Harry Potter and the Illithid Inquisition

by Empirialtank

In the summer before beginning his third year Harry runs from his home to escape his relatives for an evening and cool his head. Unfortunately a passing Nautiliod SpellJammer briefly passes through the neighborhood looking for hosts to snatch. Now Harry's got a tadpole in his head. And while his magic can hold off his inevitable transformation into a mindflayer, it can't stop it.

15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Serpents in the Dark

Mrs Weasley awoke them all bright and early the next morning. They were all up before the sun had risen and none of them felt actually awake. Harry, Ron and the twins all dressed in silence and collected a few changes of clothes in case the World Cup match lasted more than a day, which it was known to do. Before long they made their way downstairs for a light breakfast.

Mr. Weasley had tried to dress like a muggle and the combination of jeans, and a sweater wasn't that bad, if it hadn't been the middle of the summer and he hadn't been wearing a massive belt that made it clear his pants were much too large for him. Harry debated whether to tell him this but decided it was too early for such a conversation. Hermione and Ginny soon joined them, and Mrs. Weasley served eggs, bacon and sausage.

"Are Bill and the others not coming down?" Ron asked.

"They can still sleep in a bit," Mrs. Weasley explained. "Since they will travel to the World Cup by apparition."

"How are we getting there?" Harry asked.

"We'll use a portkey." Mr. Weasley put in. "They're enchanted objects which will transport everyone who's touching them to a predetermined location when activated. The ministry has been setting them up all around the country and in several others to help all the wizards coming to the World Cup get there easily. There's over a hundred thousand wizards coming to the World Cup, we can't have all of them clogging up the muggle public transport system or flying about the place or even just apparating right to the Cup and ending up who knows where."

Harry wasn't certain the muggle public transport system would even notice an extra hundred thousand people using it given that millions of people already used it every day. Though maybe they would if all the wizards were dressed as oddly as Mr. Weasley was. Harry also figured that the World Cup must be held in a place that was fairly remote considering how large a quidditch pitch was and how large a stadium would have to be to house a hundred thousand wizards, so it was unlikely the public transport system even ran anywhere near such a place.

"How does a portkey activate?" Harry asked out of curiosity.

"It varies." Hermione pointed out to no one's surprise. "You have to decide how to activate them when you make them. Some are activated by touch, others by password or even by a certain kind of magic being cast around them."

"Ours is going off at a specific time." Mr. Weasley added. "And that time is fairly soon, we need to get going."

Everyone said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, who asked Harry and Hermione where they had put their acceptance letters, since she planned to go school shopping for them while they were away at the Cup. After that they left. They made their way across the little muggle town that the Weasleys lived on the outskirts of until they came to a large hill, whose top was shrouded in mist and fog.

With some effort they climbed to the top of the hill and then started fanning out to look for the portkey. Mr. Weasley said it would look like a discarded piece of rubbish, all portkeys were made to look that way so that muggles wouldn't notice them and accidentally pick them up. Harry searched long enough to wonder if perhaps the ministry's strategy had backfired and some person worried about the environment had decided to clean up the hill, when someone called out to them from the mist saying they had found the key.

The group converged on the voice and found two wizards standing near an old worn-out boot. One of them was a familiar young man, Cedric Diggory, the rising star seeker and team captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. The other was an older man that Mr. Weasley recognized as Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. The older men shook hands while Cedric smiled and nodded at his younger fellow students.

"Are these kids all yours, Arthur?" Amos asked.

"Just the red heads." Mr. Weasley confirmed. "The other two are friends of Ron's. This is Hermione Granger and the other is Harry Potter."

Mr. Diggory's eyes rose at the sound of Harry's name and Harry could tell he was trying to shift his gaze to catch a sight of Harry's scar. Harry was used to this sort of reaction by now and as usual it made him feel uncomfortable. It didn't help that he could feel Mr. Diggory's thoughts, that he felt like he had run into a storybook character.

"Harry Potter." Amos said a little breathlessly. "Our Ced has told us a lot about you of course. Especially about playing you in Quidditch last year. I told Ced that will be something to tell his grandchildren one day. That he beat Harry Potter."

Harry was stunned by such words and didn't know how to react. The twins glared at Mr. Diggory as they would at any person who boasted about someone beating their team. Cedric had the grace to look embarrassed by his father's words and protest that the match hadn't been fair. That it had been interrupted by dementors which was true. But Harry could see in Cedric's mind that he actually was a little proud of that win, and very happy that his father was proud of him.

Harry considered that and found that in a way, Cedric was right to feel proud of that win. It was the only time that Harry had ever failed to catch the snitch for his team. And although Harry had been knocked off his broom at the end by the dementors, Harry seemed to recall that Cedric was already a bit far ahead of him when that happened. Even if the dementors hadn't shown up, odds were good that Cedric would have caught it first.

And anyway, why shouldn't Cedric be proud of the one win his team had managed that year, regardless of the circumstances of that win? Hufflepuffs had a reputation of not standing out, and Cedric challenged that reputation in a lot of ways. He had whipped their quidditch team into shape. He often got top grades in his year, and he had the looks that could make any girl in school take notice of him. The man had a lot to be proud of because he had worked hard and earned it. Harry wouldn't begrudge him another just because it came slightly at his expense.

"It was a fair game." Harry said after Cedric tried to downplay his win. "It came down to the wire at the end. Cedric played very well, and I look forward to a chance to play him again this year, hopefully in much better weather."

Mr. Diggory smiled at Harry for showing what seemed to him a good attitude about the loss. Cedric looked relieved that Harry hadn't been offended and expressed his own hopes that they would have a good, honest, dementor-free match this year. Then the conversation moved on to who else might be joining them.

Harry was glad he hadn't gone on about his other thoughts about Cedric as a player. Really his talents were being wasted as a seeker. He could do the job well enough, but it made it difficult for him to take advantage of his best qualities as a leader.

The Hufflepuff team lacked talent but had good fundamentals. Their biggest weakness was reading the flow of the game and transitioning from offense to defense or dealing with those chaotic moments when a player had to do both at once. Cedric could read that flow though and so the team did best when he could guide them through the twisting, shifting changes of the game. But that was difficult to do as a seeker.

Seekers got tunnel vision during the game all too easily. Catching the snitch was so important it was easy to lose track of what was going on. A good seeker had to have a general idea of what was happening to know when to catch the snitch but that was all. But looking for the snitch would take up almost all of a seeker's attention. Cedric's need to both guide his team and catch the snitch divided his attention and made him weaker at doing either task. Plus, it left him exploitable.

During the Ravenclaw Hufflepuff match; Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, had done just that. She had launched herself into a series of faints and dives which left Cedric constantly paranoid that she had spotted the snitch and was about to win. This forced him to shadow her and allowed her to lure him away from wherever the action was in the match. That way Cedric wasn't able to lead his team and Ravenclaw was free to run the score up on them. It was bad luck that when Cedric finally resolved to ignore Cho and focus on helping his team, Cho had actually found the snitch and won the match. Slytherin had been even more direct in their efforts to isolate Cedric and had simply fouled him out.

Really Cedric would make a much better Chaser so he could stay near his team and keep them focused on the action. The best position for him would've been as a team coach, plotting strategy from the sidelines like in most muggle sports, but that wasn't a spot available in quidditch. But pointing this out would've made Harry seem childish, like he didn't want to play Cedric as a seeker again. So, Harry had kept his mouth shut.

Well, that was one reason he hadn't spoken up. The other had been Ron shooting him a mental glare at the thought of trying to make a rival team better at playing them. And the last was remembering what Ron had told him earlier, that people didn't appreciate unsolicited life advice. Hermione shot him a mentally odd look and some half-formed thoughts crossed her mind a bit too quickly for Harry to read them. Before either could broach the subject though it was time to go.

Mr. Diggory held up the old boot and everyone shifted about to lay a finger on some part of it. It was an awkward bit of work to do so with their clothes, tents and afternoon meals all strapped to their backs. Luckily the old boot sill had its laces which Ginny and Hermione were able to grab and then step back from. Then just enough time passed for Harry to realize how stupid they would all look to any early morning hiker that came up here before suddenly they were gone.

