Once again, My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.

Chapter 22: The Next Step

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, August 24th, 2005

"Igor Karkaroff?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. The name is different, but they look exactly alike," Hermione replied. She was looking agitated.

"Malfoy had a different name as well," Ron pointed out.

"Malfoy has a different first name; this is a different last name," Harry retorted. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She nodded sharply. "I remember that man well - he spent a year at my school. He had issues with me dating one of his students."

"And he was Russian? And a teacher?" Dumbledore leaned forward. "Or was that a cover?"

"He had been involved in my Riddle's terrorist cell in the seventies but turned crown witness when the police arrested him. That earned him a much-reduced sentence," Hermione explained. "He later became the headmaster of a school in Eastern Europe and visited Britain during a school tournament meant to foster closer ties between the schools."

"Oh? Interesting. So he wasn't a spy, unlike Kirikov." The old man frowned. "Unless that was a cover."

"He wasn't a good spy, in any case," Hermione said with a snort. "He tried to cheat in the school tournament. Unsuccessfully. While accusing me of spying on his pupil to help my Harry win the tournament."

"Did he win?" Sirius asked with a grin.

Ron saw Hermione rolling her eyes "Yes, actually, he did win the tournament," she said while Harry glared at his godfather. "Not that it mattered - no one cared since there was an attack on the tournament which caused the death of a star student. That was the unofficial start of the war."

"I see. And do you know what happened to Karkaroff afterwards?" Dumbledore pushed his glasses up with one finger.

"He was killed. Probably by the men he had betrayed since it happened after they were broken out of prison." Hermione pursed her lips. "In theory, he could have managed to fake his death, but I doubt it - the men sent after him were not the sort to make such mistakes."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, but Ron couldn't tell if the man actually believed it. "In any case, the biographies of both men are distinctly different," the old man said. "Kirikov wasn't as prominent and never was a teacher as far as we know. Although I can't exclude the possibility that he was operating in Britain during the Cold War, which would be a parallel to your Karkaroff, he wasn't arrested, much less tried."

"Another parallel is that he has no scruples and will betray his allies if it benefits him," Ron pointed out. "Sokolov assumed so, at least."

"He might've been mistaken," Dumbledore replied. "Although that's unlikely - he knew Kirikov very well, after all."

"And how well do you know Kirikov?" Harry asked. "Sokolov didn't even know where the man lived." Which would have made tracking the man down a lot easier.

"My files' coverage of his work for the KGB is quite passable, although there are missing periods - nobody is perfect, after all. Although our intelligence on his activities in the last decade is quite spotty. I expect, however, that this will soon be rectified." Dumbledore's polite smile turned a little toothy. "While I have no doubt that Kirikov has amassed a fortune following his retirement from the FIS, I can safely say that it won't even come close to the resources that the Phoenix Gruppe can bring to bear on this task."

"He or one of his old comrades could have a mole in your organisation," Harry replied.

Ron nodded. Sokolov hadn't known of a mole - he hadn't known Yaxley, either - but Kirikov wouldn't have told him about his spies. Not if he was, as Sokolov had feared, willing to kill his former partners to protect himself.

"I'm well aware of that possibility and we've taken steps to counter that - or exploit it." The old man smiled again. "Gellert and I have some experience in this sort of game."

More than Ron and Harry had - Ron understood the message perfectly. If Luna were here, she'd certainly point out that for all their experience, they still hadn't found the suspected mole, but Ron didn't want to push the man's buttons like that. "So, we wait until you know more," he summed up.

"Precisely." Dumbledore tilted his head. "Although a little technical assistance from Dr Granger wouldn't go amiss if the situation calls for it."

If his men kidnapped a potential source of intelligence, in other words.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Hermione replied.

And now Dumbledore knew that they had an ample stock of truth serum.

