Chapter 4: A Twisted Plot
Harry dashed back to the hospital wing. "Dad, Dad, I need your help! Ron's been—" He halted in mid-sentence and averted his eyes. "Never mind, I'll come back later." He ran back out again.
It was all too easy to conclude that Fleur Delacour was somehow involved in the Hufflepuff plot. First of all, there was no reason to include her in the story at all unless she had some role to play; secondly, she had all of the earmarks of an agent of the femme fatale variety. But who was she working for? Hufflepuff? Voldemort? And international organization of bad guys whose sole purpose was to play villains opposite James Bond and men from U.N.C.L.E.?
And come to think of it, why did Illya Kyuriakin look so much like Ducky from NCIS?!
Harry shook his head and tried to think clearly. He needed help to rescue Ron, and he needed more information about Fleur Delacour before he could even begin planning the rescue.
When it came to a sidekick, Bonfoy was perfect; he was always ready for a bit of adventure, and he might even be able to scare up some more help. Information brokers, unfortunately, were a bit harder to come by. Snape was occupied at the moment, and only one other person came readily to mind.
A month before, Harry wouldn't have hesitated to go to that person, but since then…Well, how could anyone that smart miss what Professor Sprout was up to? Either the person in question had missed the plot entirely, or that person tacitly approved of it.
By the time Harry found Bonfoy, he was still indecisive.
"I don't suppose we know anything about his loyalties?" Bonfoy asked.
Harry shook his head. "He doesn't like Voldemort," he replied, "but I have no clue what he thinks of Sprout."
Bonfoy looked thoughtful. "Well, we're Slytherins, aren't we?" he said.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Your point?"
Bonfoy shrugged. "We'll let him think we think Voldemort's behind it," he explained. "We may be altruists at our core, but we are still sneaks." He smiled slyly. "And let's take Pansy along—he's used to dealing with a trio of adventurers. It'll put him off-scent."
"Oh, is that all I'm good for?" Pansy sniffed, appearing as if from nowhere.
"Pretty much, yeah," Bonfoy answered.
"All right, then." She looked to Harry. "Ready?"
"What about the uniform design committee?" Harry asked.
Pansy shrugged. "This'll be more fun," she told him. "Besides, once we ruled out pink, I was out of my depth; Malvina'll do a far better job without me."
---
"Blood lollipop," Harry said, and the gargoyle guarding the doorway slid aside.
"Right on the first guess!" Pansy marveled. "How do you do it?"
"Whim of the writer," Harry replied, leading the way up the stairs.
He knocked at the door at the top and heard a voice call, "Come in!"
The three of them entered and found Dumbledore waiting for them. He smiled, his eyes twinkling, and offered each of them a lemon sherbet ball; all three declined. Slytherins were supposed to be hostile toward the headmaster, after all, and today was hardly the day to mar that reputation.
Dumbledore sighed and put away the candy. "Very well," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"Ron's been kidnapped by Fleur Delacour," Harry replied. "We think it's some sort of plot Voldemort's worked out to get me. We're trying to rescue him before he can be brainwashed and give away all of my deepest, darkest secrets."
The headmaster arched an eyebrow. "Voldemort knew about your crush on Cho Chang long ago," he chided mildly.
"So did the whole bloody school," Pansy muttered, sounding a touch disgruntled. "That's hardly what Harry's talking about."
"Ah." Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, then. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I'll see to it."
"I don't think you understand," Bonfoy said, crossing his arms. "We mean to go after him ourselves, and we want information that'll help us do it."
The headmaster looked a touch amused. "Oh, really, now."
"Yes, really, now," Harry replied. "We want to know where Fleur is keeping him."
"And you think I'll know that?" Dumbledore countered.
"According to many readers of Rowling's books, you're omniscient," Pansy told him. "And for the purposes of this story, you'd better hope you are, or Ron Weasley's going to die a horrible death."
"Being kidnapped by a part-veela doesn't generally foreshadow a horrible death," Dumbledore pointed out.
"Unless you're given to dying of embarrassment, which Ron might be," Harry shot back. "Now are you going to help us or not?"
Dumbledore regarded them in silence for a moment, then nodded. "I'll tell you what you want to know, on one condition."
"What condition?" Bonfoy asked.
"Simply answer me this," the headmaster replied. "Why are two dyed-in-the-wool Slytherins with a history of problems with Ron Weasley suddenly so interested in his safety?"
"Blackmail," Pansy answered promptly. "Harry found some compromising pictures of Malfoy and me. That's why we're so surly about the whole business."
"Good enough for me." Dumbledore clasped his hands. "Fleur Delacour is a rogue agent for GIVRU."
"GIVRU?" Harry echoed.
"Generic International Villains 'R' Us," Dumbledore explained. "Her preferred hideout is a second-rate flat in London. You'll find it above a disreputable nightclub called Busty Bombshell's. I don't know what sort of security arrangements she has, but you can be sure that there's a ridiculous amount of security for the size of the place."
Harry nodded. "Thanks. Is there anything else you need to tell us for the benefit of the reader?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing of any importance to the plot," he replied. "I might sometime be able to relate to you a story about the time Professor Snape's six-headed goliath nematode was accidentally turned into a pot of geraniums—"
"Um, maybe some other time," Bonfoy said hastily, and it seemed to Harry that he was suddenly very keen to end the conversation.
Dumbledore smirked. "In that case, good hunting."
Harry stared at him, wide-eyed. "My dad actually has a six-headed goliath nematode?" he said numbly.
"We'll be going now," Bonfoy added, then dragged Harry from the room, Pansy close behind.