Harry felt like some invisible hook had latched in place under his belt and then yanked him away. There was a tremendous sensation of speed and inevitability while all around the world passed by in a series of streaking colors. Then suddenly it all came to an absolute halt. Harry felt like he should have stumbled, like his momentum should have carried him a half dozen steps on. But there was no momentum behind him, everything had absolutely stopped. Harry nearly tripped fighting against momentum that wasn't there and only barely managed to stay upright. He was the only one who did other than the adults and Cedric.

They were greeted by a pair of ministry wizards in a large open field. They handed over their boot portkey and were told to clear the area before the next group arrived. Mr. Weasley was pointed in the direction of their campground, and they headed off.

As they went, they passed increasingly larger crowds of wizards and witches. Most of them were dressed in a wizard's idea of what would pass for suitable muggle clothes. Frighteningly it seemed that most of them didn't even have what little sense Mr. Weasley had in that regard. Harry saw ponchos thrown over kilts. Thigh high yellow rain boots underneath trench coats. Suspenders holding up sweatpants. Polka dots mixed with pinstripes. Suit jackets and pajama bottoms. It would've been less conspicuous if everyone had just worn their wizard robes, then at least they might have passed off as a group of new age druids or something.

As they neared their campsite, Mr. Weasley sidled close to Harry to get a quick refresher on how muggle money worked. Harry hardly understood it, Wizard currency was divided by prime numbers, seventeen sickles to the galleon, twenty-nine knuts to a sickle. They had no problem doing the mental math to work all that out but the thought of counting by ones, fives, tens, and twenties confused them to no end. Harry suggested he just pay in one-pound notes to make it easy on himself and he agreed. With a fist full of money at hand they approached the man who owned the campsite.

"Mr. Roberts?" Mr. Weasley asked hesitantly as he approached the muggle. "I'm Mr. Weasley, I have two spots reserved."

Mr. Roberts affirmed the reservation and named his price, and if he thought anything was odd about Mr. Weasley paying in one-pound notes; he didn't say it. What he did say was almost as bad though.

"It's nice to have at least some normal people staying here." Mr. Roberts commented as he took his money. "The park's never been this busy and with all these strange foreign types too."

"Foreign? I don't think I've seen anyone really foreign." Mr. Weasley denied.

"How could you not have?" Mr. Roberts pressed. "I've seen people wearing bathrobes as they walk around out in the open. Or with button up shirts and short pants on. Why, one group even tried to pay me with these odd gold-colored discs. Imagine that? Trying to act like it's normal to pay for a camping spot with real gold!"

"Yes, gold money, how laughable." Mr. Weasley said awkwardly. He was saved from further conversation when there was a sudden cracking noise, and another ministry wizard popped into existence.

Harry realized what was about to happen as he caught sight of the thoughts forming in the man's mind. The ministry wizard planned on erasing the camp owner's memories to stop him from realizing that magic was real. A strong sense of revulsion arose in Harry, and he acted without thinking.

With his telekinetic and telepathic power, he reached out and formed a shield over the regions of Mr. Robert's brain that held his memories, while at the same time he formed a hand and grabbed hold of the motor centers of his brain and took control of his movements. The man panicked as he felt himself lose control of his body, then he felt raw terror as the ministry wizard cast a spell on him.

"Obliviate!" The wizard ordered as he cast the memory altering charm. There was a flash of light as magical energy coursed through Mr. Robert's mind. It scoured through him like blazing fire, hunting after threads of memory to burn up and remove, trying to turn the last two hours of this man's life into a blank void. But Harry's shield held it back so the magic couldn't touch any part of Mr. Robert's mind.

Luckily the spell gave no sign that it had failed. From what Harry knew of mind magic the spell couldn't fail unless it was blocked by a shield charm or hit with a counter jinx. If the wizard had tried to replace the man's memories with ones of his own creation, he would've been able to feel those memories flowing out of him and into Mr. Roberts, but he wasn't doing that, he was just erasing things. Harry had the muggle's face go slack and his eyes go unfocused to sell the idea that the spell had worked. The wizard nodded and turned to face and spoke with Mr. Weasley.

"What's going on? Why can't I move? What's happening to me?" Mr. Roberts thought with growing panic. Harry fed him calming thoughts and pulled the fear out of his mind to help him control his panic.

"They're trying to erase your memories." Harry spoke into the man's mind which made his fear grow a little bit more. "But you're safe right now. I've blocked his spell and tricked him into thinking you've forgotten."

"Sorry about that Arthur." The ministry wizard explained with a sigh of exhaustion. "This one's been giving us trouble all day. Here, take this map of the campground."

"Spells? Erase my what?" Mr. Roberts thought, confusion replacing his fear. "What's really going on? Who are you people? What are you?"

"We're wizards Mr. Roberts." Harry clarified. "There's a- well you might think of it as a magic football match going on not too far from here. So, a lot of wizards are staying in your campsites. Magic is supposed to be a secret so when they think you're getting too close to figuring things out they step in and change your memories."

"Are you alright Charles?" Mr. Weasley asked as he took the proffered map. "You look tired. Have the muggles been giving us trouble?"

"Trouble doesn't even begin to cover it." Charles said in exasperation. "Ten times a day I find myself over here for some stupid reason or another. People showing up in full wizard robes, children playing with magical toys out in the open. Vendors trying to sell world cup memorabilia. It's an absolute mess."

Mr. Roberts felt very skeptical about all of this. Harry wasn't really paying attention to that. He was looking over the man's mind in detail. He could see the psychic edges and rough spots left over from the magical scouring flame that had rolled through him time and time again. The magic had been rough and inelegant. It had burned away more than it needed to and damaged Mr. Robert's ability to form memories in the process, the man would be losing his keys and forgetting appointments with frightening regularity from now on.

With telepathy and empathy Harry began to smooth out those rough edges, reconnect severed nerves and rebuild what had been burned away. It was surprisingly easy; the brain was eager to return to its original shape. All Harry had to do was start rebuilding some bit of psychic damage and then the brain took over and then Harry would feed it power until it was done.

Stunned silence filled Mr. Robert's mind, as erased memories returned for him. He remembered agreeing to house this wizard gathering in exchange for a sizable sum of money, but he had thought he was just allowing some new age cult to set up for a weekend. He had no idea he had been dealing with people who could treat his brain like clay. He remembered coming close to figuring out what was going on a dozen times and he remembered wizards coming and obliviating him repeatedly. He remembered it all and he grew furious.

"And we're getting almost no help from the upper ranks." Charles continued his tirade. "Ludo Bagman has been walking about in Quidditch gear, talking to people and stopping at every campsite for tea doing nothing to help anyone. It's exhausting."

"They're changing my memories for the sake of a football match?!" Mr. Roberts said more than a little outraged. "And I wasn't even about to guess they were mages or sorcerers or whatever. I just thought they were a bunch of weirdos. I wasn't even judging them for it. I've had those neo pagan groups and want-to-be druids through here before. Nothing wrong with being a weirdo. What do they have to go mucking about with my mind for?"

"Secrecy is a big deal to them." Harry tried to placate the man. "They worry about what would happen if the world knew about them. They just want to be left alone. If you act like you're none the wiser they should leave you alone. And this shield should hold out against their efforts."

Mr. Weasley shook his head in commiseration with the ministry wizard and offered his condolences for all the trouble he was going through. By offering a sympathetic shoulder he gradually calmed the other man down. Eventually the two agreed that at least it would all be over soon, and the ministry wizard prepared to disapparate.

Mr. Roberts grumbled and complained inside his head, but gradually he calmed down. He had been paid well after all, and no harm no foul as the old saying went. Harry didn't tell him that the wizards had been harming his mind since there wasn't anything he could do about it. In the end Mr. Roberts decided he didn't like it and would never have anything to do with wizards ever again, but he may as well keep his head down and finish getting paid since it was unlikely he could run hundreds of wizards out of his campsite.

"Which one of you is the one helping me?" Mr. Roberts asked. Harry turned Mr. Robert's eyes towards himself as answer, then he released his control over the man's body since it was clear that he wasn't going to do anything stupid like try and punch the ministry wizard. "Why?" He demanded to know.

"I don't think it's right." Harry answered simply. Mr. Roberts nodded subtly and then mentally spoke again.

