"That was amazing!" Ron said, as the group made their way out of the stadium after the match.

"They were just so fast," Harry agreed, wonder in his voice. "The Chasers were passing so often, Bagman could hardly keep up with announcing who had the Quaffle from one second to the next. And the things Krum can do on a broom…"

"Not to mention the things he did to Lynch's focus," Ginny added, referring to the way Krum had fooled Ireland's Seeker with a well-executed Wronski Feint, among other such maneuvers. "If you can get your opponent to look where you want them to, rather than where the real action is, they don't stand a chance."

Harry said, "Yeah. Watching him play gave me so many ideas to try next season. Thanks again for inviting us, Mr Weasley."

The rest of the group echoed his thanks, and Arthur assured them it was his pleasure.

Ron said, "It's so different from listening to games on the wireless. I guess it goes to show you can't capture the essence of Quidditch in words. Or in numbers."

Hermione replied, "If that was a dig at Arithmancy, I never claimed it could capture everything. It's challenging enough to work out probabilities for possible final outcomes of a match. You'd never be able to predict every play, not even if you had a Muggle computer which somehow didn't fail as soon as you tried to use it for magic. There would be far too many variables."

Despite Ron's claim about the inadequacy of words to capture the experience, he joined in with enthusiasm as everyone discussed the match while they followed the path back through the woods to their campsite. The Irish Chasers had opened a solid early lead, which the Bulgarians reacted to with more aggressive play, making for a rough match with lots of fouls. The mascots even had a brief skirmish of their own, the Veela sprouting wings and taking on avian features, then hurling fireballs with their bare hands.

Despite Ireland's lead, the Bulgarians managed to keep the score close enough for long enough for their Seeker–Viktor Krum–to catch the Snitch and win the match with a score of 160 to 150. Both teams had come to the top box to meet the Minister and other dignitaries, and for the winning team to receive the Cup. Seeing Krum up close left Ron almost as awestruck as the Veela had earlier.

Although everyone in their group had rooted for the Irish team, the skilled play from both teams had been too riveting for anyone to feel too disappointed with the outcome.

Fred and George felt relieved they'd let themselves get talked out of the bet they'd planned to make, but regretted aloud not placing a bet based on Hermione's calculations, which had proved correct.

Hermione told them, "It feels that way now because you know what happened. Things could have gone a different way, like how you originally wanted to bet. Not betting at all was the right choice based on what you knew at the time."

"Yeah, so like I said," Ron declared, "Snitchomancy is useless."

"That's not what I'm saying. It doesn't let you conclude anything with certainty about a single match–it just gives probabilities of different outcomes. But over a whole season, the random factors tend to average out, so a team's management can use it to consider the bigger picture. If you insisted on using it for betting, you'd want to place lots of smaller bets throughout the season, and you'd need enough Galleons to handle lots of losses without going broke. Betting big on a single contest based on an Arithmantic prediction would be just plain reckless."

Harry joked, "Then I guess you won't be using it to place a bet on the outcome of my next encounter with Riddle?"

No one laughed. Ginny tightened her grip on his arm.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Hermione looked horrified, but then thoughtful. "First, let's all agree you're forbidden from facing Riddle ever again. You're going to let Professor Dumbledore and the other adults handle everything."

"Agreed," Sirius put in.

"Someone tell Riddle that," Harry grumbled.

"Having established that this is all hypothetical," Hermione pressed on, "if you couldn't avoid a confrontation, but you had some control over the circumstances, then maybe, in theory…"

"Merlin," Ron said. "Turning Quidditch into numbers is bad enough. Now you're thinking about using them to fight a Dark Lord? That's just mental."

"It's not mental," Hermione shot back. "At least in theory. Though to set up a manageable calculation, you'd need to minimize outside influences. Then it would be a matter of arranging a situation to pit Harry's strengths against Riddle's weaknesses. Finding approximations to make such calculations manageable is an active area of research."

"If you could really do that with it, you might be on to something there," Ron conceded.

Hermione blinked at him in surprise.

"What?" he asked. "It's good strategy. You see it in Quidditch, in chess… probably at the top levels in anything. All the top competitors are so good, it often comes down to who can shift the nature of a match to favor their strengths and take advantage of their opponent's weaknesses."

"I didn't realize you'd thought so much about this."

