For more than an hour before, Cedric and the others had already suffered enough keeping company with the Fire Dragon inside the box.
But compared to Kreacher, that torment was nothing at all.
Kreacher never expected that he'd just gone out to fetch a bucket of water, only to return and find everyone in the tent had vanished. Then wizards in the camp started fighting, dangerous Charms flying everywhere.
Especially when the Killing Curse appeared, the poor little Elf nearly died of fright on the spot.
It wasn't that he cared much about Conna, it was mainly because Regulus still needed Snape's help…
To make Regulus look more like a person and not some monster, Conna absolutely couldn't get hurt, not even a scratch.
So, the terrified little Elf started crying as he searched for Conna's whereabouts.
Throughout that hour, he checked nearly every tent, knocked a dozen wayward wizards aside, and almost turned the entire camp upside down.
Luckily, just when he was about to lose hope, he finally heard Conna's voice again.
To prevent the same thing from happening, Kreacher, the moment he got into the tent, immediately brought her away via Apparition.
The whole process was downright swift and decisive; Conna didn't even have time to say a word to the others.
"Uh…" The others exchanged bewildered glances.
"Alright, we'd better head back too," Mr. Weasley said. "The Dark Mark has appeared above the camp, and I imagine the news will spread quickly. To save your parents from worrying, it's best to return as soon as possible."
As he spoke, Mr. Weasley got up and left the tent, "I'll see if I can get a Portkey ahead of schedule. You stay here and don't wander off."
...
"Dark Mark?" After Mr. Weasley left, Harry asked doubtfully, "Is that the skull-shaped thing in the sky? What is it?"
"The mark of You-Know-Who," said Bill. "It's also the thing people feared seeing most ten or so years ago. Places with the Dark Mark usually mean You-Know-Who has been there."
"But You-Know-Who is dead," Harry said.
"But the Death Eaters aren't," Bill thought of the Malfoys and their lot, "What we saw tonight was probably the remnants of those people… some of them managed to escape, weren't locked up in Azkaban."
"But it ends here," Charlie said, smiling, "They were caught on the spot, caught red-handed, and Headmaster Maxime testified. Ha!"
Charlie happily took a gulp of water, though what he really wanted was a drink. Too bad there wasn't even hot cocoa, just water.
"Luckily you weren't in the forest just then."
Bill tidied his already messy ponytail and said, "Death Eaters are cruel, merciless sorts. If you happened to be nearby when they conjured the Dark Mark, you'd be in real trouble."
"But… why did the Death Eaters conjure the Dark Mark?" Hermione asked slowly. "I mean, what's the point? Just to scare people?"
"Who knows," Bill shrugged. "Maybe they had a bit too much to drink and couldn't resist pulling a cheerful little stunt… Before Voldemort's downfall, they did that all the time." He showed a look of disgust.
Harry didn't catch what was said after that; his head was buzzing. Unconsciously, he walked outside the tent and gazed at the skull in the sky, lost in thought, not sure what he was thinking.
Half an hour later, Mr. Weasley finally returned.
He wasn't alone—Fudge, Crouch, Bagman, and several other Ministry of Magic officials came with him.
They entered the tent quickly, crowding Harry, fussing over him.
Mr. Weasley had let slip earlier, and now they found out Harry Potter had almost been killed; Fudge's face turned pale with fright, even more than when he saw the Dark Mark earlier.
If Harry had really been killed by Death Eaters right under the Ministry's nose, he'd be drowned in Howlers for sure.
After Fudge, it was Crouch; he grabbed Harry's shoulder, his face shockingly pale, hands and his toothbrush-shaped mustache twitching!
"The person who tried to kill you—where are they!" he demanded.
"In the woods," Harry replied.
"Do you remember the way?" Crouch asked.
"Yes."
"Good, lead us…"
Then, the group went to the woods where they'd been earlier.
The Ministry worker in charge of registration—who Kael had knocked out before—was still lying beneath a tree.
Upon seeing him, Crouch seemed to relax a lot, his face back to normal, his demeanor once again meticulous.
Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, stepped up to check, then poured a bottle of Magic Potion onto his face.
"Not Polyjuice Potion," he told Fudge and Crouch. "Feels like he was hit with Imperio."
"It's too soon to draw conclusions," Crouch said coldly. "Wake him up and take him back to the Ministry for proper questioning."
A few Beaters came over and took the man away.
"Minister," Mr. Weasley walked up just then and said, "It's too dangerous for Harry to stay here. I'd like to take him back right away if possible."
"No," Crouch said, keeping a stern face. "We need to know more details. He can't leave yet."
"Barty, I think this could wait until we're at the Ministry," said a witch in a wool dressing gown. "The child's terrified. Let him calm down—he could remember even more details."
"Ah, yes, you're right," Fudge fiddled with his hat.
Someone nearby got the hint and brought over an old tire.
Fudge handed it to Mr. Weasley, then looked at Harry and said, "Kid, remember to come to the Ministry later. How about tomorrow? Before then, think carefully about everything that happened—the more detailed, the better."
Harry, still confused, glanced at Mr. Weasley, and when he saw he wasn't objecting, nodded.
Crouch was unhappy, but Fudge had made the call, so he could only turn and leave with a cold face.
The others left too, leaving only a few Aurors on watch nearby.
Before departing, Fudge reminded Mr. Weasley to make sure not to forget bringing Harry to the Ministry tomorrow.
Mr. Weasley promised. Then they gathered around the tire, ready to return to Weasel Mountain.
While waiting, Kael looked toward the Portkey distribution point not far away.
The line was even longer than before, and people kept flooding in.
Everyone wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. If they queued normally, they might not be able to leave even by noon.
"Ten seconds left. Everyone get ready," Mr. Weasley said.
Everyone put their hands on the tire.
Kael turned his head one last time to glance towards the direction of the camp.
The crisis was over, and more people were returning to camp to check if their tents had been destroyed. For a moment, angry shouting filled the air everywhere.
Suddenly, Kael caught sight of a familiar face flashing through the crowd.
Golden hair, a dazzling peacock-blue robe, and those teeth sparkling even in the dark.
Gilderoy Lockhart?
Kael rubbed his eyes, wanting to see more clearly, but with just that bit of distraction, the man had disappeared.
...