Harry and Ginny went back to their drinks. “The other thing I wanted to ask you about is Qidditch related.” Harry said. “Have you or anyone at the office heard about anything strange or odd going on with the Bulgarian Team? In addition to the whole Krum thing,” he added hastily, just to focus it down.

  “Well,” said Ginny, “I’ve been visiting all the teams that have made it to the final rounds to get background color, and I've done some interviews with coaches and notable players. Something to put on the spike in case they advance. The Bulgarians, especially the coach, were rude, surly, secretive, uncooperative, and thoroughly unpleasant.”

  “So, pretty much par for the course?”

  “Yep,” Ginny agreed.

  “Did you interview Krum?”

  “Certainly,” Ginny smiled. “He definitely brought the average up. He was only sullen and taciturn, and only muttered threats in Bulgarian when he was discussing his teammates. As opposed to the coach, who was threatening mostly me. Oh, and Gwenog Jones, for some reason. ” She shrugged. “I’m not kidding, though, Krum was an actual delight by comparison.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I did get a good interview from him. We talked about the age thing, and I quote, ‘Snitch is still Snitch. Broom is still Broom. I am still Krum.’ Let’s see, we touched on his school days. He still has very fond memories of Durmstrang. “Vas much better after Karkarov left. Cleaned up house,” Which your reporter took to mean they purged the Dark Arts practitioners and their influence. He still won’t, or can’t, say where the Institute is, but I’ve got a strange feeling it’s in Iceland.”

  Harry looked at her. She shrugged. “I don’t know why, just a feeling. And, what else? Oh, we talked about his fitness. He’s put on a little weight, but apparently it was intentional. As he put it, ‘Veather in Patagonia is wery unstable. Strong vinds can come any time from any direction. If Seeker is too light, can be blown away, can be slowed.’ The extra weight looks good on him, all muscle. He was too skinny before. ”

  Harry shook his head. “That is confidence, no matter how misplaced. Planning for the final before the Group Stage even starts.”

  Ginny smirked. “We even sort of talked about his love life, but that part isn’t for attribution.”

  Harry tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Do tell, if, of course, you can do so ethically.”

  “Oh, it’s not because of him.” Ginny assumed a frown and a scowl, as if she was trying to peer over a large, hooked nose from beneath thick, black eyebrows. “Hermy-own is too good for Veasel boy. She should leave, find better man!”

  “Veasel boy?” Harry choked on his drink, and got brandy and bubbles up his sinuses. “I mean, WEASEL boy?”

  Ginny laughed merrily. “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t trying to be insulting. I think he honestly believes our family name is, ‘Weasel.’”

  That set them both to laughing. “Oh, Gods,” said Ginny, wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I have missed this. How long has it been since we’ve had this sort of time together?”

  “Too, too long,” sighed Harry. “But, James...”

  The two of them froze, listening. No explosions. No sirens. They relaxed.

  “That settles it,” said Ginny decisively. “ I’ve made up our mind. (Our mind? Harry thought, but was too smart to say anything out loud).

  Ginny continued, “As soon as we get home, that boy is OFF.”

  “Only a little,” murmured Harry. “And it doesn’t really show...” (So, not that smart after all, then).

  Ginny gave him a flat look. “Hannah?” she called across the room. “You mentioned something about poison...?”

  “I meant, ‘Yes, dear,’” Harry corrected hurriedly.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you meant.” She went on. “So, why the interest in Bulgaria and Krum?”

  “Weirdness,” said Harry. He pulled the Krum folder out of the dimensional storage pocket inside his robes, and tried to open it. It wouldn’t open. Bright red letters formed on the face of it.

  THIS FOLDER CONTAINS OFFICIAL MINISTRY OF MAGIC INFORMATION, AND MAY NOT BE RELEASED TO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL.

  “Again with this?” groaned Harry. “C’mon, it’s Ginny. You guys know Ginny.”

  The text changed. DOESN’T MATTER. RULES ARE RULES. BY THE WAY, HI, GINNY.

  “Hi, M.O.M. File,” replied Ginny. “How’re they hanging?”

  ALPHABETICALLY, FOR THE MOST PART. AT LEAST UNTIL YOUR HUSBAND GETS HOLD OF THEM.

  “Oh, ha, ha.” Harry grumped. “Baseless lies and slander, that’s all I get.”

  YEAH? ANSWER QUICK, WHICH COMES FIRST, ‘R’ OR ‘P’?

  “I... need to talk to my solicitor.”