"It would be best if we had a few doses on hand - unless you prefer to administer it yourself to every suspect we need to interrogate. But it's far easier to transport a vial across Europe without drawing attention than a famous woman - or a kidnapped thug." Dumbledore smiled winningly.

Ron doubted that the old man would limit its use to suspects related to Kirikov. And he'd have a little more to analyse.

And Hermione knew it as well. She glanced at Ron, and he smiled back with a subtle nod. They didn't have any choice - unless Hermione wanted to interrupt her work at any time, for days, and travel in disguise, Dumbledore would get his 'truth serum'. They could only hope that should he use it on Berisha, he would dismiss the claims of having been shrunken as hallucinations from a shocked, drugged and seriously wounded man.

"Of course," Hermione agreed with a thin smile.

"Splendid!"

"What did Sokolov say?" Luna asked as soon as they returned from the interrogation to the lounge in their quarters.

Ginny made a point of slowly looking up from her magazine, but Ron had no doubt that she was as curious as Luna. His sister merely didn't like that she had been excluded from the interrogation. But she was a tennis player, not a trained interrogator - or a witch.

"Turns out the man behind the attacks on us is Igor Kirikov - the counterpart of Igor Karkaroff," Harry told them.

"The terrorist turned teacher?" Ginny asked,

"Headmaster," Hermione corrected her. "Though I think he was a teacher as well. We don't know yet whether he changed his name, or if that's a quirk like Malfoy. But Kirikov is Karkaroff's counterpart. I'm certain of it."

"He's an ex-KGB agent," Ron said. "Now he's a 'businessman' with contacts to organised crime and the FIS. The Foreign Intelligence Service of the Russian Federation."

"I didn't think a former KGB spy would be working for the International Ski Federation," Ginny replied with a glare as Luna giggled.

Ron wouldn't consider that improbable - the sports business offered a lot of opportunities for corruption, graft and money laundering. But it wasn't worth arguing the point - it would only rile up Ginny.

"Oh! So... when will we go and get him?" Luna asked.

"We don't know his location," Harry replied. "Dumbledore's men are working on it."

"And we can only wait and hope they won't bungle it," Sirius said.

"They didn't with Sokolov," Luna pointed out.

"But they did with Berisha," Sirius retorted. "And I think Kirikov will be more dangerous."

"That is a given," Hermione said. "He's got more experience, more power and more contacts than Berisha."

"And he'll have the better home-field advantage - if he's holed up in Russia," Harry pointed out.

Which he probably was, Ron knew. "He'll have the authorities looking out for him. We won't be able to simply enter as tourists using fake IDs. Not as a group. And we'll need far better disguises."

"Dumbledore must be feeling nostalgic," Harry said. "Working against the Russians again, just like old times."

Ron wasn't the only one who chuckled at that. "We can only hope that he hasn't lost his touch," he said. Although Dumbledore wouldn't let Hermione go on such a mission if he suspected he had been fooled, it wasn't impossible that he would be, anyway - the Russians were good at the spy game, as far as Ron knew.

"So, are there more counterparts with different names?" Luna asked.

"I checked for different first names after I heard about Malfoy," Hermione said. "But now I have to look through several files of suspected allies or contacts of Kirikov to check if I recognise their pictures."

Well, at least that meant that they'd get more information as well. This exchange wouldn't be completely one-sided, then.

Though, Ron felt, that wasn't much of a consolation.

She was looking at the ruins again, Ron noticed. And she had that wistful expression on her face that he wasn't certain he liked. It made her look beautiful - but it also made him remember that she wanted, more than anything else, to return to her own world. Where her Ron lived - probably - and everyone was a wizard.

It was still closer to the full moon than the new moon, so the ruins were visible despite the lateness of their 'evening stroll'. And they were far enough away from the laboratory that the odds of someone having planted listening devices here were low.

"You'll get home," he told her, forcing himself to smile as she turned to look at him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Just being honest," he said. "Want to check out the ruins?"

