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Slytherin Harry and The Goblet of Fire Part 2

The Weasley’s home was just as alive and full of magic as it had been, though two new faces greeted him.

“How are you doing?” said a red head Harry hadn’t met before. The man grinned and held out a rough, large hand. Ah, thought Harry, this had to be Charlie, Ron’s brother from Romania. He had a broad, good natured face which was weather beaten and so freckly he almost looked tan, but it was the large burn on his muscular arm that tipped Harry off the most.

Next, Bill, the other brother, got to his feet smiling. Harry knew from Ron that Bill worked for the Wizarding Bank Gringotts, and that Bill had been Head Boy at Hogwarts, but where Harry had always thought Bill would be just an older version of Ron’s other brother Percy, fussy and law abiding, Bill Weasley looked down right illegal.

He was tall, like Ron, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an ear ring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. He looked like he had just come from a rock concert, with leather, no, dragon hide boots, too.

Just then, a flurry of sparks burst into the room.

“What was that?” Harry asked.

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes,” said Ron, clapping Harry firmly on the shoulder. The twins came into the room next. “Our newest invention,” they said together.

“Yeah,” said Ginny Weasley. “Who knew all those noises and explosions coming from their room were actually leading up to something.”

“And not just fireworks,” said Fred.

“But all sorts,” said George. “Prank wands, trick sweets.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said amazed. Percy came over then and shook Harry’s hand before skiving off to finish some very important work.

“He’s enjoying the new job then?”

“Enjoying it,” said Ron darkly. “I don’t reckon he’d come home if Dad didn’t make him. He’s obsessed. Just don’t get him talking about Crouch.”

“Yeah,” said George. “They’ll be announcing the engagement any day now.”

“A Minister’s husband, we couldn’t be more proud,” said Fred, making cow eyes in the direction Percy had gone.

Mrs. Weasley moved into the kitchen after greeting Harry and offering him some food. “Have a bite dear, I just need to finish the rest then we’ll be ready to eat.”

“Are you staying for dinner, Remus?” she asked.

“Can’t, Molly, but thank you, you know how Sirius gets.”

“How is he?” Harry asked. “He sounded good in his last letter.”

Remus smiled, the one he seemed to only have when he thought of Sirius.

“He’s becoming a barrister apparently. He’s been studying the law and writing letters to send to everyone he can find to see if he can expedite his case. He wants to have you with him as soon as possible.”

“I want that too,” said Harry. “But you guys will be home soon, and I can come see you.”

“Of course,” said Remus. “We’ve already received partial free hours with Arthur’s help so that we can come here some days to see you. And of course, you can always come over ours. We may have to employ some non-magical means as to stay off the radar. But Sirius can’t wait to see you.”

“Tell him that I feel the same,” Harry said as he walked Remus out of the house.

“And thanks for coming and getting me today.”

“I wish I could have come sooner,” said Remus, looking regretful. “Your cousin will be alright by the way. It’s a simple charm. He should be back to normal by now, in case you were wondering.”

And before Harry could tell him that he hadn’t been wondering.

“It’s okay, Harry, wanting the best for family doesn’t stop just because they don’t want the same for you. It’s engrained in us to want good things for family and to want them to love us back.”

Harry nodded, but he didn’t want to think about it.

Then, Remus touched his shoulder.

“But family comes in many different boxes, and I want you to know that you have a family, families actually, and that we all love you and want the best for you and we want you to know that we care.”

Harry smiled.

“Even if that means blowing up someone’s fireplace?”

Remus laughed, looking younger in his joy.

“Yes,” said Remus, chuckling. “Even if it means blowing up someone’s cousin.”

NEXT CHAPTER

After explaining the concept of a portkey they began their climb up Stoatshead Hill. Harry couldn’t ever say that he was in shape, but after a summer of being ignored and locked away in his room, this time his choice, he was more out of it than normal and the climb was taking its toll on him. When Harry made it up the hill he saw Mr. Weasley shaking hands with a ruddy looking wizard with a scrubby brown beard who was holding a moldy looking old boot in his hand.

“This is Amos Diggory everyone,” Mr. Weasley introduced. “He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son Cedric?”

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was also Hufflepuff’s seeker and Captain. After everyone said, “Hi,” Amos Diggory asked good naturedly, “All these yours then, Arthur?”

“Oh no, only the redheads,” said Mr. Weasley. “This is Hermione, friend of Ron’s and Harry, another friend.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Amos Diggory said, his eyes widening. “Harry? Harry Potter?”

