Chapter 104: The Shadow of the Dark Mark
As soon as he heard the screams from the camp, Harry Potter got dressed and rushed out as quickly as possible with his good friend Ron.
He saw Ginny, dressed in a white dressing gown, running out of the next tent in a panic, yelling, "Hermione isn't in bed, her wand isn't there... where did she go?"
"You guys - get into the woods quickly, walk together, don't spread out! We're helping the Ministry maintain order, and we'll keep an eye on her!" Mr. Weasley's voice was heard above the noise, and he quickly rolled up his sleeves as he shouted.
Harry saw Bill, Charlie, and Percy following behind Mr. Weasley, all dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and wands in hand, ready to go with their father to restore order.
There was no time to lose. Fred had already grabbed Ginny's hand and was dragging her, still looking around for Hermione, into the woods. Harry and Ron followed them, hurrying down the path.
The woods were already densely packed with wizards. Some of them were wearing dressing gowns and yawning sleepily, not understanding what was happening; others were wearing Irish team colors, with a bunch of decorations hanging around their necks, and looked terrified.
But at this moment, no matter what kind of clothes they wore or which team they supported, it seemed less important. People mixed together like an overturned palette, leaning their heads to look towards the campfire, talking or complaining, huddled together and buzzing like a swarm of bees that had lost their home.
In the chaos and noise, Harry and Ron got separated from Fred and the others in just a few turns. To make matters worse, Harry's wand had disappeared without a trace.
"Lumos." Ron raised his wand, letting the thin beam of light illuminate more of the ground, trying to help Harry find the damn wand as quickly as possible. But Harry searched around and searched, but still found nothing.
"Did it fall out while you were running just now?" Ron asked with a frown.
"Probably," said Harry vexatiously.
A feeling of helplessness washed over him. He realized how miserable it was to be without his wand. All those words Draco had told him to take good care of his wand were now truly taking effect.
But it was too late now. Reality was closing in on them, forbidding them to delay any longer. They heard a deafening explosion coming from the edge of the woods, echoing in the night air for a long time.
"Harry, let's go first, okay?" Ron listened for a while and said nervously.
Harry was thinking this. Ron's judgment was correct; it wasn't a good place to stay for long. He had no choice but to put the search for the wand aside and prioritize escaping to safety.
The two boys, somewhat dejected, walked further into the dark woods, hoping to run into George, Fred and Ginny, and even harboring a faint hope that they could find the whereabouts of Hermione who had mysteriously disappeared.
They passed a group of chattering and laughing leprechauns - they seemed ignorant and fearless, not afraid at all; then they passed a few beautiful veela - a group of young wizards were gathered around them, noisily showing off the absurd and bizarre life achievements they had come up with.
"Come on, Ron, stop looking." Harry pulled his friend away with all his strength, not daring to stay any longer. They walked deeper and deeper until they reached the center of the woods.
Everything here fell silent, and the explosions seemed to be far away from them.
In the silence, the faint voice of a young boy and girl talking seemed particularly clear. The voice came from behind a dense bush somewhere.
"Hey... be gentle..." the girl panted softly.
"Okay..." The boy was breathing deeply, and his tone sounded nervous.
"No, it hurts too much..." The girl gasped, her voice filled with a hint of pain. Harry heard that it seemed to be Hermione's voice.
"Bear with it...it will be over soon..." The boy's voice seemed to be Draco? Harry was a little unsure, because he had never heard Draco speak so gently. His voice was usually calmer, even colder.
But who else could Hermione be so close to except that Slytherin boy?
"What are they doing?" Ron, who had vaguely figured out their identities, asked Harry softly, his eyes wide open.
"I don't know either," Harry practically mouthed. He swallowed and exchanged glances with Ron, both of them exuding the same curiosity and gossip.
They crept forward and peered from behind the bushes toward the source of the sound.
It was indeed Hermione. She was sitting on a large rock, and someone's once straight black suit jacket suddenly appeared on her, looking a little wrinkled.
At this moment, she didn't have her usual arrogant or strong demeanor at all, and actually looked a little weak.
