The Dark Mark seemed to possess a kind of magic, able to stir up the fear hidden deep inside people's hearts.
It was especially obvious among the Ministry of Magic employees who had reached middle age. The impact of the Dark Mark on them was the strongest, as if they had been dragged back to that terrible era of bloodshed, when they lived every day in fear.
"The Dark Mark!"
"Why is there a Dark Mark?"
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back? But he already..."
Those middle-aged Ministry of Magic employees let out wretched screams. Some collapsed straight to the ground, their eyes rolling back as they fainted, while others scrambled away on hands and knees, trying to find somewhere they could no longer see the Dark Mark.
"The Dark... the Dark Mark..." Cornelius Fudge shuddered, turning at once to look at Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore... what on earth is going on?" He was like a student in trouble, trying to find an answer from his professor. "Why... why is there a Dark Mark?"
While Cornelius Fudge was asking Dumbledore for help, Old Barty Crouch had already moved. He drew his wand and pointed it at the Dark Mark in the sky.
He swung his wand sharply. The Dark Mark flickered several times like a candle flame, yet still stubbornly hung in the night sky, spreading a ghostly green light outward.
"This is different from the previous Dark Mark!" A trace of confusion appeared between his brows, and he began searching for the possible reason the Dark Mark had appeared.
Old Barty Crouch noticed Karkaroff in the distance. Karkaroff was also slumped on the ground at that moment, and the Dark Mark had appeared directly above him.
"Looks like the source is Karkaroff..." He turned to Dumbledore and said, "Albus, I'll go over and check!"