“Er…yeah,” said Harry, feeling a little uncomfortable with all the attention. “Ced’s talked about you of course,” said Amos Diggory.

Really, thought Harry.

“Yeah, he told us all about playing against you.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, breaking into the other man’s litany. “Well your son’s a great flier sir.”

Amos Diggory looked pleased and Harry thanked Pansy for that little piece of advice. People always like to talk about themselves and a change of subject was only as far away as you could bring up their child or ex. And Amos Diggory did just that until they were surrounding the boot and the portkey activated.

The campsite was amazing. Harry had rarely seen so much magic or so many wizards in one place with the exception of Hogwarts. Mr. Weasley sent Ron, Hermione, and Harry off on an errand. On their way back they ran into Seamus Finnigan. They had wandered into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth.

“Like the decorations?” said Seamus grinning. “The Ministry’s not happy.”

“Just showing some pride,” said Dean Thomas, their classmate and Seamus’s best friend. Seamus clasped Dean on the back and Dean smiled at him good naturedly. Seamus gave Dean a bright smile in return, looking at his best friend like he was a member of Ireland’s team.

“Right-o, Thomas,” he said.

The trio after giving vows of loyalty to Ireland set off to investigate the other team’s side: Bulgaria.

There, each and every tent was adorned with the image of Viktor Krum.

“He looks really grumpy,” said Harry, looking at the boy’s surly face and heavy black brows. “Really grumpy?” Ron raised his eyes to the Heavens. “Who cares what he looks like? He’s unbelievable. He’s really young, too. He’s a genius, you’ll see.”

After getting the water, they met up with a few more familiar faces. Oliver Wood spotted Ron’s red head, and mistaking him briefly for one of the twins stopped and pulled him into a quick conversation. He had made the Puddlemere Untied Quidditch team and Harry felt happy for him. Wood was a good player. He knew from last year that Flint had made Bulgaria, he doubted that he would be playing tonight but he was still happy for his former Captain.

“There you are,” said an all too familiar voice.

Harry turned around to see his old Captain coming up behind the trio, eyes only for Oliver Wood.

“I said to meet me by the gate three minutes ago, Wood.” The man looked like he had last year. Large, burly, with a no nonsense air about him, and that tone in his voice that said that Harry…no Wood, this time, would be running extra laps.

Flint reached Wood then finally noticed the three people Wood had just been talking to.

“Potter? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve just come to see the match,” Harry said. “With the Weasleys. We were just getting water when��”

“Great news,” said Flint, cutting him off. “Now, can we get going Wood, or do you wanna keep chatting with the third years instead of meeting the Bulgarian team?”

Wood looked at Ron like Flint had somehow just announced that Wood was about to give Flint top secret Quidditch secrets, but then he said, “It’s just to gather intel, Flint, you do remember that right?”

“Right, right,” said Flint unflinching. Then under his breath, “Intel on how thick Krum’s broomstick is.”

Harry nearly choked. Flint patted him on the back, said cheerily, “Nice to see you, Potter, mess up my team while I’m gone and I will find you.” Then walked away with Wood following quickly at his footsteps, keeping up their argument about intel verses waxing brooms.

They passed Ernie Macmillian who still flinched slightly when he saw Harry, heir of Slytherin or not, but always made an effort to wave regardless. Ernie was normally okay after the first bout of boasting passed his mouth. Still, they didn’t stay long.

They also passed Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played seeker for Ravenclaw. She waved and smiled at Harry and as Harry raised his hand to wave back, water splashed all over his front as Millicent clapped him hard on the back.

“Oi, Potter, try not to dribble, yeah?”

“Millicent!” he said, throwing himself at her, and nearly dropping the water all together.

Millicent hugged him back just as hard as he hugged her, but then pulled away like it was all Harry’s idea. She looked the same as ever, perhaps a little bit taller, but still broad around the shoulders. Millicent would never be a small girl, but to Harry she was the most wonderful bit of magic he had seen all day. She looked healthy, her skin tanner than normal because of the summer. Her hair had grown back, and she was now wearing it in a longer, slightly tousled way that framed her round face nicely.

“Granger,” she greeted and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. “Got your letter, nice of you to tell me that you were staying with the Weasleys. I recognized it for the cry of help that it was and have come to rescue you.”

“Ha, Ha, Bulstrode,” said Ron.

“Oh Weasley, sorry I didn’t see you there,” said Millicent. “Though perhaps I thought you were one of those floating Muggle contraptions that they use to attract the attention of feeble minds at automobile parks. It’s the red, is all.”