Draco, wearing a black shirt with his sleeves casually rolled up, half-knelt in front of her, one hand supporting her bare ankle and the other holding the instep of her foot, gently and slowly rocking it.
The girl seemed to be on the verge of tears because of this action. Draco looked up at her tearful face, then quickly lowered his head and said softly, "Good girl...it will be fine soon..."
Harry and Ron looked at each other with wide eyes, as if they had seen a ghost.
This morning, Hermione was like Mrs. Weasley, banging on the door to wake them up. She was the devil who confiscated their brooms and didn't allow them to play with them if they didn't finish their homework during the holidays. But tonight, she suddenly changed into the soft and gentle "good girl" in Draco's eyes?
Draco was very brave, Harry thought.
A few months ago, she had punched Draco so hard that Harry and Ron felt pain watching.
Didn't Draco have any psychological trauma? How dare he provoke her?
What's more, surprisingly, this arrogant young lady who hates being looked down upon has no objection to this title?
She even said "hmm" pitifully in a crying voice to the platinum-haired boy in front of her?
Harry and Ron exchanged silent glances, expressing their dissatisfaction and shock. Suddenly, they heard a "click" in the darkness - the sound of bones returning to their original positions.
"Alright. It shouldn't be dislocated now." Draco slowly placed her foot on his knee, smiled at her, and said in a gentler voice, "Try to move your ankle. Can you move it?"
Hermione tried to move her ankle and suddenly found that it moved freely again.
"You're really good, Draco!" She sniffed and couldn't help but admire.
"It's best not to move around for the next two or three days. You still need to rest." Draco felt relieved and helped her put on her socks and shoes, his movements still very gentle.
Hermione didn't move, just sat there obediently, watching his movements. He finished putting on her shoes, looked up at her, and there was a hint of worry in his tone: "What's wrong? Why are you so dazed? Are you still not feeling well?"
"No," she mumbled, and in the moonlight Harry saw a blush that seemed to ignite in Hermione's face.
"We thought you were doing something..." Ron came out from behind the bushes, wand in hand, his tone full of disappointment. Harry followed him out, his hands empty.
"Harry, Ron, thank God! You're all right!" Hermione said in surprise. Then, she looked at them suspiciously, "What do you think we are doing?"
"It's... this, that..." Ron felt a little embarrassed by her question and his tone became unclear.
A blush appeared on Draco's pale and thin face. He was also a boy, and he roughly knew what kind of things were going on in the minds of boys of his age.
"What are you doing here? Harry, where is your wand?" After a slight panic, he regained his composure. He glanced sharply at Harry's empty hand and asked incisively.
"Lost." Harry's mood dropped visibly.
"Are you related to that Longbottom?" Draco asked sternly.
Longbottom had lost his wand quite a bit last term.
"No," said Harry, a little irritated.
"You need to be more careful about how you store your wand. Stop putting it in your back pocket of your jeans," Draco said seriously. "That's like telling all thieves to come and take it."
Harry had regretted it for a long time. He whispered, "I'll take your advice...if I can still find it."
Hermione, standing beside her, was no longer blushing. Suddenly remembering something, she interrupted and asked, "Where's Ginny? Is she okay?"
"Oh, she's fine. George and Fred are taking her—" Ron said casually.
Suddenly, there was a stumbling sound of footsteps behind a cluster of dark bushes, as if someone was walking towards them, one foot high and one foot low.
Harry was about to shout something to greet the man, but he saw Draco put his index finger on his lips, signaling them to be quiet.
On such a dangerous night, how could one act rashly before being sure whether they were friend or foe? Draco thought it would be better to hold back for now.
Without any warning, a man's voice suddenly broke the silence - it was a spell - "The corpse reappears."
Then, a huge green skeleton emerged from the darkness, with a snake coming out of its mouth. It flew over the treetops and into the air, causing screams of fear to erupt from the surrounding woods.
Draco's face turned pale immediately.
Of course he knew what it was—it was the Dark Mark. All the dark memories of his past life seemed to come flooding back, and a huge sense of terror made him dizzy.
