Chapter Six: The Dark Mark Returns

"Harry! Harry!"

Ron ran through the Great Hall, knocking over a few Ravenclaw 3rd years and causing some Hufflepuffs to jump onto a bench to avoid being crushed by Ron's tall, lanky figure.

"Harry, have you seen the Prophet!" Ron wheezed, out of breath.

Harry looked at Ron with a confused and a bewildered expresion. The morning's owls had not yet come so, to Harry's knowledge, no one at Hogwarts had seen the Prophet yet.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"The mail hasn't come yet, Ron, how could we have seen the Prophet?" Hermione asked, giving him a curious look.

"Oh, right. Well, an owl brought it to our dorm window while I was getting dressed. I think it was meant to be delivered to you, Harry. Bloody thing bit me when I tried to take the paper from it and then it flew over to your bed. Would only play nice when I said I would deliver it to you," Ron explained, holding up his crudely wrapped finger and tossing the paper, stained with a bit of his blood, in front of Harry.

Harry picked up the paper and unfolded it. His eyes froze on the image that covered the front page. It was a village being consumed by a large fire. However, it was not the burning village that made Harry's heart skip a beat. It was the night sky above the village, where the clouds where in the form of a ghostly skull and serpent.

Ginny, who had been sitting next to Harry, leaned over and read the headline out loud.

"Muggle Village Near the Black Forest Attacked by Death Eaters."

Hermione gave a small gasp and Neville, who had been sitting nearby, jerked his head up and shifted closer to them. Harry's hands, which were grasping the paper tightly, began to shake slightly. How could this have happened? Didn't Kingsley have all available Aurors out bringing in Death Eaters? Why would Death Eaters attack a Muggle village? Wouldn't that just bring unwanted attention to them, since they obviously had managed to avoid being caught this long? It did not make any sense to Harry.

Ginny, seeing Harry's hands start to shake, gently took the paper from him and read the rest of the article out loud. The village had a population of 200. Only a few survivors had been found but they said they did not know what had happened. They had lived at the very edge of town. One woman, from a little further in the village, said she had been in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when she heard a loud explosion from the center of the village. When she turned to her window, all she saw was a wall of fire moving rapidly towards her home, consuming everything in its path. She said she managed to run out of her back door before the fire reached her home and left it as nothing more than a pile of ash in a matter of seconds. According to the article, all the homes that were in direct path of this wall of fire became ash. Only the houses and trees at the very edge were spared the instant transformation into ash. They simply caught on fire and slowly burned to the ground. The only detail all of the survivors had the same was seeing a brilliant green flash of light shoot into the sky after the wall of fire had disappeared. Then they saw the clouds take the shape of a skull with a serpent coming from its mouth. The Ministry of Magic sent all available Aurors, members of the Magical Law Enforcement, and Healers to the village. Kingsley was currently meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister about the recent attack.

When Ginny had finished reading, they sat in silence. Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings filled the Great Hall. The morning mail had arrived. Three average-sized brown owls dropped Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's copies of the Daily Prophet in front of them. Once the owls left, gasps could be heard coming from all around the hall from other students who had received a copy of the Daily Prophet. Many turned and stared in Harry's direction. Harry did not notice. He sat there, staring into space, his stomach churning.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"What? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine," said Harry, unconvincingly.

"I wonder why the Death Eaters would attack a Muggle village," Neville said, echoing the thoughts Harry had earlier. "I mean, don't they know that practically everyone in the Ministry is after them? Did the article say how many of them there were?"

"No," Ginny said to Neville, scanning the article again. "No one saw any Death Eaters, just the fire and the Dark Mark. Honestly, if they hadn't cast the Dark Mark, people would have assumed that it was an unfortunate gas explosion."

Harry stayed silent, his mind trying to figure out if the attack was just a group of disgruntled Death Eaters tired of hiding or a sign of a bigger problem. If it was just some disgruntled Death Eaters, the Ministry would be able to handle it. However, if it was something bigger…

"You don't think Voldemort had some plan in place in case he was killed? I mean, when he figured out we were going after the horcruxes, maybe he gave some of his followers instructions. Maybe this attack was a part of some plan that will bring him back," Said Ron.

"Really Ron, Voldemort believed he was invincible, even when all the horcruxes were gone and he was facing Harry in the Great Hall, he still believed he couldn't be defeated," Hermione reasoned.

"It's not related to Voldemort," Harry said quietly. "It can't be. Hermione's right, he thought he was invincible and, even if he had any doubts about that, he had to have known that once the horcruxes were gone, if he was killed there was no way to bring him back."

