The hallways of Azkaban were cold and unrelentingly dark. Harry couldn't imagine how much worse it would be if there were still dementors prowling them, sniffing out the tiniest wisps of happiness to feed on.

"The problem isn't people breaking out," Ron said as they walked. "The doors repel most accidental wandless stuff. It's people wanting to get a prisoner free."

Harry knew all this, but it seemed best to let him talk. Ron was clearly anxious about being in Azkaban, or maybe it was whom they were going to talk to.

"The doors have really complicated locks. Each guard can only open a few. They have to memorize gears, levers, incantations. Then it only stays open for a few seconds. If we're going in and out together, we have to step through like we're one person."

"Just like under the invisibility cloak," Harry said, smiling.

Ron chuckled. "Lily still have it?"

"I'm not even sure. I'm afraid to ask. She tends to misplace things. If she lost that, I'd be furious, and what's the point of being that angry at her?"

They reached an intersection. It was nondescript, but Ron seemed to know where he was going. He turned right and Harry followed.

"She came over for dinner last week," Ron said. "Lily, I mean. We've seen all your kids..."

He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. Harry hadn't seen anyone for months.

"I'm sorry. I'll drop by, it's just-"

"It's not us!" Ron said, cutting him off. "It's your children. They need you."

"I know."

"They're mourning the loss of their mother just as much as you're mourning a wife."

"I know!"

"And you-"

"I know!" Harry snapped at him. "I just can't, okay? I don't want to see anyone. Not until this is over. I have hundreds of students, and they all want a piece of me, and it's just too much. It's too much on top of this. I'll make it up to them once it's over, once I know there isn't someone trying to hurt me, hurt us, all of us."

Ron scowled. "You're supposed to be letting aurors do that."

"How is the investigation going?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know much. Mulciber says I'm too close to it, since I know you, so I'm not involved. I think he's run out of members of your family to investigate, though."

Harry mock gasped in horror. "But it's always family!"

Ron laughed.

"Yeah, I think he's finally having to face the fact he could be wrong about something. Anyway, I hear they're moving on from family to friends."

"That'll be a short list."

"Mate, you know that's not true, right?" Ron said so sadly it made Harry smile.

Ron stopped at a door. It wasn't numbered. There was no name or marking of any kind. The only way they knew it was the right door was the man waiting for them. He wore the black robes of an Azkaban guard.

"Hey, Khaled," Ron said. "Didn't realize you were on rotation."

The man smiled. "Hi Ron. Hi Harry. Luck of the draw. And we're numbers only, remember?"

He pulled on his robes so they could see the red stitching on his chest.

"My apologies Guard oh forty-seven stroke A," Ron said.

"The doors are magic-proofed," the guard said, "but they take thirty seconds to open. If-"

"I already told him," Ron said.

The man frowned. Harry got the impression he'd been looking forward to giving the speech about the doors. He shrugged and turned to the complicated work of opening it.

Harry had never been in the Azkaban guard rotation. He'd risen through the ranks of Magical Law Enforcement. too quickly. Every time he'd been scheduled, he'd gotten a promotion. Since he had to learn new duties, they took him off the list. Then he became head, and it was forbidden, not that he minded.

Harry watched the guard at his work. It was an intense procedure. He turned levers back and forth in a strange ballet, muttering phrases and codes at precise times as he did so. Harry hadn't appreciated how difficult it was until he saw it. Twice Khaled sighed, shrugged an apology, and started over.

Finally, there was a loud click. He stopped and turned to Ron and Harry.

"Ready?"

Ron looked at Harry. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

"He's a killer, Harry. A big one. He only came here because The Ministry doesn't do dementors anymore. Anyone else would have put him to death on sight."

"I know."

Ron locked eyes with Harry. "You're sure."

Harry looked back unflinchingly. "I'm sure."

"Then follow my lead," Ron said, positioning himself in front of the door. "Right foot first."

Harry got behind him, almost touching his chest to his back. He put his right foot behind Ron's.

Ron nodded to the guard, who pulled on the door. It opened quickly with a loud squeal. Ron stepped forward, and Harry mimicked the movement. Three steps, and they were inside. The door stopped, then reversed with another squeal.

"Thanks a lot, guard number oh forty-" Ron, mockingly, said over his shoulder.

The metal door slammed shut behind them. There was a click, and they were alone in the room with the monster.

"Just stay on this side of the light," Ron said.

A beam of sunlight shone down from a notch in the ceiling, crossing the room halfway. On the ground, it formed a pattern from wall to wall like a spiked bramble or lightning. The other side of the room was unnaturally dark. Even with the light from the ceiling and reflecting off the ground, even though the room was small, he couldn't see the far wall.

"Don't get too involved in the conversation. The sunlight is only at the right angle for another hour and a half."

Two yellow lights appeared in the dark. They also didn't brighten the room. The lights flickered, blinked, looked at Harry and then Ron. Harry was reminded of Mrs. Norris.

"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley," said a voice with a thick, Eastern European accent. "What brings you to my…" A chuckle. "To my humble abode?"

"I need to know something," Harry said to the darkness. "I need to know if you attacked me."

A face appeared from the darkness. He could only see the front of the face, as if it was rising out of an oil slick. It gave him the impression of a mask, a mask with a curved nose and dark, thick eyebrows.

"Why do you suspect me? I have no anger or resentment to you. We were… Friendly."

"Because it was a two-level spell. Durmstrang's Headmaster said you were one of the few people he knew could have done it."

The face smiled.

"That is most kind of him. If you see him again, thank him for the compliment. Sadly, I will not be able to tell him myself."

The monster stepped out of the darkness. As he did so, the far wall became visible. The darkness moved with him, dissipating a little.

He'd changed. His sallow skin had become an almost papery white, even whiter than the prison uniform he wore. His fingers had lengthened unnaturally; they were now at least a foot long each, as if they were trying to become the ribs of bat wings.

"Hello Viktor," Harry said.

Viktor Krum smiled, showing a row of pointed, shark-like teeth.