He remembered that the Dark Mark had appeared on the night of the Quidditch World Cup in his previous life. The problem was, he hadn't experienced it firsthand. In his previous life, he'd only vaguely seen it at the edge of the woods. Back then, he hadn't understood what the mark meant, but he'd simply thought it was a novelty, a bit cool even.
Now, being there was a completely different experience, especially when there might be a Death Eater nearby.
He suppressed his fear and quickly stood in front of the stone where Hermione was, holding his wand tightly in his hand, with the tip of the wand pointed warily at the dark bushes where the spell was released, fearing that a more terrible spell would suddenly be released from there, fearing that some Death Eaters would jump out and harm her.
However, by the huge light rising from the skull, Draco could gradually determine that there was no one there.
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing to the sky before he could comprehend how dangerous he had just been.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, also unaware.
"That's the Dark Mark, the symbol of You-Know-Who! I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts!" Hermione said palely as she tried to stand up from the stone. She jumped twice on one leg and tugged at the corner of Draco's clothes. "It's dangerous here. Let's go."
"Yes. We must leave immediately." Draco reacted quickly after she reminded him. As soon as he finished speaking, he saw about twenty wizards descending from the sky and surrounding them. They took out their wands -
Draco shouted without hesitation, "Hide!" He didn't care about Harry and Ron who were farther away, and quickly hugged Hermione who was unable to react and fell to the ground to hide.
He turned nimbly, cushioning himself with his back, rolled on the grass, and finally bent over to cover her under him.
These actions were almost all completed in a split second, more like instinctive reactions than careful thinking.
"Faint!" About twenty voices shouted at the same time a second later.
Hermione's heartbeat and breathing seemed to have been paused. Everything happened so fast. Before she could even think, Draco suddenly hugged her.
The world was spinning.
She rolled inexplicably on the cool grass, held tightly in his arms. From above his shoulders, which smelled of cedar, she saw a series of dazzling flashes.
In an instant, beams of burning red light crossed each other above their heads, hit the tree trunks, and bounced back into the darkness.
They were like crazy and fiery red meteors, carrying deadly danger, impacting the sky above their bodies.
She couldn't imagine what would have happened to her if Draco hadn't pounced on her so quickly. She might have been hit.
Or maybe she had been hit. She had been hit hard by him.
In the flickering red light and the cold moonlight filtering through the treetops, she could see a messy strand of hair falling over his furrowed brow. She could hear his nervous breathing and see that his face was pale.
His expression didn't look as calm and composed as usual, but his tightly pursed lips revealed a sense of determination.
Neither of them dared to move until the spells ceased. Her hands clutched the back of his shirt, trembling slightly. His hand was resting on the back of her head, and another on her waist. He was carefully protecting her, even though he was trembling slightly.
Hermione could feel him trembling, she could even feel his heartbeat, that intense heartbeat like a drum, through his black shirt, hitting her clothes.
He wrapped her so tightly like a warm gift wrapping paper with the scent of cedar, which made everything about him felt extremely clearly by her heart.
"Draco..." She subconsciously whispered his name, as if that would give her a sense of security. That feeling came again, that inextricable attachment to him, terrifying yet overwhelming.
What could she do? In that terrifying moment, his embrace brought her to the brink of despair. She desperately buried herself in the boy's arms. This boy, who treated her like a sister, was her only sure safety in this turbulent time.
With him, no matter how deadly the red light or the ground bumped against her, it couldn't hurt her. He once again used his body to shield her from danger. Why would he do this to her? She called out his name between breaths, feeling perhaps even more hopeless.
"I'm here... Don't be afraid," he said. He quickly tilted his head, his cool cheek brushing against hers. He turned to check if she was okay, but suddenly looked into her eyes, as she turned to look at him.
At that moment, she met his gray eyes. They blinked anxiously, as if afraid she would disappear. She knew there was a hint of confusion in them, something indefinable. It rose from the sudden, violent pounding of her heart and reached her eyes.
