to Guest, TimedragonD, Sherlock Harry Winchester, RHatch89, DaughterofMagic3, Morgause Pendragon, Tacosaurus, Guest, Sweet Nerds and another Guest for the awesome reviews and hey! more than one line of reviewers to thank! You guys are awesome.

So sorry about the wait. Between job hunting and some family issues I've been struggling to find the time for this BUT I have a steady job now, so hopefully I'll be able to get back to more regular updates. Thank you all so much for your patience, and I'll see you all next time!