'Stop it, Rhysenn,' Ron said, his voice sharp and dangerous.
'Or what?' Draco tipped his head back, and Ron had to marvel at the perfection of the imitation, the accuracy of the insouciant posture, the cool disdainful smile. Although he had really liked the fake Hermione a great deal better.
'Or I'll tell you your future,' Ron said.
Draco gave a sharp little intake of breath at that, his pale cheeks flushing, and the illusion was broken. With a toss of hair Rhysenn was herself again, only the gray eyes the same, and murderous. 'Don't you dare,' she said.
'Don't try to seduce me then,' Ron said.
'It might be all the comfort you get,' she said, 'false comfort is better than none.'
'I don't want it,' he said.
She gave him a look. It was an angry look, but there was something else under it, as well. Grudging respect. 'No illusions then,' she said.
'None,' said Ron.
'Very well,' she said, and swept out of the room. She paused in the corridor outside, waiting, and after a moment he followed her.
'Viktor,' Hermione whispered. 'Viktor, please…'
Viktor sounded pained. 'I have not seen him, Hermione. I am sorry.'
There was a rustle, and Draco dropped to his knees beside her. Hermione cut her eyes sideways. She could see his face in silhouette, outlined sharply by the firelight. Because his features were so sharp and his mouth so unusually shaped, he had a very distinctive profile. 'Why is it,' he said, staring at Viktor, 'that every time we meet, you're telling lies about the whereabouts of a friend of mine? Keep it up, Krum, and I'm going to start to think that you have something personally against me.'
'I have nothing against you,' Viktor said, recovering quickly from what had looked like surprise at seeing Draco. 'But I cannot tell you where Harry is.'
'You mean you won't.' Draco's hands were open on his knees, his fingers relaxed, but Hermione could hear the tension in his voice. 'Are you quite sure that's wise?'
Viktor glowered even more heavily. 'Are you threatening me?'
'Maybe,' Draco said.
'With what, exactly?'
'I'm not sure,' Draco admitted. 'I thought it would be more effective if I kept it vague.'
'It is not effective,' said Viktor somberly. 'For the last time, I cannot help
— '
He broke off, looking suddenly alarmed. The sound that had reminded Hermione of crackling telephone static returned, louder than before. His head whipped around as if he were suddenly aware of a presence behind him; his mouth began to form words, and then, with a flailing yelp, he vanished, jerked downwards as if by some invisible, inexorable force.
'Crikey,' said Draco into the silence which followed Viktor's abrupt disappearance. 'Looks like your erstwhile Bulgarian suitor got himself eaten by a shark. The mind boggles.'
'Oh dear,' Hermione said, but before she could get really worried, there was another explosion of movement inside the fireplace, and a head replaced Viktor's. A familiar waterfall of silver-blonde hair, enormous blue eyes, and full red lips stretched into a superior smile shone out from the flames. 'Fleur?' Hermione exclaimed. 'What are you — '
But Fleur was staring right past her, at Draco, her eyes sparkling. 'Draco!'
she shrieked. 'Draco, mon petit! I have missed you so very very much!'
Draco sat back on his heels, his mouth twitching into a grin. Fleur had much the same effect on boys that Draco had on girls, and no one with Draco's vanity could fail to be moved by Fleur's enthusiastic admiration.
'Hello, Fleur,' he said. 'How's that house I bought for you working out?'
'It is lovely,' she enthused. 'Viktor and I enjoy visiting it very much.'
'Viktor? You're living with Viktor?' Draco's eyebrows shot up. 'Why?'
'Do not be insulting,' said Fleur breezily. 'Our love is pure.'
'You love is mercenary,' said Draco. 'You're either using him for his money or his fame, woman. Certainly you can't be in for his looks. It's the whole professional Quidditch thing isn't it? Wait till all the guys find out you can get laid just for owning a stripy jumper and a pair of regulation undershorts and they'll all want to be on a team.'
'You're on a team,' Hermione said darkly, feeling ignored.
'I don't need the help getting laid,' Draco said. 'Or the regulation undershorts. They bunch up and spoil the line of your trousers.' He examined his nails. 'I usually wear nothing under my Quidditch cords.'
Hermione was stricken speechless by this piece of information. Fleur just laughed. 'Viktor and I have an understanding,' she said. 'Although we often disagree. Now, for instance. He felt we should not tell you that Harry was here.'
Draco's head jerked up and he went rigid all over. 'Harry's there right now?'
'No,' Fleur said, unexpected gentleness in her tone. 'He left this afternoon. He was very ill when he arrived — '
'Is he all right?' Hermione interrupted anxiously.
'He is fine,' Fleur said. 'Quite recovered.'
Draco had shut his eyes. Hermione spoke for him, knowing what he wanted to ask: 'Do you know where he went?'
'Yes,' Fleur said. 'We sent him to Viktor's apartment — ' She broke off with an exclamation, and shot a reproachful look behind her. 'Well, we did,' she said. 'He was to remain there until Viktor could rejoin him — Viktor, stop it. They have a right to know! They are his friends and they love him very much!'
'We do,' agreed Hermione, fervently.
'Speak for yourself,' Draco muttered.
Hermione shot him a look. 'We just want Harry to be all right,' she said, turning back to Fleur. 'There are things he doesn't know, things that could put him in danger — '
'Tell us where he is,' Draco said. When he spoke again, it was with a certain amount of effort. 'Please.'
'He's in Prague,' said Fleur. 'More than that I cannot tell you. I would have to give you a Portkey.'
'Please,' said Hermione, saving Draco from needing to repeat the word.
'We haven't much time.'
Fleur took a deep breath, and then her hands appeared from the flames, stretching themselves out towards Hermione and Draco. 'I could bring you through,' she said. 'But the restrictions — the alerts might be triggered
— '
'We're in the Ministry,' Hermione said quickly. 'There are no restrictions.' She looked at Draco. 'Can we?'
He nodded. He looked a little dazed, as if events were transpiring too quickly for him to process. 'Yes.'
Hermione held her hand out, and Fleur's cool slender fingers closed around it. She could feel the heat of the fire but it seemed distant and not frightening. It lapped against her skin like hot water, scalding without burning. She shut her eyes as Fleur pulled her forward, and felt herself weightless for a moment, sliding down. Then her feet found purchase and she stumbled. Fleur righted her, and she looked up, opening her eyes.
She stood in the center of a small, furnished room, its walls lined with books. She was facing an empty fireplace, the bricks that formed the back of it gone transparent. She could see through them — as if she looked through a window, they gave a clear view into Lucius' office, without any wavering distortion. She could see Draco kneeling there, looking at them through the fire. The flames seemed to lick up around him, darkening the fine pale
