stalked into the room. 'Let me do it. I'm a girl, she's a girl, it's for her own good. Now back off, Malfoy,' she snapped, and Draco, to his own surprise, did so, giving Ginny space to unlock Hermione's trunk and rifle through it. She did so, and, finding nothing, turned her attention to the desk, the drawers of which turned out to be mostly empty. Under the desk, however, she found a crumpled piece of paper, which she unfolded, read, and handed wordlessly to Harry.
He looked at it, and bit his lip. It was the letter that Hermione had started writing the day before and never finished, unable to find the right appellation for Harry. All it said was: dearest Harry…darling Harry…Harry, my love.
He looked up, and met Ginny's eyes across the room. 'You don't really think there's the slightest chance she went off with Viktor of her own free will, do you?' said Ginny, sounding tired. 'Harry? Do you?'
He looked down at the paper again, then folded it up and put it in his pocket. 'Let's go talk to Viktor Krum,' he said.
'Hooray!' said Draco. 'Let's go kick Viktor Krum's ass.'
'We are not going to kick his ass,' said Ron. 'We are going to pump him for information.'
'Right,' agreed Draco cheerfully. 'And if that doesn't work, then ass-kicking makes a solid backup plan.'
'Speaking of plans,' said Harry, and turned to Draco, 'What was your brilliant plan for getting us into the London Quidditch Club?'
'Er, hello,' said Harry to the security wizard at the front desk of the Quidditch Club, which turned out to be a large and extremely beautiful hotel-like building off of Diagon Alley. It was set back from the road, but they had recognized it immediately as they flew over it by the flag that fluttered from its roof: two crossed broomsticks on a red background, surrounded by a circle of golden stars. 'I'm Harry Potter, and I want to see Viktor Krum.'
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
