Although Crouch was worried Winky might leak secrets, Charlie clearly had no intention of letting her go.
Charlie's world-shattering display was still echoing in his mind; he truly did not dare offend Charlie.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart, and stared coldly at Winky.
The meaning was clear: dare to speak carelessly, and you're dead.
Winky trembled all over, quickly lowered her head, and dared not look at him again.
"Let's go. After a busy night, it's time to go back and rest."
Charlie turned and walked away, and Winky quickly followed.
Crouch stood rooted to the spot, watching their retreating figures, his face a mixture of green and white.
The campsite was a mess.
Many tents were burned down to charred frames, and the ground was littered with various crushed items.
Charlie led Winky toward the Malfoy Family's tent when Harry suddenly ran up from behind, followed by Ron and Hermione.
"Charlie, wait!"
Charlie stopped and looked back at him.
"What is it?"
"I have something I want to tell you."
"Go ahead."
Harry took a deep breath.
"Three days ago, the scar on my forehead started hurting again."
When Charlie heard this, he immediately became alert.
Harry's scar only hurt before when Lord Voldemort was nearby.
Three days ago? Did Lord Voldemort approach Harry then?
Ron and Hermione gasped.
"Why didn't you tell us at the time!"
Hermione gasped sharply and immediately entered the state she was best at.
"You must get it checked! I remember Chapter Twelve of *Basic Theory of Defence Against the Dark Arts* specifically discusses magical scars, and *Advanced Magical Damage Research*, both the fourth and fifth editions, have relevant case studies..."
"Wait, Hermione—" Harry tried to interrupt.
Hermione didn't stop at all, her voice getting faster and faster.
"You should go see Professor Dumbledore; he has the most experience in this area. If Dumbledore isn't available, you should at least find Madam Pomfrey. She is the Hogwarts school nurse and has dealt with all sorts of difficult cases."
"Hermione!" Harry raised his voice slightly.
Hermione continued.
"Oh, right, there's also *Ancient Magical Scar Studies*. The Hogwarts Library should have it, but it might be in the Restricted Section... No, it definitely is in the Restricted Section. I need to figure out how to get a signed note..."
"I said, Hermione!" Harry finally couldn't take it anymore and threw up his hands in surrender.
"Stop! I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry too much!"
"But Harry, this isn't a small matter. Your scar hurting is never a good sign..."
"I know," Harry sighed.
"That's why I'm telling you now, isn't it?"
"I dreamed Lord Voldemort was killing someone, and he was planning to kill Charlie and me."
Ron shivered, his teeth chattering.
"Don't... don't say that name, okay?"
Harry ignored him and continued.
"The dark mark appeared again tonight. Could there be a connection between the two?"
Charlie thought for a moment and asked, "Have you dreamed of Lord Voldemort before?"
Harry paused, then nodded.
"I have, but the scar didn't hurt then."
Charlie's expression became a little strange.
"Why does your 14-year-old self keep dreaming of Lord Voldemort? Doesn't the Teenage Scarhead Boy dream of Senior Lord Voldemort?"
"I don't want to dream about him either!" Harry realized this wasn't a compliment and was starting to get agitated.
Charlie teased Harry, then his tone became serious.
"For Wizards, these types of special dreams are often not without reason. Especially recurring dreams; maybe there truly is some special connection."
Harry pursed his lips.
"Are you saying there's truly some connection between Lord Voldemort and me?"
"Hard to say. Wait until school starts and ask Dumbledore."
...The night passed, the sky was hazy, and the campsite was filled with noisy voices.
The Ministry of Magic sealed off the camp last night and only lifted the ban this morning. Wizards were leaving with their families, many still complaining about the previous night's events.
Several reporters from The Daily Prophet waited at the camp exit, interviewing anyone they could catch.
The interviewed Wizards spoke all at once, saying all sorts of things.
Some swore they had seen the true faces of the Death Eaters, while others claimed the dark mark was a Ministry of Magic conspiracy.
But these noises couldn't penetrate the Malfoy Family's luxurious tent.
The tent was utterly silent; the soundproofing was ridiculously effective.
It wasn't until full daylight that Charlie opened his eyes on the three-meter-wide bed, soft light refracting from the crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
As soon as he sat up, Winky appeared by the bed.
"Good morning, Master."
Winky held a silver tray bearing a steaming breakfast.
Charlie cast a Cleaning Charm on himself and took the tray. There were fried eggs, bacon, toast, and a glass of pumpkin juice.
"Thank you, Winky."
Winky blinked, her ears perked up.
"Winky is very happy to serve Master!"
Charlie finished breakfast, dressed neatly, and walked out of the room.
The Malfoy Family of three was already waiting in the main hall.
As soon as Lucius saw Charlie, he immediately came forward.
"Mr. Charlie, did you sleep well?"
"Very well."
Lucius cleared his throat, his tone extremely polite.
"Draco has been talking about wanting to spend more time with you. I wonder if Mr. Charlie would be willing to honor us by staying at Malfoy Manor for a few days."
Having witnessed Charlie's power last night, Lucius was even more determined to cling tightly to this powerful connection.
Charlie thought for a moment and nodded.
If he went back two days later, Grandma White shouldn't be too angry. Probably.
The smile on Lucius's face deepened.
"That is truly my honor."
The group walked out of the campsite.
Lucius didn't worry about the tent; servants would come to collect it later.
Passing by the hut of Roberts, the camp administrator, Charlie saw the Roberts family standing at the doorway, looking dazed.
The Ministry of Magic had modified their memories of last night, erasing everything concerning the Death Eaters and the dark mark.
This family's minds were probably in complete chaos now.
The group used a Portkey to return to Malfoy Manor.
As soon as their feet touched the ground, a familiar figure appeared before them.
"Welcome home, Master."
Dobby, wearing his ragged pillowcase, said timidly.
Just as he was about to continue speaking, he suddenly saw Winky behind Charlie and shouted excitedly.
"Winky?"
"Is that really Winky?"
Winky also saw Dobby, and her ears perked up.
Lucius's face instantly darkened.
"Filthy creature." His voice was icy cold.
"Who permitted you to speak?"
Dobby's body stiffened, and he immediately lowered his head, his voice trembling.
"I am sorry, Master. Dobby should not have... Dobby should not have spoken carelessly."
Lucius snorted coldly and raised his walking stick.
"It seems you have forgotten the rules again."
Winky suddenly rushed in front of Charlie and dropped to her knees with a thud.
"Please, Master, do not punish Dobby!" Her voice was urgent.
"It is all Winky's fault. Dobby only spoke because he saw Winky. If Master must punish someone, punish Winky!"
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