Chapter 8: Pre-Game Excitement Part 2Summary:Hazel learns that gambling is fun! Also the twins are prats.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAfter tea, the girls got up to see what else was happening. The boys had gotten a fire going and were roasting eggs and toast and sausages, and right as Mr Weasley was plating the food, Bill, Charlie and Percy appeared from the woods. "Just apparated in," Percy said importantly. "Ah, brilliant, lunch!"
"Dad's been pointing out the who's who around here," Ron explained as the girls joined them. Even Narcissa deigned to fold her legs beneath her and accept a plate. "Lots of Ministry folks running around, but then, they're doing security so it'd be weird if they weren't, eh?"
"Right." This close to the wood, they had a great view of everyone heading up and down. "Anyone interesting?"
"Couple of Unspeakables," he said after swallowing food. "I thought they never left the Department of Mysteries, but maybe they get let out for things like this?"
Abruptly Arthur jumped to his feet. "Here he is!" he called out happily, waving at someone else on the path. "Ludo Bagman, the man of the hour!"
Ludo Bagman, whom Hazel had met in passing some months back, was a boyish-looking man with round blue eyes and short blonde hair, and he was wearing Quidditch robes with thick horizontal stripes of black and bright yellow; a large image of a wasp took up most of the chest, and Hazel thought the striping was rather unflattering on the paunchy belly he had probably grown since giving up Quidditch. Despite that he was still powerfully built, and his nose had a squashed look that she figured came from one Bludger too many.
"Ahoy there!" he called back, approaching them like he had springs attached to his feet. "By Merlin, could you ask for a more perfect day for Quidditch? Not a cloud in the sky, bound to be a perfect night too and everything going like clockwork! Not much to do but wait now, eh?"
In the distance behind him, violet sparks suddenly shot up twenty feet into the air, and more haggard Ministry officials rushed by to put it out. Bagman ignored them, though. "So who's all this, then?"
"Ah, most of these are mine, actually. Percy here, he's working for Barty-" Percy had stepped up to shake Bagman's hand- "Bill's at Gringotts, Charlie's actually a Professor at Hogwarts-"
"And a right surprise it was that I got time to come out here!" Charlie said with a laugh.
"And then the younger ones! Fred, George, Ron and Ginny! They all play Quidditch for Gryffindor, you know."
"Brilliant!" Bagman happily shook hands all around. "Ah ha, Sirius, knew you couldn't stay away! And the Lady Malfoy too, such an honor!"
"The honor is mine, I'm sure," she replied, the faintest tinge of sarcasm lacing her voice.
Hazel was quite sure it went over his head though, since the blinding smile didn't let off a single bit. "And back here we have- oh ho, we meet again, Miss Potter!"
"Just Hazel, please," Hazel insisted, grinning back at him and sticking her hand out. "And my friends, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."
"Lovely, lovely, any friend of Arthur's is a friend of mine!" He shook their hands too, and his grip was strong and calloused. "Call me Ludo, I insist!"
"It's thanks to Ludo we got such good tickets, you know, can't get any higher than him," Mr Weasley broke in with a grin.
"Ah, it was nothing!" Bagman's grin turned a little sly, and he jingled his pockets in an obvious manner. "So! Any of you care to put a little gold down on the match? Plenty already threw in, you know!"
Mr Weasley seemed to dither for a moment, then he shrugged and held out a fistful of coins. "Ten galleons on Ireland winning," he said firmly.
"Right you are!" Bagman took the gold and scrawled out a slip for Mr Weasley's bet. "Anyone else? Come on then, don't be shy!"
"Another twenty for Ireland!" Sirius proclaimed, passing more galleons to the eager Bagman.
Fred and George had been whispering frantically to each other, and finally they came up with a purse bulging with coinage. "Sixty galleons that Ireland wins but Krum gets the Snitch!" Fred declared, passing the purse to the ecstatic Bagman.
"And one of our fake wands!" George added, shoving a convincing wand in as well.
"Put that rubbish away, Mr Bagman doesn't need to see that," Percy hissed.
"Rubbish, hardly!" Bagman took the wand and flicked it about, and when it squawked loudly and turned into a rubber chicken he roared with laughter. "Ha! Never seen anything like it! I'd have fallen for it for sure if you hadn't said anything, totally convincing!"
"Come now, Ludo, that's taking it too far, they aren't of age and that's most of their savings too," Mr Weasley said uneasily, and Hazel guessed he was imagining Mrs Weasley's wrath.
"Don't be a stick in the mud, Arthur, they're old enough to know what they want!" Bagman replied, pockets now positively bursting. "Ireland wins but Krum gets the Snitch, eh? Not a chance in hell, boys, the odds are from here to the moon on that one!" He dashed off their names and gave them a slip as well, which George pocketed quickly. "Any other takers?"
Hazel didn't need to think about it too hard. She could afford to bet thousands and would never scratch the surface of her family's wealth. "Two hundred and fifty galleons on Fred and George's bet," and she dumped a cascade of gold coins from her purse into a smaller bag. It stopped at the amount and she handed the bag over. "It'll just waste away in my vault otherwise!"
Bagman hesitated over the absurd amount of gold, glancing at Sirius for approval. Sirius grinned and shrugged, and only then did Bagman take the purse and give her a betting slip. "Well! Don't suppose you could do me a cuppa, eh, Arthur? Been trying to find old Barty, see, so he can translate the Bulgarians for me."
"Mr Crouch speaks over two hundred languages!" Percy told the others, the stiff disapproval disappearing at the mention of his boss.
"Heard anything about Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself onto the grass around their fire.
"Haven't the slightest," Bagman said comfortably. "You know her though, memory like a leaky cauldron and horrible sense of direction. On holiday to Ireland and the Hebrides, last anyone knew of her. She'll turn up sooner or later, mark my words!"
"Jorkins," Hazel muttered, wondering where she'd heard that name before. She knew she had… But the conversation was moving on, and she couldn't follow it and reminisce at the same time.
"Isn't it time to send someone to find her?" Mr Weasley was saying worriedly, handing Bagman some tea.
"Barty keeps saying that too," Bagman replied, and his blue eyes widened innocently, "but we're as busy as anyone else, can't spare a single body- Oh! Talk of the devil!"
A new wizard had appeared out of thin air, and he couldn't have made a sharper contrast with the indolent Bagman in his old Quidditch robes. The new wizard (whom Hazel assumed was Barty Crouch) was a stiff, upright, elderly man, wearing a perfectly pressed gray suit and tie; if she hadn't seen him apparate she might have assumed he was a bank manager, so well did he conform to Muggle standards. She'd wager even Uncle Vernon would have been fooled!
"Take a seat, Barty," Bagman said lazily, patting the grass next to him.
Crouch just snorted impatiently. "I've been looking for you everywhere, Ludo, the Bulgarians are demanding twelve more seats in the Top Box."
"Oh, is that all? I thought the chap wanted tweezers. Couldn't tell through his accent." He scratched his nose without a care in the world.
Percy, who had been breathlessly making another cup of tea, now hurried forward, bowed over the cup like a hunchback. "Mr Crouch! Please have some tea!"
