Magic? || Years 1-5

I Know They're Not: Year 4/Summer

Winky was sobbing. Her cries were echoing around the clearing, which had fallen into a horrible silence.

"Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can -- if Harry could have it back, please -- " Mr. Weasley asked quietly.

Mr. Diggory handed Harry the wand.

"Come on, you four," Mr. Weasley started walking, Harry, Ron, and Amisty very close to his side. Hermione, however, was still staring fixedly at the crying House-Elf. "Hermione!"

"What's going to happen to Winky?" Hermione asked the second they left the clearing.

"I don't know," Mr. Weasley replied shortly.

"The way they were treating her! 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!" Hermione ranted.

"Well, she's not," Ron pointed out.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron," She whirled around to face him, eyes narrowed. "It's disgusting the way -- "

"Hermione, I agree with you but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?" Mr. Weasley cut her off gently.

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

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," Mr. Weasley replied, his voice strained.

They reached the edge of the woods, immediately surrounded by a crowd of frightened witches and wizards.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur -- it's not -- Him?"

"Of course it's not Him. We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed," Mr. Weasley didn't sound as if he wanted to talk whatsoever.

Amisty glanced around at the remains of the camp that was now quiet, taking in the tents that were still smoking. There were no more masked wizards, which was a relief, but the silence was fearful and nervous.

"Dad, what's going on? Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -- " Charlie's voice called out, his head poking out of the tent.

"I've got them here," Mr. Weasley ducked into the tent, closely followed by the rest of them.

Bill was sitting at the table, a bed sheet stained red pressed against his arm. A long tear cut across Charlie's shirt, and Percy's nose was bleeding.

Fred, George, and Ginny looked shaken, though safe.

"Did you get them, Dad? The person who conjured the Mark?" Bill asked sharply.

"No. We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark," Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Percy exclaimed in unison.

"Harry's wand?" Fred asked.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" Percy's eyes were so wide they were practically popping out of his head.

Mr. Weasley launched into the story of what had happened in the forest, the four of them occasionally piping up to fill in any parts that were missing.