Ron said nothing, only bit down into his lip.
'You could see the end of the world, my boy,' said Voldemort in a voice that was at once so soft and so carrying that Ron felt sure that everyone had heard his words, and that at the same time Voldemort was speaking only to him. 'But can you see yourself ever having what you want? It is not so impossible as you might think.'
Ron cleared his throat. His chest still felt tight. 'Just don't hurt her,' he said.
'Indeed,' Voldemort said. He turned to Gabriel. 'You heard the boy,' he said. 'Bring her to me unharmed. Now, all of you — ' and he waved his hand towards the crowded table, at which all the little goblins made an alarmed chattering noise and began hopping to their feet — 'get out of my sight. Yes, you too, Wormtail. Rhysenn, you will remain, but inside your cage. And as for you, little Diviner,' and at that, looking directly at Ron, he smiled, 'I wish to play a game of chess. Are you ready?'
'I'm ready,' said Ron.
When Hermione walked into the kitchen she found Viktor sitting at the end of a long wooden trestle table. A single candle illuminated the gloom, throwing crazily tilting shadows against the walls and cupboards. He didn't look up when she let the door fall shut behind her, only pushed his straggling hair back, and muttered, 'Ou sont les cigarettes?'
'Viktor,' Hermione said, slightly uncomfortable. 'It's me.'
He looked up. His dark brows were drawn together over his deep-set black eyes and he was frowning. 'Where are the others?' he asked.
'Fleur's looking after Draco. She said she'd be here in a minute.'
Hermione pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Viktor. 'I wanted to thank you for helping — '
'I have not helped you,' Viktor interrupted. 'I do not approve of you being here or of Fleur having told you Harry's whereabouts. I feel it is a betrayal of the trust he placed in both of us.'
'I just want what's best for Harry,' Hermione protested.
'And you are so sure you know what that is?' Bitterness laced Viktor's tone for a moment. 'You always did think that you knew everything, Hermione. And of the fact that you are brilliant there is no doubt. But it is not given to any one person to know everything. Not even you.'
'He can't do this alone,' Hermione said in a small voice.
'He cannot do it at all, it is a task impossible,' said Viktor, his grasp of English deserting him along with his grip on his temper. 'He loves you -
he is in love with you — the least you could do is respect his wishes — '
Before Hermione could interrupt, the door swung open and Fleur came in, followed by Draco. Through the dimness, they were visible only as silhouettes; Fleur lifted her hand and gestured quickly, and light leapt up all around the room as the torches on the walls lit themselves to flame.
Hermione could see now that they sat in a pleasant, medium-sized kitchen. Stacks of clean dishes sat on the sideboard, and a small pantry was visible through a curtained archway.
'There,' said Fleur, smiling. 'Much better.' She looked over her shoulder.
'Draco, sit down. I'll find us all something to eat.'
Draco stepped out from behind her and went to take a chair; Hermione sucked her breath in as he sat down and smiled at her. There was bright color in his cheeks and he looked healthy, alive, almost normal. His mouth curled up at her flabbergasted expression and he leaned back in his chair. He had swapped his soot-covered jumper for a black-and-red Quidditch jersey that Hermione assumed belonged to Viktor. It was too big on Draco; the sleeves dangled down over his slender hands and the neck fell away from his delicate collarbone. She could see the collar of his own white t-shirt underneath. 'Hermione, darling,' he said, 'you look as if you just caught Dumbledore administering a naughty spanking to a group of unruly fourth-year girls. Why so scandalized?'
'I'm not scandalized. It's just — you look good.'
'Well, that's hardly headline news. I always look good.'
'Don't be deliberately obtuse. I meant you look as if you're feeling better.'
'Better is such a relative term,' Draco murmured delicately, and leaned back as a loaf of bread Fleur was in the midst of Summoning flew past his head and landed on the table. It was followed by a wedge of white salted cheese, a pitcher of cold milk, a selection of plates, and a pack of Lucky Snitch! cigarettes for Viktor. 'Thanks to Fleur, however — '
'Do be quiet, Draco, and eat,' interrupted Fleur, taking the seat next to Viktor's. 'Both of you.'
Hermione fell to the food, trying not to eat too ravenously and make a spectacle of herself. Draco ate more slowly; food had never been something that interested him much. He pulled the bread apart with long careful fingers and dunked the crusts in his milk and then either ate them or swirled them around until they dissolved. Hermione forbore from telling him that this was disgusting. She was too busy being deathly curious. What had Fleur done? Surely she didn't — she couldn't have -
'I didn't have sex with Fleur, if that's what you're worried about,' said Draco.
Hermione went scarlet. 'Draco.'
'There may have been some nudity,' he said pensively. 'But it was scientific and not recreational in nature.'
Viktor looked enraged. Fleur put a hand on his arm. 'You really can be terribly rude sometimes, Draco,' she said with a frown.
'I can be terribly rude all the time,' Draco said. 'I happen to be restraining myself at the moment. You should be appreciative.'
Viktor said something loudly to Fleur in what sounded like a sputtering mixture of Bulgarian and French. Fleur replied to him soothingly, her hand still on his arm. Draco took the opportunity to pinch one of Viktor's cigarettes, and used the candleflame to light it.
Hermione shot him a look. 'You took off your clothes in front of her?
Why?'
Draco pretended not to have heard the question. 'Sex magic isn't about healing anyway,' he said. 'I'd think with your extensive reading background, you'd know that.' He inhaled and blew smoke at her across the table. 'Although I suspect you're just cranky 'cause you're jealous.'
'I'm NOT jealous,' Hermione snapped. 'I just don't like the idea of her seeing you naked.'
'I see I should have gotten you a dictionary for Christmas,' Draco said dryly.
Fleur interrupted. 'Nobody saw anyone naked,' she said crossly. 'I created a power transference. It is something Magids can do. I gave a little of my energy to Draco.'
Both Hermione and Draco stared at her. 'Does that mean you're my Source now?' Draco asked finally. 'Or — am I yours?'
Hermione looked at him in surprise. 'You didn't know what she did?'
He shook his head. 'No. I was just joking.' The cigarette was burning away between his fingers, forgotten. 'Fleur — '
'I am not your Source,' she said. 'Nor are you mine. I gave you a small bit of my power, encapsulated, to replace your own flagging energy. It will not last forever but it will help you for a short time. Certainly long enough for you to find Harry. Then perhaps, if necessary, you can ask him to do for you what I did — '
Draco's tone was clipped. 'I'm not asking him for anything.'
Fleur pushed the ashtray towards him. 'As you like.'
'And how long is it going to take us to find Harry? Are you going to tell us where he is?' Hermione asked, looking past Fleur at Viktor.
'He is at my apartment in Prague,' Viktor said. His face obscured by smoke, Hermione could see only his jutting black eyebrows and craggy, furrowed forehead. 'I sent him on ahead, and intended to meet with him there tomorrow. I was going to bring some of my friends in the resistance with me, for backup.'
'An apartment in Prague? Those endorsements must be paying off,' Draco commented, finally abandoning his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.
'He'll be safe there,' Viktor said. 'Well, as long as he doesn't go out at night,' he added as an