"Hm? Oh, Weatherby, thank you." He took the cup and held it, while the twins laughed silently at their brother's embarrassment. Crouch's eyes found Mr Weasley and zeroed in quickly. "Arthur, there you are too. Ali Bashir's on the warpath again about that embargo of yours."
Mr Weasley sighed heavily. "I owled him just last week. I've told him a hundred times if I've told him even once, carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Ministry and so we can't allow flying ones to be sold in England! Clearly he hasn't learned a thing!"
"What's he want to export here so badly for, anyway? He'll never replace brooms!" Bagman interjected.
"He thinks there's a niche for a family vehicle," Crouch explained, sipping the tea and making a face. "Weatherby, put some sugar in this, for Merlin's sake."
"Sorry sir, sorry!" Beet red in the face and ears, Percy took the cup back and desperately tried to dress it up to his boss's standards.
"As I was saying," Crouch sniffed. "Ali thinks there's a niche, and fifty years ago he might have found one. I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve before they were banned."
The way he spoke made Hazel think he didn't want anyone doubting his family had always adhered strictly to the law.
Bagman waved aside any talk of flying carpets. "I bet you're keeping busy today, eh, Barty?"
"Even you would be busy organizing portkeys across five continents, Ludo," Crouch said dryly. "I'll be glad when it's over, if only so we can focus on-"
"Your tea, sir!" Percy declared, standing up and hurrying over. Hazel saw Fred's hand slip beneath his jacket, saw his mouth move soundlessly, and slid aside just in time; Percy tripped up and the cup of tea spilled out, right where she'd been sitting a split second ago! "Oh no!"
"Why so clumsy, Perce?" George laughed, and he only laughed harder when he sent him and his brother an evil eye.
"Never mind, Weatherby," Crouch said, flicking his wand and dismissing the spilled tea. "Do be more careful, though."
"I haven't had so much fun in ages!" Bagman said grandly. "But we're not done here! Oh no, there's plenty left to organize, eh, Barty? Plenty to look forward to, eh?"
"Do be quiet, Ludo," Crouch snapped, frowning at him. "We can't make a formal announcement until all the details-"
"Oh, details!" Bagman scoffed. "They've all signed and agreed, haven't they? The kids'll know soon enough, it's happening at Hogwarts after all!"
"Enough! Come along, we have to see the Bulgarians and there isn't much time!"
"Fine, fine." The blonde man swilled the last of his tea and struggled upright, pockets jangling heavily with all the gold he'd taken. "See you lot in the Top Box! I'll be commentating the match!" and both wizards disappeared on the spot.
"What were they talking about, Dad?" Ginny asked, whirling to face her father. "What's happening at Hogwarts?"
"You'll know soon enough," he replied, eyes twinkling. "It's still highly classified for now."
"Mr Crouch was right not to tell us!" Percy grumbled.
"He was about to say something before Fred tripped you, though, Percy," Hazel pointed out.
"Fred WHAT!" He rounded on his brother, wand in hand. "How could you!"
"Come on, Weatherby, it was worth a laugh," Fred retorted, unphased by the wand in his face.
Hazel rolled her eyes and stood up, eager to get out of the line of fire before the Weasleys started dueling. Luna and Hermione got up too. "Why'd you rat him out, Hazel?" Hermione asked as they walked off down the lane.
"I wouldn't have, but that tea would have spilled all over me if I hadn't moved in time," she explained in a low voice. "It was careless of him, and now he can deal with it."
Notes:Most of this was just rewording the book, but I tried to make it different enough to be fun. See you next week!
Chapter 9: Pre-Game Excitement Part 3Summary:Hazel meets some familiar faces, and the excitement mounts higher and higher.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextRon caught up with them moments later, looking a bit put out. "They're really going at it," he told them, shaking his head. "Draco and his Mum just sit back looking smug, Ginny's about to jump in, I can't handle it so is it ok if I tag along?"
"I don't care," Hazel shrugged.
He looked to Luna and Hermione, and they shrugged too. "Cool. Hey, I could show you the tap across the field, where we got water earlier!"
"Fine by me." They set off down the path, Ron in the lead. "Mr Weasley takes the no-magic rule seriously, it seems."
"Merlin's pants, yes," he laughed. "I'm glad Sirius was there, or we'd have been putting those tents up by hand! I mean, it's fun, playing Muggle now and then, but I'm glad to be a wizard, you know?"
"That's awfully condescending, Ron," Hermione said, fixing him with a glare. "Muggles are people too! They've just never known magic!"
"Besides, they have their own ways of making things easier," Hazel said, thinking of things like email and computers and phones.
"Whatever," he muttered, discreetly rolling his eyes. "Look, no one else is obeying that rule, and there's no Muggles around anyway except the groundskeepers. It's stupid." He pointed at a nearby tent, whose robed inhabitants were clustered around a rainbow-tinted fire that didn't seem to have any wood to burn. "Too many here for the Ministry to keep track of, I guess."
"Maybe they're focused on keeping Muggles away instead of policing behavior," Hazel mused. "At least, that seems more efficient to me."
"That's the Ministry for you," and Ron laughed.
"Daddy thinks brain weevils burrowed into the Department Heads' heads, and coerced them into doing things inefficiently," Luna said out of nowhere, preoccupied with watching a pair of tiny witches flying around on toy brooms.
"Where is your dad anyway, Luna?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, he said he'd be around somewhere," she replied vaguely. "We should probably look for him?"
Hazel frowned. "I'm not sure we can-"
"Luna!" a familiar voice cried, and Xenophilius Lovegood stood up from his campfire to meet them. "And Luna's girlfriend and friends too!"
Girlfriend? An irrational wave of panic tried to drown out everything else, and she clamped down on it with Occlumency for a few moments. Take it easy, Hazel, he's got no reason not to think that. Indeed, he had every reason to think so, considering they were…
"She's doing it again," a male voice said, which she dimly realized was Ron. "That Occlu-thing."
"Daddy, you embarrassed her!"
"It's Occlumency, Ron, and you could stand to learn it yourself, it really helps," a third voice insisted, which belonged to Hermione.
The moment passed and Hazel opened her eyes, blinking at the others. Ron and Xenophilius were amused, Luna and Hermione decidedly not. "How'd you tell I was Occluding?" she asked Ron.
"'Cause you always get this weird stone-faced look, it's kinda funny," he said with a smirk.
"You really should spend a little time with a mirror before saying someone else has a funny face, Ron," she replied tartly, turning her back on Ron to face Xenophilius. "Mr Lovegood, it really is quite the coincidence, us running into each other now. We were just talking about you!"
"Indeed?" He laughed at that. "That would explain why I was sneezing just now!" At some point Luna had pressed herself to his side, and they were hugging tightly. "You're still watching over my Luna, right?"
"O-Of course, sir." As if she'd say any different! "She can look after herself just fine, though."
Luna detached from her father and took Hazel's hand. "I'm not sure you had a ticket with us, Daddy, did you?"
"Sadly I did not, but I'll be with you in spirit." He glanced back at his campfire and laughed. "Well, lunch is almost done, can I interest you in some stew?"
"We already ate, sir, but thank you," Hazel said. "We'll see you later though, have a nice lunch." He nodded and shook hands with everyone, then went back to his campfire while they ambled onward.
