The Ransom of Albus Dumbledore

Dear Ginny,

Thanks for covering for me with my parents. I wish I could tell you more of what I'm doing right now, but it's a bit hard to explain. Anyway, I'm home now so you don't have to fib anymore.

I'm sorry to desert you when you are all working so hard getting ready for the wedding and everything. I wanted a nice normal summer, but since the Headmaster's death, nothing can be normal anymore, not until, well, you know what I mean.

To think Mum and Dad wanted to take me to Bulgaria this summer. They’ve always wanted to visit the Balkans—some wonderful caves and waterfalls they have there—and since I have a ‘friend’ in Vratsa, this would have been perfect. (Naturally they wouldn’t let me visit him alone.) But my 'research' and the wedding put the kibosh on that. Oh well, it's for a good cause. I wonder how my ‘friend’ is doing. Maybe he's gotten himself involved with some Veela—like your big brother.

I’ve been amusing myself with this magigadget I picked up at the Alley last fall. It’s called a Babble-izer. It looks like a headset, and it lets you understand any language. I wonder if it will work on Ancient Runes.

Your bud,
Hermione

PS—in case you don’t know what a headset is—ask your dad.

~*~

Dear Hermione,

You're not missing much except Mum yelling at Ron every five minutes about stuff he forgets to do. The boy is positively ga-ga these days. Like someone did a Memory Wipe on him or something.

Oh, yes, and Phlegm is here finally, mooning about, giving everyone orders that she pretends aren't orders in that cutesy-poo voice she used to trap Bill with. She says she saw you in Paris. Is that true? She wouldn't say more.

Funny you should mention your 'friend' in Vratsa. We got Viktor's reply to the invitation (apparently he was on the Delacours' list), and it was so odd. First, it didn't come from him, but from someone named I.Ivanova. His fan-mail secretary, maybe? Anyway, it says he may be coming, but not to be disappointed if he doesn't show up. Mum fairly screamed over that one. Something like "Honestly, don't these people understand how much catering costs these days?!!"

I didn't mention it to Ron. I think he doesn't much care for Viktor Krum.

Otherwise, all's as usual: dull, dull, dull.

I can't wait for you and Harry to get here.

Your bud,
Ginny

~*~

[translated from Bulgarian]

Dear Miss Hermione Granger,

You do not know me, but we have a mutual friend in Viktor Krum. The Hawk, as we call him, is my best friend since childhood. He has not owled anyone or come to a single Quidditch practice since the end of May. His parents thought he might be visiting you or Harry Potter, but since he does not live at home anymore, they don't know for sure. I am worried for him. If you have heard from him at all, would you please, please let me know, and tell him that his teammates are worried about him?

I will confide in you because I know you are his very good friend. Lately he has become active in a political group that some of us consider rather radical, called the ‘Saedinenie’. You can understand why I am so concerned.

Our next game is in two weeks.

Yours truly,

Zoltan Zograf
Number one Keeper
The Vratsa Vultures

~*~

Gin,

I got a rather distressing note from a friend of Viktor's. It seems he really has gone missing. I'm going to write to their government straightaway to see if they know anything.

H

~*~

Dear Diary,

I have some time off now from completing Professor Dumbledore's list. Reg has taken over for James, and he says the next task, the last, in fact, will require some preparation on his part. Frankly, I think he's just being overly protective. I know the task involves Peter Pettigrew somehow. How I would love to get him out of the way before Harry, Ron, and I have to go after Voldemort. We have practically neutralized the Malfoys, and many Death Eaters are in Azkaban. This could be a double victory.

I am worried about my friend Viktor Krum. He always seemed so reckless yet so sure of himself. He's moody too. One never quite knows what's going on in his mind.

~*~

Dear Viktor,

I hope this owl finds you and that you are well.

I haven’t heard from you in so long. I hope you are all right. I’m kind of busy with a long-term project right now. A friend of yours is worried that you may be in some kind of trouble, and that I should wait to hear from you or someone from a group called the ‘Saedinenie’. I looked it up. It means ‘Union’. Is that right?

