The Second Day - Part 2
The man stood and turned and extended his hand to Harry.
Harry gasped. It was Viktor Krum, but aged at least ten years since Harry had seen him at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Above his thick black eyebrows his face was creased with deep lines, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. A black cloak, muddy and torn in several places, was slung over his shoulders.
"Thank you for all you have done, Harry," Krum said, shaking Harry's hand with fierce intensity. "I was there, in the Forest with the Death-Eaters. I saw you take his curse. And I saw you finish him-at last."
Viktor let go of Harry's hand and raised a clenched fist, grim determination giving way to the slightest smile.
"Viktor has been our spy for the past year, Harry," Slughorn explained. "He took the Death Mark right after the attack at the Weasley wedding. The Death-Eaters welcomed him as a great prize-the greatest Seeker of his generation, the most famous scion of Durmstrang. But all the while he was feeding us crucial information, at incredible personal cost."
"Enough of that," Krum said curtly. "We are here to find the knife, to save Hermione." He spoke the name flawlessly. "Don't be surprised, Harry. I have been living in your country for a year now. I have left my accent behind."
"All right then," Slughorn interrupted. "Draco, show us the Malfoy treasure book."
Draco laid the black and silver book down on the table and turned to a page close to the end. "I think the knife might be one of these. These are the most ancient and storied in the family collection."
Harry, Krum, and Slughorn crowded around the table. Faded, unmoving images of a dozen or more daggers filled the two open pages-straight, curved, and jagged blades; hilts of silver, copper, and bronze, intricately decorated with ancient runes, twisted serpents, and some symbols Harry didn't recognize. None of them matched the simple weapon that had felled Dobby.
"I know Bellatrix used this one," said Draco, pointing to a small knife with an elaborate pentacle design on the handle.
"No, that wasn't it," Harry said. "It was very plain."
"Very plain you say," said Slughorn. "It won't be any of these, then. Did it have any kind of decoration on the handle. Perhaps a jagged S-or maybe two?" With three sharp strokes he drew an angular S on a blank piece of parchment.
Harry shut his eyes trying to recall the knife he had pulled from Dobby's chest, the knife Bellatrix had held to Hermione's throat.
"Yes, that's it."
Draco and Krum looked at each other in astonishment. Slughorn, obviously shaken, sat down heavily in the chair Viktor had previously occupied.
"Could you be mistaken?" Slughorn said quietly.
"Possibly, but I don't think so. In fact, I remember now-I've seen that knife before."
"Impossible," Slughorn said emphatically.
"Not seen it like in front of my eyes-but in a memory. In one of the memories Professor Dumbledore showed me." Harry walked across the room to the window and looked out over the dark lawn.
"There's no need to go into detail about how you came to see the memory, Harry," Slughorn said carefully. "Just tell us what you saw."
Harry explained his brief glimpses of the Gaunts in their filthy cottage-and how he had seen Morfin threaten Bob Ogden and the young Tom Riddle with the same short, bloody knife. He hadn't remarked on it at the time, but the handle carried a double jagged "S." "About this size," Harry said, drawing two letters about a quarter of an inch high.
"If you are right, Harry, then it is even more imperative that we find the knife, determine whether it is indeed the one wielded by Morfin Gaunt half a century ago," Slughorn said.
Harry was still standing at the window, thinking back to his conversations with Dumbledore the previous year. "We know Tom Riddle returned to Little Hangleton and took the Slytherin ring, as well as Morfin's wand, which he used to kill his father and grandparents." Harry paused; he turned around to watch as the faces of Slughorn, Krum, and Draco registered the implication of what he was saying.
"So Riddle took the knife as well, yes?" Krum asked.
