Harry wandered in the general area outside the Weasley and Malfoy tents. There were a lot of Hogwarts students to visit with. He wandered a bit further when he saw Victor had come over with some of his Durmstrang friends. Harry chatted with Victor, lamenting Bulgaria's loss and catching up on what each of them were doing. There was a crowd of schoolgirls there, giggling over both Victor and Harry, wanting autographs from Victor and batting their eyes at a self-conscious Harry.

There seemed to be a never-ending stream of people going by, talking and waving … some stopped to say a few words. It was great to be able to interact with others in the wizarding world with no one acting awestruck or behaving oddly … well except for the teenage girls. There were so many celebrities in the crowd that no one thought anything of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' being there.

It was getting later, and Harry looked around with a frown. He had drifted quite far from the Malfoy tent – he could barely see the tent-pole with the flag with the Malfoy coat of arms on it. Harry was about to excuse himself to the beady-eyed Brazilian wizard that was asking about his patronus when he heard shouting and screaming. Talking stopped and people turned toward the noise.

It looked like a wave of people rolling down the wide path between the tents. People were scattering and running in all directions. Harry could see spells being thrown. Here and there tents erupted into flames. The wizards and witches around him began looking concerned. Some apparated away immediately. Others – like Ludo Bagman - ran away from the screaming.

The Durmstrang students – all of them older, about to be seventh years like Victor – formed a loose circle, uncertain of what was happening. Then the cause of the hysteria appeared in the distance – a group of cloaked and hooded figures, torches hovering on their own above the hooded heads and keeping pace with the group.

Harry could hear a distant chanting, difficult to make out above the screaming. The wave of people fleeing cut off Harry from the Malfoy tent. Victor grabbed Harry's arm and shouted, "Those are Death Eaters - Come with us!"

Harry stayed at Victor's side, wading through the crowds toward the Quidditch player's tents nearer the stadium. A second group of cloaks and hoods appeared in front of them, blocking their path. They laughed when they saw the small group of students.

"Ah … the Bulgarian seeker … a few spells might improve your flying – or perhaps not …" One chortled. Spells were sent their way and the group of students soon got split up as they dodged the spells and tried to return fire. One student was hit and fell, lying far too still on the trampled grass.

Victor dodged toward the wooded area wanting to keep Harry protected, cursing and trying to keep a shield up to deflect spells from he and Harry.

"Wait – I can cover an escape." Harry shouted, surprising Victor. He gathered up his strongest feeling of happiness – the one he always felt when he thought about his family - and cast. "Expecto Patronum." He shouted and smiled briefly during the chaos as Yvane burst forth, a huge silver mass of mist quickly forming into a dragon.

The dragon seemed to smile at the frozen forms of the astonished Death Eaters. He then flew at them, blocking their sight of the students as they fled, carrying their fallen comrade. Harry ran beside them as they dodged through the trees, making a round-about trip to a red and black tent – not the Quidditch tent this time … it was the Durmstrang School's tent.

The students fled into the well-lit tent, panting with relief. They set down the injured student onto a couch, where he groaned in pain, still mostly unconscious. A wizard came out of a side room with potions and began waving his wand over the body. Harry had been at a healer's mercy often enough to recognize diagnostic charms.

The rest of the students, along with Harry, sat in the chairs scattered around the room. Now that the danger was past they started speaking angrily about the Death Eater's sheer effrontery – showing up at the World Cup and creating chaos. Another figure raced in, face pale with horror.

"Death Eaters! Why are they here? Are they mad?" The wizard shouted, throwing off his cloak. He spun around as if counting the students … and then he noticed Harry. He started walking toward the boy, eyes narrowing. At that moment a silvery figure chased in through the tent door, shrinking from its huge form into about the size of a pony, but still definitely a dragon. It stopped between Harry and the wizard, glancing at the man with assessing eyes, a wisp of silvery smoke escaping its grinning jaws.

Harry smiled at the patronus, who now had everyone's eyes on him. He was quite sure that the original Yvane must have been a rather conceited creature – the patronus did so love to be admired.

