A/N I don't any of these characters. J.K Rowling does. I just like to play with them
Bulgaria was beautiful. I learnt a lot of things there. I learnt some Bulgarian, strangely enough. I learnt that broomsticks could, indeed, hold the weight of two people. I also learnt that I was not in love with Viktor Krum. He's gorgeous, in reserved-Bulgarian sorta way, but we were too different. There was a certain language barrier to overcome, but the main thing was, that if we were to get involved, I would have to deal with my Quidditch-star boyfriend having his face plastered on the walls of teen witches all over the world. It would be the juvenile equivalent of dating Lockhart (well, the old Lockhart). And I don't like sharing.
I didn't regret my trip to Bulgaria. Viktor will always hold a place in my heart as the first boy to have a crush on me, instead of vice-versa. But after three weeks in a foreign country, all I wanted to do was go home. I missed my parents, the London summer, and most of all, my two best friends (even if they did owl me every couple of days).
Harry had been staying at the Weasley's place for the last week, after being stuck with the Dursley's for most of the holidays. When I got home in two days, Harry was going to stay with me for the last week of the holidays. We were to meet Ron at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. I had, of course, wanted Ron to stay with me as well, but it had been a big enough jump for my parents to let me go to Bulgaria, let alone let two boys (and wizards too!) stay with me.
So the next day Viktor and I made sure was extra special. We made one last visit the Durmstrang, a magnificent place, if rather different to Hogwarts. I tried not to think what would happen to the school if Voldemort came to power. I was dying to know what was happening with You-Know-Who Ron and Harry hadn't been able to send news in case the owl was intercepted.
I went home by traditional method. Plane. The whole 'airport' concept confused Viktor but he was happy to learn new things. He kissed me on the cheek at the airport but we both knew by then that nothing we would happen. We promised to owl each other and I hugged him goodbye.
As I settled into my seat on the plane, I realised something. That kiss had sparked something in me…the last person I'd kissed on the cheek. Harry. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. I didn't know why I'd done it. And why hadn't I done the same for Ron? What I horribly girly thing to do, But Hell! I am a girl. Even if Harry and Ron had failed to notice that little fact until the Yule Ball, we were 5th Years, it was time for them to realise they had a female for a best friend. Nope, no apologies for a silly little kiss on the cheek.
But gosh, I haven't seen the boys for weeks, I wonder how they're looking these days?…..