The sports section of the "Daily Prophet" has printed a rumor that you have been injured and will be out the rest of the season. Is that so? I hope not. I know how much you love Quidditch.

I really hope you’re all right and that your parents are okay. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I hope to see you at the wedding.

Your friend,
Hermione

~*~

[Translated from the Bulgarian text]

Miss Granger:

RE your inquiry into the whereabouts of citizen Krumm: this is to inform you that he has been found guilty of consorting with members of a traitorous group allied to the Death Eaters of your own country. If you do not wish to be blackened with the same brush, please cease attempting to communicate with him.

Sergei Obaloneyski
Minister of Magic

~*~

[translated from encoded Bulgarian]

Dear Yuri,

I agree. We must get Viktor out of the Well of Blood. He is too important to our cause. I still can't understand how he could allow himself to be arrested like that.

As I see it, we will need to get a wand and a broom to him. He will know what to do from there. Someone--a female--will be needed to foil the Veela guards, someone who knows Viktor by sight, someone outside the Saedininie—we are so low on members we can't afford to lose any more—someone whose charm work is impeccable, someone bright but physically weak and devoted to Viktor. (I would volunteer myself, but since you are doing other work, someone has to guide the flock.) I still have the dossier on Viktor's school friends and the best one by far is his former girl friend, one Hermione Granger. She is a British subject, a recent graduate of the Hogwarts school where she excelled in Charms and Transfiguration. She is also Muggle-born, which, under other circumstances, would render her repugnant, but in this case, it is fortuitous for it means that her parents would be powerless to come after her or start an investigation, should she come to grief.

We could have her here by the 22nd in time for the planned mission.

Please advise.

I.I.

~*~

[translated from encoded Bulgarian]

Dear Ivanina,

This Granger sounds like an excellent choice. Under no circumstances should you attempt this mission yourself. You are far too valuable to the cause.

Bring her in. If she refuses to cooperate, you know what to do. Torture is not out of the question, though a simple Imperio should do the trick.

I have good news. I have been promoted. I am now a senior secretary with access to the Minister's office. I shall report to you soon on any suspicious behavior. I do not believe Obaloneyski himself is a Death Eater, but I have my doubts about Kamenov and that half-vampire Justri.

It is too bad that our own people are blind to the Dark Lord's predations. It would be a sad, sad day were our country to fall completely into the hands of these odious criminals. I do not believe that Grindelwald on his worst day was ever this bad. At least he did not recruit werewolves to do his dirty work.

As to the particulars of the jailbreak, keep in mind that the vampires will be on the lookout as well. Be sure to lay some false blood trails to keep them off your scent.

Y.A.

~*~

Dear Diary,

Now I'm really worried about Viktor. He's tangled up in some mess or other. I've some time before I have to finish Dumbledore's list, but I can't seem to get a hold of James or any of the other ghosts. There's usually one of them hanging around, but I haven't seen him or Sirius or Reg or Kirlie in days. I know Death banished Sirius and James, but I'm sure—well I hope—they can find a way around that. Reg's a sweetie, but not the practical sort, and Kirlie, well he keeps talking—and singing (terribly off key, I'm afraid) about the thrill of 'shooting up' all the time. And time's running out for both Viktor and Dumbledore.

~*~

[Translation]

Yuri,

We managed to 'appropriate' the Granger witch at her home. No one saw us. No one will ever know.

The Union meeting went well. Since you could not be there, I, as the ranking member, led the group.

Members present were Dimitrov, Vulchanov, Levski, and Volkov. Granger was quite cooperative once we explained matters to her. It appears she still has some affection for our absent comrade. She seemed agitated about something, however, some deadline or other. I assume it is that wedding Viktor was going to. Well, if our plan fails, two of the guests will be regrettably absent.

I called the meeting to order. Granger was introduced. She is skilled in transformation and opening spells, also DADA. As a female, she will be impervious to the blandishments of the Veela guards. She is also relatively small—and quite bright for an English woman. She asked for some information on the prison. I loaned her my copy of Bluskiya. It should keep her busy until the time.