"What's surprising is that I'm the one explaining it to you. I picked up the idea from Muggle books by chess masters and sports trainers and the like. Haven't you read every Muggle book there is by now?"

"No one can read every book. The number of new ones published each year…" She trailed off when she noticed his smirk. "Ah. Funny. Can you recommend some of the better ones you've read?"

"Sure. I'll think about it, and write you a list."

"Thanks."

Back at their campsite, the discussion of the match continued over hot chocolate, though it was already quite late. Hermione often tuned out talk about Quidditch, but this time she paid attention, at least to the parts about what style of play different teams were best at. The conversation went on until the young people's eyelids began to droop, at which point everyone retired to their tents.

Ginny and Hermione had a smaller tent to themselves. They chatted quietly as they got ready for bed.

"So… Ron actually reads for pleasure?" Hermione asked.

"Sure–if it's a subject he cares about. You didn't know?"

"I know he's a fanatic about anything to do with chess and Quidditch of course, but I've looked through the books in his room at the Burrow. He has a few Quidditch books, but nothing on chess strategy or Muggle sports psychology."

"He borrows books from the Muggle library in the village. They can owl–er, send away for anything they don't have, however Muggles manage that. Mum isn't super keen on spending money on books not directly related to school or pursuing a respectable career."

Hermione fell silent, reeling with horror at the idea of having access to books limited in any way.

Taking her silence to mean they'd finished with the topic, Ginny asked, "Those Veela were really something, huh?"

"How do you mean?"

"You didn't think so?"

"Of course not. They only affect boys."

"What? Oh, the glamour they cast when they dance. No, I was talking about throwing fire with their bare hands. I wonder if I could learn to do that."

"Oh, right."

"Though Veela can affect witches too, you know. I don't mind admitting they gave me a tingle in some fun places. I'm just glad I wore a jumper, or the whole stadium might've seen my nips perking up."

"Yeah, can we not talk about this while we're changing?"

"Right, awkward, sorry… Cute knickers, by the way."

"Stop."

Ginny laughed.

Once they were both changed and in their beds, Hermione said, "If we're on the subject though, it seemed like Harry and Ron got caught in whatever enchantment the Veela were using, but managed to shake it off better than some others I saw. Especially Harry, though he's always had a strong will."

"Yeah. It could also be the Occlumency practice starting to pay off. It's supposed to help against all forms of mental influence."

"I hope they've kept up their practice over the summer. I hate having to nag them about things like that. I just can't understand anyone slacking off on learning how to protect yourself."

"I suppose it's easier to put the danger out of your mind than to live in constant fear. At least, if you've never experienced it yourself. You can never forget that."

Hermione gave her a sympathetic look. "Hearing about it from you was enough to convince me. Either way, if you make practice into a habit, you can do it almost automatically, without having to argue yourself into it every single time. I wish we had a place at Hogwarts where we could practice Occlumency and other Defense magic on a more regular basis."

"Yeah. Even if we aren't doing anything against the rules, it might be useful if no one knows we're learning to fight back better than anyone would expect. Every little bit of surprise edge counts. Speaking of which, I've been thinking about the Trace some more."

"What about it?"

"Even if you can manage a handful of wandless spells, a wand is always going to let you do more. I wonder if there's a way to break the Trace early?"

"We don't even know how it works."

"We know it ends when you turn seventeen. How much extra time do you think you spent by turning back for extra classes or to catch up on sleep?"

"I see where you're going with this, but it only added up to a couple of weeks over the course of the year. And you saw what the stress did to me, even with your help."

"A couple of weeks isn't much, but if someone used it in larger chunks of time, every day…"

"And mess up my circadian rhythms even more? No way."

"I meant you could loan it to me. If we time it right, it wouldn't be out of your hands for hardly any time at all. You wouldn't be breaking the rules in a way anyone would notice."

"Clever argument, but no. Using it enough to make a difference would be just as hard on you. Why would you want to do that to yourself? You saw what it did to me."

"I'm a year younger than Harry–almost two years behind you. When you all get free of the Trace, I'll be left behind. Again. Just like when Ron started Hogwarts and I had to wait another whole year. I'm sick of it."

"The only time the Trace matters is when we're home from school, which isn't that much of the year. And during those times, you still have wandless magic. Besides, in an emergency, you're allowed to use your wand to protect yourself, at any age."

