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Chapter 236: Mark of the Black Devil

Fred and George had tumbled right over the backs of the rows of chairs, and almost as soon as the Wesleys and their entourage were slightly out of sight, they were in front of Ludo Bagman.

The two men grinned happily and held out their spread palms to Bagman.

"Uh ... this, how much am I supposed to pay you guys again?" His voice was a little hoarse from the passionate commentary he had just given.

"This amount." Fred held out three fingers.

"Oh, three hundred galleons ..." Bagman was slightly relieved, "okay, not too much, let's see ... "

"And don't forget about Professor Dracula's Galleons." George added from the side, "You were setting very high odds, I guess Professor Dracula's share of the win won't be too small, I'm afraid."

Bagman remembered the large sack of gold Galleons that Dracula had thrown at him, and his expression, which was still quite relaxed, stiffened completely, as if a powerful petrification spell had been cast on him.

"Come on, give us our share first." Fred urged.

"That ... I can't come up with that much cash at the moment, you guys need to give me some time." Bagman's face went a little white, and he said with a strong gesture.

"But I always think you have quite a bit of cash here as well." George glanced suspiciously at the pouch hanging from Bagman's waist, which he had jangled from time to time earlier in the camp.

"You're not thinking of reneging, are you?" Fred looked alert.

"How could I? I'm the head of the Ministry of Magic's Sports and Physical Education Division, how could I cheat you two little wizards?"

Bagman snorted awkwardly before pulling out the same amount of gold coins from his own pouch as the galleons Fred and George had wagered on, and returning the strange homemade wands the two of them had made as well.

"Here is your principal," he said with conviction, "and as for the galleons you have won, they will be delivered to you personally as soon as I have raised the funds."

With these words, Bagman hastily butted out of the box and fled the scene like a frightened rabbit.

Fred and George watched Bagman's fleeing back and spread their hands at each other, deciding to leave the matter of debt collection to professionals like Professor Dracula, and went back over a few more rows of chairs to where the Weasleys were seated.

The group stepped down from the box, and soon the crowd that had left the stadium to return to the camp surrounded them like a tidal wave.

As the crowd traveled, ragged chants came through the air, and the pint-sized demons that were the mascots of the Irish team kept weaving and flying above their heads, waving the streamers in their hands and rattling and laughing as a way of expressing their joy at the victory.

The game didn't really take very long, officially starting close to noon and ending before the afternoon was over. It was one of the faster finals in the history of the Quidditch World Cup.

Even though the tournament was over, there would be celebrations, player-fan talks, and interviews with newspaper reporters in the evening after the break.

As a result, most of the fans who had come to watch the Quidditch World Cup would not choose to leave now, but would wait for nightfall and take their chances to see if they could find a photo opportunity with their idols.

After squeezing through the crowd of people, the Weasleys, Harry, and Sirius finally arrived at the campsite tents, but no one felt tired, instead they were in high spirits.

The surrounding area was equally as noisy, with many fans talking about what had just happened in the match.

Some were arguing about fouls, others were discussing who the best player of the game was, and still others were arguing with red faces about whose idol was better.

In the distance on the other side of the camp, many rousing chants and loud banging cascaded through the restless air for a long time.

"Oh, it's a good thing it isn't my turn to be on duty ... to-day," muttered Mr. Weasley, heartily, as he listened to the boisterous voices outside the tent; "and it's a good thing it won't be necessary for me to tell the Irish to stop rejoicing in their triumphs, or it's truly unimaginable."

Harry ate the dinner Sirius had bought for him from a passing vendor, his mind unconsciously conjuring up some of Viktor Krum's best moves.

He fantasized about riding up to his Firebolt and attempting Krum's beautiful Lansky fake ... Oliver Wood, the previous captain of Gryffindor, had somehow never taught him how such a fake was supposed to be done, even though he had also devised a lot of messy schematics.

Of course, it was more likely that Wood himself didn't know these moves ...

Harry imagined, as if he saw himself wearing the robes with his name on the back, and imagined hearing the deafening cheers of the 100,000 spectators, and his mood couldn't help but become a little exuberant.

"Harry, Harry! Do you hear something out there?"

Just as Harry was lost in his imagination, Ginny's voice suddenly rang in his ears.

"What ... what is it?" He asked as he snapped out of his imagination and turned his head.

Harry realized that Ginny's face was slightly flustered and one hand was gripping his sleeve tightly.

He instantly felt that something was wrong.

The voices in the camp changed, the singing stopped, and the sounds of shrieking and people running in panic were endless.

Harry hurriedly put his still unfinished bowl of food down and wanted to go ask what was going on outside.

At that moment, Sirius was the first to lift the tent's curtain and said eagerly, "It's too late, Harry! You younger ones catch up with us and hurry!"

The adults had all been outside having a few small drinks around the campfire, and the underage wizards weren't allowed to drink, so they had all stayed inside the tent to eat their dinner.

And Sirius and the few adult wizards were the first to notice the mess in the distance.

Harry did as he was told, pulled Ginny up and hurried out of the tent, with Ron and Hermione following him.

It was now dusk, the sky was already darkening, and the camp hadn't had time to light torches, so their eyes couldn't clearly see what was really happening in the distance.

Standing next to the tents, Harry could only see the wizards running in droves towards the woods next to the camp, as if fleeing from some group of people who were chasing towards them.

There were flashes of light and crackling noises from the group - loud sneers, laughter, drunken yelling, all drawing closer as the group moved.

Then there was a flash of intense green light that illuminated everything around them.

Harry saw that the group was a bunch of wizards in black cloaks huddled tightly together, each pointing their wands upwards in their hands as they pushed forward together, slowly moving through the camp.