"I think the misses has had her mind done over as well. I would appreciate it if you would clear up her head as well and shield it too." The man asked. Harry agreed though noted he would have to come back for her since Mr. Weasley was about ready to head on to the campsite. Mr. Roberts also provided Harry with a mental map to the other surrounding campsites and the other site owners who doubtlessly were undergoing the same mental abuse that Mr. Roberts was.

After the ministry wizard vanished with a pop the Weasley group departed and made their way into the campground. Mr. Roberts watched them go for a moment before looking around with a much more critical eye and saw how obvious it was that something strange was going on. Then he remembered that paying too much attention would only draw attention to himself. So, he put his head down and made his way inside. The last thought Harry picked up from him was:

"The least they could've done was wait until everything was over and erase my memory then." He complained. "Would it have been so bad if I had known about magic for just a week or so? Then maybe they could have the decency to invite me to this magic football match of theirs. But no, apparently wizards don't need to be decent or polite when they can just wave a wand and mess with a man's mind."

"Are you sure that was wise, Harry?" Ron mentally asked as they made their way to their lot. Both he and Hermione had known what Harry was doing but neither had acted to stop him. "He's a muggle, they're not supposed to know about magic."

"I don't see what the problem is." Hermione mentally spoke up in Harry's defense. "What's the harm in a few camp owners knowing about magic? Or really any muggle knowing about magic. There must already be hundreds of normal people who know about magic with all the relatives of first-generation wizards running around and they don't cause any fuss."

"If the statute of secrecy was broken, we'd never get a moment of peace." Ron insisted. "Muggles would be asking us for magical solutions to their problems all the time."

"My parents are muggles and they never ask me for any magical help." Hermione pointed out. "Neither would Harry's relatives. Most muggles would be too freaked out by magic being weird to think of asking for help. Besides if too many people wanted magical help all wizards have to do is demand outrageous prices for their help. So long as they ask for more money than the non-magical solution costs people would keep solving their problems the old-fashioned way."

Harry squirreled that thought away for later. The statute of secrecy bugged him in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. It might have something to do with his relatives. If the world knew about magic, then no one would have thought it was weird to have a wizard nephew and there went half the reasons the Dursleys had ever claimed they mistreated him over. Plus, it might have helped Aunt Petunia adjust to having a magical sibling better, if there had been a way for her to connect with other normal children in a magic family. But that was a thought for another time.

Instead, Harry called to mind his last memories of their second-year defense against the dark arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. The man had made a career with the memory charm. Literally. He had hunted down dozens of famous wizards who had done amazing things and saved people's lives. Under the pretext of writing a book about them he had learned everything there was to know about their adventures, then he erased their memories of their own accomplishments and stole their glory by claiming he was the one to do all those amazing things.

His scheme had been successful enough to pull the wool over Dumbledore's eyes and get the defense job. But he had the misfortune of teaching the same year the school was besieged by a giant monstrous snake. When the other professors had forced Gilderoy to go hunting for it he had made plans to escape. When Ron and Harry uncovered his deception and forced him to go with them to rescue Ron's sister, he had tried to erase their memories and leave an innocent girl to certain death. Luckily, he had tried to erase their memories with Ron's wand which had been broken at that time, which made the spell explode in his face.

Consequently, Gilderoy had erased his own memories. As far as Harry knew he still hadn't recovered from that mishap, certainly he had never heard anything else about the man after that. The man he had been was now gone forever, more than likely, Harry didn't know if it was magically possible to restore memories or not.

Harry felt no sympathy for the man though, despite his terrible situation. Had he succeeded in casting that spell, Harry and Ron would've been left wandering around the school in a befuddled state while Ginny was slowly being killed and Tom Riddle's soul was gaining power. Without any concern for others Gilderoy Lockhart had been trying to commit murder that day, just because he was worried about how things might affect his reputation.

That alone was enough to put Harry's back up on the subject of memory alteration, but there was more to it than just that. Memory alteration in Harry's mind was just another kind of mind control. A means of magically compelling someone to act in the way the wizard wanted to rather than how they would act naturally. And Harry wanted nothing to do with mind control of any kind.

Even now he felt dirty and unclean for holding that poor man's body paralyzed while he protected him from the mind erasing magic. He couldn't have let the man panic and lash out against the ministry wizard though, that would've ended very badly. But even in the name of helping someone there were lines that Harry would not cross or allow to occur in front of him.

Harry could've forced his will on Mr. Roberts' mind in addition to his body, but Harry had deliberately left Mr. Roberts free to think whatever he wanted while Harry held him. Had he resorted to mind control Harry could've compelled the man to act exactly as he wanted, could've kept his head down for the rest of the world cup. Then he could've guarded Mr. Roberts memories and maintained the statute of secrecy. Instead, Harry had chosen to reason with him and convince him of what was right.

It was a risk. If Mr. Roberts got himself caught later the ministry might find out his mind was now protected from their magic and then they might force the man to tell them about what Harry had done. Harry would then be in trouble for breaking the statute and the unspeakables might get an idea that Harry wasn't fully human and had abilities that a normal wizard shouldn't. But regardless of the risk, Harry would do the right thing. He would protect an innocent man not just from the abuse of the ministry but also from being abused by himself.

Ron and Hermione considered Harry's thoughts as he reasoned through his actions and motivations. Hermione approved, she agreed that memory alteration was immoral and thought Harry was right to help Mr. Roberts. She felt that more wizards should do more good things for muggles. Ron was nervous as he realized the risk of Mr. Roberts knowing who had helped him, but he was forced to admit that memory altering could be fairly messed up.

"I'm not so sure that mind control is as inherently immoral as you think it is, Harry." Ron thought at Harry as they reached their campsite. "I don't see what the difference is if you stop a person from walking off a cliff by paralyzing them, mind controlling them, or tackling them to the ground. Either way you're forcing a person to not do what they want to do but saving their life in the process. What's important is that they're still alive at the end, and life is more important than freedom I think."

Harry disagreed with that point with absolute conviction, but his ability to argue the point was interrupted by the need to set up their campsite. This proves trickier than Harry had expected, as Hermione was the only person there with experience at camping, since the Weasleys rarely had the time or money to travel for vacation and Harry had never been taken by the Dursleys on any vacation. With two tents to set up and a fire to start, Hermione's attention was pulled every which way as she did her best to keep the tents from getting broken or a fire from breaking out.

Eventually the site was set up and they were free to see the results of their labor. The tents turned out to be magical and were much larger on the inside than they were on the outside. In fact, the inside of the boy's tent turned out to be a quite comfortable three-bedroom apartment with an attached kitchen and dining room. It would be a very comfortable place to spend the night, even if it did faintly smell of cats.

Mr. Weasley insisted on cooking their food over the fire rather than using the amenities of their tents, so Harry, Ron and Hermione were sent off to fetch some water and thus given an excuse to explore a bit. It was a very pleasant way to spend the morning as they got to see all the other wizard campsites, the crazy tents, the outrageous clothing and the lengths the Irish and Bulgarians would go to in order to show their support for their teams.

In the process they ran into a few other students from Hogwarts, like the ever-nervous Neville Longbottom and his fearsome grandmother. Or Seamus Finnigan who got them to swear they would support Ireland in the match. They also spotted some foreign students who went to other magical schools on the continent, including some quite attractive girls from the Beauxbaton academy of magic.

Harry used the trip as an excuse to visit each of the campsite owners in turn and set up psychic protection around their minds while explaining the situation to them. Luckily none of them had been as repeatedly visited as Mr. Roberts had since most of them had allowed their patrons to pay in advance by mailing money to their address. Nonetheless they all shared a sense of outrage over being lied to and mistreated in such a manner. It would seem that no one here would hold wizards in very high regard once the World Cup was done.

"Honestly it would've been so much simpler if the ministry had just explained what was happening to people beforehand." Hermione thought in exasperation. "They might even have agreed to getting their memories erased once everything was over if they had been offered enough money and understood the situation."

Ron and Harry both nodded in agreement. If nothing else the constant memory monitoring was tremendously inefficient. It was also quickly becoming ineffective. As more and more wizards arrived, the more blatant disregard for magical secrecy people showed.