Our plans are set. We strike tomorrow at the dark of the moon. The ‘twins’ will lower Granger from their brooms through the opening. She will carry a broomstick and a mokeskin bag containing a wand for the Hawk, which only his touch can open. Despite her protestations of friendship, I dare not trust her with a weapon.

Levski, Dimitrov and I will patrol the countryside with bags of blood to distract stray vampires.

Yours in the cause of freedom,

Ivanina Ivanova

~*~

Excerpt from Ancient Fortresses of Macedonia, Moesia, and Thrace by Sophia Bluskiya:

The Gulack Fortress in the Rhodopi Mountains was once the most dreaded place of incarceration in all the Magicosm.* It is a great hollow cylinder of some twenty storeys, which also is sunk deep into the ground the same number of levels. The only way in is through the circular opening in the top. It was originally the summer home of the infamous vampire Vlad the Insatiable, who kept choice tidbits (victims) in tiered cells built into the walls of the vast atrium. For this reason it was referred to by locals as “The Well of Blood”.

Around the time of the Rus invasion it was used for a time to protect the women and children of natives fleeing the border lands. In 1947, the Bulgarian Ministry converted it into a maximum security prison for the most hardened male criminals, including traitors to their country, usually not more than several dozen at a time. Cells are recessed in the walls so that prisoners have a mere tantalizing sense of the sky above them but cannot see it. There are no windows at all. It is ironically guarded by vampires with a small contingent of veelas to help neutralize the temptation to escape. Often prisoners do not survive the full length of their terms, as accidental falls often occur from the unfenced tiers when prisoners, allowed out of their cells to take their evening recreation, are suddenly menaced by a thirsty lycanthrope or by a veela in Harpy form.

_____________________________________________________________________

* In the 1900s it could be argued that the infamous Nurmengard trumped Gulack for a time, at least until its despotic founder was laid low, and today, many penologists believe that Azkaban Prison in the North Sea, with its cruel climate and implacable guards (Dementors), holds that dubious honor.

~*~

[translation]

Daily Report
Gulack Fortress
Officer of the Watch: Anton Sanguineski

9 PM: Gave the 'ladies' their assignments. (See appended roster) Took some smell-deadening pills and had an extra-big ‘meal’ at the Guts’n’Gore, so I should be good for the night.

11:45: All’s quiet, except for Krum’s cell-mate. What a whiner! I’d suck him dry, but I don’t want to risk contamination with yellow blood.

12:08: A hole-guard has reported a noise overhead—like someone giggling and snorting. Probably just her time of month, but I’d better go check.

12:36: I sensed the warmth of two large bodies hovering over the hole (they must have been Disillusioned or something). Gave chase, but lost their scent because of those damned pills.

1:00: Veela Karbolevskiya reported surprising a witch in Krum’s cell. When Karbolevskiya started throwing firebolts, the witch escaped on a broom. Prisoners are secured, but that old whiner just won’t shut up.

~*~

Dear Diary,

I've never been so scared in my life! Kidnapped and whisked away to Bulgaria, with (I thought) no one to know where I was.

But I should start at the beginning. After my last entry to you, I made dinner and got out a book to read while I waited for Mum and Dad to come home. The book was in Spanish. I wanted to see if the Babble-izer could translate it. Well, it does, sort of, but because it's made for speech, not words on paper, I had to say the words out loud, and I heard the English translation in the earphones. And you have to be especially careful to pronounce the words correctly or it gets all huffy and—

But I have to get back to the story. Actually the Babble-izer does come into it, because if it hadn't been fussing at me about the way to pronounce d's (it insists on the Castilian "th"—oh drat, I'm rambling again. It must be nerves.) Anyway, I was distracted and I had the headset covering my ears, so I didn't hear them break in. One must have put a Body-Bind on me because my mouth just stopped working in mid-argument, and I went all limp and muzzy. I could see the intruders as they stared down at me, three of them, a gaunt, stern-faced woman and these two huge guys. They threw a foul blanket over me, and one of the men just slung me over his shoulder like a rolled-up carpet. I can't tell you how awful and scary it feels to be limp and utterly vulnerable like that. I wanted to cry. Ron's name was in my mind, and somehow, in spite of the Bind, I managed to scream it out. That one little word. They smacked me hard for it, and Apparated me in that humiliating position. I nearly suffocated, and my captor's odor was all around me. Sauerkraut and boys' locker-room smell and, omigosh, burnt Billiwigs like Kirlie tried to smoke one night. Ugh!