She drew a deep breath, biting her lower lip. "It's not Hogwarts." After a moment, she added: "It's too small. Hogwarts is a huge castle and covers most of this side of the lake."

"And there's no laboratory."

She chuckled. "No, there isn't. But there's a small pier near that spot, where the first-years arrive by boat."

"Ah." She had mentioned that before. And a giant squid. "Must have been nice to have a lake so close. Our school - mine and Harry's - didn't have that. If we wanted to swim, we had to go to the dinky pool in town."

"We didn't often swim, either," she said.

Probably because of all the monsters in the lake, Ron thought. And wizards might not need to learn to swim. He stepped closer to her and smiled when he felt her arm wrap around his waist. "Say… is there any chance that Kirikov might be Karkaroff? Transported to this world by accident?" And presumed dead, like Hermione probably was.

She shook her head. "No. The odds of such a thing happening twice, and linked to the same world… No. And if he were, I doubt that he could have taken over Kirikov's identity and fooled the Russian intelligence services. Or wanted to. And he would have moved against me long ago. He would have known about me, after all, after my arrival."

He nodded. That was good reasoning. "But we still don't know why he is coming after you."

"Dumbledore thinks he knows I'm not the original Hermione. That seems to be the most plausible explanation. As to how he knows..." She shrugged.

"We'll find out," Ron told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

He had some suspicions. And he knew Harry, and probably Hermione, shared them.

There weren't many reasons why someone would kidnap a child, after all. And fewer reasons why a former KGB agent would know about it, or be involved in it.

And all of them were awful.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, August 28th, 2005

Halfway through 'The Vor Game', Ron closed the book and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. As much as he loved the series, by this point he knew the plot by heart. Which tended to ruin the experience of re-reading the novel.

"I thought it was supposed to be a great novel. Wasn't that what you told me?"

He looked up to see Hermione grinning at him from behind her desk. "It is. I've just read it a little too often, so all the details come back easily once I start re-reading it." He snorted. "Besides, you loved 'Shards of Honour' and 'Barrayar'."

"Guilty as charged," she admitted, her grin growing wider.

He huffed as he shook his head. "Anyway, you can have it now," he told her, holding the novel up.

"Finally!" She stood and walked over towards his 'guard spot' - to which they had added a bench and a small shelf of books over the last few days. After Dumbledore's men had finally started to deliver decent novels. Now if only they'd be able to track down new great novels… or, the holy grail, great fantasy and science fiction movies for the lounge.

She didn't quite rip the book out of his hand, but only because he let go at once, or so he thought. "I still wonder how you found the time to read three books in three days," he said, scooting over a little on the small bench so she'd be able to sit down as well.

She didn't sit down, though. She hesitated. But before he could ask what was wrong, she sat down in his lap, almost unbalancing him as he had to quickly adjust to her weight on his thighs. "Most of what I'm doing now is running simulations and then testing them. Which means that I'm often waiting for the computer to finish processing with nothing else to do," she explained.

"Really?" He didn't quite believe her. She was usually good at finding more tasks to keep busy. Driven.

"Yes, really," she replied with a frown that turned into a pout. "I've done all the note-taking I need for this batch of simulations."

"So you could've joined us in the woods?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

She blushed a little but didn't reply. Instead, she flipped the novel around and read the text on the back of the cover.

"Aha!" he said, grinning now.

"I'm still doing the runs," she defended herself. "But the breaks between experiments aren't that long. Not long enough that I could take part in your exercises. Long enough to read a few chapters, at most."

"Too bad," he replied. "The exercises are useful." And could be crucial, he thought.

She shrugged. "My work here's more important." Glancing at him, she added: "And, apparently, the exercises aren't important enough for you to take part in them instead of reading, either."

That was definitely a smirk there. He snorted in response. "Harry's running them through an obstacle course. He doesn't need me for that." And, he left unsaid but understood, the course had taken some time to prepare, long enough that anyone could have placed surveillance around it.