Ron rolled his eyes, but Harry could see that he was holding back a small laugh.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you liked Quidditch,” Harry asked.

“I don’t,” said Millicent. “But events like this are equally about the connections and esteem as they are about the actual game.”

Ron looked at her blankly.

“Meeting people,” elaborated Millicent. “Haven’t you noticed all of the different wizards here, from all over the country? My father knows a good investment opportunity when he sees one. He might be a barrister by title, but his heart runs gold.”

Harry nodded. He had seen the influx of different wizards. He had heard a group of kids their age speaking French not a few moments ago.

After agreeing that Millicent would come back to the camp ground with them, Harry and the group started to make their way back.

Mr. Weasley was having quite the time lighting a fire, so Hermione quickly stepped in and showed him the correct way to not scald himself.

Millicent shoved her way into the tent past a surprised looking Fred singing Ginny’s name. Fred quickly followed her back into the tent though he was just saying something about taking a walk around with George.

Then Harry noticed that someone else was standing by the fire.

“Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is. He’s the one we’ve to thank for getting us such good tickets….”

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes he was wearing stretched taut around his belly that he surely had not had when he had played for England.

Bagman waved his hand as if to say the tickets had been nothing.

“Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?” he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be large amounts of gold in his pockets.

Mr. Weasley bowed out, not eager to get on Mrs. Weasley’s bad side. Harry couldn’t blame him. Then the twins stepped up.

“We’ll take your bet,” they said in unison as they came back outside. “We have 20……… that Ireland will win, but that Krum will catch the snitch.”

“Now, boys!” chided Mr. Weasley, still looking as if Mrs. Weasley was going to pop out and catch him at any moment. “You’ve worked hard for that money. You shouldn’t risk it.”

“Now, come on Arthur, it’s their money, let the boys do as they please.”

“And girl,” said Millicent, walking up and handing some money to Bagman.

“Ms. Bulstrode,” he greeted happily. “And what would you like to bet.”

Millicent smiled, looking as if she was going Bagman a favor by having her cater to his bet. “What they said,” she gestured to the twins.

Bagman looked like he wanted to warn her off such a bet, but she said, “I’m sure,” then disappeared back into the tent.

“Yeah, dad,” said Fred. “If Bulstrode can handle it then I think we’ve got this.”

“ Yeah, don’t worry, Dad,” said George.

“Absolutely not. If your mother finds out she’ll…”

“Okay,” said Bagman, but added a conspiratorial wink in the twin’s direction when Mr. Weasley wasn’t looking.

“Have you seen Crouch?” Bagman then asked.

“Mr. Crouch?” said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and exchanging it for a look that was positively writhing with excitement.

“Yes,” said Bagman. “The man knows over two hundred languages, and I really need him to help me with a troll delegate right about now, but I seem to have lost him.”

Bagman looked around, and shrugged.

“Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“No, though being as forgetful as she is she’ll probably wonder back in October sometime thinking it’s still July.”

“Someone should be sent to look for her,” said Mr. Weasley. “She’s been gone quite a….”

With a snap, like a quick change in subject, Barty Crouch apparated in. Looking rather stiff and uptight, the elderly man was dressed impeccably in a crisp suit and tie. His hair and mustache neat and trimmed perfectly. He shoes were polished to shine. Harry could see why Percy idolized him.

“Some tea, sir?” Percy offered.

“Oh,” said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. “Yes….thank you, Weatherby.”

Fred and George choked into their cups. Percy went very pink around the ears, but busied himself with the kettle as Crouch bid a curt farewell to Mr. Weasley then left with Bagman to meet with the delegate.

&&&

Mr. Weasley was right, they did have good seats. They were close to the Minister himself, and Millicent and her family. Harry waved at her, and noticed the rather similar looking but older girl sitting beside Millicent looking bored even with all the excitement in the air.

Harry sat and looked in front of him.

“Dobby?” said Harry, incredulously. The house elf turned slightly, and Harry realized his mistake.

“Sorry, I just through that you were someone I knew.”

“But I know Dobby too, sir,” squeaked the elf. “My name is Winky, sir, and you, sir. You is surely Harry Potter.”

“Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

“Dobby is a always talking about you Harry Potter, sir, he says that you are the greatest wizard to ever live, sir. And that you are brave and good, sir. But Dobby isn’t here, sir, and he wouldn’t be up this high either unless maybe you asked him, sir. Dobby would do it for you. Dobby is quite fond of you, though he is getting wilder and wilder. Out there with no family to serve and doing whatever he likes…being downright bawdy.”