We arrived in this cellar, filled with boxes—tinned meat and bottles and more blankets. The woman told me right away why they had done it. I was still wearing the headset, so, even though she had some English, it neatened her version up for me. She said Viktor had been arrested, and they figured I was the only one who could get him out. I remember thinking the silliest thing: "Boy, what will Ron say when he hears that?" and giggling. Hysteria was setting in obviously. But I sobered up quickly because she pointed her wand at me and tried an Imperius. I resisted with all my might. Thank heaven for those DA lessons.

When she saw it wouldn't work, I said, 'You could have just asked, you know. I'm Viktor's friend. I'd be honored to help.' She looked a bit sceptical at that, but I said, 'You know I'm being honest with you. I could have just pretended to be under your spell and then ran when you gave me some slack. But I didn't.' I think my logic may have reassured her. But I had to tell her there wasn't much time. I had to be back in England very soon. I didn't tell her why. She seems to be allied to our cause, or at worst neutral, but you never know. Heavens, I don't even know which side Viktor is on really.

They'd already decided on a rescue plan, set for the next night, which both relieved and alarmed me. You know how I like to have all my ducks in a row, and I couldn't imagine being able to prepare sufficiently for an actual prison break in under twenty-four hours. But they’re so devoted to Viktor, I had to help, especially that Ivanina Ivanova. I have a feeling she’s in love with him. She kept studying me like I was the enemy.

She introduced the two men, Vulchanov and Volkov. I remember they were Beaters for the Vultures when Viktor played for the World Cup. They are referred to as 'The Twins' though they are not related. (Actually they just look somewhat alike—all brawn and these teeny-tiny heads.)

I think I convinced them I’m for real. I did a few demo spells for them (since it's out of the country, and the Ministry couldn't touch me.) They were impressed, especially with my Patronus. One of 'The Twins’ started chasing my otter around the room, giggling like a child.

The woman, Ivanina, introduced me to some more members of 'The Union' and gave me an outline of the plan and a book with information on the prison where Viktor's being held: Gulack Fortress. It sounds like Azkaban, only worse . I hardly slept a wink. I kept having nightmares of Fleur Delacour changing into a Harpy and making off with Ron, and vampires sucking at my neck. Brrr.

The next night came, and Ivanina Disillusioned the twins and gave me an Invisibility Cloak. It was not nearly so good as Harry's, frayed at the edges and worn to holes in places, but it would have to do. Then I rode behind Volkanov (I think) to the top of the prison on his broomstick. I had Viktor's broom strapped to my back and a wand for him in a bag only he could open. That Ivanina didn't trust me a whit, I could tell.

But I was too busy going over the plan in my mind to be scared. They lowered me down hand-over-hand on a rope to the tier Viktor's cell was on. I had to tiptoe around to number 9983A, keeping a lookout for lycanthropes and Veelas/Harpies. The ledge was not too narrow, about five feet wide, and most of the cells were empty and open so I could have ducked into one and hid in the shadows had I needed to. I just wasn't sure I could trust that cloak or the Disiilusionment Charms to work on all magical creatures. I read somewhere that Dementors can see or somehow sense things right through them, but when I pressed Ivanina on it, she just shrugged. In that moment, I got the feeling that I was an experiment of sorts and easily discarded. That made me even surer that she's in love with Viktor and that she thinks me a rival. But, as I say, there was no time to think about it then.

I made it to Viktor’s cell without a hitch, and who do you think I found with him? His old Headmaster--Igor Karkarov! I recognized his voice right away, and when I got a glimpse of his face, I knew, even though he's much thinner and yellower and more stooped than I remember him. You could have knocked me over with a feather at that. I remember he was supposed to have been killed by Death Eaters, but Sirius told me that Voldemort got his brother instead. Apparently the brother looks a lot like him. His death must have been a case of mistaken identity.