"I'm just trying to make sure we're all as prepared as we can be."

"I agree in principle, but not like that. Besides, what if the Trace works based on calendar dates, rather than your personal experience of the passage of time? You'd end up wrecking your sleep, and probably health, for nothing."

Ginny sighed. "I guess. It just feels like we should be doing more. Do you really believe Arithmancy could help us find a way to beat Riddle?"

"I don't know. If Harry does wind up having to fight him again, we need to do better than just hoping some Deus Ex Machina bit of magic turns out in Harry's favor at the critical moment. It's worked for him so far, but counting on it to continue is not a proper plan."

"Uh… God from a machine?" Ginny translated. "I don't think I've heard of that spell."

"Not all Latin is magic. It's a term from Muggle theater. It means relying on tricks and coincidences to solve your problems."

"We can't afford to be too proud to take advantage of tricks and coincidences."

"I suppose not, but maybe we can figure out what we have to work with that's like that, and then make it happen right when it'll be most effective? I'm not even sure how to go about finding the pieces of the puzzle though, let alone how to put them together to form the best picture. Having more computing power would be a big help. It's a shame Muggle electronics don't work around magic."

"Why is that? Aren't electronics made of metal? The Hogwarts Express works fine. So do metal cars. My dad even added magical features to ours. Well, the one that was ours, until my idiot brother decided to fly it to school. If they'd just waited for someone to come get them and Apparate them, they might have made it back in time to see my Sorting."

"Fred and George made up for it by cheering extra loud for you."

Ginny snorted. "They'd have done that anyway."

Hermione said, "To answer your question, electronics are only partly metal. You're probably thinking of the wires, but the most important parts are the transistors, which aren't metal. Though I don't know why different materials would be more or less sensitive to magic. I wonder if anyone has studied the problem. Maybe a Muggle-born from the last decade or so who grew up around computers before going to Hogwarts?"

Ginny had no insight into this question, and both girls grew quiet as they started drifting off to sleep. Ginny joked in a drowsy voice, "It's too bad you can't make a computer that's all metal like a train… All aboard the Hermione Express."

Hermione sat upright in bed with a gasp.

Ginny, instantly alert, grabbed her wand from under her pillow and pointed it at the tent entrance as she sprang from her bed. "What? What is it?"

"I just got an idea!"

"What?"

"You reminded me of something–a machine I saw at the Science Museum in London. A different sort of computer, made entirely of metal. Where can I find an owl? I need to send my parents a letter."

"Now?"

"It could be important."

"Important now? Tonight?"

"Well… It would have to be more of a long-term project."

"Good night, Hermione," Ginny said grumpily, climbing back into bed.

Hermione said, "Good night. Sorry to startle you. I got excited by the idea."

"Hmph."

~*~

Ginny's father woke up the two witches while it was still dark. He told them to grab their wands, throw on clothes and shoes suitable for walking through the woods, and meet him outside as fast as they could. When they emerged from the tent, they found everyone else already dressed and waiting, wands drawn.

"There's some sort of riot happening," Mr Weasley told them. "Bill, Charlie, Percy and I are going to help the Ministry deal with it. The rest of you kids are going to go hide in the woods until this is over. Fred, George, you're in charge of keeping an eye on your younger brother and sister and our guests."

Arthur turned to Sirius. "Are you going with them or with us?"

Sirius turned towards the distant shouts and screams. His lip curled in an almost canine snarl, but he visibly forced down his anger and turned back to Arthur. "I won't leave Harry. Not again. Never again."

"Fair enough. You'll look after mine and Hermione, too? I'll feel better knowing they have at least one adult with them."

"Of course."

"Thank you. Remus?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a significant look.

Remus said, "I'm sticking with the kids too. We don't know what this is yet, but if there is a specific target…"

Arthur glanced at Harry and grimaced. "Right. We'll find you after everything is sorted." He turned to those sons who were going with him and said, "Come on, boys. Stick close to me, no matter what, unless I tell you to run away."

Arthur led them away in the direction of the panic.

Sirius said, "Alright, follow me, and stay together. If anyone gets separated, keep heading into the woods."

Harry said, "I don't need babysitters. You should go help. We all should. If we all go, you'll still be able to look after us."