"Ah." She nodded. "Well, I appreciate the company."

"Even after I surrendered the next book in the series?" he asked, smiling to show that he wasn't serious.

"Yes," she said, rather emphatically. "It does get a little lonely in the lab."

Of course it would feel lonely without anyone who knew the truth behind her experiments. Without anyone who knew the truth about her. Who could be trusted. And she had spent years doing that. Living like that.

He didn't say anything, though - he just wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her a little closer.

And wished that he didn't have to let go of her ever again.

Of course, not even ten seconds later, her computer beeped.

"Oh!" She jumped up. "The calculations are done! Time to check them experimentally!"

Before he could say anything, she was at her desk, typing up a storm.

He wandered over - she didn't seem to notice - and peered at the screen, then shook his head - he couldn't make heads or tails of the data there.

"...and then reduce the intensity here… yes… and tweak this gauge a little…" he heard her mumble while she took notes for her log. "Battery's charged, the cage's ready… Here we go!"

She pushed a key, and Ron heard the now familiar whine as the generators started up. A moment later, the quantum mirror began to blink as small sparks were produced on its surface - as usual.

Wait! No, there were no sparks on the cage's surface - something had appeared in the centre of the cage. In mid-air. Something that shone brightly.

Bloody hell!

But the light winked out a moment later, leaving the cage empty and powered down. "Well…" he started to say.

"Oh my God! A proto-reaction!" Hermione interrupted him with a gasp, her eyes wide open. "And it lasted long enough to be visible!" She started typing like a maniac, windows popping open on her screens only to be closed after a second or two - barely long enough to catch the rows of numbers or graphs on display. "This… Oh, I didn't expect that. Not so soon. Or so… Oh! Of course!"

Ron opened his mouth to ask what exactly had happened but refrained from disturbing her and settled for leaning against the wall and simply watching her work. And smiled when she managed to leave a smudge on her cheek when she distractedly scratched herself with a pen.

After about a quarter of an hour, she took a deep breath and leaned back from the keyboard.

"Done?" he asked.

"Done? No, of course not. I just started the next batch of simulations!" she exclaimed, turning towards him. And pouted when she saw him grin at her. "And you knew that."

"Guilty as charged," he replied.

She snorted at that, then beamed at him. "But this is a breakthrough. A proto-reaction formed! And it was almost stable, too!"

"A proto-reaction?" He tilted his head.

"It's the first step to a dimensional rift. Unguided and uncontrolled - apart from requiring a constant supply of power - but it proves that my theory is accurate!" She jumped up and hugged him. "Now all that's left is to control the reaction, amplify it by a few orders of magnitude, aim and focus it and synchronise it so it connects to my home dimension!"

"And that's all that's left?" he asked.

"Well, yes." She pulled back and nodded at him. "It won't be easy, of course, and will require a lot of work, but it's like…" She scrunched her nose. "It's a breakthrough. Not literally - no dimension was breached - but scientifically."

"Ah." But theoretical breakthroughs usually took years to be turned into workable technologies. "And how long will it take to achieve that?"

She blinked, then her eyes unfocused while she mumbled something under her breath that he didn't catch. "Well, still a few months at the earliest. That's an estimate - this sort of progress cannot be easily predicted, after all."

"Unless you have a talent for Divination?"

She snorted at that.

He smiled at her, though as happy he was for her success, a part of him didn't feel like cheering. A few more months, perhaps even less, and she would return to her home world. And to the other Ron.

"...so you can open mini-portals now?" Luna asked as she refilled her plate at dinner.

"No. I can now build a tool that, with some refinement, will allow me to open a portal," Hermione replied.

"Oh." Luna looked disappointed. "Being able to open portals would have made kidnapping Kirikov an easy task. Just open a portal behind him, grab him and close it before anyone notices anything!"