Wizards were conjuring small houses instead of tents into existence. People were walking about in full robes, decked in outrageous colors sporting oversized and impractical hats. Wizard children too young for school were playing with magical toys out in the open, riding tiny magical brooms a foot or so off the ground, playing with toys and dolls that moved on their own. Magical vendors were moving from site to site selling souvenirs and other trinkets for people to show their support one way or the other for their teams.

In fact, the sheer number of people that were gathering started to feel a little overwhelming to Harry. He had gotten used to hearing over a hundred minds during the feasts at Hogwarts and could track dozens of magical sights at once. But there were thousands of people beginning to gather. Their thoughts were growing into an all-consuming roar, and the sight of so much magic was starting to blind him.

"Such are the limitations of a human mind." Esharry commented. "Had it been possible to complete the animagus ritual before now you might have been able to handle everything since you would've had an Illithid body to support your mind. As you are now it may be wise to retract your thoughts and keep them contained to your own head rather than risk straining yourself like this."

Harry reluctantly agreed. It felt so restricting keeping his thoughts to himself, and he felt blinded and trapped while he was unable to see what was going on in other people's heads, or what magic was about to go off. And he couldn't even feel what was happening behind himself, it was maddening, it almost made him paranoid having to move through a crowd with so little information.

Luckily Ron and Hermione were there. Even completely restrained he could still feel their minds and thoughts. Their presence comforted him, and Harry could see through their eyes if he needed to. It wasn't the same as being able to feel everything around himself like he was used to, but it helped.

By the time they returned to their campsite the rest of the Weasleys had joined them and Mr. Weasley was happily cooking some camp food on their fire. The morning passed with friendly conversation and plenty of laughter as the ministry steadily lost control of the growing crowd of wizards. As the ministry realized how hopeless it was to try and stop everyone from making any kind of open display of magic, more and more ministry wizards stopped by to say hello to Mr. Weasley and greet his family. Eventually even Ludo Bagman, the head of the department of magical sports stopped to have a chat.

Mr. Bagman was a large man in just about every sense. Tall and broad it was easy to see how he could've had such a successful career as a quidditch beater when he was younger, even if he was starting to get a little round in the middle these days. He had a loud voice and a boisterous personality.

"Anyone fancy a bet on the match?" He asked loudly after the initial pleasantries were exchanged. When Mr. Weasley initially balked; he pressed him good naturedly until he got a one galleon bet out of him.

"We've got thirty-seven galleons that Ireland will win but Bulgaria will be the ones to take the snitch." Fred declared as he and George pooled their money together.

"Boys, that's your whole savings!" Mr. Weasley said with exasperation. "You shouldn't be so reckless with your money."

"We'll even throw in a fake wand as well." Fred doubled down as he produced what seemed like a perfectly normal wand and handed it over to Ludo. The large wizard's face lit up with excitement as he gave the wand an experimental swish and then laughed uproariously when it changed into a rubber chicken for a few minutes before changing back.

"Why, that's amazing!" Bagman declared as he slipped the fake wand into his robes. "I've not seen a fake wand that convincing in years, I'll add five galleons to your bet for it."

"Don't encourage them Ludo." Mr. Weasley chided.

"Oh, why not Arthur?" Bagman shot back. "Everyone should do a few reckless things while growing up. If it works it makes great memories, and if it doesn't then it might teach them a lesson." He continued addressing the twins, "I think it's going to end up as a lesson for you two though. Viktor Krum is the favorite to get the snitch, but Ireland winning despite that? Not a chance, not a chance. I'll give you very good odds though. Say twelve to one on a forty-two-galleon bet?"

The twins nodded enthusiastic at the prospect of perhaps winning five hundred and four galleons, so Bagman took their money and wrote everything down in his book. Mr. Weasley couldn't do anything but shake his head exasperated at it all. Harry paid little mind to the exchange as he had no interest in gambling. Ron was debating whether to make a bet of his own but decided to keep his money for souvenirs instead. Hermione errantly wondered how Bagman expected to make any money if he was handing out odds like that, especially seeing as the pouch he added the twins' money to didn't seem that large.

"I don't suppose you've seen Barty Crouch anywhere around here?" Bagman asked once the bets were taken.

"Can't say I have." Mr. Weasley answered. "Why? Do you need him for something?"

"As a translator." Bagman explained. "The Bulgarians are after me for some last-minute detail and I don't speak a lick of that tongue, but Crouch does if I'm not mistaken."

"He does." Percy confirmed, eager to praise his favorite boss once more. "Mr. Crouch speaks over two hundred languages, even mermish and gobbledegook."

That was the first thing Percy had said about Crouch which actually impressed Harry. He wondered if perhaps he should start learning other languages. In his mind his own thoughts always sounded like they were spoken in English, he expected that people that didn't speak English would hear their own thoughts in their own language. He wondered if his psychic power would translate the thoughts he read or if he would just hear a load of French babble if he read a French person's mind. He wished he had tried to read the minds of those foreign students he ran into earlier, but by that point the number of minds around him had already forced him back into his own head.

While Harry considered this Mr. Weasley asked after the missing Bertha Jorkins. The woman worked in Bagman's department and so was technically his responsibility. Bagman hadn't heard from her yet either.

"Don't you think you should send someone looking for her?" Mr. Weasley asked. "I know she probably just got lost but Albania isn't the safest country to get lost in."

"I haven't had even a single man to spare for her." Bagman complained. "We've been swamped since winter getting everything ready for this World Cup. And it's not like things are going to get any less hectic afterwards what with the next project coming. Oh, don't worry about it Arthur, Bertha's been gone longer than this and still turned up alright. I just expect she got Australia mixed up with Austria and is now lost somewhere in New Zealand."

"Well, if you can't spare the manpower, maybe you should ask the DMLE to send someone." Mr. Weasley suggested.

"I wouldn't want to trouble them with something so minor." Bagman said with a shrug. "But if you're worried enough to bring it up with Amelia Bones I won't stand in your way. Though I suspect she'll tell you not to worry about it."

Not long after that Barty Crouch approached their group looking for Ludo Bagman. He was a tall thin man with bags under his eyes. In his sensible suit and with his neatly trimmed hair he looked more like a muggle than Harry did. But he also looked like a man under a lot of stress to Harry. He seemed a man who had worried about big issues for so long he was starting to lose track of the smaller details. Which he shortly proved.

"Mr. Crouch, would you like some tea?" Percy, one of Crouch's immediate subordinates, was quick to offer.

"Ah thank you Weatherby." Crouch answered, completely forgetting Percy's name. Fred and George looked like they had just been handed a pot of a hundred galleons, Percy's ears turned red.

While Crouch talked shop with Mr. Weasley and Bagman, Harry found himself wrestling with his emotions. Try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to hate Barty Crouch. He should, the man was the reason why his godfather was in danger of being murdered if he set foot in the country. He had breached common law and set dangerous precedents in the ministry that could lead to all kinds of abuse. He was obviously arrogant and eager to project the image that he always followed the rules exactly.

But all Harry could see was a man who had stood near the top of the world and then fallen hard at the last moment. A man desperately trying to reclaim that lost glory, of proving he was still the man he had once been. He seemed a broken and tragic thing to Harry.

Harry certainly didn't like the man, nor did he wish him any better. And Harry definitely thought the man deserved everything that had happened to him. But Harry couldn't make himself wish any worse upon the man and he couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever really talked to the man about what he had been through or helped him try and process it. The treacherous thought crossed Harry's mind to wonder if perhaps the world had ignored Mr. Crouch and his growing suffering in much the same way it had ignored him when he was at his relatives' mercy.

Crouch soon took Bagman away to deal with the Bulgarian delegation and they were all left to their own devices again. Soon souvenir salesmen began to make their way through the campsites offering their wares. They made good money at the Weasley campsite as everyone other than the now bankrupt twins were freely exchanging their money for mementoes of the World Cup.

They bought large green hats that flashed with lights when they yelled or clapped. Rosaries shaped like shamrocks that spoke the names of the Irish team players. Photographs of the teams that were enchanted so that the players in them recited their history and accomplishments if you asked them to. Hermione bought a pamphlet that could fit in her pocket despite being filled with almost a hundred pages of World Cup and quidditch history. Harry got a photo album that showed off the winning plays of the last five World Cups. And Ron bought a small, animated statue of Viktor Krum, the star Bulgarian player which could march angrily back and forth across his hand or hop on a small broom to fly intricate patterns through the air.

