Chapter 8

The Death Trail

KIARA

"Don't tell your mother - or your aunt - that you've been gambling," Mr Dawson implored Tanya and Geri, as we made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Uncle Matt," said Tanya gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money, we don't want it confiscated."

Mr Dawson looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

He was made even more unsettled by Sian's words: "Yeah, Dad, you don't need to worry about them. Me telling Ma, on the other hand, that's what you need to worry about." He froze for a moment and his eyes shot up, as Sian threw him a little wink over her shoulder, before she moved on, a small, amused smile on her face. Mr Dawson just shook his head, annoyance clearly evident.

We were soon caught up in the crowds flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne towards us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When we had finally reached the tents, none of us felt like sleeping at all and, given the level of noise around us, Mr Dawson agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa before turning in. We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr Dawson got into a disagreement with Kat, and it was only when Merida fell asleep right at the table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr Dawson called a halt to the verbal replays, and insisted that we all went to bed. Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave and Mr Dawson went to the boys' tent, as Sam, Kat, Perdy, Tanya and Geri went to the other girls' tent, and when they were gone, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida and I changed into our pyjamas and clambered into our bunks. From the other side of the campsite, we still heard much singing, and the odd, echoing bang.

"Oh, I am glad I'm not on duty," muttered Mr Dawson, as he left our tent once more, after he had come in to check on us. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

It was a truly remarkable night, but as we all know, all good things must come to an end sooner or later, and sometimes they don't always end the way we want them to ...

As I recall, Chrissie and I shared a bunk, and as I was lying on the top bunk above Chrissie, I remember that I was staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Outsider's most spectacular moves. I was itching to try out the Wronski Feint ... somehow Olivia Cane had never managed to convey with all her wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like ... I remember that I saw myself in robes that had my name on the back, and I imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Lynn Baxter's voice echoed throughout the stadium, "I give you ... Pride-Lander!"

To this day I still don't know whether I had actually dropped off to sleep or not - my fantasies of flying might well have slipped into actual dreams - all I knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr Dawson was back and he was shouting frantically.

"Get up! Chrissie - Kiara - come on, now, get up, this is urgent!"

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit the canvas.

"'S matter?" I mumbled in my post-sleep state.

Dimly, I could tell that something was wrong, for the noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I heard screams, and the sound of people running.

I slipped down from the bunk and reached for my clothes, but Mr Dawson, who was fully dressed, said, "No time, Kiara - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

I did as I was told, and hurried out of the tent, with Sian and Chrissie at my heels.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I saw people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field towards us, something that emitted odd flashes of light, and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells drifted towards us; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of witches, tightly packed and moving together with their wands pointing straight upwards, were marching slowly across the field. I squinted at them ... they didn't seem to have faces ... but then I realised that their heads were hooded and their faces were masked. High above them, floating along in mid-air, were four struggling figures that were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked witches on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes that were being operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small.

More witches 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 I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of the way with her wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent, and I recognised one of them - Mrs Pawn, the campsite manageress. The other three looked as though they were her husband and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs Pawn upside-down with her wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers; she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Chrissie muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping from side to side. "That is really sick ..."

Tanya, Geri, Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave came hurrying towards us, pulling coats over their pyjamas, with Mr Dawson right behind them. At the same moment, Sam, Kat and Perdy emerged from the other girls' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry," Mr Dawson shouted over all the noise, as he rolled up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods and stick together! I'll come and get you when we've sorted this out!"

Sam, Kat and Perdy were already sprinting away towards the oncoming marchers; Mr Dawson touched Sian's cheek, waiting for her to look at him, before he kissed her head gently and squeezed her cheek softly, until he tore himself away reluctantly, for I saw him, just before he went after Sam, Kat and Perdy, slowly drop his hand from her face. Anyhoo, after this had transpired between Mr Dawson and his eldest child, he went after Sam, Kat and Perdy, as I've already stated. Ministry witches and wizards were dashing from every direction towards the source of trouble. The crowd beneath the Pawn family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Tanya, as she grabbed Merida's hand and pulled her towards the wood, with the rest of us following close behind. We all looked back as we reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Pawn family was larger than ever; we saw the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they had great difficulty in doing so. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Pawn family fall.

