Past Present

Harry didn't say a word about what he had seen outside Viktor's door. Instead, he asked Ron for his notes when he got back to the dorm, copied the passage, and went straight to bed. He certainly didn't want to be the one to tell Hermione that Fleur had been propositioning Viktor. He certainly didn't want to tell about her wandering hands. It did seem to explain why Viktor didn't care much for Fleur at all. Looking at Viktor this morning, propped up on his elbow, placidly studying the back page of yesterday's Daily Prophet over Hermione's shoulder, he could hardly believe Viktor had been on the receiving end of such a ... a ... groping. Harry had been so upset, he had forgotten completely about raiding the stash of chocolate Sirius had sent. He had settled for slipping a bar of it into his robe pocket this morning, planning to eat it after breakfast.

Harry had just finished his toast and unwrapped the bar when the owl post arrived. The Weasley family owl, Errol, landed rather clumsily on the table, skidding along, taking plates and glasses with him, knocking the bar off the table. "Errol! I can't eat that now! It's been on the floor!" Harry scolded.

"Oh, give him a break Harry, he's old as the hills. Dumb luck he can fly at all. Looks like Mum's sent a care package. Give Errol something, would you?" Ron said, untying the twine that attached the package to the leg of the owl. Fetching the chocolate from the floor, Harry broke off a square and fed it to Errol, who accepted it eagerly. "She's sent blueberry muffins, even!" Ron enthused, shifting the packets around inside the larger package.

"I had better go. Practice," Viktor said to Hermione. He rose from his chair and turned to the rest to say goodbye, but instead, he paused, openmouthed, studying something on the table. "Did your owl injure his wing?" he asked finally, nodding toward the middle of the table. There, Errol was floundering on the wooden tabletop, flapping awkwardly, as though he weren't able to coordinate his wings.

"He was fine a minute ago," Ron protested, "You think we should go get Hagrid?" Errol flapped more frantically, staggering about, letting out doleful hoots and screeches.

"I will go," Viktor said, and in a few moments, Hagrid had followed him back from the staff table.

"He was fine when he first landed, and then I gave him some chocolate, and then he just started flopping around!" Harry said in a rush.

Viktor's head whipped around. "Chocolate? Where did you get it?" Viktor asked.

"It's from Honeydukes - Siri-... errr... the person I told you about on the back porch... sent it," Harry said.

"Anyone could have signed his name to it, Harry. Keep away from it until we get this straightened out, okay?" Viktor ordered with a raised eyebrow. "There could be anything in it. I need to go. Owl me?" Viktor asked Hagrid.

"Soon as I know anythin'," Hagrid said, nodding. He gathered up Errol as Viktor walked away.

"But it was signed 'Snuffles'. No one knows about that but us..." Harry trailed off.

"Yeh'd be surprised wha' other people know sometimes, Harry. Keep away from it fer now. Maybe it's alrigh', maybe not, but it looks bad," Hagrid replied, tucking Errol under his arm and heading outside.

"Concentrated Doxy venom, so says Professor Snape," Hagrid told them when they stopped by his cabin during lunch. "If yeh'd eaten the whole thing, coulda killed ye, Harry. I'm sorry Ron, bu' Errol, 'e wa' pretty old... I've sen'a letter to yer mum and dad abou' 'im." Hagrid laid a big, comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Hagrid?" Harry said at last, "You knew my father... what was he like?"

"No finer two people than James and Lily Potter," Hagrid said proudly.

"But what was he like when he was my age?" Harry pressed.

"Oh, a bit rambunctious. Always inter somethin'... " Hagrid trailed off with a grin.

"He and Snape didn't get along, did they?"

"No, rubbed one another the wrong way from the start, they did," Hagrid said, shaking his shaggy head.

"He was a bully, wasn't he?" Harry squeaked out.

"James Potter was a fine man... " Hagrid began, but Harry cut him off.

"When he was my age. He was a bully," Harry insisted.

Hagrid let out a sigh. "He was a bit too big fer his britches when he got full o' himself. His parents spoiled him a bit. On'y child. Indulged him. He was used to gettin' wha' he wanted. Him an' Sirius both ..."

"They picked on Snape... why?"

"He stood out a bit. Like me Harry. Yeh stan' out, yeh make an easy target," Hagrid said softly. "Now, yeh'd be'er let me owl Viktor, or it'll never get there 'fore the practice is over an' the game starts this afternoon, and he'll be Apparatin' back wantin' ter know what's goin' on an' havin' my head fer not owlin' like I promised."

"So, someone knows who we were referring to as 'Snuffles' then," Hermione mused as they walked back toward the Great Hall. "How would they? I mean, Viktor doesn't even know we call him that. He doesn't even know why we would call him that. You didn't tell him," she added, looking at Harry.

"How would you know what I told him?" Harry asked.

"What do you think we do when we're together, Harry, just goggle at one another and never say a word? We do talk, you know," Hermione shot back.

The day dragged. Ron moped about Errol, Harry moped about what he had seen James do, and Hermione moped about Viktor, although Harry could never quite be sure whether she was moping because he was away or because of what was scheduled for tomorrow night. Harry was becoming more and more resolved to be elsewhere at ten o'clock. Anywhere else.

It simply seemed par for the course when Viktor arrived back in a foul mood, sporting a huge purple Bludger mark on his right forearm. "Three hours worth of that for a tie!" he complained at dinner.

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey and get her to see to that," Hermione said, but he waved the suggestion off.

"Only a bruise. It will go away soon enough," he protested, tugging at his sleeve, only succeeding in covering a small portion of it. "Look, this is pretty obvious, but I am going to say it anyway. No more opening your mail out here, no eating anything you might get, no matter who it is from, no more care packages from the Weasleys," Ron had opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it immediately, snapping his mouth closed, "Even though that one from this morning checks out, no more being so trusting. You eat nothing that does not appear on this table or that you see come from the kitchen and one of the house elves. I mean you see it come right from their hands. Be suspicious as hell, Harry. I haff to go now," Viktor said in a rush, shoving his chair back.

"Where? Company?" Hermione offered.

"Library. If you do not mind helping me look through two more volumes on magical beasts," Viktor replied, sounding a bit less strident.

"If you don't mind helping me find something on Arithmancy." They set off for the library, Viktor's arm draped across her shoulders. Harry was a little glad to see them go. He was tired of being told to be sensible about everything, when nothing seemed to be sensible anymore. He and Ron went off to their own Quidditch practice without a word between them.