One of the last sales wizards to stop by was selling something called omnioculars. They looked like binoculars, but the sales wizard claimed they could replay the action, slow down the match in their eyes and even make play-by-play commentary. They sounded fascinating, if a little useless outside of the World Cup itself. Harry wondered if these were features he might be able to work into the new crystal ball he was designing. Hermione was also quite interested in how such a thing might work; Ron just loved the idea of how much better they would make it to watch the game with.

Ron and Hermione were out of their spending money by that point though, so Harry got them both a set with his own money. Ron nearly refused to take a set though. He opened his mouth to remind them that he was no charity case but suddenly stopped as he saw just how happy it made Harry to get a chance to do something kind for his friends. So, he took the omnioculars with a sheepish shrug.

Eventually it was time for the World Cup to begin so everyone started making their way into the woods around the campgrounds. After walking for a few miles, they came across the massive stadium that had been built for the event. It was as large as any football stadium, made from wood and obviously held up more by magic than any kind of competent construction. Mr. Weasley's seats were up near the top in a special box made for some of the top ministry officials and their guests. Ludo Bagman was there as he would be providing color commentary. Harry also did a double take as he spotted a small house elf seated near the back of the box with their hands over their eyes.

"Dobby?" Harry called out to the elf mistaking it for the house elf that had nearly gotten him killed during his second year of Hogwarts in a well-meaning but wrongheaded attempt to protect him from Lucious Malfoy's scheming. "Is that you?"

"Dobby?" The house elf responded in a voice similar to Dobby's but higher pitched. "I's is not Dobby. I's is Winky, sir." The house peaked around their fingers and suddenly gasped in surprise. "And yous is Harry Potter, sir. Dobby has told me much of you, sir."

"You know Dobby then?" Harry asked. "Sorry for mistaking him for you but you remind me a lot of him. Do you know how he's been doing? I've not seen him for two years."

The house elf was much like how Harry remembered Dobby. Small and nobbly, rail thin with large eyes and long ears. They were wearing a tea towel for clothing which was in much better condition than the worn-out bag that Dobby had worn. From the house elf's higher pitched voice and the more modest way they held themselves Harry guessed Winky might be a girl house elf.

"Oh, Dobby has not been well." Winky moaned. "Mr. Harry Potter sir may not have done Dobby any favors helping him get free. The Malfoy's were a bad match for Dobby, is true, be he has gotten ideas above his station since then. He has been demanding to be paid to work for any new master sir. I's has warned him I's has. I's says 'Dobby you's is needing a new master. You's is needing to stop all this paying talk and be a good house elf instead.' but Dobby has not been listening to me."

Hermione harrumphed at the thought of anyone working without being paid, and Harry was inclined to agree. But Winky seemed adamant in her belief that Dobby was in a bad way without a master and a house elf would understand this business better. Harry decided to change the subject before Hermione decided she had to speak up. He had noticed that while Winky was speaking to him, she couldn't make up her mind whether to look him in the eyes or hide her eyes behind her hands.

"Is something wrong with your eyes Winky?" Harry asked, "Why do you keep covering them up like that?"

"Because Winky is scared of heights, Mr. Harry Potter sir." The house elf explained. "I's would not be up so high if Master Mr. Crouch had not told me to reserve him a seat. I's is scared to be up here, but I's is a good house elf, so I's does as my Master commands, and without needing to be paid."

"He made you come up here even though you're scared of heights?" Hermione said scandalized. "That's awful."

"Winky's Master is not awful!" Winky shot back equally scandalized. "Master Crouch is a great man. Winky is lucky to serve him, she is a good house elf."

"And you are very brave to come up here for him. I'm sure Mr. Crouch appreciates it." Harry placated before the argument could grow. From what he remembered of Dobby, even if Winky hated being up here she would never admit it, the magic that existed between wizards and house elves made it impossible for house elves to even think badly of their masters. Or perhaps it wasn't the magic of their relationship but something inherent to house elves themselves, a magically encouraged or even enforced behavior.

Winky beamed proudly as Harry paid her a compliment. Hermione was too shocked to press further as she saw Harry's memories of Dobby having to beat himself as punishment for trying to thwart Lucious's plans for murder. Any additional conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and his Irish and Bulgarians counterparts. As the Minister introduced his companions to the famous Harry Potter Hermione complained in their minds.

"I can't believe wizards would treat house elves so poorly!" She declared.

"It's not so bad." Ron objected. "They get provided for and protected by the wizards they work for. Plus, they want to be helpful."

"That isn't the point, Ron." Hermione insisted. "It's a demeaning way to treat any creature. They deserve better."

The arrival of the Malfoys saved Ron and Harry from having to make any response. Lucius Malfoy got an array of dirty looks from all the Weasleys as he was greeted by the Minister of Magic like an old friend. Harry's attention was drawn to the quite lovely looking woman who had come with Lucius who could only be his wife, Narcissa Malfoy. Sirius had written about her briefly in response to Harry asking questions about his family, he had called her his second most tolerable cousin. Harry could sort of see what he was talking about.

The first look Narcissa had cast over the Weasley family had been kind and approving. It was only when they glanced in her direction that a more classically Malfoy sneer of superiority marred her face. Harry carefully focused his empathic powers, channeling them through his telepathy to only touch the single mind he was interested, allowing him to hear Narcissa's thoughts without picking up the thunderous roar that would be a hundred thousand minds around him. This confirmed what he had suspected. Narcissa was quite happy to see a happy and loving family out and enjoying themselves. It was only when she remembered that the Weasleys were technically enemies of her husband that she turned a sterner expression on them. It was just as Sirius had described: the cold, calloused, smug superiority that was a hallmark of House Black simply didn't come naturally to her, she had to really try to act snobbish and live up to what she thought was expected of her.

Even more interesting than Narcissa though was Draco. If Harry wasn't mistaken, Draco had actually looked a bit embarrassed when his father made a cutting set of remarks about how Mr. Weasley must've sold his house to afford the tickets. A glance at his thoughts confirmed it. Looks like Draco's new sense of empathy wasn't making home life any easier for him. Harry decided the throw him a curve ball.

"Draco." Harry called to him across the row of seats, surprising the other boy as he struck up a conversation with him. "How was your summer?" Harry continued as if they were two friends catching up.

"It was fine." Draco responded awkwardly, caught off guard he couldn't think of what to do other than to be polite and honest. He decided to add in some light boasting to regain his footing. "We went on a tour of some of the Eastern European countries. My father had business with some of their warlocks. We finished it off by watching some of the practice sessions of the Bulgarian national team, and even saw a game they played against one of the local teams."

"Sounds like fun." Harry complimented him. "The only interesting thing that happened to me this summer was when McGonagall dropped by to give me an entrance test so I could start taking Ancient Runes as another elective this year. Remind me which electives are you taking again? Besides Care of Magical Creatures, I mean?"

Draco's mind recoiled as if struck when reminded of the care of magical creatures class. The man still felt guilty about the whole Buckbeak incident. "Just Arithmancy." He admitted.

"Have you considered taking muggle studies?" Harry suggested.

"Why on earth would I ever waste my time with such a useless subject?" Draco shot back.

"Could be a good business opportunity I think." Harry said simply. "Bill was telling me the goblins at Gringotts haven't figured out how to get any gold out of the muggles to make more galleons with. The wizard who solves that problem might well become quite fabulously rich."

Draco was left drum struck by what Harry was saying. Harry knew well that Draco thought of himself as Harry's mortal enemy, Harry placed him in sixth place just behind all dementors and just ahead of the department of mysteries. He couldn't understand why Harry might possibly want to offer him potentially useful advice for the future. Harry just wanted to see if he could pry Draco's world view open just a bit more.

"It might become a lot more important in the future." Harry continued. "I don't think the statute of secrecy can last for more than another decade. I'm surprised it's lasted this long now that muggles have so many spy satellites up in the air now."

"Spy what?" Draco asked in utter confusion.

"Cameras the muggles have launched up into space." Harry explained. "They use them to take pictures of other countries, watching out for troop movements and secret bases and the like. It's only a matter of time before one catches a glimpse of Hogsmeade and someone wonders what's going on in a village in the north of England that doesn't show up on any map."