"Now you're talking," Ginny said, as a burst of flame shot from her wand, scorching the ground at her feet. "Let's go light those fuckers up."

"Absolutely not!" Sirius said. "I know that urge, believe me. I feel it right now too. But I've seen where it leads. Harry, this whole summer, I've never tried to order you to do anything, but this is different. When it comes to an immediate threat to your safety, you will do as I say, or I'll stun you and carry you out of here."

Ginny shifted restlessly, but kept her wand pointed down, waiting to see what Harry would do.

Harry glared back at his godfather for a tense moment. "Fine. Let's go then."

They set off into the woods with Sirius in the lead and Remus bringing up the rear. The rest held onto each other as best they could, to avoid getting separated as they made their way among the frantic crowd surging through the trees.

They hadn't made it far when they ran into Draco Malfoy. Rather than sharing in the alarm of the fleeing people around them, he looked quite pleased.

Before he could speak, Sirius asked why he wasn't with his parents.

Draco shrugged. "Oh, I expect they're around here somewhere."

Sirius frowned. "Yes, I expect they are. Your father, in particular. Listen, Draco… When real trouble breaks out, you can get caught up in it in ways you didn't count on, even if you're sure you're on the winning side. You should stick with us until I can get you back to your mother."

Draco sneered. "I'll be fine, thanks," he said, before turning and walking away.

Remus said, "Some lessons have to be learned the hard way. We thought we knew everything at that age too."

Sirius grimaced. "We should keep moving."

As they made their way through the woods, they passed witches and wizards chattering urgently in a variety of languages, as well as small groups of Veela, leprechauns, or goblins. They saw Ludo Bagman on his own, apparently doing nothing to help the rest of the Ministry officials get the situation under control.

They encountered Winky trying and failing to flee, as though held by an invisible force. Hermione wanted to stop, but Remus told her they could do nothing to help while Winky was bound by her master's orders.

As they moved farther into the woods, the crowd began thinning out, and Sirius called a halt.

"What do you think?" he asked Remus. "Side-along them out one at a time?"

"Seems risky to split up. It'll be tricky to Apparate back to this exact spot for each pick-up. I don't know about you, but I'm disoriented from wandering around these woods in the dark. And that's assuming the rest of the group doesn't have to move in a hurry in the meantime. And that no one casts an Anti-Disapparition Jinx."

"Right. If this is who we think, that was one of their favorite tricks back in the day."

"Or the Ministry might cast it to try to trap them."

"I guess we stick it out here then."

"That's my vote."

Just then, a voice nearby called out, "Morsmordre!" and a giant green skull with a serpent for a tongue appeared glowing in the sky.

Sirius and Remus gasped in horror, and hurried to place themselves between the children and the direction the spell had come from, pointing their wands into the darkness.

"Not again," Sirius said, his voice heavy. "It's all starting again."

"We'll get through it," Remus told him.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "What does it mean?"

"Death," Sirius answered. "Murder."

At that moment, the woods lit up red with a massive volley of spells.

"Those were Stunning Spells," Remus said. "Not typical for Death Eaters. Must be the Ministry."

"Arthur?" Sirius risked calling out.

"Sirius?" came the reply. "We're coming your way. Don't curse us."

"We won't."

They heard people crashing through the woods. Arthur emerged, his eyes darting around the group. Bill, Charlie, and Percy followed close behind, and took in everyone's faces with a similar urgency.

"Thank goodness," Arthur said, sweeping up his four youngest children, trying to wrap his arms around them all. "I saw the Dark Mark, and I thought…"

"Dad, we're fine," Ron objected.

"You're not old enough to remember," Bill told him in a subdued tone. "The Death Eaters used to cast the Dark Mark after they killed someone. Sometimes whole families."

Their reunion was interrupted when Barty Crouch, Amos Diggory, and several other wizards emerged from the woods, wands drawn.

"Black!" Crouch yelled, pointing his wand at Sirius. "I knew it! I knew I couldn't have been so wrong about you!"

"What are you talking about, you maniac?" Sirius snarled back at him.

"The Dark Mark! You won't talk your way out of it this time!"

"Barty, be reasonable!" Arthur said, stepping between Crouch and Sirius. "You were there for Pettigrew's interrogation. Besides, Sirius has spent the entire summer looking after Harry Potter. If he was on the wrong side, he's had ample opportunity to act on it."