“He’s just having a little bit of fun,” said Harry. “House elves is not supposed to have fun Harry Potter,” said Winky. “House elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter,” she glanced towards the edge of the box and gulped---“, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir, to save his seat. Winky is a good house elf, Harry Potter, sir.”

“So you found someone to consort with even lower than the Weasleys did you, Potter?” drawled the voice that haunts Harry’s dreams.

“Only when I have to share a room with you, Malfoy.”

Harry could hear Draco roll his eyes.

“Enough Draco, your mother is waiting,” said another familiar holier than thou voice: Lucius Malfoy.

Harry watched as the blonde and his father walked away, looking up for the first time to see that like he had, Malfoy had shot up quite a few inches over the summer. Whatever, Harry thought, his face is probably still as pointy as ever. He was still a git, just maybe a taller git.

Then the show began, and Ireland rained gold from the skies as Harry and Ron watched from Omnioculars.

Harry looked down at the field as dancers made their way to the center of the pitch. Music started and they started to dance. “Veela,” Harry heard someone say in an awed tone. Harry didn’t know what the big deal was, until he started to watch them. Ron nearly bumped him out his seat in an attempt to get closer to the creatures on the field.

Harry’s own mind started to go blank. The Veelas skin was moon white, their hair white gold. The nagging suspicion that the Veelas white blonde hair reminded him of someone kept Harry mostly sane while George looked like he was about to follow Ron over the edge. And before Harry could remember who they reminded him of or follow the others, they stopped.

Ron looked like he had been abruptly woken from a vivid dream while Fred like Harry, merely looked a little dazed. Malfoy further down the aisle looked as if he hadn’t been affected at all. Harry wondered at that before he saw Draco remove something from his ears.

Millicent eyed Harry wearily as if to make sure that he was alright, and motioned to Fred and George, George of who was nearly passed out on the ground. Harry laughed as George’s more together brother tapped him on the cheeks lightly to spur him from the stupor the Veelas’ dance had put him in.

&&&

The game was amazing. Ireland had won. Bagman announced the ending of the match. “Krum may have caught the snitch, but team Ireland are the winners!!!” Then after removing the sonorous from this voice. He said a little hoarsely, “They’ll be talking about this one for years.”

“A really unexpected twist that… shame it couldn’t have lasted longer….Ah, yes… yes, I owe you.. how much?” he asked, as Fred and George had just scrambled over the back of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

&&&

“The Ireland supporters are really going at it, huh?” asked Fred as the group plus Millicent walked back to the camp. Ginny and Millicent were singing Irish folk songs with George as accompaniment. Ron was still going on about the beauty that is Krum in motion when they entered the tent and Harry heard a particularly loud explosion of fireworks before Mr. Weasley rushed into the tent.

“Kids, now!” he says in a tone Harry had never heard from the older man before.

The group rushes outside. “Dad, it’s just the Irish,” said Fred.

“It’s not the Irish!” said Mr. Weasley panicked. Then the sight before Harry’s eyes changed. No longer were the screams he was hearing those of triumphant joy, or the shouting that of congratulations, but of terror. The fireworks that Harry thought were going off in the distance were no longer bright lights in the sky, but light from wands that were exploding tents in the distance.

They were under attack.

“Fred, George, take Ginny and go that way, we need to meet at the portkey. We need to help the Ministry.”

People were running everywhere as Bill, Charlie, and Percy took off with Mr. Weasley in the direction the ministry officials were gathering against the threat. Millicent gave Ginny Weasley a panicked once over before joining in beside her, Fred had one of Ginny’s hands and Millicent the other as George held his wand out, cast Lumos, and started to lead them back to the hill.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron followed in behind them, but as people rushed past, the two groups got further and further separated from one another. As the group got further away from the explosions and the subsequent fires, the woods started to grow darker, and quickly the two groups lost one another.

Harry was about to demand that they all link hands so that he didn’t lose either of them when he heard Ron yelp in pain.

“What happened?” said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. She illuminated her wand.

“Tripped over a tree root,” Ron said, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“Well, with feet that size it’d be hard not to,” said a drawling voice from behind them.

Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree looking utterly relaxed. Ron uttered a particularly nasty word in the English language, but Malfoy only laughed.

“Oh, Weasley, hadn’t you better be hurrying along now,” said Malfoy, as he refused to address Harry directly since Harry had snubbed him in the booth. “You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Hermione.

