Hermione was writing a very long letter; she had already filled half a roll of parchment, which was dangling from the edge of the table […]
“Who’re you writing the novel to anyway?” Ron asked Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitched it up out of sight.
“Viktor.”
“Krum?”
“How many other Viktors do we know?”