A short ways onward they saw a witch and two wizards gathered around another campfire, deep in some intense debate or other. Hazel didn't care about the debate though, not when she saw who it was. "Gemma! Flint!" she called, hurrying over.
"Oliver?" Ron asked, going over as well.
"Hey kids!" Gemma replied, standing up and beaming at them. "Ready for the big match?"
"We sure are!" Hazel looked at Flint and Wood. "Funny seeing you two getting along."
"You think we are?" Flint replied. "Ha. Wood here thinks Bulgaria stands a chance because they've got Krum. Wanna tell him why that's a mistake, Potter?"
"Krum's just one good player, Ireland has seven good players," she said promptly. "That's what cost you the season last term, Wood!"
"Yeah yeah." He waved them off and tried not to scowl. "Listen though, all that hell you put us through paid off! I qualified for Puddlemere United!"
"No shit?" she replied, impressed.
"No shit! They got a bit shirty about my record as captain, sure, but once I flew tryouts they saw I was worth it! And I've got you and Flint to thank!" He got up and shook Hazel's hand. "Flint got in too, he's a Chaser and I'm Keeper, though we're both reserve Beaters just in case."
"What about you, Gemma?" Hazel asked, while Wood turned to greet the others.
"I'm keeping my options open," she replied with a shrug. "With my grades I'd be a shoo-in for the Ministry, but they're a soft option as far as my family's concerned so I've applied at Gringotts and St Mungo's in the meantime."
She had to wonder about that, about what sort of family would consider Ministry employment a soft option. "You could go into business for yourself, I bet," she said jokingly. "Farley's Fantastic Flyers, or something!"
"There's a thought," Gemma replied seriously.
Eventually they had to move on, and passed through the Irish section on the way to the tap. There were shamrocks and green fires everywhere, and they ran into Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two of Ron's dormmates. Seamus' mother, a formidable-looking woman in the vein of Mrs Weasley, gave them a side-eye until they admitted they were supporting Ireland, and Hazel even had the betting slip to prove it.
"Like we'd say anything else around that lot," Ron muttered when they left the greenery behind.
The Bulgarian section wasn't much better. Every single tent had a larger-than-life poster of the same person, a grouchy-looking young man with heavy black eyebrows; all he did was blink and scowl at everyone looking.
"That's him, that's Krum!" Ron said, clearly excited.
"He looks like he could use a pair of Daddy's Dirigible Plum earrings," Luna remarked. "They make you wiser, you know."
"He doesn't need wisdom, he's a bloody genius at Quidditch!" he blustered. "You wait until tonight, you'll see!"
"I hope he is, actually, I'm betting on it," Hazel said. She didn't especially need the money, but it'd sure be nice to see the look on Bagman's face if she actually won the bet!
There was a long queue at the tap, with Ministry wizards arguing futilely with outlandishly dressed wizards who still technically fit the Muggle dress code. They stood back and watched the queue for a few minutes, seeing how everyone interacted, especially with the Ministry workers. Eventually Hazel got bored. "Reckon they're done now?"
"Yeah, let's head back," Ron agreed, and they turned to cross the field again.
"That was a bit pointless, wasn't it? We could have just waited in one of the tents," Hermione said on the way.
"But then we wouldn't have found Daddy, or met all those people," Luna replied serenely.
When they got back to their tents, Percy and Fred were at opposite ends of the fire, not speaking to anyone. "Alright guys?" Hazel asked, sitting back down herself.
"Why you'd rat him out?" George muttered, giving her a stink eye.
"Because that tea would have landed on me if I hadn't moved in time," she muttered back, grabbing a stick and some marshmallows. "You seriously didn't see me sitting there?"
The way Fred blanched told her everything she needed to know, and she rolled her eyes. "Boys."
Fred and George muttered to each other for a few moments, then Fred stood up. "Oi, Perce, uh. Reckon I oughta own up to what happened."
"It's one thing to prank our brother, but when someone else is in the line of fire, that's taking it too far," George added. "Sorry, mate."
Percy looked stiff for a second longer, then sighed and slumped. "It's fine, just forget it. Not like Mr Crouch gives a damn anyway."
"Fair enough." Clearly he was eager to put it behind them. "Marshmallow?"
Hazel thought about it for a bit, about why Crouch was so dismissive of Percy and why he seemed to take it so hard. It wasn't difficult to deduce: Crouch was an elderly man, and the pressure of the World Cup along with whatever mystery event they were putting together was likely weighing very heavily on him.
Add to that, too, that Percy could only have been there for a month, at the most. Unless he had a job opening already lined up and waiting, straight out of Hogwarts? That still wouldn't be enough time to make an impression. She had to pity him, honestly; he'd put everything into his grades, had dreamed of working at the Ministry and making his parents proud… only to wind up as a personal assistant to an old man who couldn't even remember his name. And his brothers still took the piss out of him every chance they had.
At least his mother was proud of him.
The day went on, and things eased up at their camp as the festive mood reasserted itself. Wizards of every description could be seen heading up and down the path, though as the sun got higher in the sky Hazel found herself yawning. "I think I'll grab a nap, you guys. When does everything kick off, then?"
"Sundown!" Sirius exclaimed. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you don't sleep in."
"Righto." She waved to the others and ducked into the tent, where she stripped off most of her clothes and crawled into a sleeping bag atop a cot. She was asleep in moments, and hardly noticed when Luna slid into the bag with her some minutes later.
Notes:Today didn't feel like a Friday so I almost missed my update window. lol!
Chapter 10: Pre-Game Excitement Part 4Summary:Hazel, meet veela. Hazel, try not to embarrass yourself. Hazel no!
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAs it turned out, there was no need to worry, as a deep, booming gong announced the start of the main event. Hazel jerked awake at the sound, blinking sleep away as she and Luna scrambled out of the sleeping bag to get dressed. Wand, boots, coat, good to go. "Got your wand?" she asked, taking Luna's hand.
"Yes," and she patted the side of her own jacket. "This is so exciting!"
They scrambled out of the tent to find the others on their feet, quivering with excitement. "It's time!" Mr Weasley said, gleefully rubbing his hands. "Follow the lanterns!"
Indeed, a path into the woods had been lit up with green and red lights. Hazel and Luna followed the others, the trees rustling as tens of thousands of others moved along as well, shouting and laughing and singing. The feverish excitement was infectious, and despite her usual aversion to crowds Hazel found herself grinning along.
Twenty minutes later they came out the other side, in the shadow of the massive golden stadium. It was so big she couldn't see the whole thing from here, and she got the impression at least ten cathedrals could fit comfortably inside.
"How many people can that thing hold?" she asked Mr Weasley, trying to control the awestruck look on her face.
"One hundred thousand witches and wizards!" he exclaimed. "The Ministry's been hard at work all year with it, Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch!"
"Those usually make any Muggle who comes near it suddenly remember urgent appointments somewhere else, even if they didn't have one," Ron added, since Mr Weasley was turning away again to keep their spot in the huge queue. Scrum was probably a better word for it, with hundreds of Ministry witches guarding the entrances and trying to check everyone's tickets at once.
Even as she watched, a droopy-eyed, bald-headed wizard tried to slip around through the nearest way in, but he was rebuffed by the stadium itself. "Oi you! No sneaking in!" the witch manning that gate yelled, whirling on him with wand out. "Show us yer ticket or bugger off!"