The coloured lanterns that had lit the pitch to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices reverberated around us in the cold night air. I felt myself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces I could not see. I then heard Chrissie yell in pain.

""What happened?" said Chris, as he, Sian and I stopped moving and looked back to try and see Chrissie, dark as it was.

"Chrissie?" Sian called anxiously, the protective, mother-side of her taking over. "Chrissie, where are you? Oh, this is stupid - Lumos!"

Chris repeated this spell, and the two of them pointed their wands across the path, and as the two narrow beams of light illuminated everything around us, we saw Chrissie lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a tree root," said Chrissie, as she got to her feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, I'd imagine it'd be hard not to trip over anything," said a drawling voice behind us, as a second voice cackled in agreement.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I turned sharply. Dani Malty, and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley, were stood alone near us, leaning against a tree, both looking utterly relaxed. Their arms were folded, and they seemed to have been watching the scene on the campsite through a gap in the trees - although I did notice something different about them. Dani looked like she wanted to be there and was enjoying the show, but with Rae-Bradley ... her lips were formed into a smile, but there was something in her eyes that made me think she was uncomfortable with what was going on around her. It almost seemed to me like she didn't want to be there ...

Anyhoo, Chrissie then told Malty and Rae-Bradley something that I was certain would never have been spoken in front of Mr Dawson and Crighton; and I was proven right, for as soon as she said it, Sian thwacked Chrissie on the arm, and warned her that if she wasn't careful with her tongue in the future, that she would make Chrissie wash her mouth out with soap (this image has remained with Chrissie to this day, just so you know). And Sian wasn't the only one who warned Chrissie about her tongue.

"Language, Dawson," said Malty, her pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now? "You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

She nodded at Sian, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sian defiantly.

"Dawson, they're after Bright-Brains, as well sa Muggle-borns and Muggles, you know," spoke up Rae-Bradley for the first time, in her usual soft and cheerful voice (which, now that I think about it, didn't sound that cheerful). "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around ... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh." As she said this, I saw her smile falter a little and she seemed to be apologising through her eyes.

"Sian's a witch, and a trustworthy one at that," I snarled.

"Have it your way, Pride-Lander," said Malty, grinning broadly, as Rae-Bradley looked on coolly (well, she tried to, anyway)."If you think they can't spot a Sackbrain, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Chris. Everybody present knew that "Sackbrain" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard with high intelligence.

"Never mind, you two," said Sian quickly, and she held out her arms to stop Chris and Chrissie, who took quick steps towards Malty and Rae-Bradley.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard so far. Several people nearby screamed.

Malty chuckled softly. "Scare easily, don't they?" she said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide, did he, Dawson? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" I said, trying desperately to keep my temper under control. "Out there wearing the masks, are they?"

Malty and Rae-Bradley both turned their faces to me, still smiling, although one smiled more gleefully than the other. "Well, if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Pride-Lander?"

"Oh, come on," said Sian, with a disgusted look at Malty and Rae-Bradley. "Let's go and find the others."

"Keep that long hair down, Dawson," said Rae-Bradley (somewhat kindly).

"Come on," Sian repeated, as she pushed, Chris, Chrissie and I in front of her up the path again, in order to get us moving.

"I'll bet you anything Malty's mum is one of the masked lot!" said Chrissie hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch her!" said Sian fervently. "Oh, I don't believe this, where have the others got to?"

Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, and all of them were looking nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.

A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas were arguing vociferously a little along the path. When they saw Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, a boy with thick, dark hair turned and said quickly, "Ou est Monsieur Legrand? Nous l'avons perdue - "

"Er - what?" said Chris.

"Oh ..." the boy who had spoken turned his back on him, and as we walked on we distinctly heard him say, "Dragon Mor'."

"Beauxbatons," muttered Sian.

"Huh?" I said brilliantly.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Sian. "You know ... Beauxbatons Academy of Magic ... I read about it in Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."