"I'm safe now, Yvane – thank you for saving me once again." Harry gave the wizard a cool stare, letting him know he was unafraid of him as the dragon slowly dissipated. The wizard suddenly grinned and laughed, giving Harry a good view of teeth that had never seen a whitening charm.

"Well, well … Harry Potter." Then the wizard abruptly dropped back into a scowl. "Well, met – well met indeed … I am Igor Karkaroff – Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute." The two shook hands briefly and the wizard went over to sit beside the injured student, and talk to the Healer.

A house elf brought out food and they watched though the door as fires blazed here and there and the shouts continued. "A long night ahead, I suspect, Harry." Victor said to Harry, dropping a hand on his shoulder. Harry nodded and now found time to worry about what his Dad would have to say.

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Lucius, Severus and Tom raced out behind Percy to find the pathway awash in running wizards and witches. Most of them were calling to family – and when they would find whoever they were looking for, most apparated away with them. Tents were going up in flames and there was a lot of screaming.

They saw Arthur pushing Ginny toward the twins, shouting that she was their responsibility. They nodded grimly and ran toward the woods. Percy quickly took Hermione and Mafalda and followed them. Ron and Dudley were beside Arthur, and they ran to Lucius when they sighted him.

"Draco went to find Harry – he wandered over to talk to Victor Krum." Dudley said frantically. "We were talking to the twins about some plans for … well, we didn't realize he'd gone so far until the screaming started."

"We lost him in the crowds." Ron added unhappily.

Lucius looked at Arthur with a plea in his eyes. Arthur nodded in understanding. "I'll guard Dudley as my own – I'll see him to safety … find Draco and Harry." Arthur nodded to them and drew Ron and Dudley toward the path the others had taken. He and Percy could apparate them one at a time from there.

Severus looked around at the crowds – they were thinning as people apparated or portkeyed away – but not very quickly. More and more tents went up like torches – the spells reacting with the magic in the tents and the fires.

"We need to split up – each of us will take a portkey, if any of us find one of them – we get them to safety." Severus grabbed a portkey from Lucius and turned toward the far distant Quidditch tents and the Durmstrang tents that were even farther and started toward them. Lucius went in another direction. Tom watched them leave and headed toward the loudest screams and chanting with a grim look in his eyes.

Lucius pushed through the crowd and briefly wondered if he should go get Seti. Finally he simply cast his patronus and told it to lead him to Draco. It was difficult to follow the small form of the silvery fox, but it did go straight toward the Quidditch tent, he was halfway there when he found a small circle of cloaked figures, surrounding a slight form. He heart dropped as he recognized Draco.

A blasting curse followed by several stunners in rapid succession split the group up. They scattered to find cover and Draco dove into a nearby tent. Lucius got behind the dubious protection of a tree and gauged the distance between his tree and Draco's tent. His initial attack had downed a few of the Death Eaters. The nearby crowd had scattered, running with their families for less dangerous areas.

"Malfoy – you traitor! Here to save your whelp?" A voice cackled out some vicious laughter. "Well, prepare to watch him burn, instead … Incendio!" The voice shouted, setting fire to the front of the tent Draco had gone into.

Lucius felt himself panic. The tents were made to be impervious to cutting hexes and other spells to break in – or out of them. With the tent entrance in flames, Draco would be trapped. Lucius ran forward throwing a strong shield up as he ran and chanted a fire repelling spell as he leaped through the door. The heat still scorched him as he entered. He knew he had only moments.

Draco was directly in front of the doorway, wand out and a horrified look on his face. Lucius had the portkey in his left hand and he grabbed his son up shouting the activation word just as the tent erupted into an inferno.

They dropped into the Spinners End foyer in a smoldering heap. Petunia raced downstairs at the noise. Draco was up and smacking at areas of Lucius that were still aflame. Lucius was holding a few locks of his hair and was blowing on the blazing ends to extinguish them.

Dobby popped in and squeaked in horror and popped out to get cleaning supplies and burn ointment. Petunia came closer, speechless at the sight of them. They had just gone to the World Cup, though the last one they'd attended had been pretty eventful as well.