"That's not Mundungus Fletcher, is it?" Bill said, staring at the grubby wizard as he sulkily pulled out a stained, dog-eared parchment. "If he had a ticket why'd he try and sneak past?"
Luckily they had theirs, and the witch at the gate waved them on by. "Top Box is straight on up, Arthur! High as you can go!" she called over the din of the crowd.
Sirius and Mr Weasley took the lead, and like before the others grabbed hands to keep from getting separated. "Don't let go, please don't let go," Hazel muttered to Luna, focusing hard on her Occlumency to keep from losing her head.
"I'll never let go," she whispered back, squeezing reassuringly.
It took her a few moments to realize there was hardly any noise of footsteps, and a few more moments to figure out that it was because the stairs had thick purple carpeting on them. Higher and higher they climbed, and she swore the air grew somewhat thinner; certainly it got cooler, at least as more people filed away to their seats elsewhere.
Finally they reached the Top Box, which was set at the absolute highest point and set precisely in the middle, between the two sets of goal posts. Thirty luxurious gilt-and-purple seats were set in three rows, and they looked comfortable indeed.
"I've never seen anything like it," Hazel murmured, following Ron and Luna to their seats in the front row.
"Many of them probably won't ever see it again," Sirius said soberly. "But we will, eh?"
"Hell yeah!" They'd be graduated by the time the next one came along!
They all sat down, and Ron handed her a pair of funny binoculars. "Here, Sirius bought enough for all of us while you were napping earlier," he explained. "Omnioculars! Lets you zoom in, slow the action down, even gives you a play-by-play!"
"Brilliant!" She took them and held them up, scanning the crowd. Everything below them was suffused in golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field was as smooth as silk from so high up; across the stadium was a huge black scoreboard, which was currently flashing various advertisements from the sponsors: brooms, cleaning supplies, clothiers, all sorts of products.
It was hard to look away, but look away she did, peering over her shoulder to see who else had joined them. Strangely enough the Top Box was mostly empty, though in the second to last seat of the row above them a miserable looking house-elf was hunched over, shivering and hiding her eyes. Hazel recognized those large, bat-like ears. "Hello? Are you alright?" she asked of the elf.
Slowly the elf looked up, revealing huge brown eyes and a nose like a tomato. "Miss shouldn't worry, oh no!" she squeaked, and the others turned to look too. "Winky is saving Master's seat!"
"You don't know Dobby, do you?" Draco asked.
"Winky is knowing Dobby, sir!" she said. "You is… you is the Malfoy boy, sir?"
"That's me, and my mother the Lady Malfoy," and he indicated Narcissa, who nodded gravely but kept silent.
"Winky is honored!" she replied, nodding fervently. She looked at the rest of them, gaze settling again on Hazel and her scar. "You is Hazel Potter, miss!"
"How do you know me, Winky?"
"All house elves is knowing Hazel Potter who saved us from You-Know-Who!" the elf replied. "Miss is surely a great hero!"
So the elves at school weren't outliers, she reckoned. Recognition was nice, and she smiled back at the elf. "It was nice meeting you, Winky, I hope your master comes soon."
"He is surely coming any minute now!" she said, glancing to the empty seat by her side before hiding her face and shivering again.
"Poor thing, she probably doesn't like heights," Hermione murmured, glancing back at Winky with pity in her eyes. But she turned forward again, and looked down at the velvet-covered program for the night. "Looks like the team mascots are doing a demonstration before the match."
"Oh, that'll be interesting," Sirius said with a grin. "These national teams tend to bring creatures from their homeland, you know. Always a good show."
One by one the other seats were filled in, and judging by how Percy and Mr Weasley greeted them, Hazel assumed they were all important witches and wizards. Even the British Minister for Magic appeared, and even though she'd only met him once in passing, he greeted her like an old friend. "Hazel Potter, so good to see you again!" he said jovially, shaking her hand.
"Er, likewise, Minister," she replied, wondering if he even remembered that she had crashed an important meeting with Dumbledore.
"Hazel Potter, you know," he said to a foreign wizard in splendid black robes trimmed in gold. He didn't understand English, apparently, as he replied with exaggerated gestures. "Come on, Hazel Potter? Defeated You-Know-Who?"
The wizard saw her scar and suddenly began speaking loudly and quickly, in what she assumed was Bulgarian, because none of it made a lick of sense to her.
"Right, I knew he'd figure it out eventually," Fudge said wearily. "Minister Oblansk, you know, all the way from Bulgaria." He looked around and spotted Winky. "Where's Barty, anyway? His elf's here, but I don't see him, he'd translate this gibberish for us."
That was Barty Crouch's elf? She had no time to ponder the fresh mystery, for more Bulgarians were arriving behind their Minister, all of them chattering away at top speed and volume. Bagman appeared then as well, still walking like he had springs on his shoes, alongside sandy-haired and freckled Irish representatives. "Everybody ready?" he asked, rubbing his hands gleefully. "Ministers?"
"As we'll ever be," Fudge said comfortably. "Kick it off, Ludo!"
"Righto!" Bagman whipped his wand out and put it to his own throat, muttering "Sonorous!" When he spoke next his voice echoed powerfully, overpowering every other sound in the stadium. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WITCHES AND WIZARDS! BRITON, IRISH, BULGARIAN AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN! WELCOME! WELCOME TO THE FINALE OF THE 422ND QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!"
The crowd below them went utterly berserk, screaming and clapping and stomping their feet, waving enchanted flags aloft that belted out various national anthems. Across from them, the big blackboard wiped clean one last time and showed the score: BULGARIA: 0 IRELAND: 0
"BUT BEFORE THE BIG MATCH WE HAVE ONE MORE SHOW FOR YOU! PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!"Bagman roared, to much approval from the Bulgarian side of the stadium.
"Any idea what they've brought with them?" Mr Weasley asked, wiping his glasses off on his robes. "Oh ho! Veela!"
Hazel opened her mouth to ask what were veela, but the sight of a hundred women gliding onto the feel struck her dumb. Veela were women, the most beautiful women she'd ever seen in her life! But there was no way they were human! Not when their skin glowed as if struck by moonlight, or when their hair streamed out in a nonexistent breeze.
Then the music started and all she could think about was the women on the field, for they had started to dance. And such dancing! Not since she'd had the Imperius Curse cast on her had she felt so blissfully empty and free of all thought. Only one thing mattered, that the veela dance and dance, for if they stopped, she was certain terrible things would happen…
"Be careful, Hazel," someone said from a long way off, as fingers plucked at her wrist.
Slowly she shook her head and blinked unsteadily, looking aside to see Luna laughing at her. "They're way down there, and we're way up here. It wouldn't work."
"What wouldn't work?" she replied stupidly, looking back at the field. Then the music stopped and the veela stopped dancing, and she realized she was poised to dive headfirst off the Top Box. Ron and Ginny were likewise on their feet; even Hermione looked a little punchdrunk, and Narcissa had Draco firmly restrained with a hand on the back of his neck.
"What just happened?" Hazel asked, falling back into her seat while the others laughed good-naturedly. The crowd sounded angry as the veela filed off to sit at one side of the stadium; they didn't want them to go, it seemed. Hazel didn't want them to go either, and only by holding onto Luna's hand and focusing on her Occlumency did she stop herself from doing anything stupid.