“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around…they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”

“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled.

“Have it your own way, Potter,” said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. “If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay were you are.”

“You watch your mouth!” shouted Ron.

“Don’t mind him, Ron,” said Hermione, seizing Ron’s arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Draco.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard that night. Several people screamed nearby. Malfoy chuckled softly, but Harry heard the shaky quality it held.

“Scare easily, don’t they?” he said loudly. “I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to----trying to rescue the Muggles?”

“And where are your parents?” said Harry, his temper rising. “Out there wearing masks, like real heroes?”

“If they were I wouldn’t likely tell you, would I? But there’s no need to ask where your parents are?”

Harry just rolled his eyes. He knew now what his parents died for. And now that he had Sirius and Remus, Harry would never forget what his parents had done for their world.

“Let’s go,” said Hermione, “We need to find the others.”

“Keep that big, bushy head down Granger,” Malfoy sneered, but Hermione looked as over Malfoy and his taunts as Harry was.

The trio set out on the path again to find the others.

“I’ll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!” said Ron.

“Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch them,” said Hermione fervently.

Hermione scanned the forest, but Fred, George, Millicent, and Ginny were nowhere to be found. The forest was packed with other people, just not the people that they were looking for. They encountered a group of teenagers arguing in what Harry thought was French. Hermione mentioned that they must be students from Beauxbatons, another wizarding school.

“Oh…yeah…..right,” said Harry.

“Fred and George can’t have gone that far,” said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione’s, and squinting up the path. Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand….but it wasn’t here. Only his Omnioculars.

“Ah, no,” Millicent was never going to let him live this down. “I’ve lost my wand!”

“You’re kidding!” Hermione and Ron scolded in unison, like two very upset parents who were very disappointed in their child.

“Maybe its back in the tent?” offered Ron, after they had searched the immediate area.

“Or it fell out of your pocket when we were running.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Maybe…”

Then a rustling in the woods drew their attention, and Winky the house elf made her way into their field of vision.

“There is bad wizards about!” she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. It looked as if she had just escaped some invisible force instead of a thorny bush. “People high…high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!”

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that seemed to be restraining her.

“What’s up with her?” said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. “Why can’t she run properly?”

“Bet she didn’t ask permission to hide,” said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby and the way that he would have to beat himself up anytime he did something that he knew the Malfoy’s wouldn’t like. And before an argument could break out between Hermione and Ron that Harry would be forced to join, they set off once again.

They followed the path deeper into the woods, passing Goblins and wizards who were spouting nonsense. Harry saw Stan Shunpike, from the Knight Bus, before he, Hermione, and Ron ducked into a clearing. Hermione was just saying something when she broke off abruptly. Harry and Ron turned around and looked too. It sounded like someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

“Hello?” called Harry tentatively.

There was silence.

Harry got to his feet and peered around a tree. He was about to ask, “Who’s there?” when without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell and a battle cry.

“MORSMORDRE!”

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry’s eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

“What the…?” gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

For a split second, Harry thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then he realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly the world erupted into screams, but when Harry looked back to see the person who had conjured the skull, he was gone.

“Who’s there?” he called.

“Harry, come on, move!” Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

“What’s the matter?” Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

“It’s the Dark Mark, Harry!” Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. “You-Know-Who’s sign!”

“Voldemort’s……”

“Harry, come on!”

Harry turned before a series of popping noises filled his ears. Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: They were surrounded, and each of the twenty or so wizards that had appeared out of thin air had their wands pointed right at them.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, “DUCK!”

He grabbed the other two and pulled them to the ground.

“STUPEFY!” roared twenty voices….there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. “STOP!” yelled a voice he recognized. “STOP! That’s my son!”

Harry’s hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.

“Ron…Harry…” his voice was shaky….”Hermione…are you all right?”

“Out of the way, Arthur,” said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch’s face was taut with rage.

“Which of you did it?” he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. “Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?”

“We didn’t do that!” said Harry.

“We didn’t do anything!” said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow. “What did you want to attack us for?”

“Do not lie, sir!” shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping….he looked slightly mad. “You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!”

“Barty,” whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, “they’re kids, Barty, they’d never have been able to….”

“Where did the Mark come from, you three?” said Mr. Weasley quickly, jumping on the pause in Crouch’s allegations.