"I suppose there is a long story attached to this …?" Petunia started.

Lucius looked at her and sighed, nodding. "I'll let Draco tell you his part – I need to go back and make sure they find Harry." He apparated back to in front of his tent – a good thing, as it was now in flames as well. He turned and headed for the Durmstrang tent, hoping Victor was there and could say where Harry had gone.

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Severus strode quickly through the crowds heading toward the Quidditch tents. If Harry had been with Victor Krum he was fairly sure that the Bulgarian youth would do his best to get him to safety. He was having some difficulty, as he was going 'upstream', with all the rest of the people running the other way.

Eventually the crowds thinned and he was surrounded by deserted tents that were in flames. The heat was intense and it felt a bit surreal, like walking through a scene of hell. The feeling intensified as he approached a group of Death Eaters – their white cloaks now well – spattered with mud and grime. Their hoods were askew and they were milling around in agitation … easily explained by the silvery form of Harry's patronus winging away in triumph.

Severus relaxed a little, if the patronus Yvane was leaving then Harry must have gotten away safely. He considered attacking the group – there were only seven – but he needed to find Harry. He paused long enough to cast a broadly spread incendio that set all their robes on fire. It was too thinly spread to cause serious damage – but it did send several of them apparating away.

Severus ran on, following the distant silvery form of Yvane. It was heading toward the Durmstrang tent. Severus grimaced. He'd hoped to put off this particular meeting. He passed fewer and fewer people and found himself nearing the tent. Like the others it was small compared to what he knew the size inside would be. He lifted his wand, prepared for anything as he entered the tent.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to find Harry surrounded by Durmstrang students, laughing about the Death Eaters scattering like rabbits before the patronus dragon. Harry caught sight of him and leaped up in relief.

"Dad!" Harry said in relief, grabbing him in a hug. Severus slung an arm around Harry pulling him into his side. He had the portkey in his left hand lying on Harry's shoulder. "Victor and his friends brought me here when the panic started – those people were between us and you."

Victor laughed and one of the other students said, "Actually, I think Harry saved us – he conjured a dragon patronus to guard our escape."

Severus smiled a little tensely, lowering his wand to his side carefully. The students had not taken his raised wand badly – they were from Durmstrang and understood that Severus had needed to assess the situation before dropping his guard.

"An impressive patronus … a dragon." The voice came from the side – but Severus had already had his eyes on Igor. He didn't bother to raise his wand. He'd never feared Igor as an opponent. He was wary of betrayal by him, or knives in the back – but in a straight-on fight he could defeat Igor while still half asleep and in his nightshirt. He was almost certain that Gilderoy Lockhart would have been able to beat him in a duel.

"Igor." Severus intoned the name in greeting. He didn't want to insult the students by sneering at their Headmaster. But he did turn to Victor and nodded to him in thanks. Victor brightened and nodded in return. Nothing needed to be said – Severus acknowledged the debt. It was not really a life-debt, but it was a favor owed.

Severus turned toward the door, bidding the students goodbye. Igor sidled up as they reached the doorway and smirked at Severus a bit. "An admirable protection you've acquired, Severus."

Severus glared at him, glad that the Durmstrang Headmaster was speaking in low tones. Why did everyone seem out to undermine Harry's confidence that he was wanted for himself – not as a weapon, instrument of revenge, or a shield. Just as Severus was thinking of a snide retort a fresh wave of screams was heard, distracting all of them. A blazing green apparition of a skull and snake appeared in the sky, making even Severus blanch in horror … the Dark Mark.

After years of anticipation and preparing – it was still happening too fast. Severus gathered his shattered nerves and sent his patronus with a message to Lucius, saying he had found Harry was taking him to Dragonsrest.

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Tom moved toward the loudest mix of chanting and screaming. There were bright lights and the sizzle of spells. Tom felt the hot flow of adrenalin and fury running into his veins, making him grip his wand tighter. Yvane was shifting in eagerness in the back of his mind, also eager for action. He got closer to the group of Death Eaters chanting and hexing a group of Ministry workers, mixed along with two Auror apprentices who were trying to fight them.