"Oh ... yeah ... right ..." I said.

"Tanya and Geri can't've gone too far," said Chrissie, holding his wand up again as Chrissie drew out her wand and lit it, just as Chris and Sian had done, and the three of them squinted up the path. I dug in the pockets of my jacket for my own wand - but it wasn't there. The only things I had with me at that point were my Omnioculars.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it ... I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding?"

Chris, Sian and Chrissie raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light further on the ground; I looked all around me, but my wand was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," said Chrissie.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Sian suggested anxiously.

"Maybe one of the others picked it up accidentally in all the kerfuffle," suggested Chris.

"Yeah," I said, "maybe."

I usually kept my wand with me at all times in the wizarding world, and finding myself without it in the midst of a scene like that one made me feel very vulnerable.

A rustling noise then made the four of us jump. Blinky the house-elf was fighting his way out of a clump of bushes nearby. He was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was holding him back.

"There is bad wizards about!" he squeaked distractedly, as he leant forwards and laboured to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Blinky is getting out of the way!"

And he disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as he fought the force that restrained him.

"What's up with him?" said Chrissie, who looked curiously after Blinky. "Why can't he run properly?"

"Because he didn't ask permission to hide," I said (which is what I naturally jumped to. There was a reason for it, but we'll get to that later). I thought of Dokey; every time she had tried to do something the Malty's wouldn't like, she had been forced to start beating herself up.

"You know, house-elves still get a very raw deal!" said Sian indignantly (she was, of course, referring to the work that Hermione Weasley's doing at the Ministry). "It's slavery, there's no other word for it! That Mrs Clutch made him go up to the top of the stadium, and he was terrified, and she's got him bewitched so he can't even run away when they start trampling tents! Why aren't there more people out there doing their best to help the poor creatures?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Chrissie said. "You heard old Blinky back at the match ... "House-elves is not supposed to have fun" ... that's what he likes, being bossed around ..."

"Well, I agree with you to an extent, Chrissie," Sian said. "If those house-elves are happy where they are, with or without pay, then that's fine. I'll leave them be. But those house-elves who are mistreated, who do not have a voice and need help to find a new placement, then those are the house-elves who need our help the most."

As Sian finished this fantastic little speech, another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Chris, and I saw him and Chrissie both glance edgily at Sian. Perhaps there was truth in what Malty and Rae-Bradley had said; perhaps Sian was in more danger than we were. The four of us set off again, and I still searched my pockets, even though I knew my wand wasn't there.

We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping our eyes open for any signs of Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave. We passed a group of fauns, who cackled over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and they seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble on the campsite. Further still along the path, we walked into a patch of golden light, and when we looked into the trees, we saw three tall and handsome Coltees standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young witches, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year," one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not," said her friend, "you're a dish-washer at the Witching Service ... but I'm a Vampire Hunter, I've killed about ninety so far - "

I snorted with laughter at this, as Chrissie, whose face had gone oddly slack, yelled, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Venus?"

"Honestly!" said Sian, as she, Chris and I grabbed Chrissie firmly by the arms, wheeled her around and marched her away. By the time the sounds of the Coltees and their admirers had faded completely, we were in the very heart of the wood. We seemed to be alone, for everything seemed to be much quieter.

I looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

The words were hardly out of my mouth, when Lynn Baxter emerged from behind a tree right ahead of us.

Even by the feeble light of the thin wands, I saw that a great change had come over Baxter. She no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced, and there was no spring in her step. She looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" she said, blinking and trying to make out our faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

We looked at each other, surprised.

"Well, there's a sort of riot going on," said Chris.

Baxter stared at him. "What?"

"On the campsite ... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles ..."

Baxter swore loudly. "Damn them!" she said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, she Disapparated with a small pop.

"Not exactly on top of things Miss Baxter, is she?" said Sian, frowning.

"She was a great Beater, though," said Chrissie, who led the way off the path into a small clearing, and sat down on a patch of grass at the foot of a tree. "Lancashire won the League three times in a row when she was with them."