Now everyone other than Hermione within earshot was looking at Harry like he had just announced his intention to steal the Alps from the Swiss. It seemed that the space race had passed completely unnoticed by most magical people. The thought that muggles had anything in space hadn't occurred to anyone.

"Maybe muggle studies should be a mandatory class in Hogwarts come to think of it." Harry concluded.

Further discussion was cut off by Ludo Bagman, who hasn't been close enough to Harry to overhear his conversation announcing the official beginning to the game by inviting the players to the field. Harry closed off his empathy once more as he sat back to enjoy the game, while in the back of his mind he heard Hermione explain to Ron a brief history of space exploration over their telepathic link. Once she was done Ron posed a question to Harry.

"You really rate Draco as more dangerous than the department of mysteries?" He asked.

"Well, they don't know I exist yet, whereas Draco can make himself into an annoyance whenever he wishes so yes." Harry responded.

"Who's got the top four?" Ron inquired.

"The Elder Brain stands at the top followed by Professor Trainer." Harry explained. "Then Voldemort in third, and the whole ministry in fourth. Though they're more an obstacle to overcome than a real enemy if I'm honest."

"You're just still mad about Sirius not getting a trial." Ron surmised.

"Absolutely livid." Harry admitted. "Seriously how difficult would it have been to get Dumbledore to read his mind and confirm he really was the traitor they were looking for. One stupid assumption not only left an innocent man to suffer for twelve years but left me with my relatives for the same time. Ron, we might have grown up together if they weren't so incompetent."

Ron was silent for a time as he thought over that fact. A sense of righteous indignation steadily grew in his mind. Eventually he agreed with Harry in his assessment of the ministry and vowed to bring about real change to the organization once they had taken it over.

"I'm just surprised you don't have Snape on that list." Hermione cut in to relieve the tension.

"Damn you're right." Harry said back. "How could I ever forget about Snape? I guess Draco will have to get bumped down to seventh place."

The World Cup match itself was incredibly exciting to watch. The action was fast paced, the teams masterful in their coordination and skills, and there was plenty of drama to enjoy as well. Most of that drama came from the mascots that both teams had brought.

The Irish had a host of leprechauns flying in formation with green lanterns that lit up the sky. They swept over the stadium in a giant green shamrock dropping gold on the attendants and spelled out cheers in the air and the occasional rude gesture to hype their team up. Ron almost madly scrambled to gather the discarded gold until Hermione pointed out that it was almost certainly fairy gold that would turn to lead come sunrise.

The Bulgarians brought a flock of beautiful flying women with elegant bird wings for arms which Mr. Weasley named Veela. They must've been related to Sirens, since when they started singing a very weak telepathic influence tried to latch onto Harry's mind and hypnotize him. Harry brushed it away without a second thought, and Ron did so as well, though it took more effort for him to do so since he didn't produce as much psychic power as Harry did. Hermione was completely unaffected by the song, though the twins found themselves out of their seats, striking poses and shouting out their best qualities to try and impress the passing women.

"I'm impressed you two managed to keep your heads through that." Mr. Weasley complimented Ron and Harry as he pulled his other young sons back to their seats. He hadn't been affected by the song either. "Normally Veela song works on anyone who hasn't experienced what real love is like or realized that real beauty is more than skin deep."

"I think it's awful that they're allowed to run around making fools out of people like that." Hermione harrumphed. "I thought mind control was illegal anyway."

"It's hypnotism, not mind control." Mr. Weasley pointed out. "Veela can't make you do anything you don't already sort of want to do. It's a defense mechanism more than anything else. A way to get others to see them as cute and helpless so that no one would want to hurt them."

As fun as the mascots were, the real star of the show was Victor Krum, the seeker for the Bulgarian team. He was the first person that Harry would've admitted was an objectively better flier than he was. The man had clearly been born to take to the sky. His skill was utterly flawless, his awareness perfect, the man was utterly untouchable in the air. Twice he led the Irish seeker into false dives to break up the momentum the Irish team had been building, and once he got the other man to plow headfirst into the ground. It was a wonder to watch the man take to the air.

Unfortunately, the rest of the Bulgarian team didn't live up to the standard their seeker set, and the Irish team was clearly better overall. After only an hour or so of play, the Irish team had such a commanding lead over the Bulgarians that even catching the snitch wouldn't make up for the deficit. Harry suspected that Krum spotted the snitch several times but turned away from it to give his team a chance to catch up. Eventually though he had no choice but to race the Irish seeker for the snitch. Amazingly, despite starting from a disadvantageous position, it was Krum who caught the snitch and ended the game, though it ended as an Irish victory.

The stands quickly cleared once the Irish were crowned the victors. Harry noticed that even after the whole game, Barty Crouch never had come to claim the seat that his house elf had saved for him. Hermione brooded over that thought, and Harry had to agree with her. If the man was going to make his house elf go through such an ordeal the least he could do was make her efforts worth the hassle.

The Weasleys and company made their way back to the campsite in good cheer. They all stayed up late into the night around the campfire reliving the best moments of the game with each other. Mr. Weasley got them all a round of butter beers from one of the vendors that were still making rounds through the mass of Wizards. It was an excellent way to close out an excellent day. Long after the sun had gone down, they all finally retired to their tents to get a little sleep before they went home the next day. But none of them got to sleep for very long.

Harry felt like he had only closed his eyes for a second when he was suddenly shaken awake by Bill Weasley. "Get your shoes on, something is happening." He said and then vanished out of the tent. Harry joined Ron and the twins as they were rubbing sleep from their eyes, got his shoes and his glasses and then went outside.

An awful racket was being raised through the camp as off in the distance a group of wizards in dark robes and masks had formed a mob and were rampaging through the camp. They blasted tents aside and shot jinxes and hexes at anyone who didn't get out of their way fast enough. Worst of all they had a group of people suspended up in the air.

From the light of several burning tents Harry could make out the shape of Mr. Roberts and his family suspended in the air. His two daughters were screaming in terror, his wife was being flipped upside down over and over again so her night dress would nearly fall off and expose her underwear. Mr. Roberts himself cursed and yelled at his attackers but could do nothing to help his family.

"Those poor people." Hermione cried, while Ron grit his teeth in anger and disgust. "Can't anyone stop this?"

"Muggle baiters." Percy said in shocked disbelief. "They can't believe they'll get away with this with so many ministry officials around."

"We'll need almost everyone here to disperse a mob this large." Mr. Weasley noted, then he took charge of the situation. "Fred, George get your sister to safety. Ron, Hermione and Harry, you all go with them too, this could get very dangerous. Charlie apparate over to the security tent, make sure they know what's happening and help them gather as many officials as they can. The rest of us will try and contain the mob for now."

"Can't we get the Roberts away from them?" Harry asked desperately.

"We can't risk it until the mob is under control." Percy pointed out, as Mr. Weasley was already heading to intercept the mass of dark wizards. "If we tried to snatch them away, they might hit them with a really nasty curse."

With that remark Percy took off after his father along with Bill while Charlie vanished with a crack. The twins had to all but physically lift Ginny off the ground, but they soon were leading her away towards a nearby forest. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed but Harry dragged his feet. He hated this. Thoughts of abandoning so many people back in the Illithid colony filled his mind. He had been so powerless then and could do nothing to help as people had their very souls destroyed. Was he really going to turn his back on another group of helpless innocents? But what could he do? Percy was right, they couldn't just snatch away the Roberts right under the mob's nose.

"Not unless something has distracted them like the ministry's counterattack." Esharry noted, and then a thought occurred to Harry.

"Harry you can't-" Hermione thought at him by instinct, but she could see the thoughts turning in Harry's mind, the plan he was forming, and his determination to do something hardening in his heart.

"Get Hermione to safety." He thought at Ron, and it took a lot of effort not to make that into an irresistible command. "She's the one in the greatest danger here if they're a bunch of blood purists."

Ron hesitated; his mind has already been thinking in that direction so he knew Harry was right. The urge to go with Harry was strong as well. But Harry was the one with the best chance of passing unnoticed, and that was the only chance for the plan to work. If all three of them went it would only increase the chance they might be noticed and wouldn't do much to increase their chances of getting away safely if they were. Eventually he nodded and over Hermione's growing protests he grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

"You had better come back to us safely, Harry." They both ordered him.