The reason for the stand-off was apparent. The Death Eaters had the muggle family who owned the property levitated high into the air. It was difficult to tell which ones were holding the muggles up, and if they hexed the Death Eaters they needed to immediately have someone to catch the muggles, and that was hard to do while taking hexes from the other Death Eaters.

Dora was there to Tom's relief and he ran to her. "I can hover all three of them to the ground – you get your lot to fire on the Death Eaters as hard as they can."

"Are you sure …?" Dora started, and then seeing the determination in Tom's face merely pointed to a partially burned tent for him to cast spells from behind.

She ran to the small group of Aurors and ministry workers and tells them a group of volunteers would hover the muggles to safety while they attacked the Death Eaters. She then gave the order and they all attacked as one, sending curse after curse at the astonished group – they had thought that they wouldn't dare attack with the muggles at risk. The wizards holding the muggles abruptly dropped the screaming, flailing figures … but instead of crashing to the ground they floated gently over to a group of cowering sports organizers and were lowered into their midst.

The group doesn't know anything worse than a tripping hex … but were glad to help by apparating the muggles to safety at the ministry and that left Tom free to turn his attention to the Death Eaters. He stepped out from behind the tent and strode toward the group, a malevolent smile on his face – really more of a show of teeth than anything else. Yvane burned with righteous fury in the back of his mind. Tom briefly wondered where the peace – mongering pacifist dragon he'd first met had gone to.

Tom threw blasting curses hard enough to throw two wizards at a time, making them hit trees and tent poles with sickening thuds. The Death Eaters turned toward him in anger and Tom dodged their curses rather that throw shields up and continued with the barrage of curses. Some of them started leaving – their fun was clearly over. Others didn't like to go when it would seem so much like a retreat.

Dora ran to Tom's side joining in the attack. Adrian Kirke – one of Tom's old dorm mates while in Gryffindor - bounced to Tom's other side to assist by throwing up shields to block the Death Eater's curses. Adrian was in an Auror trainee's uniform as well, and was giving Tom a gleeful grin.

Their efforts were redoubled when Lucius ran up, though the Death Eaters that were left all seemed to know what they were doing and were shielding a little better.

All the combatants froze though when an unearthly green light lit the sky. They all turned as one – Death Eaters, Aurors and the trainees, ministry workers and the few Quidditch fans that were left in the area. Everyone's hearts froze, all of them horrified at the sight of the Dark Mark. The symbol that very well might herald the return of Voldemort. No one present there was celebrating the sight.

The Death Eaters that were still conscious apparated away with fear in their hearts. In spite of their prior happiness that there were definite signs of a Dark uprising and their glee at the attempts by Voldemort to resurrect himself over the past three years … now that they saw the Dark Mark – they were reminded that the Dark Lord would not be pleased with them. They had renounced him at the trials, insisting that they had been forced into service – placed under the Imperious Curse. Worse – they'd made no attempts to find their Lord.

Heads would roll when they were called … and they knew it.

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Voldemort sat in the overstuffed chair in front of the fire, in spite of it being summer the room felt chill to him. His body was slight – barely as tall as Wormtail, and then only because Pettigrew was constantly hunching his shoulders.

The partial resurrection at least meant that he had some magic at his disposal – at least as much as Barty Crouch Jr. had, so he felt safe barking orders at the pair of wizards with impunity. Not that Barty Jr. would dream of defying his Lord – the wizard was far too enamored with the idea of being Voldemort's right hand to argue about anything.

Wormtail, though - in spite of having hoped to reunite with the Dark Lord for self-protection – now that he was there, he didn't really like to go out to gather information or do anything else that would expose him to danger and possible capture. He saw the wanted posters of himself plastered everywhere in the wizarding world. Even the muggle world had posters of him – advertising him as a killer.

Giving the Dark Lord back his wand had mollified him somewhat. Peter had managed to give Voldemort one piece of information that had made him smile … Peter had overheard Arthur and Percy speaking about the Tri-Wizard tournament that was coming up while on spring break. Voldemort had plans that could be put into action with this – if he could just get someone inside Hogwarts.