She took her small figure of Outsider out of her pocket, set it down on the ground and watched it walk around for a while. Like the real Outsider (as I would discover later on), the model had a light, sturdy-footed step, and he also had a rather strong chest; just as impressive on the ground as he was in the air. I was listening out for noise on the campsite. Everything still seemed quiet; I couldn't help but wonder if the riot was over.

"I hope the others are OK," said Sian after a while. We knew that she was talking about her sibling in particular.

"They'll be fine," said Chrissie.

"Imagine if your dad catches Narissa Malty," I said, sitting down next to Chrissie and watched the small figure of Outsider strutting over the fallen leaves. "He always said he'd like to get something on her."

"That's wipe the smiles off of Dani and Keziah's faces, all right," said Chris.

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Sian. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just - "

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Chris, Chrissie and I looked quickly around, too. It sounded as though someone was staggering towards our clearing as we waited, listening carefully to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But then the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" I called.

There was silence. I got to my feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark for me to see very far, but I sensed that somebody was stood just beyond my line of vision.

"Who's there?" I said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"DOODROETE!"

And something vast, red and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness that my eyes had been struggling to penetrate: it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the - ?" Chrissie gasped, as she sprang to her feet again, gazing up at the thing that had just appeared.

For a split second, I thought that it was another leprechaun formation. Then I realised that it looked like a long, red, glittering snake, which curled at the head and tail of the thing, with other, small snakes emerging out of its body, both back and front, and top and bottom (a bit like wavy spines), that looked like it was completely composed of scarlet stars. As we watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of red smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. Suddenly, the wood all around us erupted with screams. I didn't understand why at the time, but the only possible explanation was the sudden appearance of the snake-thing, which had risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood, like some grisly, neon sign. I scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the snake-thing, but I couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" I called again.

"Kiara, come on, move!" Sian had seized the back of my jacket, and was tugging me backwards.

"What's the matter?" I said, shocked to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Death Trail, Kiara!" Sian moaned, pulling me as hard as she could. "She-You-Know's sign!"

"Zira's - ?"

"Kiara, come on!"

I turned - Chrissie had scooped up her miniature Outsider as Chris came to my side - the four of us started across the clearing - but before we had taken more than a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, who appeared from thin air, surrounding us.

I whirled around, and in a split second, I registered one fact: each one of those wizards had their wands out, and every one of them was pointed right at myself, Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Without pausing to think, I yelled, "DUCK!" I seized the other three and pulled them down onto the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and I felt the hair on my head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising my head a fraction of an inch, I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards' wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks, rebounding in the darkness -

"Stop!" yelled a voice I recognised. "STOP! Those are my son and daughters!"

My hair then stopped blowing about. I raised my head a little higher. The wizard in front of me had lowered his wand. I rolled over and saw Mr Dawson striding quickly towards us, looking terrified.

"Chris - Sian - " his voice sounded shaky, " - Chrissie - Kiara - are you all right?"

"We are now, Dad," said Sian in an even shakier tone, as her father helped her to her feet and they embraced, breathing sighs of relief as they did so.

"Out of the way, Matthew," said a cold, curt voice, which broke the warm embrace between Sian and Mr Dawson.

It was Mrs Clutch who had thus spoken. She and the other Ministry wizards closed in on us. I got to my feet to face them. Mrs Clutch's face was contorted with rage.

"Which of you did it?" she snapped, her sharp eyes darting between us. "Which of you conjured the Death Trail?"

"We didn't do that!" I said, gesturing at the snake-thing.

"We didn't do anything!" said Chris, who rubbed his elbow and was looking indignantly at his father. "What did you attack us for?"

Do not lie, sir!" said Mrs Clutch. Her wand was still pointed directly at Chrissie, and her eyes were popping - she looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Beatrice," whispered a wizard in a long woollen dressing-gown, "they're kids, Beatrice, they'd never have been able to - "

"Where did the Trail come from, you four?" said Mr Dawson quickly.