Harry smiled and sent back: "I will."

Harry then doubled back the way they had come. As he did, he patted down his clothes looking for his wand but couldn't find it. He cursed himself since he must've left it back in the tent and he didn't have time to go looking for it. He had other options though, these days he always made sure to keep his Ulitharid staff shrunken on his person somewhere. He pulled the five-inch-long staff out and quickly grew it back up to its full size. At least he wouldn't have to worry about setting off the underage magic trace.

As Harry went, he cast a quick disillusionment spell on himself and began to project his psychic "pay no attention to me" field. The effects combined made him practically invisible and bought him the time he needed to get into place. It allowed him to slip past the barricade of Ministry Wizards that had formed around the mob, then slink off to the side of the mob behind a few of the larger ruined tents. This allowed him to get as close as he could to the mass of dark wizards while still having at least some cover to protect himself.

Once there he got to work. Charms class had taught him a little about bending light and creating shapes of magic. He combined this with what he had learned of the patronus charm and how it could use thought and intention to give magic shape and motion. In the magic he wove he fixed his memory of the illusionary dragons he had seen in his book of dangerous magical creatures that Hagrid had gotten him last Christmas. He kept the illusion semi-transparent so that it wasn't noticeable in the dark night quite yet especially seeing as it was also under the effect of his psychic shield. Once it was done, he was ready.

Harry stepped out from behind the tents to get a clear view of the mob. They still hadn't noticed him since his skin still shifted in color to match his background, making him little more than a walking shadow in the deep night. He conjured in his mind the thought of Hermione and Ron being suspended up in the air by the mob and allowed his anger to build and rage in his mind. Righteous indignation over the mistreatment of the innocent muggle family easily morphed into an all-consuming desire for vengeance, to make all the wizards before him feel pain. Harry released his "notice me not" field and firmed the image of the dragon he had made. Then he gathered all the fear and near panic the act of attacking a mob of a hundred fully grown and trained wizards filled his mind with and pushed it out in a psychic wave of sheer dread at the dark wizards.

The crowd's chants and yells of revelry and pleasure ended in an instant as the wave of fear washed over the dark wizards. They turned and looked as one in Harry's direction, but their attention was focused on the image of the towering, roaring dragon that stood above Harry. Shock and fear overwhelmed many of them and the mob tried to step back away from the specter, many of them dropping their wands in panic. Then Harry struck.

"Negra Ignis." Harry all but whispered as he swept his staff forward. His magic answered the incantation, and the newborn curse drank the hatred in his mind. It raged and roared in delight as it grew massive and powerful on magic and psychic fury. When the staff completed its sweeping motion a great wave of black fire flew from its tip, as the illusionary dragon bent low as if to unleash a great breath.

The burning mass of pain swept over the assembled mob. In an instant almost all the wizards were covered in fire that burned sensation and left only pain and numbness. Most were caught completely unprepared and could do nothing but scream and try to run away. Others swiftly raised shields to guard themselves, but the black flames burned magic far more easily than they could burn skin, so such shields quickly failed, and their masters were left to the mercy of those pitiless flames. Only a few people in the mob recognized what was coming and conjured the water spells needed to wash the flames away and so escaped the attack unscathed.

The curse urged Harry to continue feeding it his anger and power. It promised it could burn them all away, make the whole mob feel all the pain and terror they had remorselessly inflicted on others. But Harry paid it no mind. He stopped casting the spell almost as soon as he unleashed it. Since every dark wizard in the mob was either now wreathed in pain, or desperately trying to protect themselves, no one was concentrating on keeping the Roberts airborne.

Harry reached out with his telekinesis and caught each member of the family before they had dropped more than a few feet. It was a strain to hold them all, but with Esharry's help he managed it. Quickly he lowered them all down to the ground, far away from the mob right next to where the ministry was still keeping up its blockade. That was when all hell seemed to break loose.

Once the Roberts were safe on the ground, and with the mob in obvious disarray, the Ministry decided to attack. The dozens of officials who had gathered already closed in on the mob from every side, a wave of red stunner spells flashing from their wands as they tried to subdue the dark wizards. But the mob had not been idle while their hostages were stolen.

Those few who had known that water could wash away the black flames immediately began to spray down their fellows and save them from the pain they felt. One fellow, whom Harry was certain must be Lucius Malfoy, conjured up a dome of water around himself and sent it blasting off around him in a great wave that not only extinguished much of the weakened flames but pulled dozens of other wizards up to their feet. In seconds the mob had rallied and was striking back against the ministers, only a dozen or so of their members had been struck down, a real fight had started now.

Harry was tempted to weigh in himself, using the other curses he knew to try and ensure that as much of the mob as possible faced justice. But if the ministry caught him there would be a lot of awkward questions to answer afterwards. Besides it seemed to Harry that the fight was going the Ministry's way. The dark wizards had been badly hurt by the black flames and were still in disarray. They had the advantage of numbers, but the ministry was more organized. Furthermore, Harry's illusionary dragon had taken on a life of its own. It was swooping back and forth over the mob, roaring and snapping at people. It couldn't hurt anyone, but it was a powerful distraction, and many dark wizards were wasting time shooting spells up into the air after it. So, Harry levitated himself up into the air and slipped away as a shadow in the night.

Harry began making his way in the direction of Ron and Hermione's minds. They had made their way fairly deep into the woods. When Harry reached those same woods, he removed the disillusionment charm from himself and shrank his staff back down to hide away. Surprisingly rather than running into Ron and Hermione he actually ran into Fred, George and Ginny first.

"Harry!" Fred shouted as he caught Harry in a beam of light from his wand. "Over here! Where have you been? We've been looking for you and the others for a while now."

"Sorry Fred." Harry apologized as the group approached him. "I got lost in the dark. I don't have my wand on me to light anything up."

The others nodded, accepting his excuse. They gazed back in the way Harry had come, towards the campground. The sound of fighting was thick in the air and only growing more intense.

"I hope Dad's alright." Ginny said under her breath.

"He'll be fine." George reassured her. "He fought back in the war, remember? And none of those people could possibly be crazy enough to actually seriously injure a ministry official. Madam Bones would have their heads for that."

Harry nodded in agreement and without really thinking he started projecting waves of calming and steadying energy around himself. He then nodded in the direction he felt Ron and Hermione's minds in and said: "I think I saw Ron and Hermione go off in this direction, we should try and find them."

No sooner had the group started moving though then a green light suddenly shot off into the air. Once it had arced high into the sky it suddenly exploded, an image of a leering green skull appeared. The skull's mouth opened a few times as if laughing and then a snake slithered out of its teeth, and it froze in the air. It was a macabre sight, and Harry felt uneasy standing beneath its glare. Then he realized that all the noise of the fighting had suddenly stopped. Perhaps that had been some signal for the dark wizards to retreat? Harry hoped not too many of them had managed to get away-

"Hermione duck!" Ron suddenly shouted across their mental link as brief panic filled the both of them. Fear gripped Harry's heart, and he was about to take off a sprint towards them when Hermione spoke up next.

"Were alright Harry, I think those are ministry wizards."

Harry hesitated as he continues to walk along with the twins and Ginny. He wanted to take off and find out what was happening, but while Hermione and Ron felt a little nervous, they weren't in pain and insisted they weren't in danger. For now, he decided not to let on that anything had gone wrong, but he did pick up his pace a bit as he continued towards them. No one in his group complained as they started power walking.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"They think we might have conjured that skull in the air." Ron answered. "They called it the Dark Mark or something."

"They're checking our wands now." Hermione continued. Then after a few seconds she added. "Okay they believe us now that they see we had only cast the lumos spell recently. Though I think we're going to get a talking to later about underage magic."

"Why would they think you two conjured it?" Harry wondered.

"It did come from nearby." Ron confirmed. "I told them I saw someone cast the spell from the forest, but they didn't believe me."

"They started searching the forest now." Hermione explained. There was another long pause until she spoke again, this time there was outrage in her mind. "They've found a house elf- and it's Winky the poor thing, and they're trying to blame everything on her!"

"She's got your wand mate." Ron put in to Harry's shock.