"What's this junk for?" Ron muttered, tearing the shamrocks off his hat. "I can't be seen like this, what will the veela think?"
"Easy, Ron," Mr Weasley laughed, plucking the hat from his son's hands. "Let the Irish have their say."
"AND THE IRISH RESPOND WITH THEIR OWN NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!" Bagman yelled, voice echoing over the whole stadium. Next moment a great green-and-gold comet zoomed through the air, making a lap of the stadium before splitting into two smaller comets that hovered above the goalposts. A magnificent rainbow connected the two comets, and the crowd clapped and cheered, even the Bulgarian side.
The rainbow faded and the green balls became one again, rising higher to turn into a huge green shamrock that soared back and forth across the crowd below, while a golden rain fell in its wake-
"Gold!" Ron shouted, and sure enough, the golden shower was comprised of heavy gold coins! Peering at the shamrock as it soared over the Top Box, Hazel saw thousands of tiny bearded men in red vests, each of them carrying a green or gold lamp!
"Leprechauns!" Sirius called delightedly, making no move to gather the gold coins.
"Why aren't you going for the money, Sirius?" Hermione asked.
"Because it's fake!" he replied, raising his voice. "Don't be fooled, those coins will disappear in the next few hours!"
"But it looks so real," Ron mumbled, before letting his gathered coins fall with a sigh. Fred and George likewise looked downcast, but only for a moment.
The shamrock dissolved as the tiny leprechauns drifted down to settle opposite from the veela, and the crowd settled down slowly. It was nearly time!
"AND NOW! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM! DIMITROV! IVANOVA! LEVSKI! ZOGRAF! VULCHANOV AND VOLKOV! ANNNNNND KRUM!"
Seven figures in red Quidditch robes zoomed onto the field, flying so fast they were a crimson blur. Hazel brought her Omnioculars up to focus on Krum: he had dark eyes and heavy brows, and his large curved nose made him look like an overgrown bird of prey as he was hunched over his broom. The other players were in the same vein, she thought.
"NEXT! MAY I PRESENT THE IRISH NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM! TROY! MULLET! MORAN! RYAN! CONNOLLY AND QUIGLEY! ANNNNNND LYNCH!"
From the other end sped seven green blurs, and Hazel fiddled with her Omnioculars; she saw their names on their backs, and grinned at the Firebolt brooms they all flew. Seeing them all on the world's best broom made her weirdly confident in her random bet all of a sudden.
"FINALLY, ALL THE WAY FROM EGYPT, OUR REFEREE FOR THE NIGHT! HOSAN MOSTAFA! CHAIRWIZARD OF THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF QUIDDITCH!"
A bald and skinny wizard with a magnificent mustache flew low onto the field, the tips of his golden shoes skimming the field of grass as he went. He wore golden robes that matched the stadium, and a silver whistle hung from a chain about his neck; behind him a large crate trundled along, and Hazel could see it shuddering slightly, no doubt from the Bludgers raring to be let loose.
The entire stadium held its breath as Mostafa reached the very center of the field, and the two teams took their positions above him. He set the crate on the ground and kicked it open! Four balls zoomed into the air, including the tiny golden Snitch!
"AND THEY'RE OFF!"
Notes:Hazel yes, lol xD
Chapter 11: Post-Game Chaos Part 1Summary:The game is over, Ireland won and so did Hazel. But...
Chapter Text"That was unbelievable!" Hazel shouted as they all filed back down to ground level after the match. "All those fouls, I've never seen Quidditch played so hard!"
"It's definitely different at that level, practically a whole new game," Fred agreed. "And the ending, too! I still can't believe we won that bet!"
"Well I can't believe Bagman tried paying us in leprechaun gold!" George laughed, turning to thump Sirius on the back. "Good looking out, mate!"
"You'd think anyone would be suspicious after those guys flew overhead," he replied, shrugging.
"We've definitely got to learn those formations they had," Draco told Hazel. "And you should learn that Wronski Feint!"
"Can you believe what the veela turned into after the leprechauns flipped them off?" Ron said, shuddering at the thought of the beautiful women turning into fire-throwing bird-like monsters.
"That's why you never go by looks alone, kids," Mr Weasley said, smiling at all of them. "Like I said before, get to know your partners first!"
"Yes dad," a chorus of embarrassed Weasleys replied.
He smiled a little wider, then sighed. "Don't tell your mother you were gambling, either," he said to Fred and George. "She'll go after Ludo once she's through with you two."
"Someone should go after him, we won fair and square," Fred said darkly. "Didn't we, Hazel?"
"Damn right we did." She was still replaying that final dive in her mind's eye, Krum and Lynch hurtling toward the ground, matching red and green blurs. "I wonder why Krum went for the Snitch when his team was so far behind?"
"He knew the Irish chasers were too good, his own team would never catch up," Narcissa said. "If you're going to lose no matter what, there's no shame in losing on yourterms."
The thrill of the match was still singing in Hazel's blood as they descended the stairs, and she was able to ignore the press of the crowd and keep her head, though she kept hold of Luna's hand on the way down of course.
As they passed through the wood, though, with its deep and shifting shadows, she recalled her warning to Snape, and wondered what he had done with it. Surely if Malfoy had anything planned, now was the time to start it, with the Irish in raucous celebration and the Bulgarians angry over their loss. Riots weren't uncommon at these massive sporting events, after all, and it'd be simple enough to kick one off.
"Mr Weasley, does the Ministry have any plan in place for dealing with rioting?" she asked, tugging on his sleeve.
"Hm? Riots?" He thought about it for a moment. "Don't worry, Hazel, Madam Bones had her best hit witches and wizards held in reserve all day, just in case of rioting." He looked up as they left the wood. "Ah, see, here's one of them now."
A tall, grim-looking wizard in jet black robes was stationed before their campsite, wand at the ready. Even in the darkness, Hazel could tell he was fresh and ready to go, a sharp contrast to the overworked Ministry wizards tasked with keeping order earlier in the day. "Arthur," the wizard said tersely, gaze flicking everywhere as he turned his head to watch the crowd. "Ireland won, by the sounds of it."
"Yes, but it was Bulgaria's Snitch in the end," Mr Weasley said in return.
"Mm." The grim wizard didn't seem inclined to move. "I'll ask you to turn in quickly, Arthur, and keep it quiet tonight. We've had word that Death Eaters might try something."
Hazel breathed a sigh of relief; her warning had gotten through! The others weren't so eager to turn in, though, if their groaning and complaining was any indication.
"Surely one cup of cocoa wouldn't hurt, Hawke?" Mr Weasley said placatingly. "We won't even light a fire, promise."
"As long as it's inside," Hawke agreed.
"Righto. Come on, you lot." They all piled into the largest tent and sat around the table, and between them the adults had cocoa going quickly. "Molly's not here so I'll let you kids splash a little something extra in your cups if you want, eh?"
"As long as it's not firewhiskey," Hazel said, recalling how her last glass made her sleepy so fast.
"Nah, we've got peppermint whiskey this time," Sirius said, adding a slight measure of the stuff to each cup as it went out.
"Is that alright, Mother?" Draco asked of his mum.