"Over there," said Sian, trying to sound like her usual strong, composed self, as I heard a slight tremor in her voice as she said this. After she spoke, she pointed to the place where we had heard the voice, and continued, "There was someone behind the trees ... they shouted words - an incantation - "

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mrs Clutch, who turned her popping eyes on Sian, disbelief etched all over her face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Trail is summoned, missy - "

But none of the other Ministry wizards apart from Mrs Clutch seemed to think it likely that Chris, Sian, Chrissie or myself had conjured the snake-thing; on the contrary, at Sian's words, they raised all their wands again, and pointed them in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the wizard in the woollen dressing-gown, shaking his head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a witch with dark brown hair. It was Alesha Diggs, Georgia's mother. "Our Stunners went right through those trees ... there's a good chance we got them ..."

"Alesha, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly, as Mrs Diggs squared her shoulders, raised her head , marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. Sian watched her vanish, with anxiety etched clearly in her eyes. Mr Dawson wrapped his arm around her.

A few seconds later, we heard Mrs Diggs shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - oh my ..."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mrs Clutch, who sounded highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mrs Diggs re-emerged from behind the trees. She carried a tiny, limp figure in her arms. I recognised the hand-towel at once. It was Blinky.

Mrs Clutch did not move or speak as Mrs Diggs deposited Mrs Clutch's elf on the ground at her feet. The other Ministry wizards all stared at Mrs Clutch. For a few seconds, Clutch remained transfixed, her eyes blazing in her white face as she stared down at Blinky. Then she appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," she said jerkily. "No - "

She moved quickly around Mrs Diggs and strode off towards the place where she had found Blinky.

"No point, Mrs Clutch," Mrs Diggs called after her. "There's no one else there."

But Mrs Clutch did not seem prepared to take her word for it. We heard her moving around, the rustling of leaves as she pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mrs Diggs said grimly, looking down at Blinky's unconscious form. "Beatrice Clutch's house-elf ... I mean to say ..."

"Come off it, Alesha," said Mr Dawson quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Death Trail's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mrs Diggs, "and he had a wand."

"What?" said Mr Dawson.

"Here, look." Mrs Diggs held up a wand and showed it to Mr Dawson. "Had it in his 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 Lynn Baxter Apparated right next to Mr Dawson. Looking breathless and disoriented, she spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the scarlet red snake-thing.

"The Death Trail!" she panted, almost trampling Blinky as she turned enquiringly to her colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Beatrice! What's going on?"

Mrs Clutch had returned empty-handed. Her face was still ghostly-white, and her hands and left eye was twitching.

"Where have you been, Beatrice?" said Baxter. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too - Gulping gargoyles!" Baxter had just noticed Blinky lying at her feet. "What happened to him?"

"I have been busy, Lynn," said Mrs Clutch, who still talked in the same jerky fashion and was barely moving her lips. "And my elf has been Stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why - ?"

Comprehension suddenly dawned on Baxter's round, shiny face; she looked up at the snake-thing, down at Blinky and then up at Mrs Clutch.

"No!" she said. "Blinky? Conjure the Death Trail? He wouldn't know how! He'd need a wand for a start!"

"And he had one," said Mrs Diggs. "I found him holding one, Lynn. If it's all right with you, Mrs Clutch, I think we should hear what he's got to say for himself."

Clutch gave no sign that she had heard Mrs Diggs, but Mrs Diggs seemed to take her silence for assent. She raised her wand, pointed it at Blinky and said, "Ennervate!"

Blinky stirred feebly. His great brown eyes opened and he blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards surrounding him (myself and my friends included) as he raised himself shakily into a sitting position. He caught sight of Mrs Diggs' feet, and slowly, tremulously, he raised his eyes to stare up into her face; then, more slowly still, he looked up into the sky. I can still see how the floating snake-thing that was reflected twice in his enormous, terrified, glassy eyes. He gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mrs Diggs sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Blinky began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, his breath coming in sharp bursts. I was reminded forcibly of Dokey in her moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Death Trail was conjured here a short while ago," said Mrs Diggs. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, with you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, ma'am!" Blinky gasped. "I is not knowing how, ma'am!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mrs Diggs, who brandished it in front of him. And as the wand caught the red light that filled the clearing from the snake-thing above, I recognised it.