"And passed it along at some point to my dear Aunt Bellatrix? I wouldn't be surprised," Draco said. "She was always his most faithful servant. Completely deranged, of course," he added quickly.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Slughorn cautioned. "There may be more than one knife of this description." He pushed himself up from the table. "I must have that knife," he said with fierce urgency. "We must find out what powers it carries. You and Viktor and Draco will go to Shell Cottage at first light." He raised his hand as Harry opened his mouth in protest. "You cannot go alone, Harry. The Aurors are far from securing all the main wizarding communities, much less an isolated outpost like Shell Cottage. Viktor is well acquainted with the Death Eaters and knows their weaknesses. Draco can be a useful decoy-and only he can confirm the provenance of the knife once you find it."
"If you do not wish to go with us, Harry, we will go alone," Krum said, a look of grim determination deepening the lines on his face.
"Thank you Viktor. And you too, Draco," Harry said awkwardly. "I appreciate your help."
"Let me see the rope, Draco," Slughorn said suddenly. Draco opened his dragonhide sack and pulled out the long coiled rope, which looked too silky and delicate to bind any adversary they might encounter. "You found all the ingredients-the nerves of a bear, the footfall of a cat, the breath of a fish, the spittle of a bird?" Slughorn asked.
"Yes, those were easy enough to find here at Hogwarts," Draco replied. "And the hair from a woman's beard: Professor McGonagall plucked a hair from her own chin when I told her what it was for. I was a bit uncertain about the roots of a mountain, but then I remembered that Professor Snape's most prized geological specimen was a stibnite crystal from Ben Nevis. He kept it in a glass case at the back of the Potions classroom, protected with every curse a master of the Dark Arts could give it. The enchantments, of course, ended with his death, so I was able to open the case without difficulty."
"Excellent, excellent," Slughorn said, pulling a length of the rope taut to test its strength, then returning it to Draco.
Harry was impatient with how easily Slughorn was being distracted. He needed some answers before he set out on a mission with these two unlikely companions.
"What's so unusual about Morfin's knife anyway?" Harry asked, looking at Krum and Slughorn. They avoided his eyes and said nothing.
Draco, who was absent-mindedly turning the pages of the Malfoy compendium, looked up at Harry. "It's not that it was Morfin's knife. It's that it might once have belonged to Salazar Slytherin. The double `S,' you see. Everything associated with Salazar Slytherin has brought pain and death," Draco said bitterly.
"Let us hope then that that is not what we are dealing with," Slughorn said quickly. "Viktor, you can find a kip in the Slytherin dormitory. It is empty now, I am ashamed to say--except for Draco. Harry, come to my office at 5:00 am. That will give you a few hours' rest. I will let you know what else I have been able to discover by then."
Draco turned to walk to the door, but Viktor did not follow. "I understand that Ronald Weasley has left Hogwarts to return home," he said to Harry. "Perhaps I might be permitted to stay in Gryffindor Tower? I have grown tired of bedding down in dank underground spaces," he added by way of explanation.
Harry hesitated for a moment, but his curiosity to hear of Viktor's experiences quickly overcame his reluctance to open the doors of Gryffindor to the one-time champion of Durmstrang.
"Of course, Viktor. Please join us. I'm sure we can sort you out."
Viktor inclined his head in a slight bow, then bent down to pick up a heavy satchel from under the table.
"We'll see you in the morning then," Harry said to Draco and Slughorn.
Harry could not count all the times he had walked from the library to Gryffindor Tower in his years at Hogwarts, but the familiar route was blocked by the extensive damage of the battle in this area of the castle. Harry found himself taking a wrong turn more than once.
"I wish Ron was here," Harry said. "He could find the Common Room by instinct from anywhere in Hogwarts. He's going to be very disappointed, you know. He finally gets the great Viktor Krum in his bed and he's not even here!"
"What!" said Krum, drawing his wand reflexively from the pocket of his mud-stained trousers.
"No, not that way!" Harry said, shaking his head forcefully. "It's just that you were his hero during the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament and he was so desperate for Gryffindor to snag you that he wanted to offer you his own bed-while he slept in a camp bed."
Krum replaced his wand in his back pocket. "I see. I did hear that he supported me during the First Task, that he was angry with you, that the two of you did not speak for many weeks. Tell me, Harry. Did Ron abandon you and Hermione this year?"