The men had hoods over their heads and masks over their faces. Above their heads, four struggling figures floated in the air, twisted into all sorts of grotesque shapes, as if these masked wizards on the ground were manipulators of puppets, and the ones above them were marionettes, controlled by invisible strings attached from their wands into the air.

As the group advanced, more wizards joined the parade, letting loose with laughter and pointing their wands at the few bodies floating above them.

As the parade continued to grow, tents continued to collapse, and even wizards in the middle of the parade used their wands to set the tents in their path on fire.

Many of the tents burned under the spread of fire. The screams from the campsite became more piercing.

"That's the Muggle Roberts family who run the campsite tents!" Mr. Weasley's face was a little hard to see, "Damn it, how could there be such a large group of terrorists at a World Cup game?"

"Their costumes and behavior ... look a little familiar." Sirius narrowed his eyes and coldly gazed at the crowd that was controlling the Muggle family.

In the next moment, his eyes suddenly snapped, "I know, those people are Death Eaters!"

"Death Eaters?" Mr. Weasley turned his head to Sirius in dismay, "Haven't they been out of sight for a long time, why did they have to come out today?"

"Who knows, just arrest them and ask them!" Sirius clutched his wand tightly in his hand and was about to charge the mob.

His hatred for Death Eaters and Voldemort was engraved in his heart, and at this moment, when he saw this group of people unscrupulously making a big deal of breaking illusions at the scene of the Quidditch World Cup final, the anger in his heart could not be suppressed at all.

"Sirius, you can't go!" Mr. Weasley suddenly reached out his hand and yanked the impulsive Sirius, "You've only just cleared yourself of being a Death Eater, and now if you show up with those Death Eaters again, Fudge and Umbridge will definitely seize the opportunity to plant evidence on you!"

"So just leave those Death Eaters alone?" Sirius frowned tightly.

"Of course we can't leave them alone." Mr. Weasley said solemnly, rolling up his own sleeves as he did so, "There are quite a few other upstanding Ministry of Magic members present here, and we'll be there to help keep order."

He then turned to Harry and a few other young wizards, "You little ones get into the woods and walk together, don't spread out! I'll catch up with you when this is settled!"

"Harry, keep an eye on your godfather and don't let him do anything impulsive!"

After delivering these instructions, Mr. Weasley hurriedly rejoined several other Ministry of Magic members who were not on duty, and together they rushed to where the Death Eaters were converging.

Harry nodded, tugged hard on Sirius' arm, and dug into the woods with Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, avoiding the path of the group of Death Eaters.

As the day wore on, the sun got lower and lower and the sky got darker and darker.

When the sun sank completely into the horizon and the sky turned completely black, a huge bright green light suddenly leapt up into the treetops and flew into the night sky.

"What's this-" Ron said nervously. He looked up, staring anxiously at the bright light that had just appeared.

Harry looked up similarly.

He thought at first that it was a graphic formed by Ireland's pair of mascot dwarf demons, but then he realized that it was a huge skeleton, made up of countless turquoise, star-like points of light, with a large boa constrictor emerging from the skeleton's mouth, like a tongue.

As they watched, the skeleton rose higher and higher, emitting a dazzling light in a cloud of greenish smoke, like a new constellation against the dark night sky.

Suddenly, gurgling screams of terror erupted from the woods around them.

Harry didn't understand the origin of the screams, only that the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skeleton. The skull had risen so high now that it illuminated the woods like a terrifying neon sign.

"Black magic marker."

Sirius said suddenly.

"What?" Harry asked, not quite hearing him, and opened his mouth.

"The Black Magic Mark, the signal Death Eaters use to contact their associates." Sirius said and suddenly gave a disdainful laugh, "These people in the forest didn't realize until now that the tightly wrapped wizards were Death Eaters, and they didn't feel scared until this moment."

"If you ask me, these people are all a bunch of cowards as well, the Death Eaters have been gone for over a decade and they still let it scare them, heh."

Sirius snorted and shook his head, then said to Harry, "Harry, you? Stay here, I'll go over there. That Death Eater who cast the Dark Mark shouldn't be too far from where we are."

"No!" Harry subconsciously pulled Sirius back, "Mr. Weasley said to keep an eye on you to keep you from doing something impulsive."

"That's not exactly an impulsive thing, is it?" Sirius smiled, "I'm just going to take a look around, I can't just let a Death Eater go, can I? Your parents wouldn't have backed out at this point either, Harry."

Hearing Sirius' words, Harry hesitated.

And Sirius took a few quick diagonal steps as Harry hesitated, and without waiting for Harry to express his agreement, he ran to the location that the Dark Marker corresponded to.

"Time waits for no one, I'll be quick." He shouted back as he was leaving.

After leaving Harry and a few of their young wizards, Sirius first cast an illusionary body spell on himself, and then compared it to the Dark Magic Marker in the sky, walking quickly through the woods.

Before long, he reached the forest below the Dark Magic Marker.

However, he didn't find any traces of Death Eaters here, and instead saw two unexpected people.

Dracula with his trademark silver hair, and the other was the director of the International Magic Exchange and Cooperation Division, Barty Crouch.

At this moment, Dracula and Barty Crouch were standing face to face in a clearing in the middle of a forest, staring at each other.

Dracula's mouth was covered with a few meaningful smiles, while Crouch's face carried a few moments of bewilderment.

"Mr. Crouch, explain yourself, why are you in this place." Dracula was the first to open his mouth to break the silence.

At the same time, he spared a glance in Sirius' direction and waved his hand slightly at him.