"That's not how it works - the portal opens to another dimension, not to another location." Hermione shook her head, her messy ponytail swinging. "It needs to be anchored on both ends, too, and that isn't possible anywhere but at specific locations."

"And this is one such location," Ginny said.

"Yes. The dimensions are 'closer' here, in a way." She shrugged as if she didn't have any idea why this was the case. But she had told Ron her hypothesis - that a constant, powerful presence of magic in one location would affect the entire area, even 'leaking' towards parallel dimensions. It sounded plausible to him - but he had no idea about magic; he was no wizard, after all. And at the end of the day, all that mattered was that the portal would open.

"Well, how large will the portal be?" Sirius asked.

"Not large enough to drive a tank through," Hermione said in a flat voice.

"What about a tiny tank?" Sirius beamed at her and moved his hands slowly together as if they were compressing something.

Ron couldn't tell if the other man was serious or merely joking. But Hermione was annoyed anyway. And Ron wasn't happy either - Sirius wasn't as subtle as he thought he was. Ron doubted that Dumbledore would simply dismiss this as a silly joke.

"Well, if the portal is too small then we can send my drone through," Luna proposed. "As a scout."

Hermione shook her head. "I fear that it wouldn't work well on the other side. Too much interference."

"Aw."

"But we can take it with us when we're scouting around," Ron said. That would allow them to take a look at an area before risking themselves.

"Oh, good! I can't wait to see the other world!"

Ah. She was afraid of being left behind, Ron realised.

"We'll need to determine whether it's safe, first, though," Hermione told her.

"It's better to lose a drone than a friend," Luna replied.

Well, she was correct, Ron had to admit. But he loathed the idea of Luna or Ginny risking their lives. No matter how hypocritical that was.

Yet he didn't think they'd be able to keep the others from going with them. And leaving them with Dumbledore and Grindelwald might not be much safer, anyway.

Which reminded him that the closer Hermione came to finishing her work, the closer they were to having explain magic to Dumbledore. He really wasn't looking forward to that.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, September 19th, 2005

"Where's the cake?" Ron heard Ginny ask loudly as he entered the lounge.

"It's still in the oven. Mum's recipe calls for sixty-five minutes. It's still twenty short."

"What? Luna, dinner starts in ten minutes!"

"Yes. But it'll be at least half an hour after that before we get to eat pudding!"

"And what if it burns while we eat dinner?"

"The cooks won't let that happen. And I set the alarm clock on the oven - and my own alarm clock, in case the one on the oven malfunctions." Luna nodded several times in that familiar manner of hers. "So don't fret - everything will be fine."

Ginny huffed but didn't contest the point. Instead, she turned to glare at Ron. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to keep her busy until everything's ready for our surprise!"

"She's taking a shower," he told her. Well, she'd probably finished by now. "And she'll be here on time. You know her." Hermione was never tardy if she could help it.

"Or she'll be here too early!" Ginny complained. "Come on! Don't stand around being useless! Help Harry set the table!"

Sometimes, it was very obvious that Ginny was Mum's daughter. Not that Ron would say so - that would only start an argument. As would trying to explain that Hermione wouldn't be too early, either - it wasn't as if she wouldn't guess that they were doing this. Not after Ginny's birthday party. He was grinning as he joined Harry at the table, which was now covered with a white tablecloth.

His friend smiled wryly at him and handed him the cutlery. "Just go along with her," he whispered.

Ron snorted. As if he needed to be told that - he had grown up with her, after all. He knew how to handle her - usually, at least. Ginny had been going a little stir-crazy lately, what with being practically confined to the laboratory and lake for weeks. She had leapt into organising Hermione's birthday party with a drive that would have impressed - and pleased - Mum.

"Sirius! The decorations are crooked!"

"They're supposed to be that way!"

"No, they aren't!"

"Yes, they are!"

And she hadn't been the only one. Luna hadn't offered to bake a cake using her mother's recipe - she had stated that she'd be doing so, and in a tone that brooked no objection.