“Over there,” said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. “There was someone behind the trees….they shouted words…an incantation…” Crouch seemed to doubt Hermione’s words, but none of the other Ministry wizards apart from him seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione’s words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

“We’re too late,” said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. “They’ll have Disapparated.”

“I don’t think so,” said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father. “Our Stunners went right through those trees….There’s a good chance we got them….”

“Amos, be careful!” said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. When he appeared once again, he was dragging something or someone along with him.

It was Winky. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

“This….cannot…be,” he said jerkily. “No…..”

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

“No point, Mr. Crouch,” Mr. Diggory called after him. “There’s no one else there.”

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around.

“Bit embarrassing,” Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky’s unconscious form. “Barty Crouch’s house elf…. I mean to say….”

“Come off it, Amos,” said Mr. Weasley quietly. “you don’t seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark’s a wizard sign. It requires a wand.”

“Yeah,” said Mr. Diggory. “and she had a wand.”

Ludo Bagman showed up to make matters even more colorful.

“But she couldn’t have done that, she would have needed a wand.”

“She did, and I think we should hear what she has to say for herself.” Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, “Rennervate!”

Winky stirred freely. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way.

“Elf!” said Mr. Diggory sternly. “Do you know who I am? I’m a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!”

Winky began to sob, rocking herself backward and forward on the ground in what Harry recognized as a self-soothing gesture. He was reminded forcefully of his own past.

“As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,” said Mr. Diggory. “And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!”

“I….I….I is not doing it, sir!” Winky gasped. “I is not knowing how, sir!”

“You were found with a wand in your hand!” barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as he did, Harry knew where his wand had went.

“That’s mine!” he said.

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

“Excuse me?” said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

“That’s my wand!” said Harry. “I dropped it!”

“You dropped it?” repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. “Is that a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Dark Mark?”

“Amos, think who you’re talking to?” said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. “Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?”

“Of course not,” the zealous man seemed to concede. “Sorry…carried away….”

“I didn’t drop it there, anyway,” said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. “I missed it right after we got into the woods.”

“So,” said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. “You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you’d have some fun with it, did you?”

“I is not doing magic with it, sir!” squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. “I is…I is…I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!”

“It wasn’t her!” said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. “Winky’s got a squeaky voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper! It didn’t sound anything like Winky did it?”

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It definitely didn’t sound like an elf.”

“Yeah, it was a human voice,” said Ron.

“Well, we’ll soon see,” growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. “There’s a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?”

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory placed his wand against the tip of Harrys.

“Prior Incantato!” roared Mr. Diggory.

It was the Dark Mark.

“I is not doing it!” Winky squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. “I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn’t using wands, I is not knowing how!”

“You’ve been caught red handed elf!” Mr. Diggory roared, though Harry knew that he knew her name. “Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!”

“Amos,” said Mr. Weasley loudly, “think about it…precious few wizards know how to do that spell…Where would she have learned it?”

“Perhaps Amos is suggesting,” said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable. “that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?”

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. “Mr. Crouch…not….not at all…..”

“You have now come very close to accusing two people in this clearing who are the least likely to conjure that Mark!” barked Mr. Crouch. “Harry Potter….and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the boy’s story, Amos?”

“Of course…everyone knows….,” muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

“And you are aware of my own history, and that I detest anything tied to the Dark Arts.”

“Yes….b….”

“And I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her.”

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn’t think much of that suggestion at all, but it was clear even to Harry that Mr. Diggory fell lower in the hierarchy at the Ministry than Mr. Crouch did.

“You may rest assured that she will be punished,” Mr. Crouch added coldly.

“M-m-master…”Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mmmmaster, please.”

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

“Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible,” he said slowly. “I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes.”

“No!” shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch’s feet. “No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!”

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch’s feet.

“But she was frightened!” Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. “Your elf’s scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can’t blame her for wanting to get out of their way!”

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

“I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me,” he said coldly.

Mr. Weasley got Harry’s wand back and excused them.

“What’s going to happen to Winky?” said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Weasley.

“The way they were treating her!” said Hermione furiously. “Mr. Diggory, calling her ‘elf’ all the time…and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn’t do it and he’s still going to sack her! He didn’t care how frightened she’d been, or how upset she was…it was like she wasn’t even human!”

“Well, she’s not,” said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

“That doesn’t mean she hasn’t got feelings, Ron. It’s disgusting the way…”

“Hermione, I agree with you,” said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, “and you’ll find that many others do as well. But now we need to get back to the tent and see if we can find the others.

“We lost them in the dark,” said Ron. “Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?”