I took off the cloak and revealed myself to both of them. Viktor did not seem all that surprised at a rescue attempt, although he got angry at me for getting involved. That made me mad, and I was thinking of telling him they'd had to kidnap me to do it, but then Karkarov started moaning and shaking all over. He fell back on this mound of straw that was apparently a bed of some sort, in a fit of coughing. He kept saying over and over, 'It's a trap. They've come for me. The Dark Lord knows, Viktor. He always knows.'

I couldn't figure out what that meant at first, but Viktor whispered to me that when Karkarov heard that his brother had been killed, he got himself arrested immediately, thinking he would be relatively safe in prison. After a while, Viktor got a letter from him, and it sounded so despairing, he decided to visit, even though he and all the members of the Union had been declared outlaws for demonstrating against the government. Naturally, he was discovered and arrested. Viktor has always been too impulsive and noble for his own good. He convinced the guards to let him stay with Karkarov as an agent of comfort as the old man was becoming a terrible nuisance with all his moaning and groaning. For a while, Viktor was able to calm him down, but lately he's gotten sicker and more importunate every day. I think I know why. I could see the mark on his arm. It writhed and glowed the whole time I was there like a thing alive.

I told Viktor the plan and shoved the bag with the wand through the bars. He opened the cell door for me, but he refused to leave his old Head. How like him. Karkarov looked awfully ill I had to admit. So I showed them the broom and said the three of us could fly out together, but still Viktor said no, that Voldmort had by now found out his mistake, that this was the only place Karkarov would be safe from him. I tried to argue that his government was probably full of Death Eaters. But he said that the Justice arm of their Ministry were still relatively free of corruption, and Karkarov might still be safe a while longer.

Then I said (I know I shouldn't have) that it looked like Karkarov wasn't long for this world anyway. I was sure I had seen a pinkish froth on the old man's lips. He just sighed and said, 'I know. All the more reason I should stay here. It is a terrible thing to die alone in prison, Hermoninny--like my grandfather did.'

Just then a Veela showed up and went Harpy on us, so Viktor placed me squarely on the broom and muttered a command, and next thing I knew I was zooming up out of the out the Hole. But my Cloak had caught on something, maybe the handle of the cell door, and I was stripped of my only defense.

I could hear and feel wings beating all around me and the sharp cries of great birds of prey. I was within an ace of being caught when something whizzed past my face and began yodeling and wailing like a banshee. Omigosh, it was Kirlie Duke, orbiting my broomstick with his guitar, and he was singing at the top of his lungs and twanging those strings and working the wa-wa pedal with a screeching, mind-blowing intensity. I had no idea where he had come from, but I was never gladder to see him and hear that raspy voice of his.

I looked about me. All the Harpies were stopped dead, their wings still beating furiously, but hovering twenty feet away, their taloned hands pressed against their ears. Then they all fled outward in an explosion of feathered, fanged fury.

Kirlie dived at me and I felt the intense cold of his ectoplasm penetrate me, but also something warmish. And acrid. Somehow he had a reefer between his ghostly lips, and it smelled just like burnt Billiwigs. He muttered something, and we were back in my house in a trice.

He explained that my yelling had woken him up from an enjoyable stupor and he'd dived into the pocket of one of the twins as we Apparated out. Then he hid in the bag with Viktor's wand, but when Ivanina said the spell to make it impossible for me to open it, it somehow shut Kirlie inside.

'Some powerful kind of dark magic, that,' he muttered.

I pooh-poohed that idea. Ivanina may be cold and hard, but she loves Viktor, I'm sure of it, and he is firmly on the side of the Light.

I think I may love him, just a bit. But I'll never let my Ronnie know that.

On to the final task!

~*~

My Lord:

The plan has failed. Neither Krum nor Karkarov could be induced to leave the fortress. Assassination within the walls will be difficult. Please advise.

The spy Yuri Arctensi that The Union planted at the Bulgarian Ministry suspects Justri and that idiot Kalenov. Let me know if it will be necessary to 'remove' him.

Your obedient servant,

I.I.