And Sirius… Ron sighed as he took a stack of small plates to distribute. Sirius would have probably done worse than Luna and Ginny if he hadn't had his poker nights with the staff, but he wasn't exactly doing well.

"And I still say we should have gotten a miniature tank as a gag gift."

Case in point. Ron snorted. Hermione would've probably managed to use accidental magic to turn Sirius into a tank if he had done this - everyone was heartily sick of Sirius's plans for a tank.

Now, a flying invisible sports car, on the other hand…

Meanwhile, Ginny had finished fixing the crooked decorations and turned back to inspect the table. She rearranged a few teaspoons, but, apparently, didn't find anything else that needed fixing.

And then Ron heard the door opening in the hallway behind him, and Ginny gasped. "Alright, everyone - line up here!"

"And get ready to sing!" Luna said.

"No, the singing comes right before the cake!" Ginny snapped.

Another of Mum's rules, Ron thought with a smile.

Luna was pouting but lined up with the rest of them, and she was beaming again when Hermione entered the lounge. "Happy birthday, Hermione!" everyone announced.

Hermione's smile wavered between pleased and almost shy before settling on happy. "Thank you, everyone."

"I made a cake - well, I'm still making it; it's in the oven - but we let the cooks cook the meal," Luna told her. "I hope that's OK."

"We picked the menu, though," Ginny explained. "Your favourites, according to Ron," she added with a glance at him.

"And we got you gifts, of course!" Sirius said, pointing at the small side table in the corner.

"Thank you!" Hermione repeated herself. She sniffled once, even, before she started hugging everyone.

Ron wondered, briefly, if she'd have started crying if she hadn't expected something like this - she had been under a lot of stress herself, mostly self-inflicted in his opinion, as she'd struggled to refine her experiments.

He snorted as she embraced him. This wasn't the time to dwell on her work. This was the time to celebrate her birthday and to forget their problems for a while.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Hermione, happy birthday to you!"

Luna sang more loudly than everyone else put together, but Ron had expected that. And since she was carrying the cake into the lounge, it evened out. Sort of.

"Here! My mum's secret recipe - Lovegood Cake!" Luna announced as she set the cake down on the table, its candles now the only source of light in the room. "Now make a wish and blow out all the candles!"

"Alright," Hermione replied, stepping a little closer to the cake. Ron saw her checking her hair for any stray strands that might have escaped her ponytail before she bent down. After a moment's hesitation, she inhaled and then blew at the candles. She managed to extinguish the last candle with a slight effort, then straightened and smiled at everyone. "Thank you."

"What did you wish for?" Ginny asked.

Before Hermione could answer, though, Luna piped up: "Cut the cake! It's time for pudding!"

Laughing, Hermione grabbed the knife Luna was waving in her direction and started to cut the cake, then blinked at the sight of vanilla and caramel pouring out as soon as she pulled a slice away.

"My counterpart never made a Lovegood cake for you?" Luna asked, pouting.

"Actually, no," Hermione said. "I think they had different family traditions."

"Oh." Luna frowned, then perked up. "So this is new for you! Dig in! I'll cut the rest!"

Dividing the cake involved not as much cutting as spooning up the mixed sauces, but, again, Ron had expected that.

"Mhhh." Hermione closed her eyes, savouring the taste. "This is excellent!"

"Yes!" Luna agreed, barely intelligibly since she had stuffed her mouth with cake.

"And enough calories to keep a soldier fed for a day," Sirius added with a slightly nasty grin.

Ginny scoffed at him. "You just want to scare us off from having seconds so there's more left for you."

"What? Perish the thought! I was merely complimenting the cake!"

No one believed him, of course. Ron shook his head at the transparent excuse. And smiled at the levity it spawned - all of them needed a good laugh.

"So… what did you wish for?" he asked Hermione as Sirius and Ginny dragged Harry into their silly argument and Luna sneaked another slice for herself.

