They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, Nick, Leon and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, 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 Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."
"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron… but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far —"
A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."
Ron was also affected by the Veela, his face had gone oddly slack, and next second he was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"
"Honestly!" said Hermione, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away with Skylar shaking her head. By the time the sounds of the veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.
Harry 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 his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.
Even by the feeble light of the two wands, Harry could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.
"Who's that?" he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"
Skylar's eyes narrowed as the other three looked at one another, surprised.
"Well — there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron.
Bagman stared at him.
"What?"
"At the campsite… some people have got hold of a family of Muggles…"
Bagman swore loudly.
"Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop!
"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" said Hermione, frowning.
"He was a great Beater, though," said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."
"He's just heavily distracted." Skylar said.
"With what?"
"Debt." Skylar said. "Seems like Ludo Bagman owes a huge debt and it's trying to collect."
"Bagman?"
"Yep."
"Never would have picked it."
"What? Even though he was going around with pockets of coins and a gambler's book?" Skylar asked.
The three shared a look. Yes, that did seem to give it away a little.
Ron took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over.
"I hope the others are okay," said Hermione after a while.
"They'll be fine," said Ron.
"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," said Harry, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."
"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right," said Ron.
"Those poor Muggles, though," said Hermione nervously. "What if they can't get them down?"
"They will," said Ron reassuringly. "They'll find a way."
"There are so many Ministry officials and Aurors out there, I doubt the Death Eaters will last long." Skylar added.
"The what?" The three chorused.
"Death Eaters, that's what mum, dad and Mr. Weasley think they are. The Death Eaters are You-Know-Who's followers." Skylar confessed. "Not all of them are in Azkaban, remember."
"But, why?" Harry asked. "Voldemort's not even active, he's… wherever, weak and useless."
"Maybe some fire whisky and the fact that there were all the secrecy rules got them mad." Skylar offered as she sat down with the two boys.
"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Hermione. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think—" But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry, Skylar and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.
"Hello?" called Harry.
There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision.
"Who's there?" he said.
And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.
"MORSMORDRE!"
And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.
"What the —?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.
Skylar had gasped audibly and her hands clapped over her mouth. It was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.
Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. The skull had risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. Harry was the only one not worried about the sign as he scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull.
"Who's there?" he called again.
"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.
"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.
"We can't be caught here." Skylar said, pushing on Harry as well.
"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"
"Voldemort's — ?"
"Harry, come on!"
Harry turned — Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum — the four of them started across the clearing — but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.
Skylar gapped at them all as Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at the four of them.
Skylar grabbed Hermione and Ron and ducked down as Harry yelled, "DUCK!" He too seized Ron and Hermione and pulled them down onto the ground.
"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices — there was a blinding series of flashes that went and collided with one another right above their heads.
"Stop!" And it was Mr. Weasley's voice. "STOP! That's my son!"
"Skylar!" Skylar looked up at her mother's voice.
The stunning spells stopped as Dominique, Nathaniel and Mr. Weasley had appeared and were striding toward them, looking terrified.
Skylar moved for her mother who embraced her instantly.
"Are you alright?" She asked.
"Mum… mum we didn't do it, I swear! It wasn't us!" She begged.
"Ron — Harry" — Mr Weasley's voice sounded shaky — "Hermione — are you all right?"
"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. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.
"Crouch!" Nathaniel said strongly.
"Which of you did it?" Crouch snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"
"We didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.
"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"
"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping — he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"
"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to —"
"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" said Mr. Weasley quickly.
"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees… they shouted words — an incantation —"
"They said 'Morsmordre'." Skylar said.
"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy —"
But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Skylar, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.
"We're too late," said the witch in the woollen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."
"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees… There's a good chance we got them…"
"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth.
A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.
"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's — but — blimey…"
"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"
They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Harry recognised the tea towel at once. It was Winky.
Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.
"This — cannot — be," he said jerkily. "No —"
He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.
"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. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.
"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf… I mean to say…"
"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."
"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."
"What?" said Mr. Weasley.
"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "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 or use a wand."
Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.
"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"
Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching.
"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too — gulping gar-goyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"
"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."
"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why — ?"
Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.
"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"
"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's alright with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."
Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Rennervate!"
Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.
She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. The floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.