Crouch peered at Harry. "I want their wands checked."

Amos Diggory and two other wizards went around and cast Prior Incantato on each wand. The rather aggressive fire spell Ginny had cast earlier raised some eyebrows, but it hadn't been an illegal curse. Their wand histories showed no one else had cast anything out of the ordinary.

Only then did Crouch listen to what everyone had been trying to explain about where the Dark Mark had actually come from. This turned out to be right around the same place where Crouch and the others had fired off their volley of Stunning Spells, in response to a noise they'd heard.

The Ministry wizards headed back that way to investigate further, but Arthur asked Bill and Charlie to stay with the rest of the group. Only Percy went along, as a Ministry employee himself.

Bill told everyone what was happening with the riot. The good news was they hadn't seen anyone hurt too badly. What injuries there were had come from people getting caught in the panic, rather than Dark curses. The bad news was the press of the crowd had prevented the Ministry officials from reaching the rioters before they fled upon seeing the Dark Mark.

"Why would Death Eaters run from their own symbol?" Hermione asked.

"The only Death Eaters still walking around free are those who renounced You-Know-Who, one way or another," Bill explained. "Either they turned against each other and gave names, or they claimed they were under the Imperius and never willingly followed him. And their master had a reputation for not looking kindly on disloyalty."

"Then whoever cast it…" Hermione said.

"Must be someone who stayed loyal and doesn't fear what it represents," finished Remus.

Ron said, "At least we have Percy's fantastic boss here to keep us safe. That guy's a real piece of work."

Bill said, "The Dark Mark is no joke, Ron. Crouch could have handled things better, but everyone is on edge after seeing it go up. I've never seen a look on dad's face like when he saw the Mark, and thought something might have happened to our family. And I hope I never do again."

As everyone looked up at the Dark Mark and absorbed the news of an unknown loyal Death Eater still on the loose, Arthur emerged from the woods again, looking grim. "Come on. Let's head back to the campsite."

"Did they catch who cast it?" Sirius asked.

"No. All they found was Barty's house-elf. Barty started ranting and accusing her of using elf magic to cast the Dark Mark, of all things."

"A house-elf Death Eater?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Has Crouch finally lost it completely?"

"Barty was always… zealous in his duties, but he was never the same after that business with his son." He looked back towards the woods. "He's not the man I would have chosen for Percy to work for, but it's Percy's choice to make."

"Are we waiting for Percy to join us?" Remus asked.

"No. They're going to do a quick sweep through the woods to make sure no one fell and twisted an ankle and got stranded. He'll meet us back at the campsite. I made him promise not to go off alone anywhere."

Harry said, "Wait, go back a second. What happened to Crouch's son?"

Mr Weasley said, "As cruel as this must sound, Crouch oversaw the trial that sent his own son to Azkaban."

"What?"

"Not here," Sirius interrupted. "We'll answer your questions, but let's get out of these woods first. We don't know for sure if all the rioters fled, or where the wizard who cast the Dark Mark ended up."

"Wait!" Hermione objected. "What's going to happen to Winky?"

Arthur shook his head. "Amos questioned her. Everyone knows she couldn't have cast the Mark, including Barty, but he was furious with her for leaving his tent. He freed her."

"But that's good."

"I'm afraid most elves don't see it that way. Winky certainly didn't."

Hermione turned, trying to peer through the woods.

Arthur told her, "She'll be okay, if unhappy with her lot. House-elves can provide for themselves. They just don't enjoy being on their own, with no work to do. She'll probably make her way to Hogwarts, once she accepts her new status. There's nothing we can do to force the issue."

Hermione frowned, but since Winky seemed to be in no immediate jeopardy, she agreed to return to the campsite.

Their tents had escaped getting trampled during the riot, which made them more fortunate than many others. After a brief, subdued conversation about the night's events and the history required to understand their significance, Mr Weasley insisted the young people head off to bed, as morning was fast approaching, and they would need to be ready to catch an early Portkey back to Ottery St Catchpole.

Ginny hadn't looked at her father once while he told the story of Bartemius Crouch, the Ministry official who'd sent his own child to Azkaban, after learning that child had fallen into darkness.

Her father had noticed. When she stood up with everyone else to retire to the tents, she tried to slip past him, but he caught her and gave her a long hug.