Harry was speechless. How could Krum have suspected? That was always to be a secret among the three of them. Harry's silence told Krum what he wanted to know.
"Hermione was right, then," Krum said quietly. They had reached the foot of what must have been the twelfth staircase they had climbed. Harry's legs were aching and it seemed that Krum's were as well, for he took his satchel off his shoulder and sat down on the cold white marble of the third step.
"Let me explain, Harry," Krum said, motioning for Harry to sit down. "Last summer, before the Weasley wedding, I asked Hermione to stay with my family until the war was over. She had come to see me in Bulgaria two years earlier, after the Tournament. She and my parents got along well and she was always happy to be exploring our hills--and our library." Krum allowed himself a slight smile. "I invited her parents to come with her this time, so they would all be safe. Of course I did not know that she had already cleansed their memories and moved them to Australia." He bent forward and closed his eyes, as if he were recalling their conversation. Suddenly he looked up and turned to Harry.
"Hermione told me that you needed her, that you could not complete your task alone. When I pointed out that you would always have Ron, she said that Ron was…'easily discouraged.' I think that iss what she said. I knew Hermione would never leave you so long as your life was in danger. And I was prepared to wait. I had waited two years already after all."
Krum paused and looked at the empty plinth against the wall where a knight had once stood.
"When she told me she could not leave you, I knew what I had to do," Krum continued. "I had to stay here and join the Order of the Phoenix. She told me that she would not be able to write me any more while she was on the mission with you, but somehow, staying in England, I would be close to her and could help in the struggle against Voldemort and the evil I despised. Then, when it was all over, I could go to her right away. Which I did-I found her in the infirmary a few hours after the battle was over. I never thought that at almost the first moment I saw her again, your Professor Slughorn would send me away-to bring back the amber for the elixir."
Krum looked down and rested his head in his hands. For the first time Harry noticed the dim glint of an ancient signet ring bearing an intricate heraldic design.
"You went to Bulgaria-and back-just since the battle?" Harry said in astonishment.
"No, no. I only had to go to Durmstrang," Krum said. "The Potions Master there has a supply of the purest amber from the Baltic. Also, I apparated by broomstick, so it did not take too long."
"How do you do that?" Harry asked. "I've never heard of it."
"Perhaps it is not necessary in Britain, since distances are short. For long distances the broomstick vastly accelerates the normal speed of apparition," Krum explained. He rummaged in his rucksack and drew out his Firebolt, which had been shrunk to fit in the palm of his hand. "It has served me well this past year," he said, with a ghost of a smile.
"That's an extraordinary ring," Harry said, as he admired the impressive coat of arms, surmounted by a crown and guarded by a lion and a unicorn on either side. "It looks English. Did you pick it up in your Death Eater days?" Harry asked, his curiosity surging.
"This?" Krum asked, slipping the ring off of the third finger of his right hand. "No, this is from my family. My great-grandmother was English, of royal blood apparently, although perhaps from the wrong side of the blanket, as you say. The ring has come down to me, as the only son of the eldest son of the eldest son."
A distant clock chimed once, and both men instantly stood up, as if responding to a call to battle. They walked up the stairs and were relieved to find that the top of this last staircase brought them to the corridor that led to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
"Harmony," Harry said firmly to the Fat Lady, who had returned to her post but was sleeping soundly. "Harmony," he repeated more loudly.
"All right, all right, I hear you," she answered, as the door swung open.
The common room was deserted. Neville, Dean and Seamus had obviously given up the effort to tidy up shortly after Harry had talked to them earlier in the evening.
"Celebration," Harry said, his arm sweeping in an arc to explain the disorder before them.
"Naturally," Krum replied and watched Harry as he walked to the boys' staircase. Krum pointed to the opposite staircase. "Is that where she lived?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "It's where she would be now if…" He couldn't continue. Instead he led Viktor silently up the stairs to his own dormitory.
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