Hermione looked at Harry sympathetically. She knew this unfortunate news was eating away at him. Everything was supposed to be peaceful and normal, now that Voldemort was dead. There weren't suppose to be Death Eater attacks, at least not with such a large death toll. Watching Harry's face carefully, Hermione could see guilt in his eyes. She wondered, sadly, why Harry continued to blame himself for everything when none of this was his fault. The entire wizarding world should feel guilty for the unimaginable responsibility it placed on his shoulders again and again, for the danger it forced Harry to run in to, and for the losses Harry has suffered.

Word spread quickly around the Great Hall of the attack and the four house tables were all talking about what the attack could mean. Harry, growing tired of the stares and whispers, mumbled he was going to his office to go over his lesson plans and left the Great Hall. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville remained seated and exchanged worried glances as Harry walked away from them.

"I don't think Harry is taking this well," said Ginny worriedly.

"It's Harry, I'm sure he'll be fine. Harry's gone through worse. I mean, what's a rogue Death Eater attack when you've face Lord Voldemort?" said Ron, clearly not tuning into his best friend's anxiety.

Hermione shot Ron a disapproving look and snapped, "Yeah and when we assumed he'd be fine or be able to handle it during our 5th year, he became an angry, depressed prat who kept pushing us away or biting our heads of!" Throwing her legs over the bench, Hermione walked away without another word, leaving Ron with a bewildered look on his face and wondering how many flowers it would take to get Hermione to talk to him again.

Upstairs, Harry slammed his office door shut with such force the bookshelves on the back wall shook, knocking one of his books onto the floor. With a frustrated sigh, Harry walked over to the fallen book and picked it up, running his hand across the cover. It had been a Christmas gift from Sirius during his 5th year. The year Sirius died. Hot tears formed in Harry's eyes and an uncomfortable lump in his throat made it difficult to breathe. He placed the book gently back on the shelf, his fingers lingering a moment on the smooth leather binding. Without the threat of Voldemort to keep his mind preoccupied, Harry was finally beginning to truly grieve the lost of his beloved godfather. Turning around, Harry's eyes widened slightly when he saw Hermione standing there.

"Hermione," Harry greeted with a jerky nod of his head, before sitting down and pretending to be reading over the lesson plan on his desk. "Bit busy at the moment."

"Right, practicing reading upside down I see," Hermione replied curtly.

Harry looked down and noticed the orientation of the piece of parchment he was holding. Embarrassed, he turned it around and kept his head down, hoping Hermione had not seen the tears in his eyes. Strolling behind Harry's desk, Hermione took the parchment from his, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"Harry, something is wrong. Don't deny it. Don't try and be gallant and say you'll be fine. We've been through too much to start hiding things from each other now. Talk to me, please," she said, pleading.

"Hermione, I appreciate the concern but really, it's nothing. Just, just a bit tired. Been practicing a lot. You know, first Quidditch match in a couple of weeks," Harry said weakly.

"Harry."

With another sigh, Harry turned away from her.

"I don't know what to do about this, Hermione. Am I supposed to volunteer to go and find these Death Eaters? Is that what is expected of me because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived? Or do I just ignore it, pretend it didn't happen and keep acting like everything is normal? But I can't do that can I? You saw the stares and heard the whispers, I'm sure every single class I teach this week will ask me about the damn attacks. Why did they attack that Muggle village? Why cast the Dark Mark? What are they trying to prove? Is it to get back at me? All those questions and I don't have one decent answer to give. No matter how many times I save the world, people end up hurt and the only thing I can keep thinking is, 'Is this my fault?'"

The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth, getting louder and louder, as though a gate had been opened that was impossible to close. A mixture of anger, confusion, and guilt was dripping from every word. Hermione stood silently, letting Harry speak. When he had finished, she placed her hand on his shoulder, and bent down so their faces were level with each other.

"Harry James Potter," she said slowly, emphasizing each word, staring into his eyes, "this is not your fault. Nothing that has ever happened has been your fault. I don't know why the Death Eater's attacked or cast the Dark Mark but I do know this. It is not your responsibility to find out. The only responsibilities you have right now are to teach, learn, and beat the snot out of Slytherian in Quidditch."

Harry let a small laugh. He wasn't sure why Hermione's words were so comforting but they warmed his heart and eased the anger and sadness that had been building inside of him. He thought back to that day at the Burrow when Hermione had held him while he cried. Harry had always struggled to be open about his feelings, even with Ginny, he did not share much regarding the more painful feelings about his life. Yet, with Hermione, it was different. He felt safe sharing with her and it was surprisingly easy, in comparison to the others.

