Chronicles Of Arth: Prince Of Shadows

The rest of the process went by in a haze.

Mr. Crouch's elf, Winky, was found with a wand. The wand was checked by Mr. Diggory and it turned out that the wand that Winky was holding was the wand that had conjured the Dark Mark.

Although everyone thought that it was ridiculous that a house elf could possibly conjure a Dark Mark, Barty Crouch seemed to take a great offense towards this act.

He fired Winky on the spot and left looking as if he had aged a hundred years.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley.

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

"Hermione. . . . Can we not talk about this right now?" Said Arth with a wry smile. "Everyone here isn't in the mood to talk right now."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but saw the look on Scarlett's face and sighed.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

Mr. Weasley took them back to their tents, all the while being barraged by questions from wizards from all around.

The moment Arth made it to the tent, Arth immediately hit the bed. He was to tired to notice that Scarlett had turned back into a snake and crawled up his arm.

Mr. Weasley woke them after only a few hours sleep.

Hermione went full ballista on Arth when she discovered that Scarlett was sleeping on the same bed as Arth.

Mr. Weasley used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."

Arth waved his hand at Mr. Roberts who didn't reply. It seemed that Mr. Roberts had forgotten all about him as well.

"He'll be all right," said Mr. Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while . . . and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

They took a portkey to the Burrow and the moment the opened the door, Mrs. Weasley came bursting out of the house.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur — I've been so worried — so worried —"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Arth saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and- white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive. . . . Oh boys . . ."

Mr. Weasley went up with Mrs. Weasley to calm her down while, Arth, Scarlett, and the others made their way to Ron's bedroom.

When the door was closed, Harry told them that his scar had hurt before the whole World Cup fiasco happened.

Arth frowned.

When Harry's scar hurt, it meant that good old Tom Riddle was up to something.

Seeing the glum look on Harry's face, Ron attempted to cheer him up.

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry," said Ron. "Come on — three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play. . . . You can try out the Wronski Feint. . . ."

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very- s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e sort of voice, "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now. . . . He's worried, and he's tired. . . . We all need to go to bed. . . ."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well I guess that me and Arth and. . . . Scarlett will be sensible and-"

"Do you want to play too Arth?"

Hermione went a glare at Ron.

Arth raised his hands up defensively.

"I've never played before so I might be bad."

Ron brushed it off with a wave of a hand.

"Oh shut it Arthur, we all remember how well you flew during your first year. Remember? The Remebrall incident."

Arth sighed.

"Fine, if I must."

Hermione left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like "Boys." However, a few minutes later, she was seen watching Arth play Quidditch along with Scarlett.