"Hey - that's mine!" I said.

Everyone in the clearing looked at me.

"Excuse me?" said Mrs Diggs incredulously.

"That's my wand!" I said. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" said Mrs Diggs in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Trail?"

"Alesha, think who you're talking to!" said Mr Dawson, very angrily. "Is Kiara Pride-Lander likely to conjured the Death Trail?"

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mrs Diggs. "Sorry ... carried away ..."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," I said, jerking my thumb towards the tree beneath the snake-thing. "I lost it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mrs Diggs, her eyes hardening as she turned to look at Blinky again, who was cowering at her feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, ma'am!" squealed Blinky, as tears streamed down the sides of his squashed and bulbous nose. "I is ... I is ... I is just picking it up, ma'am. I is not making the Death Trail, ma'am, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't him!" said Sian. Her hands shook slightly as she spoke in front of all the Ministry officials, but she held her head up high, determined to get her point across. "Blinky's got a squeaky, croaky voice (strange as it seems), and the voice we heard doing the incantation was more deeper!" She looked round at Chris, Chrissie and I, appealing for our support. "It didn't sound anything like Blinky, did it?"

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

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

"It sounded much firmer and confident when casting the incantation, too," Chris added.

"Well, we'll soon see," said Mrs Diggs, who looked unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Blinky trembled and shook his head frantically, his ears flapping, as Mrs Diggs raised her own wand again and placed it tip to tip with mine.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mrs Diggs.

I heard Sian gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpentine-thing Trail emerged from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the scarlet snake high above us, which looked as though it was made of grey smoke: the ghost of its last spell.

"Deletrius!" Mrs Diggs shouted, and the smoky snake-thing vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mrs Diggs, with a savage kind of triumph, looking down upon Blinky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" he squealed, his 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!" Mrs Diggs roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Alesha," said Mr Dawson loudly, "think about it ... precious few wizards know how to do that spell ... where would he have learnt it?"

"Perhaps Alesha is suggesting," said Mrs Clutch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Death Trail!"

There was a deeply unpleasant surprise at this cold statement.

Alesha Diggs looked horrified. "Mrs Clutch ... not ... not at all ..."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Trail!" barked Mrs Clutch. "Kiara Pride-Lander - and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the girl's story, Alesha?"

"Of course - everyone know - muttered Mrs Diggs, who looked highly discomfited.

"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?" Mrs Clutch shouted, her eyes bulging again.

"Mrs Clutch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" muttered Alesha Diggs, rosy cheeks steadily turning red.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggs!" shouted Mrs Clutch. "Where else would he have learnt to conjure it?"

"He - he might have picked it up anywhere - "

"Precisely, Alesha," said Mr Dawson. "He might have picked it up anywhere ... Blinky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but he flinched as though Mr Dawson, too, was shouting at him. "Where exactly did you find the wand?"

Blinky twisted the hem of his hand-towel so violently that it frayed beneath his fingers.

"I-I is finding it ... finding it there, sir ..." he whispered, "there ... in the trees, sir ..."

"You see, Alesha?" said Mr Dawson. "Whoever conjured the Trail could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Kiara's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Blink here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and picked it up."

"But then he would have been feet away from the real culprit!" said Mrs Diggs impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone!"

Blinky began to tremble worse than ever. His giant eyes flickered from Mrs Diggs to Lynn Baxter, and then on to Mrs Clutch.

Then he gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, ma'am ... no one ..."

"Alesha," said Mrs Clutch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Blinky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with him."

Mrs Diggs looked as though she didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but I remember that it was made perfectly clear to me that Mrs Clutch was such an important member of the Ministry that Mrs Diggs didn't dare say anything against Mrs Clutch.

"You may rest assured that he will be punished," Mrs Clutch added coldly.

"M-m-mistress ..." Blinky stammered, looking up at Mrs Clutch, his eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-mistress, p-p-please ..."