He hadn't expected that, she must've stolen it from his pocket during the game. Harry cursed the fact that he hadn't dared open up his full psychic awareness surrounded by so many people, he would've been able to see that coming. He was definitely going to work on that weakness until he could handle walking through the center of London without any trouble.

"I'm surprised she had the courage for that." Esharry noted. "She was so scared of heights the whole time I wouldn't have been surprised if the only time she had opened her eyes was to talk to us."

Yet Winky did have his wand, so she must've stolen it at some point. Harry noted that to the others which made Hermione harrumph in disagreement.

"She's insisting she didn't steal it, and she sounds very sincere to me."

"Then how does she say she got it then?" Harry wondered.

"She's not saying that either." Ron explained. "I wish you were here Harry; you could just read her mind then and get the real story out of her."

"I'm definitely teaching myself the legilimens spell this year." Hermione vowed. "Or I'm going to figure out how to read minds with what little psychic power I've got."

Harry chuckled under his breath at the thought. They he sent to her, "I've still got some notes on Legilimency and Occlumency from the last time I broke into the restricted section. I'll be sure to share them with you when we get back to the Burrow."

"They just did the recall spell on your wand. It definitely was the one that conjured that skull." Ron reported. "I think Winky might be in serious trouble, though Dad's at least standing up for her."

"She couldn't have cast it." Hermione insisted. "How could a house elf ever learn to use wizard magic?"

"I hope this doesn't mean my wand is going to be kept as a piece of evidence." Harry wondered. "I kind of need it for school."

"You're right I'll point it out." Ron said. There was another pause for about a minute, during which both Ron and Hermione grew a lot more frustrated. Then Ron reported in again. "Okay so, Amos Diggory just accused you of conjuring the dark mark, which is apparently related to You Know Who, but Dad slapped that idea down pretty quick because obviously. Now they're accusing Barty Crouch of conjuring the skull cause it was his house elf who had the wand that did it. Dad says that he's even less likely to have done so than you were."

"It's the one positive thing Sirius has ever said about the man." Harry agreed. "He does genuinely hate the dark arts."

"I think everyone is of the opinion now that some unknown death eater threw the mark into the sky to scare off the mob with a stolen wand." Ron concluded. "Then dropped your wand and ran away, and Winky just picked it up right before all the ministry wizards showed up and accidentally hit her with a stunner spell."

"So Winky's off the hook then?" Harry asked hopefully, innocent people shouldn't suffer mistreatment after all.

"Mr. Crouch just threatened to give her clothes for this!" Hermione mentally shouted in outrage; Crouch was essentially threatening to fire Winky over this incident. "He's going to punish her because she ran away from a terrifying mob and accidentally embarrassed him!"

"What?!" Harry shouted back in equal outrage. "But it sounds like she didn't do anything wrong! And she's his servant!"

That just wasn't right, Harry thought to himself. No more than that, it was fundamentally wrong. Winky was bound to Mr. Crouch by oath and magic, if Harry wasn't mistaken. That created obligations both ways. Crouch had to watch out for her and make sure she was protected and taken care of. He had no right to make her torture herself by spending a whole Quidditch match in a location that terrified her and then drop her from his protection the moment the least bit of social pressure was placed against him.

Not even the Illithids would treat a thrall so poorly, which was the real rub. An Illithid would sooner cut off their own arm then give up a thrall, and in much the same circumstances. Like a man with an arm trapped under a boulder, an Illithid would choose their own lives over a thrall's, but that was it. Accusing another Illithid's thrall of acting against the colony was one of the few ways to bring two Illithids to blows. If such a dark and detestable race could do the right thing and stand up for theirs, why couldn't Crouch? It made him a truly detestable person.

But there was nothing Harry could do about it. Nor was there anything that Ron or Hermione could do either for that matter. All three of them had to silently watch such an injustice take place.

This did seem to settle the matter in the minds of the ministry wizards, since soon Mr. Weasley was leading Ron and Hermione back to camp. In the dark Harry was easily able to adjust his course to eventually lead the twins and Ginny to intercept them. Mr. Weasley was supremely grateful to see the rest of his children safe and sound. He returned Harry's wand to him, and they all returned to their tents.

The faintest light of the coming dawn could be seen on the horizon and so there seemed little sense in trying to return to sleep. Mr. Weasley tried to insist but his children's demand for answers and information overwhelmed him, and he relented. They restarted their fire and gathered around it to share their own stories of what had happened.

Ron and Hermione had gotten separated from the others shortly after entering the forest. It had taken a while for people to realize the value of lighting up their wands, and even that brief joint through the dark shadowy forest had been enough to separate them. This gave Harry an excellent excuse for how he had ended up away from the others, especially since he had been missing his wand.

The fight against the mob sounded terribly exciting in the moment to moment details, but the final results were actually pretty inconclusive. No one on either side had been willing to use the kind of big spells or major curses that could actually take someone out. A dark wizard would get stunned or paralyzed by a ministry wizard, but before they could be hauled off, the ministry wizard would get blind-sided by someone they hadn't seen and while they were distracted someone else from the mob would release their first target. Then when the Dark Mark, the sign Voldemort used to use to announce he had done murder during the night according to Mr. Weasley, lit up the sky, every member of the mob who was still on their feet had apparated away.

"For all the fuss I don't think we caught more than maybe a dozen of them." Mr. Weasley concluded disappointedly. "And doubtlessly they will be claiming they were forced to join the mob under mind control by the morning. I doubt much will come from it."

"What I want to know is why though?" Percy, who had been moving around the camp with a slight limp, asked. "Why come out in force like this after so many years of peace? And why did those two dark wizards decide to break them up?"

"Two dark wizards broke them up?" Ron said incredulously. "It sounded like it was the ministry that put a stop to them."

"We gave a good showing." Mr. Weasley said, throwing a proud look at his three eldest sons. "But we did have help from the other side. The most powerful curse cast tonight was that wave of black fire that broke up the mob and let us rescue the muggles. And it was the dark mark in the end that scared them all away."

"Why would the mark scare them?" Harry asked, he was surprised by that idea. He wasn't surprised by the thought that his Ignis Negra had been cast by an evil wizard, and he had no interest in disabusing Mr. Weasley of the notion. "I thought you had said it was Voldemort's symbol."

"How could You Know Who's sign not scare them?" Mr. Weasley asked after he had flinched at the sound of Tom Riddle's name. "That mob must've been made up of his old Death Eaters. Out to spend the night reminding us all of the fear and terror they once inspired in everyone, their idea of good fun no doubt. But they're the ones who secured their freedom by selling out their companions. They're the ones who have done nothing to try and bring him back all these years. If their master had returned this night, they would be the ones he would be the most furious with."

"But I do wonder who had acted against them." Mr. Weasley continued. "I would've said every Death Eater in Great Britain must've been in that mob, yet it seems at least two of them have had a falling out with the others. But who could they have been? And why? It almost seemed like the one who unleashed those black flames was trying to free those poor muggles. But I can't imagine a wizard dark enough to use such a curse who would care about a muggle family."

"Maybe they disagreed with the plan to come out tonight." Percy suggested. "So, they wanted the mob to fail to have their fun. If they are someone vying for power in the pure blood faction, they might want to embarrass Lucius by making sure this night failed."

"Or maybe it was Lucius." Bill posited. "Maybe this rally was someone else's idea, and he needed to remind everyone who's in charge. He has been keeping their side pretty quiet since the war ended."

"But he's been throwing his weight around more and more these past few years." Mr. Weasley rejected. "No, if anyone was in charge of that display my money would've been on him."

"The one who conjured the mark is a lot more worrying." Mr. Weasley continued. "The only motive I could see for that is that someone wanted to remind that mob who their real master is. There's at least a chance the other rogue has turned against the rest of the other side, but whoever conjured the mark must be a true loyalist to You Know Who. The only person I can think of who meets that description and isn't locked up in Azkaban would be Peter Pettigrew."

"Wormtail would never have the courage to even come near a gathering of wizards like this." Harry rejected emphatically. "Nor would he be willing to perhaps make so many dark wizards angry at him by censuring them like that."

"I agree." Mr. Weasley said simply. "Which means there's someone else out there who might be just as willing as Peter is to work for You Know Who's return."

That was a deeply unsettling thought to see the Sun begin to rise to.

AN: my apologies for the state this was originally uploaded in. I have. I no idea how that happened.