Emma Potter

91: The Dark Mark

"Get up! Ginny — Emma, Hermione — come on now, get up, this is urgent!" 

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit canvas." 'S' matter?"I said.

 Dimly,I could tell that something was wrong. The noises inthe campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I could hearscreams, and the sound of people running. I slipped down fromthe bunk and reached for my clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who hadpulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, Emma —just grab a jacket and get outside — quickly!"

 I did as I was told and hurried out of the tent, Ginny and Hermione at my heels. 

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could seepeople running away into the woods, fleeing something that wasmoving across the field toward us, something that was emittingodd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars oflaughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward us; then camea burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. 

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together withwands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across thefield. I squinted at them. . . . They didn't seem to havefaces. . . . Then I realized that their heads were hooded and theirfaces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, fourstruggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. 

Itwas as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers,and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisiblestrings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figureswere very small.

 More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing andpointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of themarchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caughtfire. The screaming grew louder.

 The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passedover a burning tent and I recognized one of them: Mr.Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as thoughthey might be his wife and children. One of the marchers belowflipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdressfell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to coverherself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee. 

"That's sick," I muttered, watching the smallest Mugglechild, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above theground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is reallysick. . . ." 

Harry, Ron, Fred and George came hurrying toward us, pulling coatsover their night clothes, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. Atthe same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys'tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

 "We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over allthe noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot — get into thewoods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sortedthis out!" 

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward theoncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizardswere dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble.The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

 "C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pullher toward the wood. Me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. We all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; we could see theMinistry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards inthe center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked asthough they were scared to perform any spell that might make theRoberts family fall. 

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium hadbeen extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees;children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. I felt myselfbeing pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he couldnot see.