Кассандра Клэр: Draco Sinister

The security wizard snorted. "Get along with you," he said, not looking up. Harry turned around and looked at Ron and Draco, who were standing behind him, looking encouraging. (Ginny had remained at the Burrow on the off chance that Hermione might try to contact them there.)

Harry turned back to the wizard. "I'm Harry Potter," he said, again.

"And I want to see Viktor Krum. He's expecting me."

"You're not — " said the guard, looked up, and broke off, staring from Harry's glasses to his lightning scar. "Cor," he said. "You are Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"For sixteen years now," said Harry evenly.

"Is it true you might be playing Quidditch for England next year?"

said the wizard, looking open-mouthed at Harry.

Harry winked at him. "It's possible," he said. "Viktor was going to introduce me to some of the English players, you know. Try to exert a little influence."

The wizard looked ecstatic. "Harry Potter, playing Quidditch for England!" he exclaimed.

"Well, don't tell anyone," said Harry, leaning an elbow on the desk.

"It's meant to be a secret."

"Oh, right, right," said the security wizard hastily. "And I'll ring up to Mr. Krum for you right away," he added eagerly. "He left word he wasn't to be disturbed, but seeing as it's you, Harry — can I call you Harry?"

"Of course you can," said Harry, smiling benignly. Usually he loathed everything having to do with his fame in the wizarding world, but at the moment he found himself enjoying it a bit.

The wizard turned to the wall behind him, on which was a panel displaying a row of numbered buttons. He tapped one with his wand, and said, "Mr. Krum? Are you there?"

A very tiny image of Viktor Krum's face appeared on the smooth surface of the button. He looked cross. "Vot do you vant?"

"Harry Potter and — " He looked enquiringly at Draco and Ron.

"They're friends of mine," said Harry.

"— And his friends, are here to see you."

There was a short silence. Then Krum said, "Very well. I vill see him," and vanished.

Harry expelled his held breath as the wizard turned to him and smiled. "The Bulgarian team is upstairs on the second floor," he said. "Krum's is the first door on your right. And — can I have your autograph?"

"See," said Draco, as they started up the staircase. "The best plans are the simplest ones, just like the best lies are founded on a grain of truth."

"Is that a Malfoy family saying?" said Ron, acidly. "I'd like to hear the rest of them."

"My favorite was always 'You can get more with a kind word and a really big stick than you can with just a kind word,'" said Draco cheerfully. "My father used to say that. Oh look, here we are."

Harry knocked on the door, which was opened a moment later by Viktor Krum, wearing his red Bulgarian Quidditch robes and looking irritable. "Harry," he said, glanced with recognition at Ron, and blankly at Draco. "It's good to see you, but it is rather late, is it not?"

"I need to ask you something, Viktor," said Harry. "It's — it's about Hermione."

Looking startled, Viktor stepped back and allowed all three of them to walk into his room, which, given the luxurious nature of the rest of the Club, was actually quite spartan. There was a simple bed as well as a table and some chairs, and Quidditch equipment everywhere.

Viktor did not suggest that they sit down, nor did he look particularly welcoming in any way. Instead he turned, crossed his arms over his chest, and growled, "Vell? Vot is this about?"

Looking at Krum standing in front of Harry and Draco, Ron began to see the foolhardiness inherent in their plan. For all Draco's talk of kicking Viktor Krum's ass, it was evident that this was an unlikely proposition. Both Harry and Draco were built along the same lines -

wiry and slender. Viktor Krum, on the other hand, was both extremely tall and extremely wide — not fat, but burly. He could have bench-pressed Harry and had energy left over to toss Draco the length of an Olympic swimming pool.

Wordlessly, Harry reached into his pocket, extracted Hermione's letter, and handed it to Viktor, who took it and read it. When he glanced up, there was obvious astonishment on his face. "This letter," he said, "it is really from Herm-my-own-ninny?"

Harry nodded. "I'd know her writing anywhere."

"It is a joke, then," said Viktor, handing the letter back to Harry. "I haff not seen Her-my-own-ninny in two years. And I certainly haff not-I mean, I haff never-" He shrugged. "Well, as you can see, I am not in Bulgaria. I do not know the meaning of this letter."

"Did you write to her and ask her to meet you at the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Draco.

Krum shook his head. "I did not."

"I saw Hermione," said Ron. "Last night. She said she was leaving with you, for Bulgaria. She got onto a broomstick with you-well, it was dark, but it looked a lot like you."

Viktor was looking distinctly uneasy now. "I do not know where she is," he said. "I tell you, I haff not seen Her-my-own-ninny — I haff no memory of seeing her — "

"Then if you don't mind my asking," said Harry, "where were you last night?"

Viktor opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked from Harry to Draco, to Ron, all of whom were staring at him. Then he said, "I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" echoed Ron.

"No," said Krum, looking very unhappy now. "Yesterday, I have Quidditch practice in the morning. Then, I come back here. I think perhaps I go to sleep, because when I wake up this morning, I do not remember anything I did yesterday. I think perhaps I had the flu, or was overtired."

"So you're saying you just don't remember anything from yesterday or last night?" said Harry in disbelief.

"That is correct," said Krum.

"And on the day the words 'flimsy excuse' were reinvented," said Draco, "we all stood around in awe and watched."

"I tell you, it is the truth!" shouted Krum, looking agitated. "I haff no memory of yesterday! And when I wake up this morning I am very alarmed because — " He broke off.

"Because what?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes.

Krum's expression of unhappiness deepened. It was evident he was fighting some sort of strong internal battle. Finally he sighed, and said, half to himself, "I suppose I must…I suppose I had better…"

"What?" prompted Harry, now nearly desperate with anxiety.

"When I wake up this morning, I see this," said Krum, and pulled up his sleeves. He held out his arms for their inspection.

Deep scratches ran up Krum's forearms and his left wrist was braceleted by five dark red, half-moon-shaped indentations. Harry knew immediately what they were. The marks of nails that had been driven into Krum's wrist — driven by someone who was trying pull his hands away? He had a sudden image of Hermione, struggling as Krum clamped their hand over her mouth, and felt suddenly, violently ill.

But it was Draco who reacted first. He had his wand out and was pointing it at Krum before either Harry or Ron had moved.

"I am telling you," said Krum, looking desperately unhappy and still holding his mangled wrists out in front of him. "I do not remember anything!"

"We'll just see about that," said Draco, shoving the tip of his wand into Krum's sternum. "Veritas!"

Waking up was like rising slowly upward through dark, murky water. Hermione lay still for several moments, drifting in the inchoate gray space between sleeping and waking. Vague images passed before her closed eyelids — a plume of black smoke, a clearing between dark, wet trees, a train. Faces she didn't recognize.

Then Harry's face, looking tired and worried. But why?

Hermione opened her eyes. It took a moment for them to focus on her surroundings. Then she sat up, and stared around her in astonishment.