  YOU NEED TO TALK TO YOUR PRIMARY EDUCATION TEACHERS. THEY LET YOU DOWN BADLY.

  “Hey, I was being bullied a lot! It made it hard to concentrate!”

  OH, BOO-FREAKIN-HOO. GET OVER IT. YOU’RE A GROWN MAN. C’MON DUDE, JUST DO THE NOTIFICATION AND BE DONE. I KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT. EVEN THE LOVELY AND TALENTED GINNY KNOWS...

  “Fine, fine.” Harry sighed. “And stop flirting with my wife.”

  HAH. LIKE YOU KNOW FLIRTING WHEN YOU SEE IT, CAPTAIN OBLIVIOUS.

  “Captain Oblivious?” asked Ginny.

  OH, GINNY, THE STORIES I COULD TELL. THERE WAS THIS ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE CLERK DOWN IN...

  Harry interrupted, “The-information-you-are-about-to-receive-is-sensitive-and-may-only-be-discussed-with-the-officer-providing-said-information-pursuant-to-Ministry-Of-Magic-Rule-Yadda-Yadda-Yadda.”

  Ginny’s eyebrows raised. “Yadda-Yadda-Yadda?”

  YEAH, THAT’S NEW. THE NOTIFICATION IS UP TO ABOUT THREE PAGES, AND YOU MEAT PEOPLE HAVE SUCH TERRIBLE MEMORIES. WE JUST SLIPPED A SUB-RULE THROUGH COMMITTEE THAT MAKES YADDA-YADDA-YADDA EQUIVALENT TO THE REST OF THE BOILERPLATE. SEE, HARRY, WE’RE LOOKING OUT FOR YOU GUYS.

  Ginny, reporter’s instincts alight, was intent on pursuing the matter. “And by WE, you mean...?”

  “Never mind that!” Harry said crossly. “Are we DONE here?”

  NO. YOU DIDN’T DO THE DANCE.

  “What!”

  KIDDING. LATER, GINNY.

  “Later, M.O.M. File.”

  Harry poked the folder, which opened by itself with a small susurrus of air.

  “Blast it, where was I?” he muttered.

  “Weirdness,” prompted Ginny.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Harry began laying out sheets of parchment. “We’ve been receiving death threats for Viktor, ever since he announced he was coming out of retirement. They started out as kind of a joke, but as they were against someone with an international connection, none of them got thrown away. Over time, they have gotten more and more graphic, and, well, threatening.”

  “Wait,” said Ginny. “Wait a minute. You say you are receiving them. As in you, the Ministry of Magic; you, the Aurors: or you, personally?”

  “The Ministry one,” said Harry.

  “The British Ministry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has anyone else been getting threats?” Ginny pursed her lips, thinking.

  “Not like these.” Harry shuffled through the papers, looking for the notes he made. “I mean, team managers are threatening each other all the time...”

  Ginny grimaced. “Gwenog.”

  “...but that’s mostly public and spoken in anger.”

  “Weirder and weirder,” murmured Ginny. “You want my first thoughts?”

  “Definitely,” said Harry, and prepared to take notes.

  “First, why the Ministry of Magic? If they’re after money, why not the International Committee? If they are after notoriety, why not the Daily Prophet? If they really want to hurt Viktor, why put law enforcement on notice?

  “Second, why Britain? Why not Bulgaria, or, like I said, international?

  “Third and last, why, for the love of all that is holy, why Viktor? I do honestly like the man, and I admire his talent. But he, and Bulgaria, are the longest of long shots. What in the world would it accomplish?”

  ‘Yeah, now that you mention it, most of those angles slipped past me. Ewan mentioned Bulgaria not having a snowball’s chance in Fiendfyre...” Harry sighed. “Professional blinkers, I guess. Usually by the time something shows up at the Auror’s office, the provenance is pretty well established, if nothing else.”

  He brooded for a moment. “Ginny, I hate to ask this, but... Is there any way you could give me some discrete help on this? You’ve got the Qidditch connections. It would look suspicious if I started sniffing around in your baliwick. Also, please see if you could find an excuse to talk to Viktor again... Someone needs to put him on alert, see if he has noticed anything untoward or suspicious.”

  “Harry, my dearest darling,” Ginny was smiling. “if we can get James bundled off to Dud and Emily, I would be absolutely delighted to play Holmes to your Watson.”

  “Isn’t that the wrong way ‘round?”

  She sniffed. “We’ll see.”