"Harry?"

"Thanks Hermione," Harry said, placing his hand on his shoulder, over her hand. "Don't know what I would do without you."

"Lean on Ron for emotional support?" Hermione suggested and at that, they both started laughing, knowing that Ron wasn't exactly an expert in handling anything involving an emotion beyond the joy of eating.

As their laughter carried out into the corridor, another laugh echoed deep in the Forbidden Forest followed by an agonizing cry.

"I'm going to ask you again, did you see a boy with a lightning scar walking through the woods on the night the Dark Lord died?" Nott demanded, wand pointed at a bound and bleeding centaur.

"N-n-no! Please! I swear! He must have been under an invisibility cloak or used a charm of some sort! Please, have mercy!"

Nott straightened up, his eyes not leaving the centuar. It made sense that Potter would have traveled into the forest under the invisibility cloak that night. However, it did not help him in his search for the resurrection stone that he knew Potter must have left somewhere in the forest. His three, unnamed, ever-hooded companions had questioned Nott's theory about the stone's location.

"I'm telling you, Potter would not have kept the stone on him. Potter's weak, he would have tried to use it keep seeing his dead parents or that blood traitor Sirius Black. The temptation would have been too great for him," he had argued.

"How do you know he ever had the stone? There are no accounts of him having it. I think your hatred of Potter is clouding your judgment," the smallest of the hooded figures countered.

"The stone must have been hidden in the snitch Dumbledore left the boy in his will. Why else would Dumbledore have left him the snitch and the mudblood girl the children's book with the mark of the Deathly Hallows? The Elder Wand was in Dumbledore's possession and he knew Potter owned the cloak. Anyone with half a brain could make the connection. Potter, as much as I hate to admit it, is not a complete dolt. He would have known the Forbidden Forest would be an appropriate place to hide the stone."

The hooded figures, impressed with Nott's confidence and ability to understand the mind of Harry Potter, agreed to accompany him from the Black Forest to the Forbidden Forest. Arriving three days earlier, they came upon a lone centaur, which they quickly captured and began torturing for information. The pleasure that spread throughout Nott every time he cast the Cruciatus Curse on the helpless creature was intoxicating. However, he knew he must be disciplined. His revenge on Harry Potter was his top priority and the centaur would soon be useless if he used the Unforgivable Curse anymore that evening. With a quick flick of his wand, the centaur's mouth was magically closed and Nott walked away, sitting around another smokeless fire with the three hood figures, who had been observing Nott's interrogation.

"So what do you intend to do?" asked the largest figure with a sneer. "Search the entire forest by hand?"

Nott, irritated, stared into the fire, contemplating his next move. The centaur had not been that useful, thus far, other than giving him a general idea of where the Dark Lord had waited for Potter. Still, Potter could have arrived at the site from a number of directions and who knows where he might have hidden the stone. Did he bury? Hide it in a tree? Or did he simply drop it on the ground? From what Nott had gathered about the hallows, the resurrection stone looked like an ordinary stone, except for the mark of the Deathly Hallows carved onto one side. Even if he knew the exact path Potter took through the Forbidden Forest, it would still take an excruciatingly long time to find the stone. Time he did not want to waste scouring the forest's floor. Perhaps it would be more prudent to focus on obtaining the Elder Wand and the Invisibility Cloak.

"I think it may be time to bring Potter into the search for us. If destroying a Muggle village won't draw him out of Hogwarts, maybe paying a visit to someone Potter is more familiar with will catch his attention. The stone can wait. Once I – I mean we – have the Elder Wand, we can focus on getting the stone and the cloak."

The three hood-figures turned to Nott and nodded in agreement, eager to spread some chaos and smell death in the air once again. Nott's single-handed decimation of the Muggle village had convinced them he could take Harry Potter in a duel. The depth of Nott's hatred for Potter gave him an extraordinary magical power unlike anything the three figures had ever seen but had heard. An ancient legend, passed down through families who were deeply seeped in the Dark Arts, spoke of a young dark wizard who would be orphaned by a wizard of the light. The hatred of the wizard of the light would unleash a dark magic within the orphaned wizard. A dark magic so powerful that no wizard, light or dark, would be able to defeat him. Once the orphaned wizard taps into this magic, he would kill the wizard of the light and go on to take control of the wizarding and Muggle world. It appeared that Nott fit the profile of this legendary wizard. They would find out soon enough.