Disclaimer: Harry, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Krum, and all the other Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The legend of the Simurgh belongs to Persian folklore and is therefore fair game Muahahahahahaha!
A/N: I'm new to publishing my fanfics—I usually don't like it enough to share (call me selfish!). I've been reading the fanfics here for several weeks now and I absolutely love the R/Hr stories, so I thought I'd pitch in. This one's a longer story and the action/adventure part if it is just as important as the romance, so the romance won't be developing for another few chapters! Just to warn you! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review & tell me if I should continue!
*~*Formation of a Plan*~*
"Harry you can't go. You heard what Professor Dumbledore said. You're just not safe outside of Hogwarts right now!"
Harry looked at his best friend with trepidation. He knew she was right but he didn't like the idea of it. Ron and Hermione sneaking off to some foreign country alone without him. It was like walking right into Voldemort's layer handcuffed and ready to die. How would he know if something went wrong? And something could go very wrong. But if he were to leave Hogwarts now, he would be vulnerable to Voldemort who was growing stronger by the day. Harry wasn't quite prepared to face Voldemort—not yet, at least. Hermione and Ron would raise little suspicions out on their own. They could pose as two lovebirds on vacation and no one would ask any questions. The entire wizarding population of Grad Sofiya would know within 10 minutes if he, The-Boy-Who-Lived, walked into a tavern in the middle of the countryside at midnight. "All right. But you have to let me know the minute something goes wrong. And not by owl. We need something faster."
"Like what?"
"I don't know, Hermione, but I'll figure something out."
The two sat down in the Great Hall and began eating. Ron was already munching happily on his breakfast.
"Where have you two been? I don't think I've ever been down to breakfast before you guys," he said by way of a greeting.
"Oh, Hermione was helping me finish up my Potions essay," Harry lied.
Hermione leaned over to Ron's ear and whispered quietly so that no one else could hear, "we have to talk. Come straight to the library during lunch. Harry will bring us some food."
Ron groaned at the idea of spending his longest break between classes in the library of all places but assented when he noticed the seriousness of her tone. If she would ask him to give up his lunchtime to be in the library he knew it had to be important and his curiosity was piqued. He spent all of Herbology nagging Hermione about it.
"Ron, if I wanted to talk about it in the middle of class I wouldn't have asked you to meet me during lunch, would I," she huffed. "Now get back to your Bubotuber and leave me alone!"
Ron wasn't sure if he wanted to yell at her or kiss her, but that was often his response to her outbursts nowadays. Ever since he had admitted to himself that he had feelings for her over the summer he had had strange impulses to do things he knew she would certainly slap him for. He didn't trust himself with a response—he turned back to his Bubotuber and tried to suppress the impulse to grab Hermione by the waist.
Lunch came painfully slowly to Ron who's curiosity couldn't have been more acute. What was so urgent that it couldn't wait until they were in the common room after classes in the evening, and so secretive that she didn't want to discuss it during classes?
Ron entered the library and headed for Hermione's usual table. To his surprise she wasn't there. Odd, he thought. She wouldn't ask me to come and then not show up. Suddenly he felt a light tug on his right hand and he turned to see Hermione behind him.
"Hi," she whispered, and pulled him off to a more secluded section shielded by a bookshelf. "Sit," she commanded.
Ron eyed her playfully, but decided not to try her patience. He sat obediently and waited as she disappeared behind the bookshelf to return again with a rather massive volume in her hands. She turned to a page halfway through the text and began to read:
"'The Simurgh is a creature who resides on the sacred Persian mountain of Alburz. Thought by the muggle world to be merely a myth, she leaves her nest only to find a sick child to nurse and foster or when she is summoned by the burning of one of her feathers. Her eggs have mystical powers and are said to possess a poison transcending the magical realm but one touch from her feathers will heal even the deepest wound.'" Hermione looked up triumphantly from her text and looked at Ron expectantly.
"What are you on about?"
Exasperated she sighed in disapproval and leaned over to him. "The Simurgh is a magical creature Ron. It has lived to see the destruction and restoration of the world three times over. If anything can help us destroy You-Know-Who it's got to be the Simurgh. Listen: 'It's original home was the Tree of Knowledge, and thus it's powers stem from Goodness and Light. For this reason it can sometimes be enlisted to fight an evil force. But the seeker must have pure intentions and will be tested in several ways.'"
Ron's eyes grew wide as realization dawned on him.
"Hey guys, what did I miss?" Harry's voice jolted Ron's mind back and he gratefully accepted the toast that was handed to him.
"I was just about to tell him about the feather," Hermione said as she brushed her toast to the side.
"You're welcome," Harry deadpanned. He sat down beside Ron and motioned for her to continue.
"The feather is how we summon the Simurgh. Hundreds of years ago the Simurgh took Rostam's sick father up to her nest and nursed him back to health."
"Who's Rostam?"