“I’ll explain everything back at the tent,” said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, they were stopped by a large group of anxious looking people.

“What’s going on in there?” they asked Mr. Weasley.

“Who conjured it?”

“Arthur…it’s not…Him?”

“Of course it’s not Him,” said Mr. Weasley impatiently. “We don’t know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, I want to get to bed.”

He led Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie’s head was poking out of the boy’s tent. “Where are….”

“I’ve got them here,” said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent to see Fred, George, Millicent, and Ginny waiting for them.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred and George looked unhurt though shaken. Ginny was sitting near Millicent and the two looked shocked by what they had gone through.

“Did you get them, Dad?” said Bill sharply. “The person who conjured the Mark?”

“No,” said Mr. Weasley. “We found Barty Crouch’s elf holding Harry’s wand, but we’re none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark.”

“What?” said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together. “Harry’s wand?” said Millicent.

“Mr. Crouch’s elf?” said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance form Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

“Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!” he said. “Running away when he’d expressly told her not to…embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry…how would that have looked, if she’d been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control….”

“She didn’t do anything…she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!” Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy better, indeed, than any of the others.

“Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch’s position can’t afford a house-elf who’s going to run amok with a wand!” said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

“She didn’t run amok!” shouted Hermione. “She just picked it up off the ground!”

“Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?” said Ron impatiently. “It wasn’t hurting anyone…Why’s it such a big deal?”

“I told you, it’s You-Know-Who’s symbol, Ron,” said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. “I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.”

“And it hasn’t been seen for thirteen years,” said Mr. Weasley quietly. “Of course people panicked…it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again.”

“I still don’t…”

“Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed,” said Mr. Weasley. “The terror it inspired…you have no idea, you’re too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house and knowing what you’re about to find inside….” Mr. Weasley winced. “Everyone’s worst fear….the very worst….”

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut said, “Well, it didn’t help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we’d got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Roberts’ before they hit the ground, though. They’re having their memories modified right now.”

“Death Eaters?” said Harry. “What are Death Eaters?”

“It’s what You-Know-Who’s supporters called themselves,” said Bill. “I think we saw what’s left of them tonight…the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban anyway.”

“We can’t prove it was them, Bill. Though you’re probably right.”

“Yeah, I bet it was,” said Ron suddenly. “Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks. And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!”

“But what’s the point?” asked Harry. “Levitating Muggles… I mean?”

“That’s their idea of fun,” said Mr. Weasley. “Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn’t resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,” he finished disgustedly.

“But why did they disapparate then?” asked Ron.

“Use your brains, Ron,” said Bill. “If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they’d be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied that they’d ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives….I don’t reckon he’d be over-pleased with them, do you?”

No, Harry thought. He didn’t think Voldemort would be pleased at all.

***

The rest of the summer went by in a calmer manner. They got their books, played Quidditch, and Harry ate more food than he thought he could hold. The only majorly exciting thing had something to do with a wizard named Mad-Eye Moody. Mr. Weasley and Amos Diggory had rushed to take care of that matter. Then before Harry knew it, it was time to board the Hogwarts Express.

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King’s Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fred told Percy. Then to George he said, “I think their having a lover’s tiff?”

“I agree,” said George. “If my lover forgot my name I’d be quite miffed myself.”

“Oh, poor boy,” Fred said, gazing after Percy’s retreating form as he hurried to get ready for work.

Millicent met them at the station. She was waiting for them as they went through the barrier.

“Wow!” she said when she saw them. “Ginny, I never would have guessed you were hiding that in your family tree,” Millicent said as she eyed Charlie as he lifted Ginny’s trunk onto the train.

Ginny laughed at her.

“Charlie’s not that great. He volunteered to help me pack my trunk…it took two hours, Millicent, TWO hours!” Ginny bewailed.

“That’s fine, Ginny, I like a thorough man.”

“Ugggh,” Fred gagged as he had caught wind of their conversation. Millicent merely blew him a kiss. And though George got on the train to save their seats, Fred had quite the time trying to get his trunk on the train until it was time for everyone to say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Charlie,” said Millicent in an over dramatized fashion.

“See you, Bulstrode, I’ll send you that book we talked about soon.”

“Great,” she said, flashing the dragon tamer a bright smile.

“Yeah,” said Fred, clasping Charlie hard on the shoulder. “Send her that book on dragon grooming, she really needs to get those scales under control,” he said before boarding the train. Millicent scowling at his back.

“Bye, Charlie, I’ll miss you,” said Ginny.

