Witches and wizards from all over the world numbered in the tens of thousands. Even though many had left immediately after the match ended, there were still nearly ten thousand people staying the night.
If even a fraction of the adult wizards present had organized themselves, subduing a few dozen Death Eaters would have been effortless.
But most of them were traveling with families. With loved ones to protect, their first instinct wasn't resistance—it was escape.
"Head back to the Portkey area," Arthur said calmly and decisively. "Stay close to me. Don't get separated."
Under his command, the Weasley family didn't panic. They quickly moved in the direction they had come from.
Unfortunately, life was always full of cruel irony. Accidents were called accidents precisely because they happened at the worst possible moments.
As they were retreating, Harry glanced back at the Death Eaters. That brief hesitation was enough—he was separated from the Weasleys.
He tried to force his way through the crowd to catch up with Ron and the others, but the panicked mass carried him in the opposite direction.
The Death Eaters were drawing closer.
With no time to think, Harry picked a random direction and ran.
Perhaps because he was shorter than most adults—or because he was hunched over as he ran—a fleeing wizard's knee slammed straight into Harry's head.
The blow knocked him unconscious instantly.
"Harry! Harry, wake up!"
Lily no longer cared about hiding herself. She burst out of Harry's pocket, desperately shaking him, trying to rouse him.
But the man who had collided with Harry clearly hadn't held back. No matter how Lily tried, Harry didn't respond.
Just then, a cloak dropped over both Lily and Harry.
Lily startled, then turned—and saw Severus Snape's unmistakable face.
The cloak was Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
Yes. Snape was here as well.
After Arthur's warning, Snape hadn't brought Lia with him. Instead, he had come alone, concealing his presence, curious about the "small accident" Arthur had mentioned.
At first, when the Quidditch World Cup proceeded normally, Snape thought Arthur's prediction had been wrong.
Fortunately, Snape hadn't brought Lia. Otherwise, she would have seen him lose control earlier.
Even powerful wizards could resist Veela charm only if they were prepared. Snape hadn't been—he never expected Bulgaria to use Veela as mascots.
Then, just as Snape thought the event would end peacefully, the "accident" arrived.
Dozens of Death Eaters stormed the campsite, setting fires and spreading chaos.
Snape nearly wanted to drag Arthur back from the Eastern lands and ask him one thing—
This was a "small accident"?
Facing former colleagues, Snape couldn't reveal himself openly.
So he used Harry's Invisibility Cloak to hide, secretly following Harry to ensure his safety.
When he saw Harry collapse under the crowd's trampling, Snape rushed forward and covered both Harry and Lily with the cloak.
Seeing Snape, Lily felt a wave of relief.
"Severus… what are you doing here?" she whispered.
"Shh," Snape said sharply, signaling her to stay quiet.
Through the edge of the cloak, they could see the Death Eaters drawing nearer.
Perhaps afraid of being identified, they were wrapped tightly in cloaks and masks. They spoke little, focusing only on destruction.
The group passed by.
Just as Snape began to think the danger had passed, another figure emerged from the shadows.
Snape froze.
He knew this man.
Pale skin. Straw-blond hair. A madness flickering in his eyes.
Impossible.
By all rights, this man should have died in Azkaban.
His name was Barty Crouch Jr.
More than a decade ago, after Voldemort's fall, Barty Crouch Jr. had been imprisoned—and shortly afterward, declared dead.
Yet here he was.
And that could only mean one thing.
Strictly speaking, the so-called Death Eaters wreaking havoc tonight weren't Voldemort's true followers at all.
Voldemort's Death Eaters had always been divided into two groups.
One consisted of his fanatical loyalists—people like Barty Crouch Jr.
The other group was the mob currently spreading chaos.
These were extremists who believed Muggle-born witches and wizards were second-class citizens. They delighted in humiliation and cruelty.
Voldemort might have been powerful, but he was never a particularly charismatic leader.
Most of these people hadn't joined him out of belief—they joined because Voldemort offered protection. Power. Permission to be cruel.
When Voldemort fell, they scattered like frightened birds.
Only the truly loyal were imprisoned in Azkaban, patiently waiting for their master's return.
And now, one of those loyalists stood here.
In Snape's eyes, Barty Crouch Jr.'s appearance could only signal one thing—
Voldemort's return.
Unaware of Snape's thoughts, Barty moved slowly forward.
Snape assumed he had been discovered. Beneath the cloak, he quietly drew his wand, ready to strike first.
But Barty hadn't noticed them.
He crouched down, picked up the wand Harry had dropped, and stood again.
Raising the wand toward the sky, he spoke the spell known only to Death Eaters.
"Morsmordre!"
A burst of green light shot upward.
High above, an enormous skull formed—composed of countless glowing green sparks. From its mouth emerged a massive serpent, like a living tongue.
The Dark Mark rose higher and higher, like a constellation burning into the night sky.
Snape felt his own Dark Mark react.
Whenever Voldemort grew stronger, the Mark burned hotter—its color shifting from dark green toward red.
Voldemort used it to summon his followers. When he pressed the Mark, all Death Eaters would feel it and Apparate to his side.
The reverse was also possible—Death Eaters could attempt to summon Voldemort.
But the choice was always his.
Barty Crouch Jr. raised the Dark Mark not only to find his master—but to warn the traitors.
In his eyes, those who had fled after Voldemort's fall were betrayers.
They had freedom, yet never searched for their lord. Instead, they indulged themselves in chaos and pleasure.
As for Barty himself—
Though his mother had swapped places with him in Azkaban, he had been imprisoned at home by his father, Barty Crouch Sr.
Controlled by the Imperius Curse.
Watched constantly by the house-elf Winky.
Unable to search for Voldemort. Unable to serve.
Later, out of pity, Winky convinced Crouch Sr. to let Barty attend the Quidditch World Cup—Barty loved Quidditch.
That was how he came to be here.
And in the chaos, he finally broke free of the Imperius Curse.
The first thing he did was call for his master.
The Dark Mark terrified the rioting Death Eaters.
If Voldemort truly returned, they would be held accountable for their years of cowardice.
So once again, they scattered.
Voldemort did sense the summons.
But at that moment, he was traveling with Peter Pettigrew, and could not respond.
There was one more person involved in all of this—
Bertha Jorkins.
She had accidentally uncovered the truth about Barty Crouch Jr.
Later, while vacationing in Albania, she was captured by Pettigrew and brought before Voldemort.
Voldemort shattered the Memory Charm placed on her by Crouch Sr.—
And learned that his most loyal servant was still alive.
Waiting.
patreon.com/WhiteDevil7554