"That all of my friends were and stayed safe," she replied.

Oh? He cocked his head at her. "Not speedy success in your work?"

She shook her head. "No. I know I'll succeed sooner or later."

But she didn't know how her friends in her home dimension were doing. Or how the hunt for Kirikov would end. He nodded. "So… is wishing while blowing out candles on a cake a special tradition in your Britain as well?"

"Just a custom. Nothing special," she replied after a moment.

So her wish wouldn't magically come true. Too bad - not that he had really expected such a thing. On the other hand, Hermione's home world, or at least Wizarding Britain, had some really odd parts. If owls delivered letters and snakes had a magical language, why couldn't cakes be magical as well? He laughed at his own foolish thoughts.

"What's so funny?" she asked with a slight frown.

Mentioning magic wouldn't be a good idea so he said: "I was thinking about weaponising cakes."

She chuckled at that. "Like rock cakes that are as hard as rocks, thrown at the enemy?"

"Or giant cakes that drop barrels of sticky caramel sauce on the enemy and get them stuck," he added before he saw that she seemed to be sad. Had he made her remember another tragedy? "Hey! It's your birthday! No moping around!"

After a moment, she nodded, smiling - though it felt a little forced, still. "Do you know that this is the largest birthday party I've had in years?" she said.

That was sad to hear, even though he should have expected it - she hadn't wanted to make friends, after all. Not when she was planning to leave this world. So it had probably been just herself and the Grangers. Her counterpart's parents. Whom she planned to leave as well, once her work was done. Damn.

Once more, Luna and Sirius came to the rescue. "And now, the presents!" Sirius announced.

"Yes!" Luna replied, dashing out of the lounge again, towards her room. Half a minute later, she returned with her arms full of packages. She almost dropped one but managed to catch it between her chin and another package before she dumped the whole lot on the table. Ron saw Ginny pick up a package and wipe some caramel-chocolate mix off the underside, but the rest seemed to have avoided a sticky landing.

"Open them!" Luna demanded, beaming widely at Hermione.

Smiling, she stepped up and started unwrapping her presents - methodically and carefully, Ron noted; she didn't tear the wrapping paper off like Luna would have. Or most members of his family.

By chance, she opened Ron's present first. "Oh, Lord of the Rings, box set?"

"A classic," he told her.

She leaned over and kissed him. "Thank you!"

More books were unpacked - it wasn't as if anyone who knew her would think of buying anything else for Hermione.

Even Luna had bought her a book, although it was a wartime rationing recipe book. As Luna explained with a sad expression: "I didn't manage to find a book that involves cooking with MREs. This was the closest I discovered. Sorry."

"Oh, Luna…"

Hermione hugged her. "Thank you!"

Ron had just started collecting the wrapping paper that Hermione had dropped to hug Luna when someone knocked on the door. Without thinking, he moved between it and Hermione while Harry moved closer to the door - though not directly in front of it.

"Yes?" his friend called out, over Ginny's muttered: "It's a private party!"

"May I come in? I have news."

Dumbledore. And important news?

"Of course," Harry replied.

"Thank you," the old man said as he opened the door. "It's very gracious of you to receive me while you celebrate Dr Granger's birthday."

Ron almost snorted - they were his guests, not the other way around.

"Since you're here, would you like some cake?" Luna said.

"I'd love some," Dumbledore replied. "Thank you."

While Luna scraped together a slice - or something like it; the cake had suffered a little between Sirius's attempts to get another serving and Ginny's resolute defence of it - Ron moved the chairs a little to make room for their 'guest'.

"Oh… delicious!" Dumbledore beamed at Luna after his first taste. "Just the right amount of sweetness. A family recipe?"

"Yes." Luna didn't preen, of course, but she still looked pleased.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked impatient. Not that she would be as rude as to press Dumbledore for his news, though. Ron didn't think so.