“Ah, don’t worry, Gin,” Charlie said. “I might be seeing you sooner than you think.”

After quite a few more intriguing and frustrating hints about what was in store for them this year, they boarded the train. Millicent, Ron, Harry, and Hermione ducked into a compartment and Hermione held her hand to her mouth, “Shh,” she whispered suddenly.

They listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

“Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore…the man’s such a mudblood lover…and Durmstrang doesn’t admit that sort of riffraff. But mother didn’t like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says they actually learn the Dark Arts there, not just the defense rubbish that we do…”

Hermione got up and shut the compartment door before Malfoy and his gang could walk by.

“So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” she said angrily. “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn’t have to put up with him.”

“Durmstrang’s another Wizarding school?” said Harry.

“Yes, and it’s got a horrible reputation,” said Hermione. “It puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts.”

“Or they used too, you would never know now,” said Millicent. “As the school and their secrets are kept well-hidden.”

Harry looked at her blankly.

Hermione assisted.

“Other wizarding schools like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets. Hogwarts itself is concealed from Muggles,” she said. Then added, “But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north. Somewhere very cold because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms.”

“Ah,” said Ron. “Think of the possibilities. It would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident…Shame his mother likes him…”

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette, the tiny voices squeaking the names of Ireland’s members. Dean reached to try and reenchant it but the normally relaxed Seamus pulled away from him in an odd gesture.

Dean shook it off though, and Harry knocked it down to the superstition of it all.

Neville listened jealously to the others’ conversation as they relived the Cup match.

“Gran didn’t want to go,” he said miserably. “Wouldn’t buy tickets. It sounded amazing though.”

“It was,” said Ron. “Look at this, Neville…”

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled put the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

“Oh, wow,” said Neville enviously as Ron handed him the figurine.

&&&

They were all positively soaked as they made their way into the castle. Peeves was launching water balloons at unsuspecting fifth years soaking them even further until Professor McGonagall threatened to get Dumbledore.

Harry sat at the Slytherin table beside a very decidedly not wet Blaise.

“How did you manage this?” Harry asked the dark skinned boy and his dry clothes.

“What?” asked Blaise. “My mother taught me grooming charms before she was concerned with teaching me how to walk. It’s not my fault your magical education has failed you.”

Harry laughed.

“Could you at least shoot a drying charm at my underwear then, it’s turning into a swamp down there.”

Blaise laughed at him but took pity just as the sorting was about to start.

After the sorting hats song, Professor McGonagall called the first name.

“Ackerley, Stewart!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Baddock, Malcolm!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

It was normal for the houses to cheer loud for their new classmates, but Slytherin seemed to be trying to outdo even that standard today. They cheered loudly for Baddock, and though the rest of the houses would seem to have every reason to not clap for the newest snake after news of what happened at the Cup had spread, a few gave a polite clap. Even the people at the Gryffindor table who Harry knew had been distressed from the attack didn’t react any different than normal.

“Creevey, Dennis!”

Tiny, Dennis Creevey, Colin’s brother edged forward, tripping over Hagrid’s moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teacher’s table.

The hat was placed on his head, and the announcement was made:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

After the sorting and the feast, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet.

“Now that we are all fed and watered. I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.”

Most of the notices were the same, until Dumbledore said, “It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“What?” Harry gasped. And Malfoy who hadn’t been paying attention to Dumbledore in the slightest was now shushing everyone in his immediate vicinity so he could hear what the man had to say next.

“This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher’s time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts….”

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

“Aw,” said Dumbledore as the odd looking man, clunked his way into the Great Hall. “May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Everyone, Professor Moody.”

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except for Dumbledore and Hagrid. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody’s bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

It was the man’s eyes that did it. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye, and then it rolled right over, pointing at the back of the man’s head so that all they could see was whiteness.

“As I was saying,” proceeded Dumbledore as Moody took his seat at the staff table. “We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

Dumbledore explained the rules, and that it was a competition. One person, a champion, from each of the three major wizarding schools in Europe would compete. Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts.

Then and Harry wasn’t sure whether it had to do with the fact that the competition hadn’t been held in a hundred years or the death toll, Dumbledore announced that there would be an age limit.

Harry could hear all the hopefuls in the Great Hall bust out in outrage. Precautions would be put in place and no one under the age of seventeen would be able to enter. Malfoy looked downright disappointed while a rather large looking Slytherin seventh year merely nodded to himself.

“The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

They had been dismissed.