There were very few Wizards staying in this camping area.
There were only a few scattered tents around, but that did not mean it was a quiet place.
The Irish Team had won, causing the Leprechauns to fly around the woods, making a ceaseless racket. In front of Sherlock, a laughing Leprechaun glided low, scattering handfuls of gold coins from its pockets.
Sherlock stood before a sturdy poplar tree, his face expressionless, completely out of place with the festive atmosphere around him.
Yet no one found it strange; tonight was a lucky day for the Irish Team fans, and naturally, it was a dark night for the Bulgarian fans.
Sherlock's current demeanour was taken for that of one of those dejected Bulgarian fans.
The celebrations outside lasted until very late. By the time the jubilant Irish Team fans began to settle down and retreat into their tents to rest, there was still no movement from the tent where Barty was staying.
Sherlock could perceive that there had only been two people in that tent the entire time—Barty and Winky.
Barty seemed as if he had been put under some kind of spell; since returning from the stadium, he had been sitting blankly in the tent, as if he did not care about anything.
Winky, on the other hand, sat nervously beside him, muttering quietly to herself, "Winky is a good House-elf," "Winky must listen to Master," "Winky must keep the young master by her side."
Based on these words, Sherlock was once again certain that Barty Crouch Sr. was fully aware that Barty was still alive.
And there was a very high probability that it was also his doing that Barty had been able to escape from Azkaban.
After all, before becoming the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, he had been the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he had considerable authority over the management of Azkaban.
Just as the night grew deeper and Sherlock began to suspect that he had guessed wrong—that Barty had really just come to watch this Quidditch final with no other conspiracy—and was about to take action...
A dazzling stream of green light suddenly exploded across the entire Wizard camping ground!
The camp, which had already quietened down, became rowdy again the moment the green light lit up. In the sky not far away, four figures suddenly rose into the air.
Piercing screams rang out the moment those four figures were lifted into the air!
Sherlock narrowed his eyes and took out the Omnioculars he had bought to watch the match, seeing those four people flying.
It was the Muggle Roberts family who had been guarding the entrance to the camp earlier.
He, his wife, and their two children were all being controlled by magic, flying through the sky. The youngest child had already fainted from fear, spinning constantly like a top, while those fearful, piercing screams were coming from his parents and sister.
A spell capable of controlling four people and lifting them into the sky like this was certainly not something a normal Wizard could cast.
Judging by the intensity of the magic displayed, at least five or more Wizards were participating in the casting, and this number was still constantly increasing.
The commotion quickly began to spread; panicked footsteps sounded as Wizards who had already started to rest were awakened, and fear drove them to flee in all directions.
The camp where Harry and the Weasley family were currently located was exactly at the centre of where the incident occurred.
They could clearly see more than a dozen Wizards dressed in black robes and wearing hideous iron masks, laughing wildly, their wands pointed at the four Muggles controlled in the sky as they constantly moved forward.
As they advanced, other Wizards, also wearing iron masks, were constantly joining them.
Besides torturing the Muggles, some of them casually set fire to the nearby tents—one, two, three—and soon the fires merged into a single blaze.
Mr Weasley was anxiously telling Bill to take the children and flee the area quickly; he had to rendezvous with the others from the Ministry of Magic to stop this farce.
Harry and his two friends were initially with Bill and the others, but after running with the crowd for a short while, the group became separated. It was only then that Harry discovered his wand had been lost at some point.
On Sherlock's side, the moment the commotion began, he keenly noticed that a change had also occurred in Barty's tent.
The House-elf Winky seemed to have been frightened; she jumped up from the ground in terror, while the previously dazed Barty's gaze suddenly became focused.
His eyes were flickering, as if a scorching light had ignited within them.
And why he underwent such a change, under the perception of Control Magic, Sherlock could see clearly.
On Barty's left arm, where a dark green pattern of a python protruding from a skull's mouth was tattooed, a faint light suddenly shone!
Sherlock was naturally no stranger to this tattoo.
The Dark Mark!
Only the core Death Eaters would be granted this mark by Lord Voldemort!
In recent years, this tattoo had appeared on every notorious Dark Wizard in the Wizarding World; for Wizards living peaceful lives, it was a symbol of the arrival of fear.
But this magical mark, which made one's blood run cold just by looking at it, was not merely a proof of identity.
It was, even more so, an important hub for the person represented by the Dark Mark to maintain contact with his followers.
The glowing Dark Mark on Barty's left arm meant that Lord Voldemort was summoning him!
Seeing the Dark Mark light up and connecting it to the sudden commotion in this camp, Sherlock instantly understood the reason for it.
He stopped the action of reaching into his robe sleeve to draw his wand and continued to observe Barty's current movements.
Barty was struggling with Winky at this moment; the terrified House-elf was scurrying around like a headless chicken, wanting to take him and flee.
Barty clearly did not intend to leave with her; he was still draped in that invisibility cloak, struggling to escape from Winky's supervision.
But he had no wand in his hand. Not all Wizards in the world were outliers like Sherlock; without a wand, the magic they could cast directly on their own was simply no match for suppressing a magical creature like a House-elf.
Winky thus pulled and dragged Barty out of the tent.
Sherlock silently cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and followed behind this master and servant.
"There are bad Wizards everywhere!" Winky screamed in a panic, leaning forward and trying desperately to run ahead. "People are high up—high up above! Winky must run away!"
She dragged Barty and ducked into the bushes nearby, during which she happened to brush past Harry and his two friends, who had been separated from the main group.