"Honestly Ron! Don't you ever read your History of Magic books? He was a great wizard in ancient Persia, but he wasn't very keen on keeping it a secret. Of course in those times most wizards practiced magic openly. Anyways, he was said to have been as strong as Hercules—who as I'm sure you already know was also a wizard—and won many battles for the muggles with his magic. He was muggle-born, but the Simurgh took his father up to her nest and nursed him to health. When he was well enough to return to his city, she gave him eight of her feathers and told him that if ever he should need her assistance, all he had to do was burn one of these feathers and she would come to his aid. Now, most of the feathers have been either used or lost, but there is one left intact." She paused. Ron was completely enveloped by the tale, but she feared what his reaction would be to the last part. "It is currently in Mount Vitosha—in Bulgaria."
Of the many hundreds of reactions she had been expecting from him, quietly smiling wasn't one of them. He didn't yell, he didn't even flinch; he just allowed a bemused smile spread across his face as he looked at her. "Bulgaria?"
"Er, yes. Nowhere near Viktor of course," she assured him. Why did I just say that? "Er, right. Viktor is in the province of Varna, which is on the Northwestern end of the country, and Mount Vitosha is in Grad Sofiya, which is on the eastern end. Lovely place, Varna." She was rambling now and Harry tried desperately to hide the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape from his lips, but Ron displayed his smirk openly. Over the summer Hermione had written to Harry explaining to him that she decided not to go to Bulgaria because of the age difference and because she "just didn't feel anything for him." She had told Ron however that she had gone to see Viktor Krum and that she had had a lovely time with him. When Ron learned the truth from Harry—who finally got so sick of listening to Ron rant about Vicky that he gave in to shut him up—his jealousies had subsided and were replaced with the smug realization that Hermione was trying to make him jealous. Ron was acting so much like Percy whenever the subject of Krum came up that Harry often regretted telling him the truth, but that thought was quickly dismissed every time he was witness to Hermione trying to make Ron jealous by bringing the issue up. "Anyways," she continued, "It is said to be deep within the Cave of Virtue. Ron, if we can get this feather, the next time Harry comes face to face with You-Know-Who he may be able to get rid of him for good. The Simurgh has been known to 'quell sources of evil beyond imagination.' That pretty much sums up You-Know-Who doesn't it?"
"'We get the feather?' How on earth are 'we' going to get to Bulgaria? We can't exactly just pop out of here whenever we want you know. We'd be expelled!"
"Yes but there is a time during the winter where you can leave the Hogwarts grounds," Harry responded. "A time when you're free for two whole weeks."
"'You?!' Have you lost your mind?"
"Ron, Harry can't go with us. You know the moment he stepped foot off of the Hogwarts grounds You-Know-Who would track him down. You and I could go without arousing much suspicion. You and I could tell the school that we're going home for the Holidays, and tell our parents that we're staying at Hogwarts again. Then we board the Hogwarts express, and once we arrive in London get on a train to Bulgaria. The town around Mount Vitosha is a relatively rural place with few lights. If we wait until midnight we could ride our brooms to the Wizard town at the base of the mountain without being spotted."
Ron leaned across the table towards her, "are you sure this isn't a ploy to get alone with me Hermione," he teased. "Because you know we don't have to go to all these lengths. Why, I bet there's no one in the boy's dorms right now!
"Very funny, Ron!" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Or, we could always use the Shrieking Shack. No one will find us there,"
"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione's entire face was pink now and it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or annoyance or both.
"Ok! Ok! Sorry. Hermione listen to yourself will you? Do you have any idea how much it'll cost to go to Bulgaria?!"
"I'm paying," Harry piped up. He had been too busy laughing at Ron's pathetic attempt at flirting to say much. Ron opened his mouth to object, but was promptly cut off by Harry; "And there's nothing you can say to stop me so just give it up!"
"Harry, you've only got Galleons. That'll be fine for lodging and food while we're there but what about muggle money to get us on the train to Bulgaria?"
"I'm going to tell my parents that Harry needs to send away for something from the muggle world for a Christmas present, and that he needs some money from his vault exchanged for muggle money at Gringotts," Hermione jumped in. "I'll send them Harry's key and they'll send back the money and the key with Hedwig with plenty of time to spare."
There was nothing else for Ron to question. It seemed they had thought of everything. There was also the matter of being alone with Hermione during winter break to consider. All in all it didn't sound like a displeasing plan. Again he let an amused smile crawl across his face and looked at Harry. "So, how do we get to this Cave of Virtue and what happens once we get this feather?"
"Well," Hermione replied, "that's a bit tricky. You see it's bewitched so that no human eyes could ever find it—wizard or not."
Ron raised an eyebrow quizzically but Hermione didn't have time to continue. She had just realized that they would be late for their classes and suggested they adjourn until the afternoon. They met back at the same table after classes and sat for hours discussing the finer points of the plan only to leave when Madam Pince came to tell them that it was time for her to lock up and that they would have to return to the Common Room. As they made their ways up to their dormitories Ron mused that he had probably spent more time in the library that day than he had spent in his five years at Hogwarts combined. There was one part of the plan he wasn't comfortable with—one part that was gnawing away at his stomach every time he thought of it: The part about finding the cave.
(A/N: What do you think? Should I continue or just give it up while I'm ahead? I don't have a Beta reader so this is about as good as it gets. If you have any comments on characterization I'd really appreciate it as that is one of my biggest challenges. Hope you Enjoy!)