"Certainly, Draco." He smiled and took his dressed up cup, sipping from it with a sigh.
Hazel took hers and tried it; the peppermint flavoring wasn't as strong as firewhiskey, and mixed better with the chocolate. "Much better."
They all sat up debating the match for a while, and Hazel got into it with Bill over cobbing while Luna leaned on her shoulder. Eventually Ginny fell asleep where she sat and nearly spilled her drink, and that was the cue to pack it in. "Come on, you lot, we've got a day ahead of us tomorrow, best to rest up," Mr Weasley said, gesturing everyone to move out.
Hazel and Luna followed Narcissa to the next tent, with Hermione and a yawning Ginny in tow. "We're gonna sit out here for a while, Narcissa, if that's alright. We had a nap earlier, so we're fine."
"Don't be up too late, you heard Arthur," was all she said before disappearing inside.
They sat outside the tent and got comfortable in the grass, watching the campfires go out and listening to the Irish celebrating raucously. "You were worried about the riots, weren't you?" Luna asked softly.
"Yeah." In a very low voice, mindful of the silent form of Hawke the hit wizard standing vigil by the path, she told her about the dreams she'd had over the summer. "He's coming back, Luna, and it doesn't seem like anyone gives a damn," she finished.
"I'm sure Dumbledore is planning something against him," she replied, rubbing Hazel's hand reassuringly.
"No, he's not, he's preoccupied with whatever they've got going on after the Cup," she replied. "Snape told me so himself! I have no idea what's even happening, just that Hogwarts is involved somehow."
"Don't you trust them?" Luna asked, looking up at her in the darkness.
"Who, the adults?" Hazel shook her head. "I dunno, really. Whatever's going on, it can't be more important than Voldemort coming back, can it?"
"Probably not." Luna didn't flinch at the name, though she did move in closer. "Just forget it for now, Hazel, we can't do anything about it from here. We've got those Ministry wizards watching over us, remember?"
"True." Hawke was still standing there, she noted. If he could hear them, he made no sign of it. The Irish were showing no sign of slowing down either, and she was glad they were clear over by the wood.
Abruptly everything changed. The revelry turned to screams; Hawke swore loudly and dashed off; flashes of light over by the Muggle cottages could be seen. "What's happening?" Hazel said, bolting to her feet. "Luna, go get the girls!" She dashed to the boys' tent and stuck her head in. "Mr Weasley! Mr Weasley, get up, something's happening!"
She turned back, watching the scene by the cottage. There was more screaming, and then four figures rose high into the air, held aloft by a tightly-packed group of wizards in black hoods; she guessed they would have masks on beneath those hoods.
It took a minute or so, but Mr Weasley and the others soon joined her outside. Everyone had seemingly thrown jackets on over their sleep clothes, and the adults were clutching wands.
"Dad, I've lost my wand!" Ron was saying as he searched his pockets furiously. "Come on, let me check-"
"There's no time, Ron!" Mr Weasley said sharply, watching the four figures and the wizards beneath them. Even as they stood there, more witches and wizards joined the group, and drunken laughter and jeering mingled ominously with the screams of those fleeing the scene.
Another flash of light lit them up better, and Hazel saw one of the Muggles was Mr Roberts; the others had to be his wife and children then, as two of them were rather small. One of the wizards below caused the wife to turn upside down, and her nightgown fell over despite her efforts to cover herself up; the crowd below laughed and jeered even harder at the sight of the woman's drawers.
"That's sick!" Ginny hissed, looking scared but determined all the same. "Dad, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"I'll watch the children, the rest of you go help the Ministry," Narcissa said firmly. "Everyone follow me, we need to hide in the woods!"
"Good luck, stay safe and stick together!" Mr Weasley said as he dashed off, followed by Bill, Sirius, Charlie and Percy.
Hazel followed Narcissa, and the others followed her into the woods, and were quickly swallowed up by the deep shadows. "Light your wands! The time for hiding is past," Narcissa said as she did so herself.
"Lumos," Hazel hissed, causing a beam of light to emanate from her own wand. The others did the same, except Ron of course. "Were those Death Eaters?"
"I fear so, those were the same robes they wore before," Narcissa replied. "Come on, we have to get deeper!"
The colored lanterns had gone out, leaving everyone to blunder along in darkness. Children cried out, anxious voices and shouts echoed throughout the trees, giving the cold night air an eerie feeling. Hazel and the Weasleys stuck closely to Narcissa, who was leading them purposefully into the woods while countless others streamed around them, calling out for their friends or family.
They paused beneath a larger tree, and through a gap in the branches they could see the scene at the campground. The crowd beneath the Muggles was larger than ever, and were surrounded by Ministry hit wizards who were trying to get through to the hooded and cloaked Death Eaters.
"Why don't they just blast their way through there?" Fred muttered, looking sick at the sight.
"They're trying to keep the Muggles safe, if they attack too hard they'll fall," Hermione replied.
"Or get thrown down," Hazel added, doing her best to keep her emotions in check while maintaining her awareness of her surroundings.
"Let's keep moving," Narcissa decided, and once again they took off through the gloom, the light from their wands giving a bouncy, irregular illumination of the wood.
They passed a group of teenagers arguing in a foreign language, and one of them turned to the group. "Ou est Madame Maxime?" she asked in a panicky voice. "Nous l'avons perdue-"
"What did she say?" Ron asked, hurrying to keep up with Narcissa.
"Hogwarts," another of the foreign teens said dismissively, and they turned away again.
"They're from Beauxbatons, I'd imagine," Hermione said as they hurried along.
"The French Academy of Magic?" That made sense to Hazel. "Madame Maxime must be their Headmistress, huh?"
Farther up the path their lights caught another scene; a house-elf struggling out of some bushes, moving awkwardly as if something were holding her back. "Bad wizards!" she gasped, shielding her eyes from the lights. "Muggles in the air! Leave Winky alone!"
"Winky? That was Crouch's elf!" Ron said, standing back to let the elf go by. "What's the matter with her?"
"It's not our concern," Narcissa said shortly, staring at the space behind Winky as she struggled on through the trees. "No doubt she failed to ask permission to flee, or some such. Keep moving!"
"House-elves get a raw deal, don't they?" Hermione said as they moved on. "They're basically slaves! Mr Crouch had her at the top of the stadium but he never appeared, did he? And she was plainly terrified the whole time! And now she can't even run away properly!"
"Is this the time, Hermione?" Draco replied. "Not all house-elves are like Dobby, you know, they like serving wizards!"
A loud bang sounded from the campsite; the rioters were coming closer.
"Shut up about house elves and move!" Ginny hissed, prodding Hermione in the back when it seemed like she was going to keep on about it.
Deeper into the wood they went, passing more people as they went. They saw some goblins beneath a tree, cackling over a bulging sack of gold they had doubtless earned through betting on the match. "Wonder if Bagman took up with that lot?" Fred mused. "We'll never see our money if he did, they don't play fair when it comes to galleons."
"Don't act like you haven't got more at home," Hazel replied, scanning the path ahead of them.
"Well yeah, but Mum has it all under control, doesn't she? Even Dad can't get at it without her say-so."
"He'd blow it all on Muggle junk if he could," George said.
