"Professor," Hermione said, her voice tight, "isn't this a bit too... direct? What if he gets suspicious..."
"Suspicious?" Moody scoffed, his magical eye swiveling sharply toward Hermione.
"Miss Granger, remember, the best disguise is the most plausible accident. What's implausible about bumping into someone in a crowded corridor?"
"An innocent student will only be apologetic and flustered. Only someone with something to hide will be overly suspicious."
"This is verification, and a probe."
Hermione was speechless. Moody's logic was like a door locked tight. She couldn't find the key.
"Go." Moody waved a hand as though shooing flies. "Remember the mission. Don't mess it up."
The next day. Between classes.
The third-floor corridor. A bursting tin of sardines.
Students shouted and jostled. The air smelled of failed spells and hormones.
Harry and Ron were two hawks, blending into the crowd, their eyes fixed on the other end of the corridor.
The target appeared.
A seventh-year Hufflepuff, carrying a stack of books, threaded through the crowd with his head down.
"Now!" Harry gave Ron a look.
Ron took a deep breath, turned himself into a rampaging red-haired bull, and charged.
"Oh! Watch out!"
"Hey! You bumped into me!"
A chorus of shouts.
With his shoulder, Ron slammed into the older student, hard and precisely on target.
Crash-!
A tremendous noise.
Books, parchment, quills, ink bottles... burst outward, scattering across the floor.
The older Hufflepuff staggered, spilling his things everywhere.
"Oh! Merlin!" he exclaimed, his first reaction not anger, but to turn and apologize.
"Sorry! Sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"
His face was full of apology and panic. A typical Hufflepuff.
The plan had worked.
Harry's heartbeat went wild. A Golden Snitch was careening around inside his chest.
Harry pushed through the crowd and was crouching in front of