Mrs Clutch stared back, her face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in her gaze. "Blinky has behaved tonight in a manner that I would not have believed possible," she said slowly. "I told him to remain in the tent. I told him to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that he has disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Blinky, prostrating himself at Mrs Clutch's feet. "No, Mistress! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Of course, I already knew that the only way to set a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was truly pitiful for me to see the way Blinky clutched at the hand-towel as he sobbed over Mrs Clutch's feet. If I could have done anything back then, I would have done anything in my power to make sure that Blinky stayed with Mrs Clutch, but of course, there was nothing to be done.

"But he was frightened!" Sian burst out angrily, glaring at Mrs Clutch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those witches in the masks were levitating people! You can't blame him for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mrs Clutch took a step backwards, freeing herself from contact with the elf, whom she was surveying as though he was something filthy and rotten that was contaminating her over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," she said coldly, looking up at Sian. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to his mistress, and his mistress' reputation."

Blinky cried so hard that his sobs echoed around the clearing.

There was a very hasty silence whish was ended by Mr Dawson, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Alesha, that wand's told us all it can - if Kiara could have it back please - "

Mrs Diggs handed me my wand, which I pocketed.

"Come on, you four," Mr Dawson said quietly. But Sian didn't want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Sian!" Mr Dawson said, more urgently. But when she didn't respond, Mr Dawson decided to take matters into his own hands, and with his arm still around her, he led her away, with Chris, Chrissie and I following them. Sian kept her eyes on Blinky until she could see him no more.

"What's going to happen to Blinky?" said Sian, the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr Dawson.

"The way they were treating him!" said Sian furiously. "Mrs Diggs, calling him "elf" all the time ... and Mrs Clutch! She knows he didn't do it and she's still going to sack him! She didn't care how frightened he'd been, or how upset he was - it was like he wasn't even human!"

"Well, he's not," said Chrissie.

Sian rounded on her. "That doesn't mean he hasn't got feelings, Chrissie. He's a living being, with a heart and soul, just like you and me. Honestly, it's disgusting the way - "

"Sian, love, I agree with you," said Mr Dawson, tightening his grip on her arm, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Chris. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that snake thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr Dawson tensely.

But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded.

A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards were congregated there, and when they saw Mr Dawson coming towards them, many of them surged forwards. "What's going on in there?" "Who conjured it?" "Matthew - it's not - her?"

"Of course it's not her," said Mr Dawson impatiently. "We don't know who it was, for it looks like whoever conjured it Disapparated. Now, excuse me, please, for I want to get to bed."

One arm still wrapped around Sian, they led Chris, Chrissie and I through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of masked witches, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Kat's head poked out of the first girls' tent.

"Uncle Matt, what's going on?" she called through the dark. "Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave got back OK, but the others - "

"I've got them here," said Mr Dawson, as he let go of Sian, bent down and entered the tent. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I followed him in.

Sam sat at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to her arm, which bled profusely. Kat had a large rip in her shirt, and Perdy sported a bloody nose. Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave looked unhurt, but shaken. And speaking of Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave ...

When those seven saw Sian, they all swarmed around her, and from the way they were asking Sian for comfort and the way they were looking at her, I thought that it kind of looked like a small, family portrait, where after something terrible happened, the babies all gathered around the mother for strength, warmth, support and stability, which was true; I saw Sian looking at them, touching them all gently and comforting them with words that were soft, yet firm. It didn't take too long for Sian to calm her siblings down, for as soon as they were calm, the group dispersed, and grabbed seats wherever they could find them. It was only then that Sam decided to raise her voice.

"Did you get them, Uncle Matt?" she said sharply. "The person who conjured the Trail?"

"No," said Mr Dawson. "We found Beatrice Clutch's elf holding Kiara's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Trail."

"What?" said Sam, Kat and Perdy together.

"Kiara's wand?" said Tanya.

"Mrs Clutch's elf?" said Perdy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from myself, Chris, Sian and Chrissie, Mr Dawson explained what had happened in the woods. When we had finished our story, Perdy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mrs Clutch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" she said. "Running away when she'd expressly told him not to ... embarrassing her in front of the whole Ministry ... how would that have looked, if he'd have been up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control - "

"He didn't do anything - he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Sian snapped at Perdy, who looked very taken aback. Sian had always got on fairly well with Perdy - better, indeed, than the rest of us there.