A clearing to their left was emitting silvery light, and they looked in to see three veela, surrounded by dumbstruck wizards. "Move, move!" Narcissa said loudly, jerking her wand through the air and yanking everyone forward. "We'll be held up for hours if we stop there!"
Chapter 12: Post-Game Chaos Part 2Summary:More insanity. When will it end? Hint: never.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextFinally, when the noise of the veelas' admirers had faded away behind them, they seemed to be alone in the heart of the wood. It was very quiet apart from their panting, at least. "Reckon we can wait here, don't you, Narcissa?" Hazel asked, leaning against a massive old tree.
"I suppose so," she replied, but hardly had she spoken but there was a pop from the other side of the tree, and Ludo Bagman appeared.
He was no longer rosy-cheeked and bouncing, indeed he now seemed quite pale and strained. "L-Lady Malfoy?" he muttered distractedly, raising his hands in the air at the sight of so many wands aimed at him. "What are you- what's going on?"
"There's a riot going on, Mr Bagman, I'm watching these children," Narcissa said, watching him with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing, so far from your post?"
"What do you mean, riot?" he demanded, fumbling for his wand.
"Wizards in masks and hoods got that Mr Roberts and his family," Hazel blurted out. "Where's our money? We won our bets fair and square!"
"Son of a bitch," he swore, ignoring their threats. "Damn them, they'll ruin everything!" and he disappeared with another pop.
"I wonder what his problem is," Hermione mused, lowering her wand. "He's not exactly on top of things, huh?"
"He was a great Beater, you know, led the Wasps to victory three times in a row," Fred said, sitting down beneath the tree.
"Probably took a Bludger too many to the head," George nodded. "That's why most professional Beaters don't last too long."
Ron said nothing, he just sat down on the ground as well and took out a little figurine; it was Viktor Krum, duck-footed and hunched over like the real Krum, awkward on its feet as it paced back and forth on Ron's hand, glaring up at him.
"You think the riot's stopped?" Hazel asked after listening to the silence for a moment.
"I hope they got the Muggles down safely," Hermione said, seated next to Ron with her knees drawn up under her chin.
"I wonder if Father was in that crowd," Draco said nervously, glancing at his mother.
"It would not surprise me in the least," she said in a low voice. "I hope they catch him, I'm certain they'd see it as an excuse to lock him away again."
"Why would the Death Eaters do something like this? Especially with the entire Ministry out in force tonight?" Ginny asked. "They can't expect to get away with it, can they?"
"I'll bet they were drinking," Hazel said. "Or maybe they were-"
The sound of footsteps cut her off, and seven wands snapped around, pointing their light in its direction. "Someone's there," Luna whispered. Indeed, a figure could barely be seen through an especially thick cluster of trees and bushes, though they had stopped with all the wands and their lights aimed at them.
"Who's there?" Narcissa demanded, striding forward. "Show yourself at once!"
The dim figure retreated, hiding their face. Then they gestured up to the sky and a harsh voice shouted an incantation: "MORSMORDRE!"
Something vast and glittering erupted upward, swiftly rising above the trees and into the night sky. Hazel felt a sense of dread at the sight of the thing, which resolved itself into a huge green skull with a snake in place of its tongue; it rose higher and higher, billowing outward until it hung above them like a smoky new constellation.
Screams rent the woods around them and a fresh stampede away from the scene commenced, but Narcissa stood her ground. "Stupefy!" she shouted, sending jets of red light into the cluster of trees. "Get down, all of you! It's the Dark Mark!"
"The what?!" Hermione cried, staring upward in terror.
"Voldemort's sign," Hazel gasped, finally recognizing the skull and snake from books she had read. "Narcissa, watch out!" She grabbed Luna and pressed her against the tree, shielding her with her own body. Ron and Hermione were still on the ground, holding each other and trembling; Fred and George had tackled Ginny to the ground and were covering their heads; Draco was next to Hazel, his pale face eerie in the green light, practically burrowed into the tree.
Hazel wasn't sure what she was waiting for, she just knew that Mark was a signal of some kind, and God only knew who'd respond…
A series of popping sounds announced the arrival of at least twenty more wizards, and they all had their wands out, pointed right at Narcissa. "Protego!" Hazel gasped, flicking her wand at the same time the twenty wizards all yelled "STUPEFY!" at once.
Narcissa put up her own shield spells, giving herself enough time to fall to the ground; their shields didn't hold up long, and most of the red jets of light shot off into the thicket of trees the green skull had come from, or bounced off each other and rebounded off into the rest of the forest.
"Stop!" a voice finally yelled after the third or fourth round of stunners. "STOP! My kids are in there!"
The red lights stopped firing off. Mr Weasley hurried into view, looking terrified. "By Merlin," he gasped, and as one his children went to him. "You're safe, you're all safe…"
"Mother!" Draco called, hurrying to help Narcissa up. "Mother, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Draco," she replied curtly, rising to her feet, wand still clutched tightly in one hand. "The spell came from those trees, we saw someone back there!"
"A likely story," said a colt, curt voice. It was Barty Crouch, and his face was taut with rage. The other wizards closed in, wands still held up. "Was it you then, Lady Malfoy? Falling back on your old ways, hm?"
"It wasn't her!" Hazel insisted, putting herself between Narcissa and Crouch. "We were running from that riot, just like everyone else, and we saw someone in those trees there!"
"Do not lie, miss! You were found at the scene of the crime!" Crouch snarled, looking slightly mad with his eyes popping out.
"Take it easy, Barty," Mr Weasley said, pulling away from his family for a moment. "You heard them, the spell came from those trees."
"So they say!" Crouch shouted, disbelief all over his face. "You, girl! Was it you? Did YOU summon that Mark?"
"Me? Never!" Hermione shouted, aghast. "I don't even- I'm Muggle-born, for Christ's sake!"
"I'll go look," a short wizard with a scrubby brown beard said, whom Hazel recognized as Amos Diggory after a moment. "The rest of you, watch my back." He squared his shoulders and marched across the clearing, wand held high as he stepped into the shadows. Seconds later he cried out victoriously. "I found someone! Unconscious, thank Merlin! But- bloody hell…"
"Who is it, Amos?" Crouch called, rolling his eyes.
Mr Diggory reappeared, footsteps crunching in the fallen leaves, a tiny figure held in his arms. Hazel recognized the tea towel at once; it was Winky!
Nobody moved as he put the limp elf at Crouch's feet; the other wizards stared at him, while he stood there transfixed, eyes blazing at the sight of his elf. "Impossible," he muttered jerkily. "How did- why-?"
He pushed Mr Diggory aside and strode toward the thick bushes where Winky had been found. "There's no one else there, Barty!" Diggory called after him, but he was ignored.
Mr Diggory shrugged and looked back at the elf while Mr Crouch wasted his time searching the bushes. "Embarrassing, isn't it? Barty's house-elf, I mean."
"Are you seriously accusing Winky of casting the Dark Mark?" Mr Weasley said incredulously. "It's a wizard's sign, you know that, it needs a wand!"
"Yes, and she did have a wand in her hands," Mr Diggory replied grimly, drawing a wand from his pocket and holding it up. "You remember Clause Three of the Code of Wand Use, right, Arthur? No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand!"