But Ron was tempted to, as they waited while Dumbledore finished his slice of cake. Something the old man was aware of, Ron was sure.

"Ah…" The former spy beamed at them when he finally pushed the empty plate away. "Thank you for bearing with me, and for sharing this excellent cake. Gellert thinks I should cut back on the sugar, so dessert has become a rare occasion for us."

"No pudding?" Luna sounded horrified.

"Well…" The old man flashed a grin at them. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Ron snorted. As if Grindelwald wouldn't expect that.

Dumbledore sighed. "But enough wool-gathering, I think. I do have important news to tell you, after all."

"You've found Kirikov," Harry said.

"Acquaintances of mine have discovered a location that is thought to be one of his favourite homes, so to speak." The old man tilted his head. "And while I trust their work, one cannot, ever, be certain in this sort of business."

"But you're sure enough to tell us, and to send us there." Ron stared at Dumbledore, and the other man nodded.

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded. "I consider the information actionable. I would have sent out agents based on less during my time in the employ of Her Majesty's Government."

"And where is this possible hideout of Kirikov's?" Sirius asked.

"In a small village on the shores of the Black Sea, east of the Crimean Peninsula."

"Oh, good. I haven't been in a landing operation since the Falklands," Sirius said, "but you never forget the essentials."

"I don't think we'll invade Russia," Harry said, which Dumbledore apparently found funny enough to chuckle at.

"It wouldn't be an invasion, of course. But I have to admit that insertion by sea might be a valid option in this case."

Seriously? Ron stared at the old man. He thought they'd swim to the shore, like commandos?

"Does that mean you have a submarine for us?" Luna asked.

"I'm afraid that as a civilian, I can't call on the Royal Navy any more," Dumbledore answered, "but I can arrange a yacht and scuba gear."

Ron shook his head and was about to comment when he noticed Hermione had grown tense and was staring at the wall. Oh - she didn't like diving, did she? Not since that wizard tournament, or so she had told him.

She came to in the middle of the lake. No, she realised a moment later, when a harpoon bounced off of a Shield Charm near her, in the middle of a battle. Viktor's Shield Charm. "What's going on?" she yelled, drawing her wand. Or trying to - she wasn't wearing her robes, she realised with a shock. They had changed her clothes after sending her to sleep! She hadn't agreed to that!

"The merpeople haff gone crazy!" Viktor yelled back, his wand moving to recast a Shield Charm.

What? But… the merpeople were supposed to look after the champions and the hostages, to keep them safe! Dumbledore had arranged that! "This…" No. This was sabotage. Another attempt on Harry! And Ron!

"They're behind us," Viktor replied. With one arm around her, he couldn't swim fast.

She must have yelled their names out loud. "We need to get out of the water!"

"I'm trying," Viktor replied, wand flashing as he sent a curse into the depths below them - where the merpeople were attacking, she realised.

She needed a wand. How could they have taken her wand?

A wave suddenly rose in front of them, then crashed down on them. Hermione held on to Viktor's arm with all the strength she could muster. If she got separated from him, she'd be dead. Drowned or stabbed. She was helpless without her wand!

They broke the surface again, coughing and sputtering. Viktor cried out - he was hurt. A harpoon had hit his leg! He was bleeding. And more merpeople were coming at them - she could see their bodies moving in the depths.

No. No.

Suddenly, the merpeople broke off and disappeared. And she heard a screeching sound. Very similar to the sound from the golden egg Harry had won in the first task. Just… fainter. And from the water...

Oh. She turned her head and saw that Dumbledore was on a broom, a hundred yards behind them.

"He must have used sound to drive them away," she said. The Headmaster spoke Mermish, so he was familiar with them.

"As long as they stay gone until we are back on land," Viktor yelled, "I don't care how he did it."

But she wasn't really listening to him any more. There, near Dumbledore, were Harry and Ron. Safe.