After a great deal of scurrying and sweating while spying on Aurors and trainees at some of their favorite pubs, Peter heard that old Mad-eye Moody had agreed to take on the DADA position at Hogwarts. The Ministry was relieved to have him out of their hair for a time and Hogwarts was relieved to have a knowledgeable teacher.

This had spurred Voldemort into action and they had tracked down Moody's home, inspecting the wards and tracked his usual routine. The man took paranoid to new extremes. Barty jr. followed Moody to the World Cup, watching the man's quirks and mannerisms – and he had many of them. He did need to know how to imitate him. The antics of the Death Eaters after the game had irritated him. How dare they behave like they had been some of the Dark Lord's faithful?

He'd quickly put an end to their bravado with a well-placed Morsmordre. He'd listened with glee as Moody gave Lucius and Igor a hard time, saying 'they had so many Death Eaters running around the place he didn't know who to start with'.

The next day they'd put their plan into action. Barty transfigured his trunk that had several compartments – some of them as big as rooms – into a dumpster. Then they had impatiently waited for Moody to spring the trap by trying to empty his garbage – the things that were difficult or impossible to vanish. The dumpster 'ate' Moody, who kicked and yelled, and Barty turned the dumpster back into a trunk. They had their polyjuice ingredient, now.

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Harry sweated and tossed and turned in bed, awakening with a headache. He'd been having dreams – mostly flashes of scenes. One with a house-elf dying – and one with Peter Pettigrew scurrying around, moaning about not wanting to leave the house. He'd told his dad about them and Severus had frowned. The fragments of dreams made little sense, so he told Harry to clear his mind before bed. That had stopped them for a time.

He'd tried to put away his thoughts after the World Cup, but his mind had been in a whirl. His dream that night had been of Voldemort and Peter along with another wizard. They were talking about a tournament coming to Hogwarts. The short, mean looking wizard had demanded that they get 'the boy', that only 'his blood will do'. The dream had ended when an elderly muggle had stumbled in on the three and he'd been killed.

His scar was blazing with pain when he woke and he dragged down to breakfast unhappily. Harry waited until Rosmerta left with Beth to take her to school and go on to the 3 Broomsticks, then he told Severus and Tom about the dream.

"… My scar really hurt and it was all so much clearer than the dreams before – but it must be a dream, they kept on about a tournament …" Severus and Tom glanced at each other in trepidation. "… and the one they were saying 'My Lord' to … well he's not what I expected the Dark Lord to look like." Harry laughed shortly, and at their questioning look he added. "… his ears were a little pointy and his skin was just a little greenish – not much, but a little. I don't know if you ever saw episodes of 'Star Trek' or their movies, but if Spock had been under five foot tall – that's what he'd have looked like, I guess."

Severus smirked and laughed – he recalled the TV show from his childhood … and the character. Tom looked mystified, so Harry explained while Severus' mind whirled … it could not have been a dream. The tournament had been spoken of and the staff had been careful to not let the students know of it.

The paper was delivered and had the expected "Terror at the World Cup" stories. There were a bunch of pictures of the 'Death Eaters' who had been captured. A few were dead from being tossed so hard with a blasting curse. Harry glanced at Tom, who didn't seem disturbed by the previous night's activities. Well, Yvane would lecture him if he was in the wrong, he was sure.

Harry sighed and finished up his breakfast. Another exciting year to come, he was sure. Severus and Harry started packing for the school year with Tom watching pensively. He would be there for a few weeks during the first task – the Welsh Reserve was providing at least one of the dragons. Tom as well as Percy would be assisting with their handling. Still he hated when there were such long periods between seeing his family. He was glad that their skills with the danburite crystals had become strong enough that they could communicate in actual sentences instead of just thoughts or one word.

The next morning Severus left for Hogwarts by floo and Tom took Harry to the station with Rosmerta and Beth. Harry bounced onto the train with a grin. So far all was well.

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