Amidst the pounding of her heart, she suddenly realized that she couldn't escape from his worried eyes. Her soul was probably twisted into a straight line by his eyes, and was sucked away from her pupils by him.
As their eyes met, a second stretched into eternity. In that eternal gaze, she felt the warm breath between them brushing against each other.
If he moved any closer to her, or she moved any closer to him, she was sure their lips would touch immediately. She parted her lips, blinked in confusion, and suddenly felt the hand on the back of her head tighten.
Draco tilted his face slightly despite himself.
They were face to face now, so close that he could feel a subtle attraction. The faint sweet, youthful scent of her was making him almost lose control.
For a moment, the thought of the Dark Mark seemed to fade away from him.
There was only one strange thought in his mind: her lips were so close. If he got any closer -
"Stop!" At this time, Mr. Weasley shouted in horror from a distance, "Stop! That's my son!"
The wizarding officials of the Ministry of Magic slowly walked forward and surrounded them, their wands no longer pointed at them.
Hermione came back to her senses in panic. She turned her head to the other side to check the situation and found that Harry and Ron were helping each other to stand up not far away. They seemed to be unharmed.
The scream jolted Draco awake. He closed his eyes, abruptly moving away from her bright eyes, her soft, cloud-like cheeks, and her lips that were within reach.
He gasped, blinked, and came to his senses. He quickly stood up, holding her waist and pulling her up from where she was.
The flickering Dark Mark in the sky brought his sanity back. Worry returned to his heart, and panic took over his mind again.
Draco could foresee that appearing awkwardly in such an occasion would be troublesome for him, a Malfoy.
Sure enough, Barty Crouch came up quickly, his sharp eyes darting between the four of them. He snapped, "Which of you did this? Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"
"We didn't!" "We didn't do anything!" These were the voices of Harry and Ron, who looked confused and angry.
Hermione saw Ron looking angrily at Mr. Weasley and asking, "Why did you attack us?"
"Don't lie, sir!" Barty Crouch said gruffly to Harry and Ron - currently the only wizard with a wand pointed at them.
Then, he glanced around at them, his bulging eyes finding their home - Draco - and shouted: "Aha! Look who I found? I found a Malfoy! I finally caught him! It's you, you who conjured the Dark Mark!"
How could he just bite someone? Hermione was astonished. Mr. Crouch's wand tip was about to poke Draco in the face. But Draco turned his head away arrogantly, not intending to explain any more.
Seeing this, Mr. Weasley hesitated, remembering his conflict with Lucius Malfoy. But he still stood up and said: "He is just a child -"
"Arthur, this is none of your business—" Mr. Crouch, keeping the terrifying look on his face, approached Draco without even glancing at Mr. Weasley.
Mr. Crouch, how could he be such an indiscriminate person? Hermione opened her eyes wide, unable to believe it.
"No, it's not him!" Hermione clutched the boy's slightly cold hand, a little angry. She tried to calmly say to Mr. Crouch, "He didn't do anything. The only thing he did was protect me from being attacked by you."
"He was found at the crime scene! You don't understand, his father—" Mr. Crouch obviously didn't take her words to heart. He didn't even look at her, still staring at Draco relentlessly, "He has a criminal record!"
"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, "they're only children, Barty, there's no way they could—"
"Where did you four get this mark from?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously. Mr. Crouch stared at Draco fiercely, but still did not retract his wand.
Draco remained coldly silent. This harsh treatment and suspicion from the Ministry officials suddenly reminded him of a moment in his past life, when his father was arrested as a Death Eater.
They would just aggressively ask the questions they wanted to ask, state their positions, and display their arrogance; they didn't really want any answer from him.
Besides, he knew Barty Crouch's aggressive nature, and he was quite sure that nothing he said now would be of any use, and that any rebuttal would only bring worse treatment.
Those arrogant officials of the Ministry of Magic have always been like this. They don't listen to anyone's explanation, just talk to themselves and sentence anyone on their own.
Then, he remembered more things. His father's sleeves were roughly pulled up by the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, and the Dark Mark on his arm made them look at him with disdain; and then he stood before the Dark Lord, ignorant and clueless, and was "bestowed" with the "glory" of the Dark Mark by him, leaving this painful "glory" on his arm...