Ron started forward, staring at the wand in Diggory's grasp, but he was cut off by the appearance of yet another wizard, right in his path. It was Bagman again, breathless and disoriented, staring upward at the emerald-green skull. "The Dark Mark!" he gasped, stepping backward and falling into Ron. "It really was Death Eaters! But why were they way back here? Where's Barty?"
"Here, Ludo." Crouch had stepped back into the clearing, and was brushing leaves and debris off his no-longer-impeccable gray suit. He was quite empty handed, face whiter than ever, hands and mustache twitching.
"Barty!" Bagman whirled on Crouch, nearly stepping on Winky. "Where've you been? You weren't at the match, your elf had a seat saved for you and everything!"
"I've been busy, Ludo," Crouch said, still speaking in a halting, jerky manner. "And you almost stepped on Winky just now, you oaf."
"Wha?" Again Bagman leaped back, and Ron shoved him away this time. "Why's she knocked out? Or- stunned? Oh no, you don't think Winky did it? Where could she have learned how? She'd need a wand!"
Again, Mr Diggory held up the wand he had supposedly taken off Winky. "I found her holding this one. Barty, we need to hear from her directly, see what she has to say for herself." He didn't seem to have heard the words, so Diggory shrugged and drew his own wand, pointing it at Winky's face. "Rennervate!"
Winky stirred feebly. Her big brown eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light of several wands pointed at her. Slowly she sat up, shaking her head to clear the confusion away. "Where is Winky being?" she muttered, cringing away from Mr Diggory. Looking up at him, she caught sight of the Dark Mark, still hovering in the sky, reflected off of her glassy eyes; she gave a terrified gasp and burst into tears.
"Elf!" he said sternly. "I represent the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! Explain your presence holding a wand directly beneath the Dark Mark!"
Winky was rocking back and forth on the ground, trying not to panic any more. "Winky is not doing it, sir! Winky is not knowing any wand spells!"
"You were holding a wand, I said!" Mr Diggory snarled, brandishing the stolen wand for a third time. "I demand an explanation!"
"I want one too!" Ron shouted, finally shoving Bagman aside for the last time. "That's my wand!"
"Your wand?" Diggory repeated, and everyone in the clearing stared at the two of them. "Are you confessing, boy? You conjured the Mark and threw your wand aside, then?"
"Amos!" Mr Weasley growled angrily. "That's my sonyou're accusing of Dark Magic!"
"Huh?" Mr Diggory looked from Ron to Mr Weasley and back again. "Oh, uh, by Merlin… sorry, boy…"
"I didn't lose it out here anyway," Ron said indignantly. "It must have been during the match, I noticed it missing after we had to get out of bed and run when the riots broke out!"
"Enough of your baseless accusations, Mr Diggory," Narcissa said coldly. "It couldn't have been Ronald or the elf, the figure we saw in the shadows was the size of a man, and the voice was a man's voice as well. They sounded nothing like an elf, let alone this elf!"
"Mrs Malfoy's right, there's no way it could have been Winky!" Fred said, and his twin nodded fervently.
"She was found with a wand!" Mr Diggory shouted. "You picked it up, didn't you, elf!"
"Winky was not using it!" the elf cried, pulling on her own ears. "Winky was picking it up, yes, but only to keep it safe! Winky is not making Dark Marks, is not knowing how! Winky is not knowing wand magic!"
"We'll see about that," he growled, intent on accusing Winky. "We'll get to the bottom of this! There's a simple spell I can cast that will show us the last spell this wand performed!" He held up both wands, placing their tips together. "Priori Incantato!"
Hazel heard gasps from the crowd as another serpent-tongued skull erupted from Ron's wand, but this was just a shadow of the huge skull still hovering above them, made of thick gray smoke instead of emerald vapor. "A ghost of a spell," she murmured, staring at the false Mark.
"Deletrius," Mr Diggory said, banishing the smoky skull. He turned on Winky again, savage triumph in his face. "So! Caught red handed, elf, with the guilty wand in your hand!"
"Winky is not doing it!" she cried, her tiny body convulsing from the depth of her terror. "Winky is never using wand magic! Winky is a good elf!"
"Amos, think for a second!" Mr Weasley said loudly. "That's a spell not even most wizards can cast, where would a house-elf have learned it?"
Mr Crouch suddenly pushed forward, as if coming to life once again. "Accuse my elf and you accuse ME, Amos," he snarled, getting up into Mr Diggory's face. "Are you suggesting she learned the Dark Mark from her master? From ME?!"
"Wha- I would never!" Diggory spluttered, backing away from Crouch.
"You've accused the three people least likely to cast that spell!" Crouch went on. "Lady Malfoy, who is divorcing her Death Eater husband for everything he has! Arthur's son! And my house elf! This isn't even your department, Amos!"
"It was while the elf was under suspicion!" Diggory shot back, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. "Barty, I wouldn't dare accuse you of such things! After everything you've done to fight them!"
Narcissa stepped between them. "Gentlemen, please calm down," she said placatingly, hands held up to defuse the tension. "Shouting at each other will do nothing for the investigation." She waited for the two men to back down, then turned to Winky. "Winky, where did you find Ronald's wand?"
"In the trees, miss," the elf whispered, pointing once more at the thicket.
"There you are, then." She straightened and regarded them all sternly. "Whoever truly conjured the Mark must have disappeared immediately after casting the spell, leaving the stolen wand behind to mislead us. And this elf was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Winky, did you see anyone?" Mr Weasley asked kindly.
"Winky saw no one, sir," she muttered, shrinking back, her glassy eyes flicking from wizard to wizard.
"Amos, leave the elf with me," Crouch said curtly, turning to Mr Diggory once more. "I realize you are obliged to take her in for questioning, but it is my belief that we have learned all we can from her." Diggory seemed to hesitate, and Crouch sighed. "She will be punished, I promise you. I must take responsibility for her, after all."
"Very well," Mr Diggory replied, relenting at last. Hazel figured it was no use arguing with a Department Head, not in situations like this.
"Um, sir? Mr Crouch? How will you punish her?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "She didn't do anything wrong."
"On the contrary, she disobeyed me several times," he replied coldly. "I ordered her to stay in our tent, to stay out of trouble while the riots were dealt with. And she did not do as she was told! Come, Winky!" He turned on the spot and disappeared, and with a sob, Winky popped away as well.
"On his way to give her clothes, I'm sure," Mr Diggory said, shaking his head. He looked at the stolen wand in his hand, sighed and held it out to Ron. "Here, boy, and my apologies for speaking out of turn."
"Forget it," Ron said sullenly, snatching his wand back and putting it away.
"What do you mean by clothes, sir?" Hermione asked, her voice rising slightly.
"Giving your house-elf an article of wizard's clothing is the only way to release them from your service," Mr Diggory explained, not meeting her eyes. "It must be specifically presented, mind you, it won't count if the elf just picks it up. Or else how could they do our laundry?"
"Come on, you lot, we should get back to the tents," Mr Weasley said, beckoning to the rest of them. Hazel and the others followed after, and one by one the Ministry wizards disappeared into thin air. She took Luna's hand and repressed a yawn; after everything that had happened, she was quite ready for bed.
Notes:This one kinda went on a bit, lol. But so eventful!