"Sian, a witch in Mrs Clutch's position can't afford to have a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Perdy pompously, recovering herself.

"He didn't run amok!" shouted Sian. "He just picked it off the ground!"

"Look, can someone please explain what that snake thing was?" said Chrissie impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone ... why'sit such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's She-You-Know's symbol, Chrissie," said Sian, before anyone else could answer. "Ma told me about it years ago."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr Dawson quietly. "Of course people panicked ... it was almost like seeing She-You-Know back again."

"I don't get it," said Chrissie, frowning. "I mean ... it's only a shape in the sky ..."

"Chrissie, She-You-Know and her followers sent the Death Trail into the air whenever they killed," said Mr Dawson. "The terror it inspired ... you have no idea, you're too young. "Just picture coming home, and finding the Death Trail hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside ..." Mr Dawson winced. "Everyone's worst fear ... the very worst ..."

As he finished this, Sian went over and touched his shoulder in comfort. He in turn touched his eldest child's hand and stroked the skin carefully with his thumb. All was silent for a few moments.

Then Sam, removing the sheet from her arm to check on her cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Love Destroyers away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Pawns before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Love Destroyers?" I said. "What are Love Destroyers?"

"It's what She-You-Know's supporters called themselves," said Sam. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Sam," said Mr Dawson. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly, as he continued to stroke Sian's hand for comfort.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Chris suddenly. "Dad, we met Dani Malty and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley in the woods, and they as good as told us that Narissa Malty was one of those nutters in the masks! And we all know that the Maltys were right in with She-You-Know!"

"But what were Zira's supporters - " I began. Everyone around me flinched - like most in the wizarding world, the Dawsons all avoided saying Zira's name, which would start changing in my fifth year (ironic that Susan Crighton, Mr Dawson's wife, says the name, isn't it). "Sorry," I said quickly. "What were She-You-Know's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what's the point?"

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

"The "demonstration" with the Muggles was also their way of trying to strike fear into the hearts of us who stand against the Dark forces, but it won't work with me, I'm telling you!" Sian added as an afterthought, her face set in a firm, grim look of determination. We all nodded and murmured assent of her words.

"But if they were the Love Destroyers, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Death Trail?" said Chrissie. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Chrissie," said Sam. "If they really were Love Destroyers, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when She-You-Know lost power, and they told all sorts of lies about her, forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see her come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with her when she lost her powers, and went back to their daily lives ... I don't reckon she'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So ... whoever conjured the Death Trail ..." said Sian slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Love Destroyers, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Sian," said Mr Dawson. "But I'll tell you this ... it was only the Love Destroyers who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Love Destroyer once, even if they're not now ... Listen, it's very late, and if you're mother - well, aunt, to some of you - hears what's happened, she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

But just then Sian's phone went off. She slowly disengaged her hand from her father's, took out her phone and checked who was calling. She then told her father that it was her mother on the other end. Mr Dawson groaned and asked for the phone. Sian gave it to him, and he strode outside to answer the call. From what I could gather, it was quite an unpleasant conversation that passed between them.

After the call had ended and we bid the boys and the Fangs goodnight once more (although, I don't know what was that good about it, to be honest), I got back into my bunk with my head buzzing. I knew I ought to have been feeling exhaustion, for if I remember rightly, it was after three in the morning, but I felt wide awake - wide awake with worry.

Three days before - it felt much longer to me back then, but it really had been three days - I had awoken with my scar burning in my grandmothers' cottage. And that night, for the first time in thirteen years, Lady Zira's Trail had appeared in the sky. I only had one question in my mind at that moment: what did these things mean?

I thought of the letter I had written to my parents before I left my grandmothers' cottage. I wondered whether or not my parents had got it yet, and if they had, then how long would it take before they replied? I lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to me to ease me to sleep that time; and it was long after Chrissie's snores filled the tent that my mind finally drifted off into unconsciousness.