Draco stood frozen in place, suddenly unable to move.
For a moment, he was bombarded with bad memories. It was terrible, and he felt like his insides were being shattered.
Maintaining a cool exterior was the only thing he could do at the moment. He couldn't utter a word because he was afraid that if he spoke, he would roar or collapse.
Hermione's reaction was completely different from Draco's. She didn't care about the Ministry of Magic, nor did she care how high-ranking Barty Crouch was.
She pulled the silent, innocent boy behind her, raised her face proudly, and faced Mr. Crouch's wand with her fur standing up like an angry cat.
Draco looked at her in surprise, at the petite girl in front of him, not knowing where she got so much strength from, nor what she wanted to do now.
He tried to pull her away from Mr. Crouch's wand, but she tugged him back at her more forcefully, her eyes blazing.
She finally broke out Harry and Ron to Draco mentioned that belong to Hermione Granger's tough, fierce side. She seemed to have never known how to write "weak".
Draco stared at her blankly, watching her stare back at Mr. Crouch's madly bulging eyes, her arm pointed straight at the place where they had just heard the sound, and said firmly, word by word, "I tell you again, it's definitely not him! Someone behind the tree spoke loudly, and then chanted a spell. We all heard it!"
"Oh, that man was standing there, wasn't he?" Mr. Crouch didn't move, but his eyes became more fierce. Finally, he turned his eyes to Hermione, his face full of suspicion. "And he said a spell, didn't he? You seem to know how to make the mark very well, miss -"
Hermione didn't move. She stood straight in front of Draco, her lips pursed, looking unafraid.
She even tightened her grip on her wand, not raising the tip yet, but holding it tight.
As for Harry, Ron, and even Mr. Weasley, they were all stunned by the confrontation.
"Please, Barty, she's still a child!" The square-jawed witch in a woolen dressing gown glanced at Hermione, her thick eyebrows raised high, and the monocle on her face seemed about to slide down. "I know her. She is a classmate of my niece, a Muggle-born child! She has no way of knowing all this, and besides, they can't conjure that kind of thing at their age!"
The wizarding officials of the Ministry agreed with the witch's opinion. They all seemed to believe that the children were innocent, and pointed their wands in the direction Hermione had pointed, peering into the dark bushes.
"We're too late." The witch looked through her monocle for a moment and shook her head. "They've already Disapparated."
"I don't think so," said a red-faced wizard with a short brown beard. "Our Stunning Spell went right into these bushes... We could have hit them..."
Draco recognized him as Amos Diggory, Cedric Diggory's father. He looked energetic, completely different from the grief-stricken look he had shown at the Triwizard Tournament final in his previous life.
Mr. Diggory, chest puffed out, wand raised, strode across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness, only to be heard shouting a moment later as he brought out from behind a bush an even more suspicious and even more pitiful suspect—a house-elf.
"That's Winky, the house-elf in the corner of the top box. She belongs to the Crouch family." The wizards nearby began to whisper.
Now, Barty Crouch became his imaginary enemy, and his sights were finally no longer on Hermione or Draco.
He stared at Shanshan for a while, and then went to look in the bushes with a pale face, as if he wanted to find another scapegoat.
But he returned empty-handed and found nothing.
"She has a wand in her hand..." said Mr. Diggory, holding up a wand for demonstration. "This is the wand that cast the Dark Mark." The wizards and witches gathered together to see the wand.
After Barty Crouch stopped threatening Draco, Hermione finally relaxed her tense body. She breathed a sigh of relief, turned to look at the boy behind her, and smiled softly at him.
The boy's eyes flashed, his face pale and surprised, he looked at her, his mouth moving slightly, as if he wanted to say something to her. She was about to move closer to him when she heard Harry scream - the wand was the one he had lost.
Amidst the chaotic debate, officials from the Ministry of Magic pieced together a possible fact from various details: someone stole Harry's wand, released the Dark Mark and threw it in the woods; and the unlucky Winky happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and picked up the wand.